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Even slightly unkempt the way he is right now, Beau Eaton is fucking hot.
Maybe he’s overbearing, but after a lifetime of being ignored or lavished with negative attention, his concern wraps around me like a warm blanket. I feigned indifference, but I secretly got off on him tossing my brothers and their sketchy friend out of the bar. His violence doesn’t scare me. It should. In most cases, it does. But with Beau, it feels different. Somehow, his vicious streak soothes me.
