I skim my fingers over the lingering injury and Austin shivers at my touch, lowering his forehead to mine. Our eyes lock, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he stands and carries me to the couch. He lays me on my back, his weight pressing me into the cushions as his hips rock against mine, his cock grinding against my core with tantalizing precision. I wriggle and arch my back, trying desperately to get closer to him, to meld my body to his. An impossible feat with his stupid jeans. They need to go.
Like, right now.
I grab for his belt, shaky hands fumbling with the buckle. Austin seals his lips to mine, a hot brand that confirms I’m not the only one anxious to get to O-town. I manage to unclasp his belt and flick open the button on his jeans. He climbs to his feet and I gasp at the loss of contact, my swollen lips abandoned as he unzips his fly and shoves his pants to the floor, revealing the long, thick cock that’s left me blissed-out more nights than not since we made our little deal.
I swear it’s the stuff of fantasies. Or romance novels.
Best of all, he knows how to use it.
Which is why tonight, I want to do something for him. I sit up and take his cock in my hand. With a firm grip, I stroke him from root to tip, relishing the feel of his silky skin against my palm. Austin’s eyelids droop and he sighs. The sound is rough and jagged and full of unspoken need.
My body clenches in response, urging me on. There’s a bead of moisture on the head of his cock and I lick it off, my tongue darting out to tease the unflappable QB. He throws his head back and groans, sending a thrill up my spine.
There’s something empowering about having this hulk of a man surrender to my touch, giving up control in exchange for the pleasure I offer. It feels…right. And I know that when the time comes, my own orgasm will be explosive, so I take him in my mouth, working him with my tongue as he tangles his fingers in my hair, guiding me. I lose myself in Austin, licking and sucking and teasing as he chants my name like a prayer.
“Fuuuck.” He abruptly pulls me to my feet.
Shit. Did I do something wrong?
But no, he’s reaching for my tank top, dragging it over my head and freeing my breasts. He cups them in his large palms, stroking lazy circles around my hardened nipples as I shimmy out of my shorts. When I stand naked before him, he rolls on a condom and tugs me down on the couch so I’m straddling him.
His normally bright eyes are dark with lust, and when he looks at me like there’s no one else who could make him feel this way, I can’t deny the swell of pride that expands in my chest. I’ve done this to him. Brought him to the edge of madness with my touch.
He strokes my cheek, the calloused pads of his fingers a sharp contrast to my own soft skin. “I need to come inside you. I want to feel you come on my dick.”
He doesn’t have to ask twice. I lower myself without hesitation, moaning as Austin is fully seated, filling me completely. We move in unison, our sweat-slick bodies coming together as we push one another higher and higher, soaring toward release. When I feel his body tense under mine, his hips bucking off the couch as though he’s lost all sense of control, I fly over the edge with him, my own orgasm spiraling through me with such intensity I cry out his name before his lips clamp over mine.
The kiss is deep and sweaty and utterly perfect.
When we finally break apart, I climb to my feet on shaky legs. I gather my clothes and get dressed as Austin does the same. When he’s finished, he grabs the remote and flops down on the couch, arm draped across the back. He’s sitting in my spot, but that’s not the problem.
“What are you doing?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. He looks way too comfortable on my couch.
He shrugs. “It’s early. I figured we could watch a movie if you’re up for it?”
I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. Aren’t hookups supposed to, I don’t know, leave afterward? This is new territory for us, but… It is early and Becca’s gone for the weekend. Besides, it’s not like he’s planning to sleep over. Probably I’m making a big deal out of nothing.
“Relax.” He pats the spot next to him on the couch. “It’s not like we’re going to watch The Notebook and talk about our feelings.” The color drains from his face and his eyes go wide. The guy’s faced down three-hundred-pound linemen, but it’s the first time I’ve seen real fear in his eyes. “Are we?”
I can’t help it. I burst out laughing, doubling over as the laughter shakes my body from the inside out. The look on his face is priceless. I’m half tempted to grab the DVD from Becca’s room just to see what he’ll do, but in the end, I take pity on him. After all, he did just wring the tension from my body with that gifted cock of his.
We agree on a Ryan Reynolds action flick neither of us has seen, but halfway through the movie Austin starts massaging my thigh. His fingers march north, kneading the muscles just below the hem of my tiny shorts. A ripple of desire pulses through me, and I forget all about the movie.
Hell, I forget my own name when his roving hand snakes under my shirt, the rough pads of his fingers gliding over my belly, tracing a path to the hardened nipples that strain against my tank top. Then his lips
