"You know, when Lucas was born, I thought Elijah would come through for us. I thought he'd settle into a better paying job, that he'd be more responsible," I say after a while.
"But he didn't."
I shake my head slowly. "He kept drifting from one gig to another. I don't know, maybe I romanticized him a little too much. Maybe I fell in love with his potential, not with the man standing right in front of me. And when I realized he would never evolve beyond that point, I was pregnant with Ava." I pause and take a deep breath. "I'm sorry. This isn't exactly a topic befitting a relaxing day in the Hamptons."
"Nonsense. We can talk about whatever you want. Life is messy and complicated. People let us down. We hit rock bottom. But then we find our way back to the surface. Nobody is meant to stay down for too long. You're a fighter, ma cherie. You're just tired and in desperate need of a recharge before you can pick up your shield and sword and fight your way back to the top."
"No wonder Theo was so fond of you, guys," I giggle. "She was right. You're way more down to earth than most guys in your position."
"Don't you dare say rich guys."
"Rich guys." I watch him cringe and laugh my ass off. "But you are rich, though."
"It doesn't define me. It doesn't define us," Beau chuckles. "Money is just a means to an end. I never sought to hoard it like Scrooge McDuck. It's useful to have more of it than less, but it shouldn't be the core of the human experience. Do you think I cared about money when I was kicking a ball across the pitch?"
I shake my head again. "No."
"It was all about the game. I loved playing. I never cared about ticket sales or endorsements. Sure, I loved the sponsorships because they provided me with better gear, but that was it. I enjoyed the parties and the social events, but everything, absolutely everything that most saw as the ultimate perks were really just a means to an end for me. I just wanted to play."
I give him a long look, nearly drowning in the dark pools of his eyes. His chaise lounge is close enough to mine for me to reach out and touch him, but I'm not bold enough yet. Maybe a couple more glasses of prosecco will loosen me up some more. "What do you want to do now? I mean, you've been out of the game for how long?"
"Almost five years. I retired early. The knee injury didn't end my career, but I wasn't performing like before, either. It took some of the fun out of it, and to be honest, I needed a change."
Do you miss it?"
"I do. I play with friends now. Once a month, I coach some kids down in Portland. I'd love to open a school there, something big with a giant field and housing opportunities for the less advantaged. Lots of kids don't get to play sports because their parents can barely afford to put a roof over their heads."
"That would be amazing," I reply. "There are so many at-risk kids in Portland right now."
"All they need is a little bit of support," he says. "I'd like to be able to provide them with that. Who knows? Maybe the next Maradona will come out of Portland."
"You're a good man, and I mean it from the bottom of my heart."
Beau sits up and faces me, watching me for a while. I'm still dressed, but I feel naked under his eyes. The corners of his mouth stretch into a lazy smile, and the plumpness of his lips makes my skin tingle. I can feel my nipples hardening, poking through the fabric, and I can see his gaze briefly wandering downward just in time to spot them. He licks his lips, then leans closer.
I hold my breath. He kisses me. It is a deep, dark, and sensual kind of kiss. It rattles me to the core as I abandon myself against his lips. A split-second later, he's down on one knee, one hand cupping my cheek. Our tongues play, licking and tasting what each of us has to offer. I enjoy the hints of prosecco and the rugged smell of him, the roughness of his stubble tickling my chin.
"You taste like summer in a bottle," Beau whispers, then kisses me again.
His hunger unravels as I receive him. His other hand finds my shoulder first, nonchalantly exploring that bit of bare skin before it goes wandering over my breasts. He holds one firmly, squeezing and massaging until he hears me moan. He licks my upper lips and gazes deep into my eyes as he fondles me, as he touches and claims every inch of me.
"Beau…" I manage, my eyes damn near rolling in my head when his fingers lift the bottom of my dress and his fingers trail invisible lines up my thigh. His touch is electric, thousands of jolts running through my body and gathering in my belly.
"I know you're ready for me," he says.
Instinctively, I part my legs as his hand moves between them. I suck in a breath when his fingertips glide over the cotton fabric of my panties and he feels the wetness seeping through. His smile dissolves into a hungry glare as he kisses me. It's a hard and possessive kiss, his breath intensifying as he pulls the fabric aside so he can slide his fingers between my wet folds.
"Oh… yes…" I hiss when he finds my swollen nub ready for him. "Yes, I'm ready for you."
"Good," Beau says.
The sound of doors opening freezes me in the chaise lounge, but his smile befuddles me. "Who's there?" I ask, my voice but a whisper.
"I don't want you to be alarmed, it's okay. I just figured you'd be more at ease with all of us together."
"Huh?" I manage and try to get up, but Beau glides two fingers inside me, and I clench around them, panting as the wave of arousal burns through me. "Beau, what's going on?"
To my astonishment, Isaac walks in. I want to jump out of the chaise lounge, but I can't bring myself to leave this incredible sensation behind. Isaac is joined by Noah and Levi. My heart jumps and swells and screams at the same time, horror washing over me in waves of hot and cold. But Beau keeps finger-fucking me, slowly and surely as my eyes dart from one man to the other.