Page 175 of The Invite
“If putting a label lets me buy you things in peace, so be it.”
“I didn’t… That’s not… I…” He shushes me with a thumb against my stammering mouth.
“I get that money is important and can also be gone in the blink of an eye. But ultimately, I can’t take it with me to the grave. So, I’m going to enjoy it while I can. Fulfilling your needs, physical or otherwise, brings me a sense of satisfaction that I haven’t felt before.” His brows draw together as if it’s a puzzle to him too. “All I know is I want more of it. So, give up arguing ’cause you aren’t going to win. Now, try this on.”
His words wash over me and all my protests slip away. This—having someone take care of my needs—is a new experience for me too. I’ve only ever been with one guy, who I liked, but before it could blossom into a relationship, it ended tragically.
As for my parents, they were affectionate, but only on occasions. Most times, it felt like I had to earn their praise, and for the longest time, I did. I would see other families around me and wish for the same attention. Except, it came at a steep cost. The price of which I’m still paying.
Compartmentalizing these thoughts, I stare at Augustus after putting on the cropped jacket. His gaze roams down the length of my body, his tongue peeking out to lick the other side of his mouth. When they trail back up to my face, the lust has taken permanent residence on his sinful features.
“This one was made for you.”
I can’t look away from him even as I furiously blush. I’ve been doing it a lot today. Never in my wildest dreams did I think it’d be because of this brooding and mysterious psychopath.
“Keep it on,” he says, taking my elbow and walking to the front desk. Passing me my brand-new helmet, he orders, “Wait for me outside.”
I exit the store and walk to his bike. He doesn’t take long and returns after a few minutes, pocketing his wallet. The thin shirt he’s wearing outlines his abs while his biceps flex as he slides his jacket on. Distracted by his physique, I notice a little too late that he’s not carrying any bag with the first leather jacket I tried on.
Oh good! Maybe he changed his mind about buying two.
“Wipe that look off your face, Ness,” he says, well-versed in reading my mind. “Dan’s going to deliver it tomorrow at your house.”
“Never thought you’d be the type to give a girl so many nicknames.” It hasn’t escaped my notice how he’s stopped calling me Nessa the more we spend time together. Almost like he wants to erase any form of space between us.
If that’s his goal, he’s succeeding.
“Not a girl,you,” he quips. Invading my personal space, he draws the lapels of my jacket together and zips it up. Inching his hand to the hem, he skims it where my waistband meets it. My pulse kicks up when he swiftly unbuttons my jeans.
I grab his wrist, and whisper, “What are you doing?”
“Making you come.”
I nervously glance at the closed door of the shop over his shoulder, and half-heartedly protest, “Dan will see.”
“Let him.” His fingers delve inside my panties, which are embarrassingly soaked. Soft lips touch my forehead as he feels my arousal, and taunts, “My girlfriend needs to come, doesn’t she? So fucking wet.”
Rotating his thumb around my clit, he gently fills my pussy with a single digit up to the knuckle. My knees buckle when he caresses my inner muscles in a come-hither motion.Keeping the same slow rhythm, he thrusts repeatedly until I’m fully leaning on him.
“Do you love it when I finger you nice and slow, little prey?”
I moan my answer, clutching his big shoulders and riding his hand. I’m so slippery that wet noises pierce the empty silence on the street. My inhibitions are gone with every flick of his wrist.
“Come before I lose my mind and fuck you right here,” he roughly barks in my ear. The urgency in his tone causes the knot in my belly to unfurl and erupt into a powerful climax.
“August,” I cry out, squeezing his fingers inside.
He tucks my head against his chest as I convulse and jerk in his hold until the final wave passes. I slump against him. An aftershock goes through me when he pulls out his finger. Tilting my face, I watch him raise it to his mouth and suck.
My pussy clenches at the filthy action.
Letting it go with a pop, he smirks. “I can concentrate on riding now.” Buttoning my fly, he leans to the side to grab my helmet but doesn’t immediately slide it on. “Wanna go home?”
I should say yes, but I blurt out, “No.”
His gaze lights up, which I’m recognizing as satisfaction every time my answer pleases him. Sliding the helmet on my head and then his, he turns and straddles his bike. I curl my hand around his offered palm as I mount the passenger seat.
Thrill courses through my veins as I wrap my arms around his solid torso without any prompt. I’m smiling wide long before he roars the engine to life.
