Boiling Point (Crossing the Line #3)(51)

As if her desperation for a distraction had called it forth, Reitman’s credit card statement popped up on screen. This was her twice-daily ritual: checking for activity, searching for a way into his world. Normally, if he made a rare purchase on credit, whatever goods or services he’d procured would serve to strengthen her thirst for retribution. She sorely needed the benefit of anger now when uncertainty over Austin overshadowed everything she’d worked toward.

A tuxedo rental showed at the very bottom of the list. For Saturday’s party? Likely. It must have been an expensive one, because the fee was over a thousand dollars. Paid for with stolen money. Money Austin helped him steal?

A knock at Polly’s front door brought her head up, kicked her adrenaline twenty-seven notches higher. Austin was going to be inside her apartment for the first time in mere seconds. The same way she’d done at his barren two-bedroom in Lincoln Park, he would take in every detail with one sweep of his gorgeous eyes and just like that, he would learn more about her. What would that something be?

Polly tucked the short ends of her hair behind one ear, turned the ancient dead bolts, and opened the door. Austin captured her attention first, because hello. One forearm was propped against the doorframe, drawing up the hem of his gray long-sleeved T-shirt, revealing crucial inches of his ridged stomach. It reminded her of how he’d looked in the chair, legs splayed. Naked. Had she really come that close to taking him in her mouth and resisted? His knowing gaze told her he was wondering the same damn thing. Arrogant jerk. Why did his unabashed cockiness suddenly make her want to laugh?

Beside Austin, Bowen made an impatient noise. “Do you two want to be alone?” He slung an arm around Sera, who appeared busy trying to hide a smile. “We’ve got better things to do than watch some freaky peep show.”

“Oh yeah?” Austin lowered his arm from the doorframe. “Like what?”

“Finding out why we’re here, for one,” Sera said.

“Or pretty much anything else you can think of,” Bowen responded, guiding Sera into Polly’s apartment like she was made of glass. “Let’s get this over with.”

That left Austin standing in the doorway. His focus on her was as unnerving as it was arousing, starting a down-low pulse she now associated with him. Not willing to give her weakness for him away so soon after that morning, Polly stepped aside in one brisk move to let him in, but he grabbed her wrist and tugged her out into the hallway. “We’ll only be a moment,” he called to Bowen and Sera. “Name your future children or something.”

“What are you doing?” Polly asked as the apartment door clicked shut. “What do Bowen and Sera have to do with our plan?”

He released a shhh against her mouth. Which should have triggered her knee slamming into his nuts, but sent a ribbon of lust twirling in her stomach instead. As if he could sense the exact location of her chemical reaction, his thumb pressed two inches below her belly button. “You need to relax.”

“Excuse me?”

Austin made a humming noise. “When you answered the door, your shoulders were up near your ears, sweet. I don’t like seeing you overwrought.” He leaned back to run calculating eyes over her form, an invisible motor churning in his gorgeous head. Seeing everything.

When his thumb left her belly to grasp her hip, turning her toward the wall, Polly protested. “Come on. What—”

She broke off on a moan when his thumb found the small of her back, an inch to the right of her spine, massaging with pressure so perfect in its accuracy, it made her sway. Even his chuckle didn’t score her pride enough to order him to stop. Shit. How had he known exactly where to touch? Stupid question. This was Austin. Her tension had grown throughout the day. Over him. Over Reitman. His thumb moved to the left side of her spine, giving the new area his singular brand of treatment. “There now. That’s better.”

“I h-hate you.”

He made a sound of disappointment. “Here I am trying to make you well and you’re taking shots at me.” She could hear his audible swallow behind her. “Apologies don’t come easy to me, but I’m harboring a fair bit of regret over this morning. You deserved…holding. There will be holding next time, Polly.”

When his words struck their target, a target shaped suspiciously like a heart, she scrambled to compensate for the fear that realization instilled. He was admitting he made a mistake, and for Austin, that was tantamount to a moonlight serenade delivered on bended knee. Did she want him to feel enough for her that he would learn new tricks, such as apologies? “I never said I needed holding from you.”

“I’m well aware. But the fact remains that holding is in your future. By me.” His big palm dropped to her bottom, and Polly’s frown eased into a smirk. Thank God. He’d made the moment sexual, so she could end it. Figure out what these inconvenient feelings meant later, when he wasn’t there to overwhelm.

But then…oh God. His thumb dug into the flesh of her right cheek and endorphins rushed through her veins with the effect of a hallucinogen. “Oh Lord. What are you even doing to me?”

Another dark male chuckle, this one more strained than the last. “Your ass muscles are sore because they flex when I bang you.” His breath fanned her neck, and she felt it everywhere. Her nipples. The insides of her thighs. “That little flex gives you the qualities of being adorable and f*ck-hot at the same time. The adorable half made me feel goddamn lecherous when I took you from behind this morning. Why do you think I needed to come so fast?”