crooked his finger against my sweet spot. He used his
thumb on my clitoris at the same time, the familiar double
whammy that had always worked for me.
"You like that?"
"Yes," I told him. "I like that."
He hooked his other hand into my silk panties and eased
them down one side at a time as he kept up the in-out
stroking. His eyes left my face to watch the motion of his
hand, and I was glad. I didn't want to watch him watching
me.
He stopped only for a few seconds, long enough to pul his
shirt over his head. I used the time to pul down the side
zip of my skirt, and he helped me off with that, too. My
shirt went next. We moved together, coordinated, until I
lay naked on his bed.
"Take off your pants."
I returned his hard stare. We'd never spoken much during
sex. Now we were practicaly reciting the Declaration of
Independence. I toyed with my nipples, teasing him as he
unbuttoned and unzipped. He wasn't wearing the loose
boxer shorts I'd expected, but tight boy shorts cut high on
his thigh.
"Nice underwear," I told him.
The old Austin smirk came back, and he stripped them off
quickly before getting back on his knees again. His cock
stirred, half-hard but rising, on his thigh. "Thanks."
"Did you put those on just for me?" I got up on my elbows
to look at him.
Austin just raised a brow. "What if I did?"
It wasn't the smart-ass answer I expected, and
consequently, I had no answer.
"Paige." His hand went stroke, stroke, stroke, and I was
hypnotized. "Open your legs."
I did, because I wanted him there. I thought he'd use his
hand, but Austin got on his bely on the bed, instead. He
wriggled up between my legs before I knew it, his breath
hot on my inner thighs and finaly, at last, my cunt.
I cried out when he kissed me there, but stifled it with my
fist. When he licked me, I drew in a breath that tasted of
my own skin. It had been a long time since a man had
gone down on me…since the last time I'd been with him,
as a matter of fact.
His lips worked my rigid clit as he pushed a finger, then
two, then three, inside me. Rough but not harsh. He found
my G-spot and I convulsed around his fingers. Pleasure
took my voice away.
I pushed my hips upward in lieu of command, and he
fucked me with his mouth and hands until I gasped and
trembled. Shaking, I looked down at him, nestled between
my legs. Passion had hazed my vision, but everything
became crystaline when he paused to look up at me.
"Don't come yet." Austin's voice had grown impossibly
deeper over the years. Now it went lower stil. His breath
drifted over my hot, wet flesh and the motion of his lips
tantalized me mercilessly.
He moved up my body and captured my wrists with his
hands as he pushed mine over my head. My fingers curled
around the wooden spindles as I stared him in the eyes. I
wasn't the same girl he hadn't taken to the prom, and I
wasn't the same girl he'd married. I was a different woman
now. But I held the headboard anyway, watching him as
he fumbled in his nightstand for the package of condoms
and slid one on.
When he moved back over me, one hand on his cock to
guide it inside me, I tensed. My eyes closed as he filed
me. When he moved, I moved with him. It was easy to
remember how.
He fucked into me slowly, then faster. He pushed up onto
his hands to drive his cock deeper, and I took the pain of
his thrusts and turned it into pleasure. My hands gripped
the wood. His eyes never left mine, not even when he slid
a hand between us to stroke my clit in time to his thrusts.
"Now," he grunted from between clenched teeth, "you can come."
I hadn't been waiting for his permission, but my body took
I hadn't been waiting for his permission, but my body took
it anyway.
"Say my name." His fingers left me and he pushed his face
into the side of my neck. "Say it, Paige."
I tipped into the swirling oblivion of orgasm, and I gave
him what he wanted with his name, if he could decipher it
from the moan. But I also let go of the headboard. My
nails raked his back as I came again, as hard the second
time as the first. Harder, maybe, because I was bringing
blood and he cried out as he pumped inside me as he
came, too.
Austin shuddered. His arms slid beneath me, clutching me
tight. He burrowed his face harder into my skin. And he
just held me that way for what seemed like a very long
time.
I had to unwrap my legs from around his waist after a few
minutes to ease the cramp in my hips, but I didn't unwind
my arms from around his back. His weight on me was
more comforting than claustrophobic. When he finaly
pushed himself off me, he only roled to the side with one
arm and leg thrown over my body.
Now he would sleep, I thought.
But he didn't. Austin moved to get rid of the rubber in a
nearby garbage can, then slipped right back to where he'd
been. His hand moved lazily up and down my body in
smooth, flat strokes.
"Paige."
"Yes," I said after a second.
"I thought you liked it when I was a little rough." His hand centered over my contented cunt, his fingers dipping into
my wel.
I wasn't squeamish about post-fucking cuddles or anything
leading up to a potential round two, but when Austin
stroked my pussy, I put a hand over his to stop the
motion. "Is that why you did it?"
He didn't look at me. His breath puffed hot on my
shoulder and he kissed me. His lips pressed my skin. His
fingertip settled on my clit and circled lightly. I'd had two
orgasms and my body wasn't ready for another, or so I
thought. As his hand moved, tension stirred inside me.
"Is it?" I drew in a breath but kept my voice even.
"Austin?"
"Wel, shit, Paige. Yeah. Of course." He sounded insulted.
I put my hand over his again, though what he was doing
was starting to work. "Look at me."
He did. I hadn't noticed the shadows under his eyes
before. Faintly blue, they made him look older. Wel, he
was. We both were.
"I thought you liked it rough, that's al."
"Did it look like I wasn't enjoying myself?" I didn't want to defend my orgasms to him. I didn't want to think he'd done
something for my sake that he hadn't wanted to do for his
own.
Pushing him off me, I got out of bed and gathered my
clothes. I dialed the cab company and arranged for a ride
home. Austin watched me without puling up the sheets or
making a move toward his own clothes. When I looked at
him, his expression had gone inscrutable. That was as
familiar as everything else had been, and I figured
whatever glitch in his operating system had made him ask
me those questions had been fixed.
"Why did you come over here?" he asked, loud in the
quiet. "Realy?"
I stepped into my panties and puled them up, then zipped
my skirt, too. "I came over here to do just what we just
did."
"Just to fuck me?"
"Yes, Austin," I told him. "What else did you think I wanted?"
"Nothing." He roled to grab the remote from the
nightstand and I discreetly ogled his ass and the sweet
backs of his thighs—places I'd bite, if I had more time.
"Forget I asked."
"Are you getting pissy with me?" I straightened my shirt
and ran my fingers through my hair to shake it into some
semblance of order. "No, you are not. Are you?
Seriously?"
"No." Austin, his jaw set, kept his gaze on the television.
"No." Austin, his jaw set, kept his gaze on the television.
He punched the buttons of the remote so fast I knew he
couldn't possibly be able to see more than a second or
two of each program before moving on.
"Because I'l tel you what, if you're going to give me an
attitude every time I come over here to fuck you, I'm not
going to bother anymore." I stepped into my shoes. "That
cake is baked."
Now he looked at me. "Huh?"
"That cake," I said carefuly, "is baked. Done. Over.
Finished."
"Iced?" One corner of his lips turned up, but only a little.
He was maybe the only person who'd ever realy "gotten"
me. It was why we fought so hard and fucked so good.
He knew every button to push.
"Yeah. Iced."
He shrugged, looking back at the television, but his mouth
stil quirked. "If you say so."
"Austin." I waited until he looked at me. "Don't make me
"Austin." I waited until he looked at me. "Don't make me regret this, okay? You know what this is."
He shrugged again, the brief glint of a smile fading. His
finger stabbed the remote as he cycled through al bazilion
cable stations. I thought about kissing him before I left. I
even took a few steps toward the bed, but when he turned
to look right at me, I stopped.
"I'l let myself out. No, no, don't bother getting out of bed,"
I said, though he hadn't done so much as shift. "I'l do it."
I was already out the door and into the hal and at the head
of the stairs when he caled after me.
"That's not al it is!"
I stopped, my hand on the newel post of his stairs. There
were half a dozen retorts, but none of them made it past
my tongue. At the bottom, the smooth banister shoved a
splinter into my palm and I muttered a curse as I plucked it
free. That would teach me, I thought as I let myself out of
his house and onto the street, where the cab was already
waiting.
Chapter 05
Daylight teased the sky by the time I made it home. I paid
the cabdriver and ignored the way he ogled my thighs
when I stepped onto the curb. I didn't want to be sorry I'd
gone to bed with Austin even though I'd said I wouldn't.
The sex had been too good, as good as it can be only with
someone who already knows you, but I'd started a new
life, with a new job and a new apartment, in a new city. I
wanted new habits, too, and Austin was definitely not one
of those.
I wanted a man who'd gone to colege. Who had a career,
not a job. One who owned a car and paid bils on time
and wore clothes that matched. A professional man, not
one who smoked and drank and cheated, or one who'd
run up the credit card and skipped out into the night
without leaving a note. Not one who wrecked my car
because he didn't have one of his own.
I wanted a man, not a boy in a man-suit.
You're unfair to me, Austin had accused me more than
once. I'm not like those guys.
Those guys. The men my mother dated. No, he wasn't like
those guys. At least not mostly. But I'd always been
waiting for him to turn into one. Maybe he was right and
I'd been unfair, but he'd done his share of shitty things even
when he knew they'd hurt me. Hel. I'd done the same.
My heels sounded very loud on the marble tile as I passed
the front desk, empty at this hour. I'd occupied the
elevator alone, dressed to kil, more times than I could
count on both hands. Tonight, because I knew I looked
ridden hard and put away wet, a hand shoved its way
through the doors just before they closed, and I had to
share it.
"Thanks," said that man I'd seen before. "I'm too tired for the stairs."
He slouched, eyes half lidded, in the corner opposite and
just behind mine. His shoulders lifted with a sigh that
became a yawn, prompting one from me I hid behind my
hand. He looked at me with a half smile. Conscious of the
fact I was sure my lipstick was smeared and my eyeliner
smudged, I smiled back. We both turned to face the front,
but I felt the weight of his gaze on me, could see him
looking from the corner of my eye. Unlike before, this time
looking from the corner of my eye. Unlike before, this time
he wasn't too distracted to notice me. When I turned my
"Switch" отзывы
Отзывы читателей о книге "Switch". Читайте комментарии и мнения людей о произведении.
Понравилась книга? Поделитесь впечатлениями - оставьте Ваш отзыв и расскажите о книге "Switch" друзьям в соцсетях.