Losing Me, Finding You(30)

The door opens behind me, but I ignore it, too focused on trying to cool myself down.

“Austin?”

Ah, shit.

“Amy.”

I turn around and come face to face with those round eyes, glossy lips, and curvy body. Even her ugly, purple dress can't hide the swell of hips and the long, lean thighs beneath. The burning turns into an blaze that makes my hands squeeze into fists by my sides. I feel like a friggin' volcano that's about to explode. Long as I can explode inside of Amy, I'll be happy.

“What are you … what are you doing here?” she asks, mouth trembling, little brown bag clutched up against her chest. See, that's what I like about little Miss Amy, what drew me to her in the first place when I saw her bent over that Road King, ass out like she was waiting for it. She looks like she's afraid, like she's nervous or shy or demure or some shit, but she's not. That tremble, that shake, those watery eyes. Amy's feeling the same way I do, like she's got fire bottled up inside and it's all waiting to come out.

“Why, I'm here to see you, sugar.”

My hand comes out real fast and wraps Amy's wrist, dragging her forward so that the bag gets crushed between our chests.

“Oh my,” she gasps as I press my mouth against hers and breathe in her scent. She's soft as shit, warm and pliable. Goddamn, I wish she was mine. I slide my hand up her back, tangle my fingers in her crunchy hair and wonder what idiot was stupid enough to spray crap onto that beautiful silk. I grab at it and pull, even as she yelps into my mouth and squirms, struggles to pull away. I tear the metal pins out and throw them to the ground at our feet. “Austin, stop,” she whimpers as I reach between us and grab her paper bag. A quick look inside tells me there ain't nothing worth saving there, just a pair of panty hose and some pills.

“Don't worry, beautiful. I'll buy you some new ones.” I toss the bag into the nearby trash can and drag Amy into the alleyway between the grocery store and the brick apartment complex that stands next to it.

She doesn't resist, scurrying along behind me in her ugly shoes and breathing hard through her nose.

“I can't, Austin. There's a … a wedding … I … ”

I ain't about to do a pretty girl like Amy against the side of the dumpster, so I drag her further down the alley until I see a small, fenced in patio that comes off the back of the bottom floor apartment. There's a little gate and a nice, sturdy lookin' table and chairs.

Ah, that'll do. That'll do just fine.



Chapter 24

I follow Austin down an alleyway and much as I'd like to pretend that I don't know what I'm doing, I do. I really, really do. He's going to f*ck me again. My body starts to tingle, to heat up where Austin's hand is wrapped around my wrist.

“My … my wedding,” I gasp out as Austin shoves his way through a gate and kicks aside what's actually a very nice chair. I can't imagine that the people whose patio this is are going to be very happy if they walk out and find me and Austin … engaged with one another.

He spins me around quick and grabs me by the hips, sliding me onto the tabletop and stepping between my legs like he belongs there. My hands run up his chest and tangle in the fabric of his T-shirt.

“I have to get back to the wedding,” I say weakly, watching the shimmer of sunlight on Austin's sandy hair, moving my questing fingers from his chest to his arms, touching the tattoos there with reverence. I'd like to have a tattoo someday. That's the first thing I'm going to do when I get out of here, I think as Austin's eyes darken and a growl slips out from between his scarred lips.

“Weddin'?” I look into his face and suddenly I'm filled with the urge to explain, to tell him everything about my life, but he doesn't give me the chance. Austin grabs me by the back of my neck and thrusts his tongue into my mouth, biting and tasting and nipping at me with his teeth while he manipulates the fabric that separates us and slides into me, bursting me apart at the seams. Austin's cock burns my aching soreness with hard strokes while his fingers dig into my flesh so rough they bruise. He rams me against the table which grinds across the pavement and slams into the fence of the patio with a crash.

I close my eyes tight, and I try not to look at Austin's face or down below where our bodies meet.

What are you doing, Amy? I wonder, thinking about my family and what they're going to do when I don't show up for the ceremony.

“Fuck 'im,” Austin says, grabbing me under the chin and turning my face up to his. I keep my eyes locked shut.

“Excuse me?” I whimper, holding back a chorus of moans that are clawing at the back of my throat. There's already a pretty damn good chance we're going to get seen back here. If I start letting it all out, calling Austin's name and groaning like one of the characters in my books, then they're for sure going to catch us. I bite my lip to keep quiet.

“Fuck the guy who did this,” Austin growls and all I can think is, I couldn't agree more.

I spread my legs as wide as I can and welcome Austin in, clutching his sweaty biceps with my hands and wishing we had all day to play together. I'd like to get a look at what he's got under his shirt, taste the muscles there with my tongue, let him push his dick inside my mouth, so I can watch the expression on his face. I think, perhaps, that maybe I'm a bit addicted to this whole sex thing, never wondering if there's just something about Austin Sparks that's catching my interest. Then again, I just met the man yesterday, so how am I supposed to know that?