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  into the side of my neck. "Say it, Paige."

  I tipped into the swirling oblivion of orgasm, and I gave

  him what he wanted with his name, if he could decipher it

  from the moan. But I also let go of the headboard. My

  nails raked his back as I came again, as hard the second

  time as the first. Harder, maybe, because I was bringing

  blood and he cried out as he pumped inside me as he

  came, too.

  Austin shuddered. His arms slid beneath me, clutching me

  tight. He burrowed his face harder into my skin. And he

  just held me that way for what seemed like a very long

  time.

  I had to unwrap my legs from around his waist after a few

  minutes to ease the cramp in my hips, but I didn't unwind

  my arms from around his back. His weight on me was

  more comforting than claustrophobic. When he finaly

  pushed himself off me, he only roled to the side with one

  arm and leg thrown over my body.

  Now he would sleep, I thought.

  But he didn't. Austin moved to get rid of the rubber in a

  nearby garbage can, then slipped right back to where he'd

  been. His hand moved lazily up and down my body in

  smooth, flat strokes.

  "Paige."

  "Yes," I said after a second.

  "I thought you liked it when I was a little rough." His hand centered over my contented cunt, his fingers dipping into

  my wel.

  I wasn't squeamish about post-fucking cuddles or anything

  leading up to a potential round two, but when Austin

  stroked my pussy, I put a hand over his to stop the

  motion. "Is that why you did it?"

  He didn't look at me. His breath puffed hot on my

  shoulder and he kissed me. His lips pressed my skin. His

  fingertip settled on my clit and circled lightly. I'd had two

  orgasms and my body wasn't ready for another, or so I

  thought. As his hand moved, tension stirred inside me.

  "Is it?" I drew in a breath but kept my voice even.

  "Austin?"

  "Wel, shit, Paige. Yeah. Of course." He sounded insulted.

  I put my hand over his again, though what he was doing

  was starting to work. "Look at me."

  He did. I hadn't noticed the shadows under his eyes

  before. Faintly blue, they made him look older. Wel, he

  was. We both were.

  "I thought you liked it rough, that's al."

  "Did it look like I wasn't enjoying myself?" I didn't want to defend my orgasms to him. I didn't want to think he'd done

  something for my sake that he hadn't wanted to do for his

  own.

  Pushing him off me, I got out of bed and gathered my

  clothes. I dialed the cab company and arranged for a ride

  home. Austin watched me without puling up the sheets or

  making a move toward his own clothes. When I looked at

  him, his expression had gone inscrutable. That was as

  familiar as everything else had been, and I figured

  whatever glitch in his operating system had made him ask

  me those questions had been fixed.

  "Why did you come over here?" he asked, loud in the

  quiet. "Realy?"

  I stepped into my panties and puled them up, then zipped

  my skirt, too. "I came over here to do just what we just

  did."

  "Just to fuck me?"

  "Yes, Austin," I told him. "What else did you think I wanted?"

  "Nothing." He roled to grab the remote from the

  nightstand and I discreetly ogled his ass and the sweet

  backs of his thighs—places I'd bite, if I had more time.

  "Forget I asked."

  "Are you getting pissy with me?" I straightened my shirt

  and ran my fingers through my hair to shake it into some

  semblance of order. "No, you are not. Are you?

  Seriously?"

  "No." Austin, his jaw set, kept his gaze on the television.

  "No." Austin, his jaw set, kept his gaze on the television.

  He punched the buttons of the remote so fast I knew he

  couldn't possibly be able to see more than a second or

  two of each program before moving on.

  "Because I'l tel you what, if you're going to give me an

  attitude every time I come over here to fuck you, I'm not

  going to bother anymore." I stepped into my shoes. "That

  cake is baked."

  Now he looked at me. "Huh?"

  "That cake," I said carefuly, "is baked. Done. Over.

  Finished."

  "Iced?" One corner of his lips turned up, but only a little.

  He was maybe the only person who'd ever realy "gotten"

  me. It was why we fought so hard and fucked so good.

  He knew every button to push.

  "Yeah. Iced."

  He shrugged, looking back at the television, but his mouth

  stil quirked. "If you say so."

  "Austin." I waited until he looked at me. "Don't make me

  "Austin." I waited until he looked at me. "Don't make me regret this, okay? You know what this is."

  He shrugged again, the brief glint of a smile fading. His

  finger stabbed the remote as he cycled through al bazilion

  cable stations. I thought about kissing him before I left. I

  even took a few steps toward the bed, but when he turned

  to look right at me, I stopped.

  "I'l let myself out. No, no, don't bother getting out of bed,"

  I said, though he hadn't done so much as shift. "I'l do it."

  I was already out the door and into the hal and at the head

  of the stairs when he caled after me.

  "That's not al it is!"

  I stopped, my hand on the newel post of his stairs. There

  were half a dozen retorts, but none of them made it past

  my tongue. At the bottom, the smooth banister shoved a

  splinter into my palm and I muttered a curse as I plucked it

  free. That would teach me, I thought as I let myself out of

  his house and onto the street, where the cab was already

  waiting.

  Chapter 05

  Daylight teased the sky by the time I made it home. I paid

  the cabdriver and ignored the way he ogled my thighs

  when I stepped onto the curb. I didn't want to be sorry I'd

  gone to bed with Austin even though I'd said I wouldn't.

  The sex had been too good, as good as it can be only with

  someone who already knows you, but I'd started a new

  life, with a new job and a new apartment, in a new city. I

  wanted new habits, too, and Austin was definitely not one

  of those.

  I wanted a man who'd gone to colege. Who had a career,

  not a job. One who owned a car and paid bils on time

  and wore clothes that matched. A professional man, not

  one who smoked and drank and cheated, or one who'd

  run up the credit card and skipped out into the night

  without leaving a note. Not one who wrecked my car

  because he didn't have one of his own.

  I wanted a man, not a boy in a man-suit.

  You're unfair to me, Austin had accused me more than

  once. I'm not like those guys.

  Those guys. The men my mother dated. No, he wasn't like

  those guys. At least not mostly. But I'd always been

  waiting for him to turn into one. Maybe he was right and

  I'd been unfair, but he'd done his share of shitty things even

  when he knew they'd hurt me. Hel. I'd done
the same.

  My heels sounded very loud on the marble tile as I passed

  the front desk, empty at this hour. I'd occupied the

  elevator alone, dressed to kil, more times than I could

  count on both hands. Tonight, because I knew I looked

  ridden hard and put away wet, a hand shoved its way

  through the doors just before they closed, and I had to

  share it.

  "Thanks," said that man I'd seen before. "I'm too tired for the stairs."

  He slouched, eyes half lidded, in the corner opposite and

  just behind mine. His shoulders lifted with a sigh that

  became a yawn, prompting one from me I hid behind my

  hand. He looked at me with a half smile. Conscious of the

  fact I was sure my lipstick was smeared and my eyeliner

  smudged, I smiled back. We both turned to face the front,

  but I felt the weight of his gaze on me, could see him

  looking from the corner of my eye. Unlike before, this time

  looking from the corner of my eye. Unlike before, this time

  he wasn't too distracted to notice me. When I turned my

  face, just slightly, he was studiously watching the blinking

  white numbers showing the elevator's progress.

  I had to bite my lower lip against a smile. He was seriously

  eye-fucking me. Who doesn't get off on being noticed?

  It took a very long time, it seemed, to reach the first floor.

  He moved past me without touching me, but my skin

  prickled as though he had. He stepped out of the elevator

  and I let out the breath I'd been holding. I'd seen him twice

  now. Three times? It must have been the charm, because

  unlike al the others, this time he was the one who looked

  back.

  "I missed you."

  I'm already diving into Austin's arms when he says it. A

  week was too long to be away from him. His parents had

  taken him from me, stolen him to go to visit family for a

  funeral. At nineteen, he's plenty old enough to stay by

  himself, but they'd insisted he go along to pay his respects.

  I think it's more like they don't want us fucking our way

  through every room in the house while they're away, but I

  can't blame them. They'd have been right. I wouldn't have

  can't blame them. They'd have been right. I wouldn't have

  felt comfortable going along, even if they had invited me,

  but a week is an eternity in the summer when the only thing

  I have to look forward to is long hours with Austin's mouth

  on mine.

  His arms slip around me, hold me tight, and his hands run

  down my back to grip my ass. Nobody's watching, and

  would I care if they were? I'm just so frigging glad he's

  home, it's worth the risk of parental discovery to have him

  squeezing me. His cock nudges my bely.

  He really did miss me.

  "I brought you something."

  "What?" I already have my hands out, expecting a snow

  globe, a T-shirt. A magnet, maybe. Something he picked

  up in the Pennsylvania Turnpike gift shop.

  Austin hands me a smal box with a lid. Inside it is a

  package of paper, not note cards but stationery. I lift a

  page and hold it to the light. It's soft on my fingertips and

  has a faint design of flowers pressed into the paper. I give

  him a look.

  How did he know?

  How did he know?

  "It reminded me of you." Austin gives an awkward shrug,

  as if his admission embarrasses him. "You like that sort of

  thing."

  I do. Tablets and note cards and pretty papers. I always

  have, but this is the first time someone's ever noticed or

  given me something as pretty as this. "I love it."

  "When's your mom getting home?"

  My mom's been working weird shifts at the Hershey plant

  since she got pregnant. Because it's summer, her brother

  Lane is home from colege and taking over the shop, and

  I've been putting in more than my share of hours there,

  too. I haven't seen her much. I'm not sure if she's avoiding

  me, but I know I'm trying not to hang around her too

  much. She's only got another month or so before she

  pops, and I can't even begin to imagine what's going to

  happen then.

  "Late." I snuggle closer, my knee going between his and

  my cheek fitting just right into the place over his heart.

  Austin pushes me so he can grin down into my face.

  Austin pushes me so he can grin down into my face.

  "Good."

  The apartment isn't big enough to make the chase much of

  an effort, but we manage to work up a sweat as I dodge

  his grip and duck behind the big wooden rocking chair to

  keep out of his grasping hands. Not that I don't want to be

  caught. Just that it's fun to make him catch me.

  When he does, his mouth slants over mine, his tongue

  probing deep inside. He's got me so hot already. Hot for

  him. His hand goes straight between my legs, no fooling

  around now, and he cups my pussy through my thin cotton

  shorts.

  The rocking chair, set in motion by our mock struggle,

  bumps my ass as we kiss. I grab the back of it to stil it,

  then push Austin from my mouth and shuck out of my

  shorts. I'm wearing the tiny bikini panties he likes, but

  those go, too.

  I lift my T-shirt up over my breasts, no bra covering them,

  and settle into the chair. I spread my legs. He's watching,

  jaw slack and eyes gleaming. He doesn't move.

  He's eaten me out before, though I've never asked him to.

  It's always just…happened. But it's al I've been thinking

  It's always just…happened. But it's al I've been thinking

  about for the past week, his mouth and tongue and fingers

  fucking me until I come. Every night while he was gone I'd

  lie in bed, eyes wide open to the dark, and imagine him

  there with me. I'd pretend my fingers were his tongue,

  flicking my clit or sliding inside me, but it was never the

  same.

  My friend Kira says her boyfriend won't go down on her.

  Not ever. He's al about the blow jobs but refuses to dine

  at the Y. He's a pussy about eating pussy. I'd break up

  with a guy who expected me to suck cock but wouldn't

  return the favor, but Kira says she's in love. I think she just

  doesn't know what love is.

  Austin's friends, the guys from the footbal team and the

  men he works with at his dad's construction company,

  would probably say they don't go down on their

  girlfriends, either. I wonder how many are teling the truth?

  I wonder if Austin tels them about me, if men talk about

  their sex lives in the same detail I do with my friends. I

  wonder if he'd admit he makes me come with his face

  between my legs, or if he'd deny it.

  "Austin." My voice is low and slow, almost not mine. His

  gaze jerks up. I put my hands on my inner thighs and open

  gaze jerks up. I put my hands on my inner thighs and open

  myself wider to his sight. "Use your mouth on me."

  He's already on his knees before I finish. I gasp when his

  hot, wet mouth finds my skin. When his tongue strokes

  over my clit, I grip the arms of the chair
and toss back my

  head, my back arching. It feels so good it almost hurts.

  The chair rocks me into his mouth again and again as he

  licks and kisses and sucks. When he puts a finger inside

  me, then two, I come hard with a strangled shout.

  I look down at him. He's smiling, ful of himself. I touch his

  hair and want to tel him how much I love him, but

  something about the way he's looking at me makes me

  suddenly shy. I want to close my legs, but his head is

  resting on my thigh and I can't without pushing him away.

  "What?" I sound nervous, because I am. "What are you

  looking at?"

  "You." Austin kisses my thigh.

  I push him onto his back on the floor and straddle his legs

  until I can get his belt open and his pants down. His cock

  springs free, nice and thick. I take it in my hand and

  stroke. He's already got a little pre-come dripping, and I

  stroke. He's already got a little pre-come dripping, and I

  lean forward to taste him.

  "Fuck!" His hips jerk and his hand tangles in my hair.

  "Paige, God."

  "What?" I want to put him inside me, but we don't

  have any condoms handy and there's no way I'll go

  bareback.

  "Nobody…"

  I frown and sit back on my heels, my grip tightening on his

  prick. "Nobody what?"

  What the hel did he get up to while he was away?

  "Nobody does this like you," Austin says.

  He thinks he's giving me a compliment, but I let him go and

  grab up my shorts. I make sure to grab my panties, too.

  Don't want to leave them on the floor for my mom to find.

  "Nobody, who?"

  "Huh?" He lifts his head to stare, then sits when he sees my expression. "What's the matter?"

  I stab the air with my finger. My throat is tight when I

  swalow, and I blink away the burn of tears. "Nobody

  does what like me? Suck cock? Nobody, who? Who else

  is sucking your dick, Austin?"

  "Nobody," he says and must realize how it sounds,

  because he scrambles to his feet to come after me when I

  stalk down the hal to my tiny bedroom at the back of the

  apartment. "That's not what I meant, baby."

  "Don't you ‘baby' me." I grab my robe from the hook on

  the door so I don't have to try to get into my clothes while

  we fight.

  His hands come down on my shoulders and turn me,

  reluctantly, to face him. "I just meant that the other guys,

  they tel me their girls don't do the stuff you do."

  I guess that answers my question about if they talk about