Grump’s City Girl (Boots and Heels #2)

15. Beau

Chapter 15

Beau

I knew I should be paying attention to whatever was on that screen above us, but fuck my life… Cassie’s hands on my scalp were pulling me into a stupor and making my cock hard at the same time.

Thank God attention was not on me, or they would have spotted the enormous bulge in my pants, but to make sure, I drew my knees up—you never knew what these sneaky cameras would be up to.

“Let's look at one of the highlights,” Sutton said. Ariana cocked the remote, and wouldn’t you know it, Cassie and I popped up on the screen the very second she twisted her arm and jumped on my back—in slo-mo.

I watched, pride puffing my chest, when I raced through the tires and headed to the swing, Cassie’s mouth near my ear, her lips moving. I could only suspect that was when she was directing me to go straight. Then, it shifted to another couple, Rome and Alice, who, with their wrists bound, took a similar tactic.

With her right foot up in the air, Rome held her to his side and practically jumped through the whole length of the tires on his own. Then, we got a shot of Ryker and Danielle, their arms wrapped tight around each other as they jumped, in time, through the tires.

“Now…” Ariana said, “Some not so impressive.”

Sissy cringed into herself. “Oh God.”

The camera shifted to Nelly and Quentin, who had their ankles tied and were a disaster; the hold they had on each other—holding hands—was shoddy and loose enough that they slipped and slid, flailed like a fish out of water, stumbling over the last tire. But at least they did pass it. Jonas and Sissy were another story.

Standing on the sideline, Sissy, in her trademark heels, gingerly stepped into the tires like a diva on ice. Jonas was mouthing at her, probably telling her to get a move on it, but she didn’t listen and kept on inching her way through the course.

“Jesus,” Cassie whispered.

It got worse. Quentin had a fear of heights and nearly damn well fainted at the top of the climbing wall while Sissy didn’t even get that far. They didn’t even get to the rope swing, much less the end of the course. Emory and Amy barely made it to the end, with Amy doubling over on herself and heaving.

They clicked that part of the recording off, but then Ariana shifted to show me and Cassie at the climbing wall with a smirk, and my words returned to me.

“Don’t let go,” I murmured while watching myself hold onto a ledge. “I trust you… I trust you, baby. Keep going.”

Eyes swung to me and Cassie again, but I kept my face neutral. Then it clipped to me and Cassie, kissing in the rain. I knew it was me, but fuck if it didn’t look like some cheesy rom-com.

“Baby,” Sutton echoed. “Quite telling, isn’t it? Is there something we should know, Beau?”

I bit the inner part of my cheek, then said, “Old habits die hard, I guess. It… slipped.”

“And Cassie?” Sutton asked, “How did you react to that?”

“I didn’t,” she said while still raking her fingers through my hair. “As he said, it was a habit, but baby was not Beau’s first nickname for me. When we first met, he called me Spitfire. As a matter of fact, he went through a few pet names before one stuck; he called me Stargazer, Sweet Pea, Baby Girl, and the one I hated the most?—”

“Peaches,” I said. “I think I was drunk on moonshine when I got that one cocked up in my head.”

Snickers ran through the backyard, and even with her hand in my hair, I tilted my head back to her. “I’m sorry about that one.”

“I know,” she replied. “Just never do it again. Now fix your head so that I can get to the knots in your neck, stubborn cowboy.”

So, I did.

“Huh,” Sutton spun on his heels, hands still firmly tucked in his pockets, and looked at Ariana. “That’s something, isn’t it?”

“I’d say,” she replied. “Well, needless to say, you two have once again stolen the show. However, we turn to the two teams on the bottom, Sissy and Jonas… Quentin and Nelly. This round will show us which of you two pairs decided on staying here.”

Quentin looked stressed. “What do you need us to do?”

“A simple game of Two Truths and a Lie,” Sutton said. “When you all came, we acquired a few facts about each of you that I hope each of you has shared with the other. Each of you will write out two truths about yourself and a lie, and the other person has to tell us which one of those facts is the lie. If your teams win, you stay, simple as that.”

“And if you didn’t pick up on it, it's one shot,” Ariana added. “Get it right, and you stay; get it wrong, and sadly you’re gone. Please come up here and pick up these whiteboards. When we say go, you’ll have to write down the answer, two truths and a lie, and the other person has to identify the lie. You can only win if both answers are correct; one correct and one incorrect still puts you as the loser.”

Cassie’s fingertips started a soothing circle on my scalp, and goddamit, even with the tense air around us, I still fucking melted under her touch.

They took seats across from each other, and at Sutton’s command, they wrote. To their credit, Sutton gave them three full minutes before calling time. “Nelly and Quentin, you’re first. Nelly?”

“I grew up with grandma, I hate spring pollen in Georgia, and I tried to pledge Phi Mu, Theta Zeta in college,” she said.

“Quentin?” Ariana replied. “Which is it?”

“Grandma,” he said. “She grew up with her grandad, not grandma.”

“Point,” Sutton replied. “That one is true. Sissy, your turn.”

She turned her board. “I hate white chocolate. I once kissed a European royal. And I had a poster of Madonna on the wall during my teen years.”

Jonas rubbed his forehead, and I could see the gears working in his head while his eyes darted this way and that. Finally, he spoke, “You met a European royal; you never kissed him. That’s the lie.”

Nodding, Ariana announced, “That’s correct. Next round. Jonas?”

Spinning the board, he read out, “I watched cartoons until I was seventeen. I hate tofu. I used to sing in the church choir.”

Her spine snapped up, and Sissy looked as if she’d gotten hit with a bat. . “I-I…”

“Take your time, Sissy,” Ariana said calmly. “Think it through.”

Those words seemed to go through one ear and out the other; she hunched inside herself and dropped her eyes to the ground. Cassie’s fingers paused a little on my scalp but picked up soon enough while Sissy grew paler and paler.

“Um… Choir?”

The air felt charged, and Sutton dragged the moment out before he said, “Sissy… I am sorry, that’s wrong. He did sing, but he likes tofu… that is the lie.”

I let out a breath. “Damn.”

Turning to Quentin, Ariana—and the cameras—followed. “Quentin, it is your time to either even the score and we go to sudden death, or you can come out the winner. What are your answers?”

“I was once a vegan,” Quentin cleared his throat and turned the board around, “I took a 37-hour road trip crossing from California to Florida, and I like the Beatles.”

Nelly nearly burst out laughing. “You hate the Beatles.”

“…True,” Sutton said, and the hammer dropped before the air seemed to be sucked out of all our lungs. “As of now, you’ve won. You’ll be here another week. Sissy and Jonas, we’re sorry to see you go, but this is the end of the road for you two.”

Her hand slipped to the back of my neck while Jonas pulled Sissy into his arms and hugged her tightly. “It’s not your fault. It's okay,” he said, pressing his lips into her temple. “We’re all right, Sissy. I’m still here.”

After giving them a moment, Sutton turned to the rest of us. “We’ll see the rest of you next week. Get some rest, and we cannot stress this enough: get to know the person you are paired with. It will be your survival or death. Good night, guys and girls.”

The cameras ran a few more seconds, panning over each of us, then at Liliana’s, “Cut!” they all went black. Cassie’s sigh was audible, and she said, “That sucks.”

“Did you know her well?” I asked.

“Not as well as I should have,” she replied. “She could have been a good friend, but I guess I missed my chance when I dismissed her as a ditz. I shouldn’t have, and I should have known better.”

“Jonas is a good guy,” I muttered. “A good farmer with a genius idea on how to spin a dime and use what he’s got to his advantage. I’m sorry to see him go.”

Cassie pulled away. “I think Rome copied us.”

“Good,” I sat up, already missing her hands on my head. Sucking in a breath, I tried to quell the heat simmering in my blood. Cassie didn’t know what she’d done to me, and if I had any goddamn sense, I would keep it that way.

Getting to my feet, I helped her up and moved an errant lock from her face. “I’m sorry I didn’t get us kicked off this week either.”

She snickered. “I don’t think anyone wants us to go either, and to be honest, I forgot about the agreement to get off the show early, too. Maybe we can stage a fight next week, go at each other’s throats, and throw it off then? I don’t know, but we still have some time. Don’t sweat it, Beau.”

Before I pulled away, I said, “Do you want to get out of here tomorrow? I’ve got to go pick up a couple of metric tons of plaster for a cabin we’re renovating, and I need a breath of fresh air. Plus, I think we’re off the hook tomorrow for filming anyway. They’ve got three weeks of material in what, nine days?”

“How do you know we’ve got time off?” she asked, her eyelashes fluttering. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to go, but how are you so sure?”

“C’mon,” I nodded to the house. “I’ll tell you inside.”

I couldn’t help it; the moment I got into my shower, the arousal I’d held back by a fraying thread of control and thick denim jeans took over. The fantasies spiraled through my head like a film reel.

Images of Cassie bent over my desk, her jeans gone, just wearing her boots and oversized sweaters, grabbing the edge of a table while her tight pussy clamped over my cock…

Cassie on her knees, hands on my thighs, as my swollen cock slipped between her red lips, and she looked up at me, pure hunger in her eyes…

Cassie, sitting on my lap, riding my cock reverse cowgirl, my hands cupping her breasts as she lifted and fell, circling her hips, crying out…

Pleasure slammed through my gut so hard I grabbed at the faucet. There was a reality world beyond this room, the truth that this relationship was all smoke and mirrors, but I didn’t give a damn about any of it. I wanted Cassie.

I wanted to take my time teasing her, finger her silky pussy until she couldn’t take it anymore, then put my mouth on her, eating her until she cried out her first release.

A long, ragged groan escaped my throat, and each powerful stroke brought me closer to euphoria.

How would her long legs feel wrapped around my hips as I thrust into her wetness? How would her entire body feel, slick and soft, writhing beneath me? What would it take to turn her moans into desperate whimpers? Would she scream when I pounded into her? Would she grab at me, sink her fingers into my hair, score my back with her nails?

Or would she want a slower, deeper fuck?

Would she prefer me to enter her with such slow precision that we could both feel an inch of my cock inside her? What words would drip from her lips as I stroked inside her, deep and lazily, sensually and tantrically? Would I kiss her with my cock lodged to the hilt inside?

The water rippled around my shuttling fist over the desperate strokes as my fantasies grew baser and more intense. A fantasy of her on her back, of her riding me, her breasts bouncing with every hard thrust, took me to the edge. Her cries made me thrust harder, faster, deeper. I could feel her spasming around me.

Heat exploded from my balls, my cum boiling up and jetting onto the wall in copious torrents. Even after the shudders faded, I couldn’t stop pumping into her, continuing to claim her with gentle strokes.

Slamming a forearm on the tile, I sucked in harsh breaths while the water rained over my head and down my back. As the burn faded from my lungs, I knew one thing was for sure: I needed to have Cassie in my bed, under me, around me… I’d make her mine, damn well soon.