Rekindling Old Flames (BWWM)

CHAPTER 7

I glare at Beau as we walk into the boardroom. Unfortunately, there's only two side-by-side seats left. Taking my seat beside Camila, I nod at my assistant to start. As the meeting begins, something presses against my thigh. I try to move it away, but my hand gets caught in something—or by someone. Turning to my left towards Beau, I shoot him a questioning look. One I hope no one else will notice.

Beau gets the message but ignores it. He smirks that devilish smirk of his and continues to hold my hand, interlacing our fingers as he leans over to whisper in my ear. "Don't they look perfect together?" he asks huskily, his hot breath fanning across my neck.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I try to ignore the warmth seeping into my hand and attempt gently tugging my hand out of his without drawing attention to what's going on, but Beau's hold only tightens. He smiles, showing off his beautiful dimples. I give up and try to concentrate on what's being said in the meeting, and Beau instantly releases my hand. I can't believe that's what gets him to let go! He must have gotten bored since I stopped trying to get free, but I couldn't have been more wrong.

His long, attractive fingers brush lightly against my thighs. I turn to face Beau again as my eyes widen in realization. It's starting to feel like my eyes widen every time I'm around him. My skin burns with pleasure in the wake of his touch, and a ragged breath leaves me as his fingers slowly move to my knee. With my lips parted and my eyes fixed on Beau, he slowly moves his hand back up and goes all the way to my waist. My breathing seizes once his hand reaches the center of my waist. His fingers flatten on my thigh and rest a fragment away from my core. Unable to help myself, I glance down and stare at them. My core throbs, remembering exactly what those fingers can do. I try to quickly cross my legs in order to force his hand away, but Beau keeps them apart.

"If you don't want me to go under your skirt, don't you dare cross your legs again," he whispers. I stare at him, wondering once again if he has gone mad. Who does he think he is to tell me what to do?

With my gaze locked on his, I slowly cross my legs again. He thinks he can tell me what to do, but he's wrong. I chose to let his hand roam my thigh, because I didn't want to fight him and draw attention to myself during the meeting. I think I need to remind him no one controls me.

I am about to remind him of that when the words get caught in my throat. Beau's muscular hands move under my skirt, caressing my scorching skin. I stare at him as what he's doing registers. He's really putting his hand under my skirt. How dare he?

As Beau's hands start to leave hot trails across my skin, I clinch my legs tighter as a familiar sensation builds in my lower region. But I think I made things worse because now Beau's hand is locked between my thighs. I throw my head back as I realize what I've done. Oh, Lord, how could I have made it worse? Beau chuckles at my discomfort.

His hand is so close to my core that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It's also making me feel warmth between my thighs. After Beau seems to have gotten his own share of enjoyment from watching me make things worse for myself, he forces my thighs apart, and just before his hand moves away, he makes sure his knuckles brush my core. A gasp escapes my lips, and everyone in the room turns toward me. Oh my God, this was what I was trying to prevent.

"Please don't mind me," I say, clearing my throat. "Continue." Thankfully, everyone turns back to face my assistant.

I shoot Beau a glare. This is all his fault. His hand is above his mouth, probably to muffle his laughs. From his eyes, I can see how my body's reaction to his hand amuses him. I wish I could slap that smug look off his face right now. Asshole.

Apparently, he's content now that he succeeded in embarrassing me because he keeps his hands to himself for the rest of the meeting. Eventually, its starts to approach the end.