The girls glance at each other and then bust up laughing.
“You’re not the boss of me,” Mal says, but takes my hand in hers and gives it a squeeze. “Sorry. But not sorry.”
***
“He’s amazing,” Mallory says as we walk back to her shop. Her hand is firmly in mine, and we’re enjoying the warm evening. With fall approaching, the weather is milder, making for comfortable evenings. “He has an incredible gift.”
“He does.”
“Has he always been interested in music?”
“Definitely. We knew early on that Declan would never want to be a part of the family business. He needs to make music.”
“How did your parents feel about that?”
“They encouraged him. My father was adamant that we all do what we love.”
“That’s great. Is he still with us?”
“No.” I shove my free hand in my pocket to touch the coin I carry. “He died a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, frowning. We’ve made it to her store, but I’m not ready to say goodnight yet.
“Come up with me for a while.”
Her gaze whips up to mine.
“I’m not ready to call it a night,” I add, hoping that she’ll agree. She bites her lip, but makes her decision quickly.
“Okay.”
She follows me up the stairs and into the flat. I turn on some music and unbutton the top button of my shirt, roll my sleeves, and kick out of my shoes.
“Make yourself comfortable. Would you like some wine?”
She smiles and drags her hand over the granite countertop, the same way she did at my house. “Sure.”
Once the wine is poured, we sit on the couch turned toward each other, sipping our drinks. The silence is comfortable.
I can’t help but reach out and drag my finger down her soft cheek.
“You’re beautiful, Mallory,” I whisper.
“Thank you.” She leans into my touch, her eyes closed, and sighs.
“I like touching you.”
“And I like it when you touch me.” Her eyes open now, and she gazes up at me. “I’m not used to that.”
“You’re not used to being touched, or enjoying it?”
“Both.” She takes a sip, and I suddenly want to tear whomever made her feel like this apart. “I’m an…odd woman, Beau.”
“Well, we’re all a little odd, Mal.” I brush a stray piece of hair off her cheek.
“That’s true, I guess.” She takes another sip and then puts her glass on the coffee table. “Beau?”
“Yes, sugar.”
“Are you ever going to kiss me again?”
And just like that my cock is at full attention. But I just set my glass next to hers and turn to her, my elbow resting on the back of the couch.
“I’d like to just settle this right now.”
“You don’t have to—”
I touch her lips with my fingertip, shushing her.
“I plan to kiss you often, Mallory. I plan to do much more than that. I am quite taken with you.”
“Oh.” She licks her lips and her violet eyes widen and dilate.
“But I’m afraid that once I start I won’t be able to stop. I had to tear myself away from you in the weird room at my house.”
“I like the weird room,” she whispers, still watching my lips.
“I seem to be rather fond of it lately too.”
She smiles and tentatively reaches out to touch my arm. I don’t say anything; I just wait, offering her a silent invitation to touch me. To feel safe to touch me.
“I’m quite taken with you, too,” she says, lightly gliding her hand up to my shoulder. “Not just with how you look, although it’s something to write home about, but also with you.”
God, she’s so fucking sweet.
And I can’t wait any longer. I cup her cheek and lean in, nuzzle her nose with mine, and then kiss her. Lightly at first, just giving us each little tastes. She surprises me by burying her fingers in the hair on the back of my head and holding on for dear life as she takes the kiss from soft and sweet to a fucking inferno.
Jesus, I want her.
She’s pulling my hair as I guide her onto her back and cover her sweet, petite body with mine, resting between her legs, pressing my dick against her core, wishing our clothes would magically vanish.
“So beautiful,” I murmur as I kiss down her jawline to her ear and then down her neck. She arches into me, her hand tightening.
She likes having her neck kissed. So noted.
She drags her foot up the back of my calf and plants it there. Everywhere she’s touching me is on fire.
I need her.
“Beau.”
“Yes, sweetheart.” I kiss my way back to her lips and sink in for some quality time exploring her mouth. She’s sweet, seducing me to the very core with her touch, her warmth.
“We’re wearing too many clothes.”
I pull back and stare down at her. Her lips are a bit swollen, and her eyes are wide and shining with lust. Her chest is heaving as she breathes heavily, and she has a death grip on my ass.
“I can rectify that.”
I grin and push my hands under her silk blouse. Her skin is smooth and warm and the best thing I’ve ever touched in my life.
I’m a mess, and I haven’t even seen her naked yet.
“You’re moving awfully slowly,” she grumbles.
“I’m savoring this,” I whisper and kiss her collarbone. “I’ll only ever get to see you naked for the first time once. I don’t want to rush it.”
“You say the nicest things,” she says. “Do you always mean them?”
I pause. “Of course I do. I told you before, this is not a game.”
“I know. Forget I said anything. I’m just dumb with lust. All of my blood left my brain, and now I can’t stop talking—”
I cover her mouth with mine, effectively shutting her up as I guide her blouse up, pull back to tug it over her head, and then resume kissing her as I brush my knuckles over her puckered nipple.
“You’re so responsive.”
“You’re sexy,” she says and tugs my shirt out of my pants.
Suddenly, there’s a loud crash across the room, as a huge mirror falls and shatters.
“Shit,” Mallory says, staring at the glass. “She didn’t like us kissing.”
Chapter Six
Mallory
“Who?” he demands, staring down at me, his breath coming quickly and eyes slowly losing the lust that just shone in them.
“Miss Louisa,” I reply and sit up when he pulls away.
Fuck me. For the first time ever, I was engrossed in a man and my own carnal feelings about him without being bombarded with his own thoughts. I didn’t even notice that Miss Louisa was in the room until the mirror broke.
Which was her way of getting my attention.
She’s glaring at me, and talking fast, but I’m not responding to her, and that only makes her angrier.
I guess she doesn’t like to be ignored.
“What are you talking about?” Beau says and pushes his fingers through his hair as he stands and retrieves a broom.
Easy Magic (Boudreaux #5)
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