Damaged Goods (22 page)

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Authors: Lauren Gallagher

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BOOK: Damaged Goods
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touched me—the response was the same. When Austin touched me, every nerve in

my body may as well have been hardwired straight to my G-spot.

When he paused to reach for the massage oil again, he lifted himself off me,

and it was all I could do not to scream for him to come back.
No, you’re so close;

please don’t go away.

But I bit my tongue. He had something in mind. He knew what he was doing.

He"d never disappointed me. Teased me to the brink of madness, yes, but never

disappointed.

I thought he"d pick up the bottle of massage oil again, but instead, he went for

one of several condoms sitting beside it.

He tore the wrapper. “Don"t worry, by the way,” he said. “That oil is condom-

safe.”

“I figured it would be,” I slurred.

The bottle clicked. Then once more. He set it down and was over me again.

I expected his warm, slick hands on my back, but it was his cock that I felt

first, pressing against my pussy but not going any farther. Then, and only then, his

hands resumed their gentle motions on my skin. Every muscle in my body relaxed,

but every nerve went on high alert, seeking the delicious sensations that were no

more than a well-timed thrust away.

The heels of his hands pressed into my shoulders, and his cock pressed just a

little harder against my pussy. I exhaled, whimpering softly.

“You like that?” he whispered, a note of amusement mixing with that low

growl of arousal. I nodded.

His hands tightened on my shoulders, and his hips moved, pushing just the

head of his cock into me, then withdrawing, then doing it again.

“Now you"re just teasing,” I said.

“I"m not teasing, I promise. I"m just not rushing.” And with that, he slowly slid

into me, letting me feel every last inch of him. With my legs together, my pussy

seemed tighter and his cock seemed thicker, almost painfully so.

Once he was all the way inside me, his hips stopped, but the heels of his hands

kept kneading my back, my shoulders, the sides of my neck. Every time his weight

shifted, his cock moved almost imperceptibly inside me, nudging my G-spot just

enough to make it impossible for me to breathe. Otherwise, though, he was still. He

was simply inside me. Simply
there.

Every place he touched became erogenous, and I dug my elbows into the bed,

pressing back against him, needing him deeper.

Damaged Goods

107

The pressure from his hands diminished until they barely touched me, sliding

lightly over my oiled skin. Starting at my shoulders, he made featherlight circles,

each a little lower than the last until they brushed over the tingling base of my

spine. Then they slid onto my sides and down to my hips and there, finally there, he

held tighter. Grasping me. Steadying me.

When he started to withdraw, I gasped. He"d been still for so long, simply

being inside me without moving, my body didn"t want to let him go. My pussy

tightened around him, but he continued pulling out, pulling almost all the way out.

And there was nothing I could do but let him. Surrender to him. I shuddered,

moaning softly when the head of his cock slid past my G-spot.

“Oh my God, Austin,” I breathed.

“Baby, you feel so good this way.” He slid back in just as slowly. “You"re so…”

A soft moan. “You"re so tight.” When he was all the way in, he stopped, releasing a

ragged breath. “Do you like it this way?”

“Yes,” I moaned, drawing my hips forward to keep him moving. I didn"t want

him to pull out. I wanted him all the way inside my pussy, but I didn"t want him to

stop
moving
. “I love it. I
love
it.”

“Good.” He moved a little faster now, and in this position, I was powerless to

do anything except lie there and love it.

I reached forward to grab the slats on the headboard. I couldn"t hold on to him,

but I needed something to keep me here. I"d never felt anything like this. He was

inside me, over me, touching me, fucking me. His cock moved as slowly as his

hands, overwhelming my senses with…
him.

He slowed down and shifted his weight, his hands releasing my hips and

moving to my back again.

“I wish you could see what I see right now,” he said, barely whispering. His

hands ran down my sides—just touching now, no longer massaging—and he

released a hiss of breath when he pulled out slowly, then pushed back in. “Jesus,

baby, your body is fucking beautiful.”

Fingertips trailed up the center of my spine, and I arched my back, seeking

more.

One hand lifted off me. Skin whispered across sheets. First his hand, then his

forearm, came to rest on the bed beside me. The other arm did the same, and his

slick fingers hooked over my elbows, and he used my arms as leverage as he moved

faster.

His breath warmed the back of my neck, but the touch of his lips to my skin

still startled me. His thrusts were deep, urgent, his hands tightening around my

arms every time he drove himself into me.

“Oh God, Austin,” I moaned. “Oh God, you feel so good…” I probably sounded

on the verge of tears, and maybe I was, but all I knew was how close I was to falling

completely apart.

108

Lauren Gallagher

He abruptly released my arm and grabbed the same headboard slat I was

holding, then did the same with his other hand. A growl emerged from somewhere

deep within him, and he fucked me even harder, the bed creaking in time with his

rapid, desperate rhythm. His breath came in short, sharp gasps against the back of

my neck, and through the tears welling up in my eyes, I could barely see how much

his arms tensed with each thrust.

Everything about this was surreal. Overwhelming. Contradictory. Primal and

tender. Painful and perfect. Savage and sensual.

Hints of flickering amber candlelight reflected off the sheen of sweat and oil on

his skin, and his muscles rippled and quivered. His masculine scent mingling with

the sweet smell of massage oil made me tremble, and no sound was ever more erotic

than the bed frame groaning in time with the sharp whispers of breath beside my

ear.

Every stroke drove me closer yet seemed to keep my climax that much further

out of my reach. Closer and further, too much and not enough,
can’t wait and can’t

take it…

“Austin.” I drew in a breath and closed my eyes, gripping the headboard for

dear life and using it to push back against him, desperate for more. “Oh God,

Austin…” I couldn"t continue because I couldn"t release my breath.

“Let yourself go, baby,” he whispered. “Don"t hold back. I want”—his voice

faltered—“I want to feel you…”

And I let go.

Of my breath. Of the headboard. Of everything.

With a throaty roar that collapsed into a soft whimper, he shuddered against

me.

His chest rested against my back, though he kept most of his weight on his

elbows. After a moment, his hands released the headboard slats in the same instant

his lips released a long, ragged breath.

“Feel better?” he murmured, kissing the back of my neck.

“God, yes.”

His soft laughter simultaneously warmed and cooled my damp skin. “I thought

that might help.” He pushed himself up and pulled out slowly. While he took care of

the condom, I rolled onto my side, brushing a few strands of hair out of my face.

Feel better? Oh, he was damn right I felt better.

Austin joined me in bed again, pulling the sheet up over us and draping his

arm over my waist. Neither of us spoke. In the soft, flickering candlelight, we just

looked at each other.

Maybe it was the different lighting, maybe a few months had dulled my

memory, but I couldn"t put the face looking back at me now in the doorway of that

hotel room the night we met. I"d paid someone for a couple of nights in bed, a

clandestine role-playing game in my office, and somehow that man was now
this

man. Sabian the stranger to Austin the lover.

Damaged Goods

109

Of course I"d known for some time this was more than just sex for cash, but

tonight it felt…different. Those first nights, I"d seen him as someone who would be

there and gone. Ships passing in the night. Tonight, here in his bed and his arms,

he looked like a more permanent fixture. Someone who"d be around for a while, at

least. There was no ticking clock waiting to see him out, no need for me to drink

him in and memorize him so I"d someday look back and still remember his face,

because he wasn"t going anywhere.

Austin touched my face, the vague slickness of his fingertips reminding my

nerve endings of his mind-bending massage. I closed my eyes, and a second later,

his lips met mine. I wondered if he could fathom the effect his kiss had on me, what

these slow, tender movements did to my pulse. No one else"s kiss had ever reduced

the universe to the space we occupied. Something like this simply couldn"t be wrong.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized just how much I wanted

Austin in my life. Right or wrong, I wanted this to be more than a fling, and if it had

any chance of lasting beyond that, there were things that had to be addressed.

Complications that couldn"t be ignored.

Austin looked into my eyes and caressed my cheek. “You okay?”

I nodded.

“You"re tense again all of a sudden,” he said. “Something else on your mind?”

“Yeah.” I swallowed hard. “Yeah, there is.” I chewed the inside of my cheek.

“This is going to sound crazy, but I want to tell my ex-husband about you.”

His brow furrowed. “Your ex? Like, tell him that we"re dating? Or what I do?”

“Both.”

Austin"s lips parted. “How do you think he"ll take it?”

“I don"t know.” I sighed. “To be honest, I have no idea. But I think it would be

better for him to know in the beginning, for us to be completely up front about it,

rather than have him find out later.” I took a breath. “Like, have him find out
after

you"ve met my kids.”

He blinked. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “I want you to meet my kids.”

A smile played at his lips, but it didn"t last. “I do want to meet them, but are

you sure this is the way to go? He might flip out.”

“I know. But he"d be even more upset if I told him or he found out later. I"d

rather keep everything on the table and out in the open than have to explain it to

him after the fact.”

“Understandable,” he said, “but what if he decides to take you to court or

something? I don"t want you losing your kids because of me, babe.”

“He won"t take them,” I said. “He"s more reasonable than that.”

“Yeah, but are you sure this is a risk you want to take? I don"t want to lose

you, but if you stand to lose
them
…”

110

Lauren Gallagher

The truth was I knew it was a risk. A small one, but a risk nonetheless. The

prospect scared the hell out of me, but what could I do?

“Jocelyn,” he whispered, touching my face, “I don"t want you risking custody of

your kids for me.”

I put my hand over his. “Then what do you suggest? If we"re going to continue

seeing each other—and I want to—we"ll have to address this sooner or later.”

He was quiet for a moment. “It"s your call. You know him better than I do. But

I know from experience, this kind of thing doesn"t usually go over well.”

“I don"t expect him to be thrilled with it, but he"ll deal with it.” Squeezing his

hand, I said, “I know him. This is the best way to go where he and the kids are

concerned.”

“So how would we go about this?” he asked. “Would you want to talk to him

first, then have him meet me?”

“I was thinking it would be best if I meet him somewhere, talk to him, and

have you join us. That way he has time to chew on it but doesn"t have time to go

sleep on it and let himself get worked up after conjuring up some stereotypical

image of you.”

Austin laughed. “Yeah, I suppose that would be a bad idea.” He raised his head

and leaned in to kiss me gently. “Are you sure about this?”

“If we"re going to do this, then let"s just jump in with both feet and quit

pretending we"re not doing it.” I took a breath. “I"m not giving you an ultimatum or

anything, Austin. I just—I don"t want to put this off.” I ran my fingers through his

damp hair. “I"m not ashamed of what you are, and I don"t want to hide you.”

Austin avoided my eyes for a moment. Then he swallowed hard. “What if he

objects to me meeting the kids?”

I exhaled. There were only so many options if that happened. One option in

particular would be painful for both of us.

“We"ll cross that bridge if and when we get there,” I whispered.

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