Easy Nights (Boudreaux #6)

It’s a good thing I haven’t eaten anything yet. I’d just upchuck it.

“Hey,” he says as he swings the door open. “The code to this door is eight-eight-nine-nine.”

I cock a brow. “That’s pretty simple.”

“I like simple,” he says with a shrug. As soon as the door is closed, he pulls me in for a tight hug and a long kiss.

“Is it possible to miss you after less than a day?” I ask.

“I guess so,” he replies and leads me up to his rec room. He has a big pool table, a big TV, a big wet bar.

Basically, everything is just oversized in this room. If you were to look up man cave in the dictionary, this would be there.

“I don’t think you’ve ever brought me up here,” I say and wander around the room, setting my bag on the table behind an enormous sectional couch.

“This is where I usually hang out when I’m home.”

He sits on the couch and watches me prowl about.

“You seem tense.”

“Me?” I shake my head. “Never.”

“Right. Come here.” He holds his hand out for mine and I take it, letting him pull me into his lap. “Spill it.”

“What?”

“What you’ve learned.”

I kiss his cheek. “I always knew you were kind. But I’ve learned that you’re way more mushy and affectionate than I expected.”

“Did you just call me a wuss?” he asks with a frown.

“No.” I laugh and kiss his cheek again. “I said you’re sensitive.”

“Can we keep this our secret?”

“Yes. If other women knew, I’d have to kick their asses to keep them off of you.”

“You’re the only woman I want.”

“See? You say the sweetest things.”

He grins and runs his fingers through my hair, making me wish I could purr.

“What else is on your mind?”

I sigh. “I guess I should talk to you about something. This also has to remain a secret between us.”

“Okay.”

I can’t talk about this while in his lap. I just can’t. I stand and pace away from him, trying to decide how to tell him this.

“Are you okay?” he finally asks. “Are you hurt?”

“Not anymore,” I murmur. “I guess I can start this with a question for you.”

“Shoot.” He’s still sitting casually, one ankle crossed over the opposite knee, his arm along the back of the couch.

“Do you want children one day?”

His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t move otherwise.

“With the right woman, yes.” He tilts his head to the side. “Do you?”

“I’ve always wanted children,” I admit. “But I have to tell you, before we take this any further, that I can’t have kids.”

He swallows hard. “Okay. Why?”

I frown.

“You might as well tell me the whole story,” he says and stands so he can pick me up and set me on the couch next to him. “And I want you next to me while you do.”

“I’m not going to tell you everything.” I shake my head when he would argue and take his hand in mine. “Trust me when I tell you, you don’t want it all in your head. It’s in the past, and I’m so good now, Ben. I can’t give him any more power by telling you everything that happened.

“But this part is important because although I know it’s still early, it could potentially affect you too, and just like you gave me the freedom to choose this with you, I have to give that back to you.”

“Okay, sweetheart. I’m all ears.”

I take a deep breath.

“I can’t have babies. Ever.” I have to pause to find the right words. “I was beaten so severely that he destroyed my ovaries and they had to be removed. I had to have a full hysterectomy.”

I risk looking up into his face and what I find there makes me catch my breath.

He has tears in his eyes.

“I don’t have to tell you any more.”

“Yes, you do.” He leans over and kisses me softly. “But only as much as you want.”

“Well, that really explains the physiology of it. It wasn’t just one beating, but many over the span of a few years that did irreparable damage. My doctor found it during a routine physical, and suggested I had it all removed before it could become infected or worse.

“So, I did.” I shrug. “And I needed you to know because if we keep going down this path, and it leads to something permanent later on, you have to know in advance that we could never have children.”

“Well, not biological ones anyway. There are plenty of children out there that need a family.”

“I’ve never considered adoption.”

“You should,” he says. “No matter who you end up with, you should know that that’s an option for you. And as far as I’m concerned, well, I am not willing to walk away from you, Savannah. There’s not much you could say to make me go.”

A sigh of relief runs through me. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He pulls me back into his lap. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Angel.”

“It’s over.” I pull back and look into his face. “You never told me why you call me Angel.”

His lips turn up into a smile.

“Because when I was lying in bed, about to die, you were hovering over me and I could have sworn you were an angel.”

“I’m not.” I kiss his cheek. “An angel.”

“You’re as close as I’ll ever get to one,” he replies. “Do you feel up to a game of pool?”

“I don’t know how to play pool.”

He stands with me still in his arms.

“I love how strong you are.”

“And I love how strong you are,” he replies. “You’re the strongest person I know, Savannah, and it’s a privilege to be with you.”

“Don’t get sappy on me, Mr. Preston.”

“Fine. I’ll teach you how to play pool instead, Ms. Boudreaux.”

I smile, holding onto him and enjoying the feel of his arms around me. “Deal.”





Chapter Nine


Savannah

“Hold it like this,” Ben says. He’s pushed up behind me, leaning over me. We’re stretched over the table, and let’s be honest, I’m not at all focused on getting this green ball in the corner pocket.

I’m focused on Ben’s crotch pressed against my ass. His chest pressed to my back.

His lips whispering in my ear.

I’ve never had sex on a pool table before, and now seems like a great time to start.

I lick my lips and aim for the ball, as Ben guides my arm in slow motions. I strike, and the ball misses, bouncing around the table.

“I don’t think you’re a great teacher,” I say as we both stand up. I already miss the heat of him against me.

“I don’t think you’re paying attention,” he replies, leaning on the cue, and not backing away. So I boost myself up and sit on the edge of the table, gathering Ben’s shirt in my fists at his hips.

“Oh, I’m paying attention.” I grin as he lets the cue fall to the tabletop and plants his hands on the table at my hips, leaning in to kiss me.

“Are you really in the mood to play pool?” he asks against my lips.

“I don’t think so.” I tug his shirt up and let my hands explore his warm, smooth skin.

“Angel, I need to be sure that you’re sure about this,” he says, holding my face in his hands and pinning me in his ice-blue stare.

“I’m sure.”

“I’m going to take this very slowly.”

“Because you’re trying to torture me?” I grin and bite his lip.