Mischief in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #2)(64)

He was hard and ready, and Sabine moaned as he pressed his hips into hers. He broke off their kiss and began trailing kisses down her neck until he was at the sensitive flesh just at the vee of her blouse. Sabine sucked in a breath, then gasped as he pulled her blouse aside and lowered her lacy bra just enough to take one hardened nipple into his mouth. He slowly swirled his tongue, sending her into fits of pleasure.

Knowing there was no going back now, Sabine slid her hand across the front of Beau’s jeans, stroking the long, hard length of him through the denim. He paused for a moment, his breathing irregular. Then with one swift motion, he lifted her off the floor and gently laid her on the bed. He unbuttoned her blouse and expertly removed her bra, then lowered himself to continue his erotic assault of her breasts. As his mouth worked its magic, he unbuttoned her pants and slid one hand inside.

For the first time in weeks, Sabine thanked God she didn’t wear underwear.

He found her sensitive spot and swirled his fingers around it, matching the pace of his tongue on her nipple. Sabine felt the pleasure building in her until she was afraid she would explode. She placed her hand over his and gasped. “Wait. I want it to be together.”

Beau nodded and leaned down to kiss her deeply, his tongue dancing with hers. Then he rose from the bed and shrugged off his clothes. Sabine sucked in a breath when she looked at him, so hard and hot and so totally male. She reached out with one hand and circled the length of him, then ran her hand up and down, squeezing slightly every time she approached the tip. Beau closed his eyes and groaned, and she increased the pace.

Mere seconds later, he moved her hand away and rolled on protection, then rose over her on the bed. He leaned down to kiss her, then entered her in a single stroke. Sabine gasped with pleasure and clutched his back, digging her nails into his skin. She thrust her hips up to match his strokes. As they found their natural rhythm, she felt the pressure building in her.

“Now, Beau,” she whispered, “I can’t hold it any longer.”

“Yes,” Beau said as he moved with increased intensity. Suddenly his body stiffened. “Now.”

The orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, every nerve ending in her body responding. They cried out at the same time and Sabine clutched his back, pulling him deep inside her as the pleasure rolled over her again and again.

Beau leaned back in the bed against the stack of pillows and Sabine lay against him. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to control his warring emotions. He couldn’t lose her and knew his only chance was to convince her to give up her newfound family and anything that went along with them.

“Sabine,” he said quietly, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

Sabine shifted a bit so that she could look up at him. “What is it?”

Beau took a breath, trying to decide how to begin, how to end, how to explain the horror, the heartache, the devastation. Finally, he decided to start at the beginning. “I was raised by a foster family. When I was two years old, my mother gave me to nuns at a church in New Orleans and left.”

Sabine’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why?”

“The nuns didn’t know why. She’d only said she couldn’t take care of me and asked them to give me to someone that could. Then she left. The nuns tried to locate her or my father, but she didn’t give them any name. She didn’t tell them where she was from or where she was going. She simply gave me to the nuns and disappeared.”

“So the nuns raised you?”

“No, they gave me to a couple from the church who couldn’t have children. They were thrilled to take me and were wonderful parents. I will always be grateful to them.”

“But you wanted to know.”

Beau nodded. “I had to know why a woman would raise a child for two years, then abandon him to strangers. Why she would never come back to get him. What kind of person could do that, and why? When I joined the FBI, I chose to specialize in missing persons. Every single day, I tried to find people who had vanished, and every night I applied my new skills to finding the answer to my own private mystery.”

“And did you ever find them?”

“Yes. I won’t go into all the details, except to say that it took six long years of digging before I caught a break. I’d found a man who might be my father.” Beau ran one hand through his hair. “I was working in D.C. at the time, but I booked the first flight to New Orleans and drove a couple of hours to a small town north of the city. When the man opened his door, I knew at once that I’d found half of my answer. It was like looking into a mirror twenty years away.”

Sabine shifted in the bed so that she could face him, her torso propped against his chest. “What did he say?”

“He didn’t say anything for a while. Then finally he said, ‘I guess your momma sent you.’ I told him I didn’t know my mother and that I’d been raised by a foster family. That I’d been looking for him and my mother for over six years. He invited me in and I thought that was it. I was about to get all the answers I’d been searching for. The puzzle would be complete.”

“But you didn’t?”

“No. He didn’t know where my mother was. In fact, he hadn’t seen her since that very day she’d left me with the nuns. She’d been going to visit her sister in Mississippi, or at least that’s what she’d told him. He’d driven her to the bus station and bought her a ticket to Gulfport. Her sister called that night, wanting to know why we weren’t on the bus. The ticket had been collected at the exchange in New Orleans and her luggage was on the bus when it reached Gulfport but there was no sign of my mother.”