Losing Me, Finding You(14)

“This ain't a pleasure trip,” I tell her, hoping for her sake that she backs up or I don't know if I'm going to be able to control myself. “We're not just fancying around on pretty bikes and scoping the scenery. If you want to do that, go call the AMA. You don't want anything to do with Triple M. Shit, I don't even want anything to with Triple M.” Not anymore, I think, but I can't delve too deep into feeling sorry for myself. It's impossible to get wrapped up in my mind when my body is this stiff, pulsing with heat so hard it hurts. What the hell is it with this Amy girl?

“Please.” Just that one word, thrust at me with force and the weight of a gaze that's beyond desperate for something different, something new. Amy's fingers curl in my shirt, graze the skin on my chest hard enough to bruise as she lets her eyes flutter closed and parts her soft, wet lips.

Ah, shit, I think. Fuck this self-restraint bullshit.

I reach up and grab Amy's chin hard, pulling her forward so that she trips and falls fully against me, rubbing her breasts along my chest as my hand slides down and cups her ass, nice and firm. She yelps, but she doesn't say a word, eyes flickering open and locking onto mine without a hint of fear. A wicked smile curves my lips. I knew it. This girl might be a virgin, but she's not some innocent little doe; she wants this, maybe more than I do.

“Let me take care of you, baby. Whatever it is that's bothering you, I'll help you forget,” I say, pulling her face up to mine and crushing my lips against hers.



Chapter 8

Austin grabs me roughly and slams me into his firm body, grabbing my behind – ass, Amy, it's an ass – and searing my face with his hot mouth. A noise escapes me and sends goose bumps springing up on my arms and legs. It's a sound that I've never heard come from my throat and it's a bit startling. My mind, so used to analyzing everything, wants to focus on this, to force me away from this man that smells like oil and leather, but it loses out to the wants of my body. Long denied her basic right to feel human, she lifts my arms up of her own accord, rallying against my uncertainty and my trepidation at the unknown. My fingers tangle in Austin's sandy hair as his tongue slips into my mouth, teasing me with hot, slick strokes while his own fingers massage my butt with a ferocity that's almost frightening.

Oh dear, I realize as another moan slips out of me and mingles in the space of hot breath between Austin's and my mouth. You're just like my favorite book boyfriend. Now I know why I was so drawn to you. I try my best not to recall the very arousing scene in which Glance Serone thrusts his hard cock into the horribly sex-starved Miss Sali Bend.

I fail miserably.

And then I'm thinking about that scene and how many times I read it and how I rubbed myself in circles through the thick cotton of my very tasteful, very dull, laceless, nude panties.

“Austin,” I whisper as he steps forward and uses the weight of his body to get me right where he wants me. I want to keep kissing forever, tasting sultry Southern boy and good manners and a filthy f*cking mouth, but I think he has other plans.

“If you don't want this,” he whispers as he grazes my ear with his white, white teeth. “Then you better tell me now because once I get started, I ain't gonna be able to stop.”

How unfair, I think because really, there is no way that I can speak with scalding kisses being pressed to the side of my neck and my shoulder. Instead, another sound escapes my lips, bursting out into the air like a sigh of relief. Finally, I think. After all these years of reading about bad boys and alpha males and delicious men with ridiculous names, it's my turn. Mine. Mine. Sorry, Horse; Sorry, Kellan Kyle; Sorry, Ty McCabe; Sorry, Travis Maddox; Sorry, Gideon Cross. But I'm breaking up with all of you.

“That's what I thought.”

Austin Sparks crushes me against the pool table with his hips, the roughness of his jeans rubbing against the smoothness of my thighs as he pushes up my skirt with his warm hands.

“Get ready for this, beautiful.”

And then he's spinning me around, so suddenly that my mouth opens wide and my cheek (my unbruised one, thankfully) slams into the felt of the pool table.



Chapter 9

Austin, slow down, I tell myself as I come face to face with Amy's ass. Oh f*ck. If I had thought it was nice before, I think it's friggin' perfect now, nice and round and plump. I resist the urge to slap it, figuring that maybe that'd be a bit much for Cross to handle at the moment. One step at a time, Austin. I take a deep breath and wait for her to protest, to tell me to step off and f*ck off.

She doesn't.

Instead, Amy moans and wiggles the warmth of her body against my crotch. Shit, hell, and damn, I think as I unzip my jeans and reach into my back pocket for a condom. Think what you want about that, but it sure as shit comes in handy during moments like these.

“Better keep quiet,” I warn her as she moans and moves her hands back to brace herself like maybe she's done this before. I stare at the back of her head, at the long flow of silken hair, and even the brief thought of another man putting his hands on Amy sends me into this violet-eyed rage where I'm liable to start throwing punches. Her cheek, did she have a fight with a boyfriend? Without realizing what I'm doing, I squeeze her hip so hard that she yelps, and the sound of the bar comes crashing down around me – voices, glasses clinking, chairs sliding across the worn wood of the floor.