Page 43 of A Man To Remember
Maybe never.
Because right now, in this moment, I don't remember ever being with anyone other than Austin. It's like he's the only person I've ever been with, ever known, even though that's obviously not the case. But there's something to it, I'm sure.
Maybe we've been together in a past life.
Maybe we've always been together in some alternative timeline.
Maybe we were always meant to be.
We stand facing each other, and Austin takes a step forward, but I take a step back, fleeting from him.
He stuffs his hands into his pockets, and I have to physically stop myself from laughing at how adorable he looks.
"Sooo," he says, glancing around as if assessing the space. "You wanted to show me around?"
"Oh, I intend to show you things."
He looks at me now, eyebrow raised. Damn, he's cute.
I motion with my head toward my bed. "Make yourself at home."
Tentatively, he steps back and sits on the edge of my queen bed, right where I want him. And his eyes are on me the whole time. Just where I want them.
Then, it's showtime.
Positioned perfectly—strategically—in the middle of the room, I kick off my shoes while simultaneously pulling off both my hoodie and t-shirt, taking them off together and dropping them carelessly on the floor.
The moment my eyes land on Austin again, understanding dawns on his face. His brows fall into place, lids becoming heavy, falling to half-mast.
For a moment I wish I could have kept up the charade just a few seconds longer, but…who am I kidding? I'm entirely too horny for that.
With my eyes locked on his, I undo my jeans before pulling them down and off my body, along with my underwear and socks, because if there was ever a time for excessive efficiency, it's now.
Once I'm fully naked, I pause, taking in the moment. Austin's eyes sweep down my body, then up, then down again. Fully exposed, I wait for embarrassment to kick in. That familiar self-consciousness that would make me want to cover up, run, hide.
But this time, it doesn't come, and even Austin's hungry gaze doesn't derail me, my body and brain cooperating in perfect symphony for what feels like the first time in my life.
The realization hits stronger than any drug ever could.
Isn't that something?
I stand up straight, pulling my shoulders back. I flatten one palm on my sternum, then slowly slide it down my torso, all the way to my navel. Then, without preamble, I wrap my fingers around my cock and give myself a long, leisurely stroke.
Austin moans like he's the one being touched. He pushes his hands under his thighs, as if not trusting himself not to reach out, not to break the spell I have him under, even though the room is small enough that I'm within arm's reach.
"Damn," he mutters under his breath. I'm not sure if it's meant for my ears, but my cock twitches in my palm.
I stroke myself slowly, head falling back, exposing more of my throat while my eyes study Austin's face, drinking in his reactions—all those subtle twitches of his facial muscles, the way his tongue flicks out every now and then, keeping his lips slick and shiny and so fucking kissable.
He tilts his head to the side, his eyes fixed on where my hand is working my cock. "You're so fucking perfect it hurts. I wish I could photograph you right now."
"Not all moments are meant to be captured," I say, a soft moan sneaking in between the words as I twist my palm aroundthe head of my cock, smearing pre-cum around. "Some are meant to be lived."
Austin lets out a shaky exhale, and his gaze lifts from my cock and lazily travels up until our eyes meet. "Do you have any idea how bad I want you right now?"
"Yeah? And what are you going to do about it?"
He's on his feet before my brain registers what's happening, closing the distance in a single swoop. His body presses flush against mine, like he's chasing every possible point of contact. My dick's still in my hand, trapped between our bodies when our mouths collide and I find myself walking backward, trusting Austin to lead me safely to wherever he wants to take me until my back hits the wall behind me.
