Page 34 of Forever & Always You
“It’s okay, Gabby. You can handle it,” he says, then stretches one hand around me to reach for my clit. “Both?”
I nod into the pillow, my entire body twitching with an overload of pleasure as he maintains a steady speed with both his cock and his hand. It’s exactly what I need to come, and I fight through the sensitivity and the overwhelming urge to push his hand away, until suddenly the stars are aligning.
“Almost,” I mumble, closing my eyes in concentration.
If he moves his hand a single millimeter out of place in this exact moment, I will fucking murder him. My body is hurling forward up this mountain at full speed, climbing, climbing, climbing .?.?. I nearly scream. Release bursts through my core and my entire body almost crumbles into pieces. My hips collapse in defeat, but Austin grabs hold again and pulls me back into position.
“You’re so cute when you come, Gabby,” he says, pounding harder. “Now I’m right there with you.”
I’m utterly breathless, my heart throbbing so hard I feel it in my ears. Austin gradually slows and his groans are heavenlyas he rides out his own high, his cock pulsating inside of me. The sound of our heavy panting settles over the room and an orgasmic daze ensues.
Austin slides out of me and I roll over to face him, pushing my hair out of my eyes. There’s something incredibly spellbinding about the sight of a man who’s just fucked you; hair damp with sweat, cheeks flushed with color, eyes glazed over.
I’m about to become infatuated with Austin Pierce, and this isnotwhat I had planned when I set out to find him.
“Stay right there,” he says, holding out an arm to prevent me from sitting up. “You relax. I’ll grab you a towel.”
He disappears into the bathroom for a few minutes while I lie in bed, my head a buzz of thoughts and my pulses slowing to a rate that’snotat risk of throwing me into cardiac arrest, and then he returns with a towel over his shoulder and two glasses of water in hand. He’s wearing boxers again, sadly.
“Do you need anything else?” he asks, handing me both the towel and a glass, but I shake my head. He finds my discarded PJs on the floor and lays them next to me as he collapses back onto the bed by my side, staring up at the ceiling alongside me. “You feel incredible, Gabby. Better than I could have ever imagined.”
“I’m not sure I want your friendship anymore,” I say.
“I’m not sure I want your friendship either.”
I turn my head to look at him and he turns his to look at me. Our grins stretch until we both break out into laughter.
“There’s no way you’re going back to the guest room,” he says, flicking off the bedside light. He rolls onto his side facing me and plants a quick row of kisses along my bare shoulder. “Goodnight, Gabby.”
I brush my fingers through his hair and say through the darkness, “Goodnight, Austin.”
11
Austin isn’t there when I wake up.
He’s not in bed, in the shower, or making pancakes in the kitchen like I secretly hoped because I love nothing more than pancakes for breakfast on Sundays. I stick my head out into the backyard, but he’s not out there either, and when I check out front, his car is still on the drive. I even knock on his office door, but no reply ever comes.
I won’t deny that for a few seconds before I braved opening my eyes, there was an element of fear. What if I looked at Austin and immediately felt a shift in our dynamic? When I found that note we signed as kids in my jewelry box, my one and only goal was to find my best friend and earn his forgiveness, not find my way into his bed. Things are so easy with Austin, but what if they aren’t anymore?
It worries me that he’s not here. What if last night was a mistake and he’s halfway to Virginia by now just to escape me? It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. He’s left me his house and his car, and I think I could deal with that.
I raid through the kitchen cabinets for some flour, then grab some milk and eggs from the refrigerator. There’s no way I’m missing out on my pancakes just because Austin has decided togo AWOL. I turn on the TV for some background noise and get a hot pan going, but just as I’m about to hit my stride, my phone vibrates on the countertop.
My immediate thought is that it’s Austin trying to reach me, but as I grab my phone, I realize we don’t even have each other’s numbers, which is probably something that needs rectified. The text message displayed on my home screen is actually from my property manager.
The plumbing in my apartment is fixed.
And I should celebrate this information, but instead my stomach sinks.
Two days ago, I wanted nothing more than my property manager to get his ass in gear and send a plumber round to fix my ruined pipework, but now .?.?. I don’t want to go back to my apartment. To Marvel movies on my own, to resounding silence, to reality. I want to stay here and have Austin take care of me.
As I set my phone back down and pour my pancake mixture into the pan, I chew the inside of my cheek, deep in thought. Austin was kind enough to let me stay here until my apartment was fixed as a favor. He would never have asked in the first place if I didn’tneeda place to stay, so I know, morally, I should head home to Durham by tonight. But selfishly, I want to stay here even just foronemore day. Austin doesn’t need to know yet that my apartment has running water again.
I’m a pro at flipping pancakes, yet I still feel insanely smug as I plate up the perfectly fluffy stack. I search the cabinets again for maple syrup,and there is none.Who the hell doesn’t have maple syrup as a permanent staple in their cabinets? I resign myself to chocolate sauce and some strawberries as toppings, and just as I sit down on a bar stool at the center island and take my first bite, the front door swings open.
Austin steps inside the house, bedraggled and sweaty in gym shorts, and I release an “Ohhhh.”
He runs on Sunday mornings,duh.He literally told me that last night. Clearly, he was not hightailing it to Virginia, and I laugh at myself for being so worried for absolutely no reason.
