Page 65 of The Thorne at My Side
“Maggie,” Austin says and he slides his warm hand onto my thigh. I stare at the veins that create a complex topography along his knuckles and joints. The spot where our bodies connect warms like coals, not blazing and showy, but rather hot and intense.
My focus travels from his hand up his forearm, past his biceps and shoulders to his jawline and finally his eyes, the desire burning in them lights a fuse in me.
“Yes,” I whisper. I’m not asking. I’m giving permission.
Before I can register what is happening he pulls my leg over his lap and positions me across his thighs. Our mouths connect and open to each other. The taste of him is familiar and exhilarating. His hands travel up the inside of my sweatshirt and then back down to where he holds my hips. He feels steady and strong and I lean into him.
My hands sink into the hair at the back of his head and I hold on for dear life when Austin starts to roll my hips against him. The friction of his bulge through my leggings makes my toes curl inside my sneakers.
He pulls me against him and I throw my head back to inhale deeply. Austin’s lips find my neck and he presses kisses along the exposed skin.
“Fuck Maggie, you’re perfect,” he compliments as his fingers press into the flesh of my ass before he pulls my center onto his again.
I know time is running out. My hormones know it too because I am barreling towards an orgasm just from his hands on me. His mouth moves across myjaw and neck, peppering kisses along the way, charting a course on my skin.
“Austin,” I whine when he bites gently.
He lifts both hands and brackets my face in them and his smokey eyes are clouded with lust that he’s finding matched in mine.
The car slows and his eyes dart out the window for a split second but it is long enough to break the spell.
I cannot hook up with Austin when I’m meeting DCFox in a few days. This has to be our last moment. Responsibility prevails in the end.
When we come to a stop outside my building I don’t have any words to say. Austin doesn’t either. He lets me slide towards the door that is quickly opened for me.
I climb out with a hand from his driver who gives me a curt nod before saying, “Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Collins,” and I smile sadly at him. I can’t look back.
The closing car door reverberates against my ear drums causing my shoulders to jump but my steps don’t falter and I get inside my building. The lobby is too quiet and the silence hurts my ears. I want to hear Austin. To hear his breath, his groans, his satisfaction. I want to hear my gasped inhales when I’ve forgotten to breathe because his hands are on me. I want to hear my muffled moans as he captures them with his mouth.
My fingers shake as I try to get my key in the lock. My feet feel heavy, like I’ve just run a marathon. As I push open the door, my body is sluggish and exhausted and my heart just feels sad.
Ending things with Austin is the right thing to do. It was never supposed to include feelings. And it’s gotten all the more confusing to message with DCFox. Austin doesn’t want to be in a relationship. It’s foolish to think that’s a possibility. Plus he needs some sort of society darling on his arm, not a speech writer froma small town with political ambitions. It’ll hurt more if I give in to my heart and then experience the rejection from Austin down the road. This is for the best.
I’ve managed to step into my apartment and close the door before the tears spill over. I slide down the wall and curl up on the floor, hugging my knees to my chest as the first wave racks my body.
The list of things I wouldn’t give to have Austin here to comfort me is short. And therein lies the problem. My body chills because I'm craving affection from someone who can’t give it to me.
I sniffle up my tears and take a deep breath. On a shaky exhale I tell myself I’ll be okay. That on Tuesday I get to meet DCFox. The person who could very well be The One. And I’m confident our emotional connection will lead to physical feelings. Or, maybe I’ll be lucky and he’ll walk in and be sex in a suit.
Which makes me think of Austin.
Tears roll slowly again as I roll my head along the wall. I push air out with my cheeks and decide that I either need to curl up in my chair, lie down in bed, or take a shower. My eyes dart around my space as I think through the options. Chair, bed, shower. Chair? Bed? Shower? Chair? Bed?
Knock. Knock.
The air in my lungs vaporizes as I look up over my shoulder at the door.
“Maggie,” Austin’s muffled voice sounds pained.
I slowly stand and open the door to find Austin leaning against the doorframe. His head snaps up from where it was hanging between his shoulders. He lunges forward and captures my face in his hands. He steps into me and uses his thumbs to catch the tears thathave spilled over once again.
“Austin?” I whisper as the battle between my heart and my head erupts. My heart beats wildly in my chest as my mind reels to reign in the thoughts that are giving my heart hope.
It is so good between us, why stop a beautiful thing?
Maybe he’s here because he wants you, not just sex.
What if he's developing feelings too?
