Page 65 of Forever & Always You
Austin disappears into the shower while I do my makeup. I’m not very good at it, mostly because I rarely wear much more than mascara these days, and I nearly have a mental breakdown trying to apply some false eyelashes, because God, why won’t those inner corners stay down? I apply red lipstick. Spray some perfume. Slip into my dress. As I’m putting in my earrings, I realize we should really be downstairs by now, enjoying complimentary champagne before the ceremony starts.
“Austin?” I call out, knocking on the bathroom door. “We should really get going.”
Austin immediately steps out of the bathroom while securing the cuff links of his shirt, and I widen my eyes at him in awe because I have never in my life seen not only Austin Pierce, butanyman, look this sexy. I realize right then that my new kink is tuxedos. And bow ties. Definitely bow ties.
“Well, hello, handsome,” I purr, smoldering my eyes at him as his cologne fills the room.
Austin doesn’t laugh. He stands still, his eyes traveling from my exposed collarbones down to the strappy heels on my feet. “Gabrielle, you look .?.?. Damn, you look stunning.”
I glance down. The red satin shines under the light, the dress’s long, conservative length offering a teasing slit in the leg. It has dainty little spaghetti straps and a cowl neckline that makes it extremely delicate and feminine. “You really think so?”
Austin gulps and checks his watch, the silver one that’s never off his wrist. “If we didn’t have to be downstairs right about now, I’d have that makeup smudged in a thousand different ways. I’m not going to be able to take my eyes off you all night, Gabby.” He steps forward, eyes still scanning me, his lip caught between his teeth. His fingers brush over the satin fabric above my hipbone and our eyes lock, an intensity building in the small space between us. “How lucky am I?”
I shuffle up closer, pressing my chest to his. Hooking my hand around the soft, freshly trimmed nape of his neck, I guide his mouth toward mine, but hesitate before I kiss him. Our gazes locked, I smile seductively and dare to whisper, “Can’t you just fuck me gently?”
Austin crashes his lips explosively to mine. We should be downstairs, I know, but we can’t keep our hands off one another. He backs me up hard against the wall and I swing my leg around his waist, hungrily undoing the button of his pants. He traces a hand up my leg, my skin soft and moisturized, and hikes up the fabric of my dress. Turning me around, he presses me onto the bed. I lean on my arms, refusing to bury my face into the sheets. I didn’t have a breakdown applying these eyelashes for nothing.
Austin positions himself behind me, moves my panties to one side, and enters me fully in one solid thrust. Now my eyes do roll back in my head, because it’s pure heaven. Quickies are so hot. Nothing but desire and passion and an insatiable hunger. Austin’s strokes are fast but careful, and with each thrustforward, a gasped breath leaves my lips.
“Shit, I’m going to come already,” Austin groans. “You look so good and you feel even better.”
“Don’t come on my dress,” I warn.
“Then open that pretty mouth.”
Austin pulls out and I follow his very clear instruction. Pushing myself up from the bed, I turn around and drop to my knees on the floor in front of him. One hand of his is back on my jaw, the other finishes himself off. I tilt my head back and lock my eyes on his, but he can barely look at me without a moan rising in his throat.
“You and that red lipstick .?.?.” he mutters, and I part those stained red lips of mine, stick out my tongue, and swallow every last drop as he comes. “You’re my favorite girl in the world, Gabby.”
“I’d like to think so,” I say, placing my hands in his as he pulls me to my feet. Just as I wipe away a smudge of red lipstick from his lips, his phone rings from across the room.
Austin dashes over to grab it while buttoning up his pants and tucking his shirt back in, and when I check out my reflection in the mirror, I don’t looktoodisheveled at all.
“We’re on our way down right now,” Austin says into his phone, then hangs up and hastily shoves it into his pocket. He reaches for my hand and tugs me toward the door. “Quick, everyone is seated.”
“Seated?” I repeat, feeling the color drain from my face. Great. How do I walk into an entire ballroom late without blushing because I was upstairs in the hotel room getting frisky? I grab my clutch as we leave and we hurry down the hallway to the elevator. “Who was that, anyway? One of your associates?”
“No, my mom.”
“Your parents are here?” I hiss, because can’t a girl get a heads-up when she’s about to spend the evening with herboyfriend’s parents who hate her?
“Of course they’re here,” Austin says, repeatedly smashing the button for the hotel lobby as though that’ll get us there quicker. “I thought you’d know that? Don’t worry. They’re under strict orders to be nice.”
I don’t respond. Between the race to get to the ballroom and this new knowledge of Austin’s parents being here, I am now a complete and utter nervous wreck. I quickly touch up my lipstick before we spring out of the elevator. Austin’s hand finds mine and he hurries me along in my heels through the lobby. The ballroom doors are closed, and when Austin pushes them open, an entire sea of faces swivels toward us.
Fire.That’s what my cheeks feel like right now. A raging, scorching fire.
The crowd is silent as a woman gives a welcome speech up front next to giant digital screens, and I keep my head down low as Austin weaves the way through the circular tables toward ours. Above the floral table centerpiece, there’s a sign that says “Pierce Wealth Management.”We slot into the two empty chairs and when I build the courage to glance up, the very first person I catch eyes with is Austin’s mother.
Her mouth is a bold line and she is so very clearly unimpressed. Walking into this ballroom late with her son is doing me no favors when it comes to winning her over, because I’m certain it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what we could possibly have been up to. This is confirmed when my gaze shifts to Helen and she flashes me a knowing smile.
Lord, save me.
Austin’s hand finds mine beneath the table and he offers it a reassuring squeeze as we focus ahead at the woman hosting the event. I swear I don’t hear a single word she says because my ears are ringing so loud. Numbly, I join in the applause when the rest of the ballroom claps, and then the musings of hundreds ofvoices rises through the room. There will be a meal first before the awards presentation, which means for the next hour or two I am required to make small talk with Austin’s parents and his associates.
“You missed the canapés and champagne,” Caroline, Austin’s mother, says in disapproval. “Where were you two?”
“Time got away from us,” Austin says casually, and he reaches for the bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice in the center of the table. He fills my glass, his own, then tops off the rest of the table’s glasses. “Let’s toast,” he says, holding up his flute of champagne. “Thank you all for being here tonight. Mom, Dad, thanks for always pushing me to be the best I can be. Helen, thanks for keeping my diary in check. Alison, Craig, Tyler, thanks for trusting in my vision strongly enough to come on board and be a part of it. Gabrielle,” he says, eyes fastening on me with a smile so pure it makes everyone else in this ballroom disappear, “thank you for reminding me that life doesn’t have to be so serious all of the time. It can also be about Marvel movie marathons, picking out toys for the shelter dogs, and making pancakes on Sundays.”
