Freya darted away, laughing as she tore across the living room, bare assed, hair flying behind her, and so sexy she made my gut ache looking at her.

“Get back here, woman. Your man needs seeing to,” I said, joking. Okay, half joking. I wanted her constantly. We’d spent the last week fucking like rabbits.

I’d been wrong—the impact hadn’t lessened.

Not one bit.

If anything, it had intensified.

The woman had me drunk on her and I couldn’t get enough.

She stood behind the couch, skin still flushed from coming moments ago, nipples dark from my sucking on them.

“You’re insatiable,” she said, a grin curving her lips.

I stood opposite her, struggling to breathe from the impact of just looking at her. “You only have yourself to blame,” I said, giving her a playful smirk.

Freya planted her hands on her hips. “How do you figure that?”

“Well, for starters”—I motioned to her—“you have that body.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “You’re the only one who has appreciated these abundant curves quite so much. The last guy I dated told me I’d be perfect…if I just lost ten pounds.”

My spine straightened. “First, that guy wasn’t only an asshole, he was fucking blind. And second, he obviously wasn’t a real man. I’m not small, Freya. A man like me wants a woman who can take what he has to give, something to hold on to. Nothing sexier to me than a woman who is soft and round, who can take every hard thrust I give her. That’s you, honey, and that’s just for starters.” My dick got harder. “Christ, you’re perfect.”

She blinked over at me, then her tongue darted out and swiped over her bottom lip. “What else?”

I raised a brow.

She smirked. “You said for starters.”

“You’re going to make me work for it, huh?”

Her smirk turned into a wide grin. “Absolutely.”

It wasn’t hard at all to come up with more that I liked, because I liked it all. “Your hair,” I said, voice getting deeper. “I love the color, how soft it is.”

She started breathing heavier, so I kept going.

“Your eyes are the most amazing green, and expressive. When you’re under me I know exactly how good you’re feeling. It’s all there.”

Her lips parted a little, and those beautiful eyes widened.

But I wasn’t finished. “You’re funny, too. I never realized how fucking sexy that was. You’re also smart.” What had started as fun, suddenly felt a little more serious. I should get things back to where they had been, goofing around, but I had to say one more thing. There was no stopping the words once they’d formed in my head. “I like being with you. I like having you here. I like…you, Freya. A lot.”

Her throat worked, and her cheeks were darker. “I like you, too,” she whispered.

The room was suddenly engulfed in silence. Her eyes were on mine and that panicky feeling started to build inside me again, threatening me with things I refused to acknowledge, to even consider. “Then stop running and come here and kiss me,” I said, needing to break whatever this was, whatever was happening between us.

She shook her head, drawing in a deep breath. “No. You come here.”

I was already moving toward her before she’d finished her sentence. She held her ground until I collided with her, my hand sinking into her warm, soft hair. Curling an arm under her ass, I lifted her off her feet, tilting her head back to take her mouth, and headed for the stairs.

There was no more talking after that, not for the rest of the day.

When I lay beside her in that dark hours later, I did my best to control the pounding of my heart. I also tried not to think about why I hadn’t taken her out fishing or hunting again since the disaster of our last two excursions.

I definitely didn’t want to think about what would happen in a few days when it was time for her to go back to Denver. How I’d handle it here alone without her.

Freya

I woke to the sound of Beau moving around the room. He was fully dressed. I hadn’t even heard him get up.

“Hey,” I said.

He turned, eyes moving over me. “Sorry, I was trying not to wake you.”

I lifted to my elbows. “What’s going on?”

“I need to go out with Hank today.” He pulled a pair of socks from the drawer. “Will you be okay here on your own?”

“Of course.” Beau seemed a little strange, distant maybe. Did he suspect something? Had he worked out that I’d lied to him? Just thinking about it made me sick with guilt. I needed to come clean, and soon. My stomach rolled at the thought. “Why? What’s going on?”

Beau sat on the end of the bed and slid on his socks. “Grizzly’s been getting too close to Hank’s house. He’s worried about his girls. It got into one of his outbuildings last night and tore stuff up. We’re going to track it, see if we can warn her off.”

I sat up straighter. “That sounds dangerous.”

He shrugged. “Just part of living out here. There’s nothing to worry about.”

I didn’t like it, in fact, I hated it, but a woman who had grown up on a ranch in Colorado would have dealt with bears before, right? This kind of thing wouldn’t faze her. So instead of clinging to him and begging him to be careful, I nodded.

He came around to my side of the bed, leaned in, and kissed me deep and slow. My toes curled under the covers.

“I’ll see you when I get back.” He kissed me again and strode out the door.

I heard his truck start up and drive off a short time later.

I ended up spending most of the day cleaning and pottering around Beau’s house. After I did the dishes and put on a load of washing, I started on the papers stacked high on his kitchen counter—house plans, bills, notes I didn’t know what to do with. I decided attempting to put them in some kind of order would be intrusive, so just planned to tidy them up a bit.

I picked up a small stack and tapped them against the counter to straighten them, then placed them facedown so they’d stay in order. I added another stack and went to gather up the next.

I blinked down at the paper on top. It was a handwritten version of Beau’s online dating profile, with several additions that hadn’t made the final cut, or rather a list of what Beau was looking for and would not compromise on.

Must love the outdoors.

Can hunt.

Likes to fish.

Good cook.

Loves kids.

Not clingy.

Pretty.

I stared down at it, unable to look away. It was like a shopping list. I guessed that’s kind of what it was. Beau had been looking for his perfect mate. My search hadn’t been quite as thought out. I’d seen Beau, fallen head over heels, and then I’d lied so I could have him.

I was a liar.

There was only one thing on that list that I could honestly tick off. I loved kids. The pretty part, I guess I was okay. Beau seemed to like the way I looked. Everything else I’d failed at, terribly.

I squeezed my eyes closed. I needed to talk to him, to tell him the truth, confess that I wasn’t the girl he thought I was, and hope like hell he didn’t drop me like a hot potato. He’d been honest at the start with what he wanted and what he didn’t want. I couldn’t say the same thing and the guilt was eating me up inside.

What I did know was that there was a connection between us, and that was most definitely real. When we were together the air crackled with it. The way I caught Beau looking at me, the way he touched me. I had to believe that he felt something for me, something real. No, he didn’t want love, he’d been open and honest about that, but I knew he felt that connection. That whether or not he wanted love wasn’t up to him because sometimes it just happened.

But first, no matter how hard it was going to be, I needed to sit down and tell him the truth.

Hours later, determined to check another thing off Beau’s list, I was back in the kitchen, trying my best not to destroy dinner. It wasn’t looking good. The mashed potatoes looked kind of lumpy and I got the feeling I’d cooked the meat too long and the beans looked gray and floppy.

I was draining the revolting-looking vegetables when Beau walked in. I rushed to him, unable to stop myself, and wrapped my arms around his waist. “I’m so glad you’re back. I was worried about you all day.”

He curled his fingers around my biceps and leaned back, planting a kiss on my lips, then released me, a smile curving his lips. “There was nothing to worry about. Told you Hank and I had this covered.”

Oh God, I was being clingy. I quickly straightened and took a step back. “I know. I guess I’m a bit of a worrywart.” I hustled back into the kitchen. “Are you hungry? I cooked.”

He smiled. “Starving.”

The meat was kind of hard to carve, but I’d made gravy so hoped that would hide the fact it was a little dry. I dished everything up and put a plate down in front of him, my belly suddenly in knots like this was another test and everything hinged on the results.

He grinned up and me and started with the meat, dragging his knife through, and then again…and again. He started hacking at it, trying to cut off a piece, and I felt my face flame hot. When he finally put a piece in his mouth, he chewed for a really long time.

“It might be a little bit dry,” I said.

Beau grabbed his glass of water and downed the whole thing. He shook his head, grin now strained. “No…no, it’s fine.”

I sat there mortified as he washed every mouthful down, trying not to hurt my feelings while he finished the whole plate. My own hunger had vanished by this point.

“It was terrible, wasn’t it?” I asked.

Beau winced. “Maybe the meat was a bit overcooked, but the rest was…great.”

That was a complete and utter lie, and we both knew it. “You’re nice for trying to spare my feelings,” I said in a way I hoped was light, if a little self-deprecating.

I obviously did a terrible job of hiding how disappointed I was that I’d messed up dinner because his teasing smile dropped.

“Freya?”

The words were there on the lip of my tongue. I lied. I’m not the woman you think I am. “Beau, I need to—”

“Come here,” he said.

I blinked over at him, at the rough edge, the hot command I heard in his voice.

He held out his hand. “Now.”

I was heading toward him before I fully registered my feet were moving. He reached out, fingers curling around my wrist, and tugged me to his side.

“Look at me,” he said.

I was staring at his chin, finding it hard to make myself look into his eyes, not until I said what I needed to.

His fingers slid under my chin and he tilted my head back. “It’s just dinner.”

“I wanted…I wanted it to be perfect,” I whispered, unable to hide how upset I was over another failure.

Beau moved suddenly, shoving his plate out of the way, grabbed my hips and lifted me, planting my ass on the table in front of him. “You’re perfect,” he said in way that sent tingles across my scalp and shooting down my spine.

“I’m not. God, I’m far from it.” I touched the side of his face, his beard tickling my palm. “There’s something I need to—” I gasped when Beau gripped my knees and shoved my legs apart. His hands slid higher until his fingers were at the top of my thighs.

“I’m still hungry,” Beau growled, those fingers moving higher, digging in, fisting my tights roughly at my hips. “In fact, I’m fucking ravenous.”

All my good intentions to tell him the truth right then flew out the window. My heart was pounding harder, faster, and I was already wet, aching. “What…what do you have a craving for?”

“You,” he rasped. “Now lie back.”

I did as he asked, and he tugged my tights and underwear down my legs, tossed them aside, and then threw my legs over his wide shoulders. I whimpered, desperate for him. His breath huffed out, warm against my overheated pussy, and he cursed a second time before he growled in a way that could only be described as hungrily and buried his face between my thighs.

His big hands grabbed my bare ass and he lifted my hips. I cried out, my heels digging into his back, when his tongue plunged inside me, swirling in a maddeningly delicious way.

I lifted to my elbows and looked down my body to watch him. The sight was the hottest thing I had ever seen. Beau was big, his body wide and muscled, arms thick and bulging, muscles flexing, dark head bent and those blue eyes…they were aimed at me.

I gasped, my hips rolling. He dragged his tongue through my slit then swirled it around my clit and sucked. His beard tickled my ass and thighs…my pussy.

My hand dropped, going to the back of his head, and I fisted his short hair, lifting, rolling my hips to grind against him some more. His nostrils flared, and his fingers dug deeper into my ass then he ate me in a way that stole my breath, sucking and licking, plunging his wicked tongue inside me then back up to wrap his lips around my clit again to suck and tug.

Beau loved being between my thighs as much as I loved him being there. It was in his eyes, the way he devoured me. I was slowly losing my mind with every swipe of his tongue, and when he licked back up and sucked with an intensity that made my thighs shake, I came with a scream and collapsed back onto the table.

Beau lowered my legs then grabbed my ankles, shoving them up so my heels were against my ass, spreading me wide, and shot to his feet. He moved in, filling the space between my thighs, and shoved his pants and boxers down, took his cock in hand, and with a snarl, tugged on it almost violently. Lying there still sluggish from the orgasm he’d just given me, pussy still pulsing, shudders still making me shake, I watched him as he wrapped those long, thick fingers around his iron-hard cock and stroked himself rough and fast.

“No one makes me lose my shit like you do, Freya. No one.” His eyes slid from mine to my chest. “Lift up your top. Free your tits,” he bit out.

I did as he asked, unable to look away, turned on all over again by watching him.

“You make me want to do things…things I’ve never done before, that I don’t goddamn understand but crave so bad, so fucking bad I can’t stop myself.” His jaw was tight, veins in his thick neck throbbing under his skin. “I can’t stop myself,” he repeated.

“What do you want?” Knowing whatever it was, I wanted it. God, I wanted it.

“To mark you, to cover you in me.” The muscle in his jaw jumped. I could see it even under his beard. “I want to come on you, Freya, on your beautiful tits,” he hissed. “Can I? Will you let me?”

Oh God. “Yes,” I said, taking my breasts in my hands and squeezing them together. “Do whatever you want. You can do whatever you want to me.” And I meant it. I’d never meant anything more in my life.

Beau made a sound between a gasp and a growl as the first jet of come hit my stomach. He pumped his cock harder, leaning in so he could splash my breasts. Then he aimed the head of his cock at my pussy and groaned my name as he pumped the last of his come between my legs. He coated my clit and just the feel and heat of it set me off again.

I cried his name and came, rolling my hips and pinching my hard nipples.

Beau watched, big chest pumping with his harsh breaths, eyes hot and glittering. When I finally collapsed back for the second time, he tugged his pants up, and scooped me into his massive arms, and carried me to bed. He laid me down, and after cleaning me with a warm wash cloth and pulling up the covers, he slid in behind me.

He kissed the back of my neck then wrapped his arms around me, tucked me under his chin, and said in a rough voice, “Night, Freya.”

After the disaster of a dinner I’d made him, I’d been positive I’d screwed things up even more, that I’d given Beau another reason to end it with me. He’d shown me just how wrong I was.

I didn’t think it was possible, but I loved him even more.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I clung tighter to him. “Night, Beau.”

I couldn’t lose him.

What the hell was I going to do?