Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4)(65)

Dancing. Hair flowing wild and free. Big, bright, blue eyes piercing right at me. High cheekbones, pouty lips, long lashes, no make up on.

I flipped the page. Wings. The left one darker, feathers misplaced, falling off, dark shading. The right one, perfect, every feather intact and immaculately placed, light shading. Bows. Skull with roses around it. Writings in different fonts scattered, flowers cascading down. Everything was so intricately drawn.

I stopped to admire each and every one of them, running my fingers over the illustrations with tears in my eyes.

I never knew what he was drawing.

Not once.

Next page. A girl sleeping, her head placed on a pillow with her mouth partly open. The sheet covering up to her stomach. Her breasts perked up. She looked so peaceful. Beautiful. I swear I could see her breathing.

More tears.

Next page. Book covers, upon book covers, upon book covers.

Next page. A girl deep in thought, her eyes so sad, so lost. So f*cking captivating.

Every. Single. Page.

Every last one.

Was me.

But not me…

It wasn’t Briggs staring back at me. It was Daisy. He was able to capture every detail I so desperately tried to hide. Not knowing one thing about the girl behind the purple hair and tattoos, but somehow knowing everything.

“How the hell did you do this, Austin?” I asked myself out loud.

“It was easy. I just need to look at you.”

His voice startled me, making me jump. I never even heard the shower turn off. I didn’t bother to look up. I was too mesmerized, caught up in the talent bleeding through the pages of a girl that I thought didn’t exist anymore.

More tears filled my eyes for the second time that day. I couldn’t remember the last time I cried so much. Except for the first time in I don’t know how long…

They were tears of happiness.

“Why?” I found myself asking, terrified to know the answer.

I heard his footsteps coming toward me, each one louder than the last, till he sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of me. Reaching over to graze the side of my cheek with his fingers that no longer smelled like cigarettes.

A smell that I now craved.

“You’re my muse,” he simply stated, meaning each word.

I shut my eyes, the emotion too much for me to handle. He grabbed the notebook off my lap, throwing it on the couch beside me. Pulling me toward him effortlessly, making me straddle his lap. I could feel his arousal beneath me.

There I was wrapped in his arms, sincerely letting my guard down for the first time. I pressed my forehead up against his as he pulled the hair away from my face.

His eyes.

They did it to me every time.

There was so much emotion behind his gaze, and I knew it mirrored mine. There were no need for words. Our eyes spoke for themselves as his hands caressed the sides of my cheeks. Pulling my mouth toward his without any hesitation.

His lips were just as I remembered, f*ck, maybe even better. He sought out my tongue before I had the opportunity to find his, moaning into his mouth the second they collided.

His lips, his tongue, his hands.

I felt him everywhere and all at once and all we were doing was kissing. He was soft but demanding, controlling but passionate, and f*cking intense as all hell.

“Austin,” I erratically breathed, panting breaths on his lips.

“What, baby…” he groaned with the same sensual tone.

“I want you,” I managed to speak.

My thoughts.

My words.

They all seemed to be intertwined with one another.

“I want you more than I have ever wanted anyone in my entire life,” he confessed. “What’s your name? Tell me your name, and I’ll give you whatever the f*ck you want,” he replied between kisses.

I whimpered, begging, “Please.”

He smiled against my lips, gliding his hands down my body until he reached the edge of my panties and reaching down between my legs. I opened them wider for him. I knew he could feel my wetness through the silk when his fingers found my folds.

I shamelessly moaned, leaning my head back. Urging him to keep going.

He slipped my panties to the side and touched my * for the first time. I shuddered, kissing him deeper, harder, faster. His rough fingers moved to my opening, soaking up my wetness, sliding them back and forth on my clit.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he growled, thrusting them into my opening. “Ride my fingers, baby. Fuck my hand.”

No one had ever talked to me like that before. I swear to God I almost came from that alone.

He curved his fingers toward my sweet spot, pushing, pressing, and f*cking me while I swayed my hips with the same momentum.

“Please make me come. Please… no one has ever made me come before.”

He released a growl from deep within his chest, vibrating against my core. I opened my eyes needing to look at him even though we were still kissing. His eyes were already open, staring and taking me in.

Austin held all his secrets and told all his truths through his eyes.

He met my gaze and we moaned into each other’s mouths. He pulled away to rest his forehead along mine, wanting to watch me come undone while working me with his fingers. I could only imagine what his cock felt like.

“You like that, baby? Does that feel good? Huh? Tell me, tell me it feels good,” he huskily urged.