Rekindling Old Flames

CHAPTER EIGHT

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.

"I would like to celebrate our partnership with a dinner party this Saturday and want you to be my date," Beau says after we finish signing the contract.

"No." I don't even think about it before refusing.

"I insist, Delilah; I want the whole world to know of our partnership," Beau says, smiling.

"Why?" I ask, gazing into his eyes for answers. Why does he want to publicly announce our partnership? It's not necessary. But there is a seriousness in his eyes for the first time since Beau walked into this building. I can tell he is pleading with me to agree. Why is this so important? I want to ask, but knowing Beau, he wouldn’t tell me even if I did.

"What do you say, Delilah?"

I look to Camila to see if she is okay with it before I answer. She nods slightly.

"What color tie are you wearing? I want to match my dress to it," I say with a smirk. An idea for getting back at Beau for what he did today pops into my head. I have the perfect way to rile him up. Saturday can’t come fast enough. The look on his face when he picks me up will be priceless.

"Black," Beau says.

"Then black is what I'll be wearing." I smile as the perfect dress appears in my mind. Saturday is going to be one hell of a day for Beau Williams.

***

After the meeting, Camila and I say goodbye to Beau and his lawyers before walking to my office.

"Would you like to explain why you were moving so much in your chair during that meeting?"

"I am so sorry about that; Beau kept bothering me."

"Bothering you? Did he play with your legs or something?" Camila chuckles as she sits on my couch.

"Unfortunately, yes, he did. I wish I could chop off those hands of his."

"Oh my God, what did he do?"

I tell Camila everything.

"Wow, Beau is bolder than he looks. I can't believe he did that while we were all in the room," Camila smiles in disbelief, shaking her head.

"Tell me about it; I don't even know what I would've done if someone had seen him." I can still feel Beau's fingers on my skin. I expect goosebumps to form, and feel the urge to puke but instead I join my legs together as I remember his knuckles brushing my core.

"I know I wouldn't have said anything if I did."

"Of course, you wouldn't have." I roll my eyes at her.

"You are so lucky you are dark-skinned. I can bet if you were fair skinned, you would've been red as a tomato with his hands roaming your legs, and you’d have been given up immediately," "God! I wish someone would do that to me during a business meeting. It would be so sexy." Camila says in a longing tone.

"Are you serious right now, Camila? Do you know that could be classified as s****l harassment?"

"s****l harassment, my ass. You and I both know you loved Beau's hands on your legs."

"I did not!"

"You're lying."

"I hate you."

"You don't hate me; you love me. You just hate that I’m right." Camila says, chuckling.

"Maybe," I answer, rolling my eyes once again at her smart ass.

Camila pulls my hands and takes them into hers. I stare at her, confused, but it’s clear she’s worried about something.

"I know what Beau did all those years ago was horrible. I can't imagine the trauma you must be experiencing right now. Your body must want Beau all over it, but your heart can't risk another heartbreak. I wish I could tell you this is a fight you will win, but I can't. I am not saying you should give in, but don't beat yourself up too much if you do. I know nothing serious has happened, but you guys have a past, and the way you broke up was messy and filled with so many unanswered questions. I just want you to be strong, my friend. You were able to live without him for so many years. You will be able to do it again," Camila says, placing a little peck on the back of my palm.

"With you by my side, I believe I can do anything," I say, hugging her.

As we pull apart, someone sniffles by the door.

"You guys are going to make me cry," Tamara says, wiping away her tears.

"When did you get here?" I ask.

"While Miss World here was giving her speech," Tamara answers, using the nickname we gave Camila due to her tanned skin, gorgeous green eyes, raven black hair, and sexy curves. If she hadn't become an engineer, she would've been one hell of a supermodel.

"Stop calling me that." Camila glares at Tamara.

"I’ll never stop. How did the meeting go?" Tamara walks away from the door and joins Camila and me on the couch.

Camila and I inform Tamara how eventful the meeting was. I also tell the girls my plan for Saturday. Tamara laughs when she hears my revenge plot. She knows my idea will work, and Beau will hate what I have in store for him. It makes me excited and impatient for Saturday to get here; I can't wait.