Page 46 of Perfect Pitch

—Eva Henn, Fashion Blogger

“What is Trevor doing for you?” I ask as I pull into the underground garage beneath my uncle’s building.

“The better question is, what doesn’t he do for me? He’s essentially taken over my marketing and brand.” Austyn makes a fist near her temple before popping her fingers out. “Mind blown. He’s remarkable at it.”

Brotherly pride wars with concern over the instability of the music industry. “Really?”

“Truly. He’s worth every dollar he asked for.”

“Wait.” I stop her before we step into the elevator. “He negotiated a salary?”

She names an amount and my lips part in shock. I recover before managing, “And you’re able to pay him?”

“Yes. I keep telling him to let me pay for the extra stuff he does, but he won’t let me.”

“Like what?” I hit the button for their floor.

“Like today, he’s running errands because he has a car, and I don’t. He’s picking up some new equipment, so I don’t pay for shipping.” She names the amount shipping would have cost and I blink again.

“Did you win the lottery or something? Is that how you’re able to finance this?”

“No.”

“You’re that good that you can afford to pay my brother twenty-five percent over what he was making at his old job and your own salary?”

She shrugs. “I’m worth the money I make.”

“And you’re obviously paid in gold bricks.” The elevator doors open, and we both step out.

After opening the apartment door, Austyn drops her keys on the table in the entryway and keeps walking. Once she hits the living room, she tosses over her shoulder, “Now you’re showing your age, Mitch.”

I step forward until I’m in her space. There’s no hiding the fact I’m aroused. I cock my head to the side. “Oh?”

Her breasts thrust out as her eyes roll skyward. I brace for what’s going to come out of her mouth. “If you were really on trend, you’d have accused me of being paid in NFTs, maybe Bitcoin.”

Damn her and damn that sassy mouth. I know I’m not leaving here without a taste of it. Not again.

I reach across the distance between us and clasp her hand. Tugging her toward me, her sneakers trip her up as she falls into my arms.

I lower my mouth so my lips cover hers.

The fire that’s arced between us since the first time our hands touched in this very room explodes when I fit my mouth to hers. I flick my tongue against her full lower lip before I take a small nip—not enough to hurt, but enough for her to part those sweet lips and let me inside. Once I gain access into the deep recess of her mouth, the flames of hell couldn’t stop me from stroking my tongue against hers.

And I think of nothing but pleasure—hers, mine. Ours.

My world dims to only the tiny bundle of woman I’ve wrapped up in my arms. I lift her to the kitchen counter. Her thighs spread, forming the perfect cradle for me to step into. I place my hands against them and press them farther apart as I slide between them, right up against her core.

Her heart.

Austyn’s fingers curl into my chest, nails biting. Even as I clench her ass to lift her more fully into my embrace, she straightens her torso to push closer.

I undulate back and forth to torture us both. I feel my cock grow, extend, prepare. Her head falls back, and I take advantage, ravaging her throat until I reach her ear. “I want to fuck you, Austyn. Are you going to let me? Let me taste all your slick sweetness waiting for me,” I rotate my hips forward until they brush up against her jean-covered V.

Her response is a moan.

Needing her full surrender, I kiss her again, wreaking havoc with her senses. Just then, my phone rings—one of only two numbers that can break through when it’s on silent.

It’s Beckett.

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