Roommate Arrangement (Divorced Men's Club #1)(63)

“What’s wrong?” Beau asks sleepily.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

His eyes snap open. “You’re not having regrets, are you?”

I laugh softly. “None.” It’s the opposite, but I can’t tell him that. I nod to my phone. “Been thinking and trying to work out what my next steps are.”

“And is there a reason you’re suddenly doing that right after sex with me?”

I lean forward and kiss him. “I promise there are no regrets. Stop stressing. I couldn’t sleep, and it’s no secret I’m not happy with where my life is at the moment.”

“Because of your job?”

“Yep.” And before he can doubt again, I add, “It’s like I’m twenty-two again and trying to build a life for myself. I’m a forty-year-old man starting from scratch, and that’s a huge deal to me.”

Beau shuffles up onto his elbows and looks down at me. “Why are you starting from scratch?”

“I have to find a job, a place to live—and yes I love living here with you, but it was only ever supposed to be short term. I need a place that’s mine. A place where I can settle and know that’s it for at least the next twenty years.”

“You could live here for twenty years.” He pouts, and it’s adorable.

I slap his bare ass. “And as much as I love living here and having regular sex with you, I need my own place. For me.”

He perks up. “Regular?”

“Of course you’d focus on that.” But it proves we’re on the same page. “But I’m not in a hurry to stop if you aren’t.”

“No rush on my end.”

“Good.” I know I shouldn’t say this next part, but I can’t stop myself. I want Beau to know that me wanting a place has nothing to do with not wanting him. “And even when I move out, I don’t think I’ll want to stop then either.”

“Payne, that, umm … that almost sounds close to a relation—”

I cover his mouth with my palm. “I really care about you, but there are things I want to figure out before jumping into whatever comes next.”

Still, when I remove my hand, his smile is enormous.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I warn.

“Like what?”

I roll on top of him, pressing him to the bed. Nose to nose, I kiss him. “Like I’m better than I am.”

“You do know that things aren’t what make you, right? I liked you before your job and fancy apartment. I liked you before getting married or divorced. I still like you because you’re working hard, no matter what it’s at, and you never make me feel …” His nose wrinkles. “Umm … different. You’re there for me in a way I’ve never had before. I’ve had you on this ridiculous pedestal our entire lives, and you’ve still managed to surpass the image I built.”

I sigh, pressing my forehead to his collarbone, not feeling worthy. “I don’t know what I did to deserve all that, but I’m going to earn it.”

“You already have.”

I cup his face and kiss him slowly, taking my time and enjoying the moment. He shifts, and his hard cock brushes my leg, and it almost makes me laugh. I’m nowhere near ready to go again, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help him out.

I break from his lips and push back, settling between his thighs. “My turn.” I swallow him to the root, then do everything I can to drive him mad. He tastes like soap and precum. It’s so fucking hot to watch the way my mouth drives him crazy, and when Beau squirms on the bed, one hand gripping my head, I tighten the suction and work him over as fast as I can.

His thighs flex as he comes, and seeing Beau lose his damn mind is something I don’t think I’ll ever be sick of. It’s glorious.

When he slumps back into the bed, I pull off and prop my head on his stomach. He’s still breathing deep, and his red lips are begging me to kiss him again, but somehow I manage to resist.

“Goddamn you’re good at that,” he says.

I pump my eyebrows. “I love it too.”

He lets out a long, happy exhale and strokes my hair for a minute before he shifts, and my phone lights up where I dropped it.

Beau gestures to it. “What were you looking at?”

I reach over and open the page again, showing it to him.

“Trent’s land?”

“I was trying to think of ideas on what it could be used for, but it’ll be too expensive.”

“What ideas did you have?”

“A summer camp was one of them.”

He nods, and I can tell he’s thinking. I give him time. “A summer camp limits the market though, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess. This town is seasonal though.”

“It is, but you need to make a living the rest of the year.”

He’s right. “Like I said, just daydreaming.”

“Well, hold on. I think you’re on the right track.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, and then it pops out again as his face lights up. “You could do the summer camp and then through the rest of the year offer something that would cater to schools.”

“What do you mean?”