Page 27 of Broken Headboards
“I don’t mind being behind you,” he grins, the way he just said it making my heart do a tiny somersault. “Soon enough, I’ll be on top, and that’s when the fun starts.”
“You don’t do well unless you’re on top, huh?”
“I like being on top, that’s true,” he continues, and that without having to pause and think of an answer. “But every now and then, I like mixing things up. I’m behind you now, sure, and that makes things a bit...hard. But it also makes it all more interesting, don’t you think?”
Crap, why is my brain acting all drunk out of a sudden? My thoughts swirl around the ideas he planted inside my head, and I feel a growing heat take over my chest and neck.
“Well, Austin,” I start, trying to buy some time as I bring the wine glass up to my lips. “I have to agree with you. I like tackling hard things—too bad that your performance today was a bit...soft.”
“I was just getting into the mood.” Lowering his voice, he locks his eyes on mine. I feel hot blood rush to my cheeks then, the heat spreading from my neck to my face. “But I am in the mood now.”
“What changed?”
“You,” he breathes out. “Now I know just how far you’re willing to go, Tess. And I like that, to be honest. I love a woman without any limits. Keeps me on the edge of my seat.”
“And that’s where you’ll remain...right on the edge of your seat, watching as I sign my name on the Clarendon Tower contract.”
“We’ll see about that,” is all he says, and then the conversation drifts off into more trivial things. He tells me about his early years at Oakmont, when he accompanied his father to meetings as he learned the ropes, and I find myself telling him all about those lazy Sundays I used to spend on my dad’s carpentry, watching as he transformed wood slabs into beautiful handcrafted furniture.
By the time we finish dinner, I can’t help but be honest.
“You know, I actually enjoyed tonight.” I take his arm as we walk out of Per Se, making our way out of the Time Warner Center. “Seems like you actually know how to hold a conversation.”
“Ouch,” he laughs. “Are backhanded compliments the only ones you know?”
“Are compliments on your personality that rare for you?” I ask with a smile as I give him another backhanded compliment.
“You like being a ball-buster, Tess?” he asks me with a grin.
“Maybe,” I tease him, enjoying the closeness of his body. It’s kind of an absurd thing to say, but the way my tiny hand fits in the nook of his elbow makes me feel safe.
“Well, this is it,” he announces, waving at the two executive cars parked right in front of the building. Their engines are purring softly, and both drivers are more than ready to jump out of their cars and get the doors. “Time to be enemies again.”
“The best kind of enemies,” I find myself saying, turning on my heels to face him. Our eyes meet and, for a split second, his presence pushes back the night. Our surroundings seem to melt away, leaving nothing in existence but both our bodies.
“Come here,” he says out of the blue, lacing my waist with one arm as he closes the distance between us. He pulls me against his body, his free hand rising to my cheek, and a shiver runs up my body as I feel the soft touch of his fingers.
Before I know it, my eyes are closed.
The moment our lips touch, I feel thunder go down my spine, every single nerve ending on my body coming alive. He smells like leather and pine, and tastes just like heaven. And the way his lips fit mine...it’s almost as if they’re the last missing piece of a puzzle.
I’m in heaven.
I’m drowning in pure bliss.
And then…he pulls away.
Just like that.
Leaving me panting.
By the time we fully break apart, my whole body is on fire.
“Goodnight, Tess.” With a quick nod, he gives me one last smile and steps inside his car, leaving me in the night with my heart hammering at a thousand miles per hour.
What the hell just happened?
