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Better question—why does it even matter?
I’m much too afraid to inspect my thoughts and feelings for an answer.
“I just knew I couldn’t stay away. Not after today.” Another heavy silence falls over us as our gazes cling. My hands drift to his chest and his eyes search mine in the darkness as if it’s possible to sift through all my innermost thoughts and dig down to the truth.
If only it were that easy.
Everything inside me cautiously lifts. I’m almost afraid to ask. “Do you believe me?”
“I want to.” His voice turns solemn.
“That’s not good enough,” I whisper.
A sharp shaft of grief slices through me. It feels as if my heart is breaking into a thousand tiny pieces, and I can’t imagine it being put back together again.
“I know, but I want to believe you. What I feel…” His words trail off into nothingness.
“Tell me.”
His fingers lock around my wrists, removing them from his chest before leaning forward and pressing them into the mattress above my head. His face hovers inches above mine.
“Things I don’t want to. Things I wish I didn’t.”
My heart skips a painful beat before pounding into overdrive at the reluctant admittance.
“Is that really so bad?”
“I don’t know.” He shakes his head as if genuinely confused. “There’ve been girls before, but none have ever made me feel the way you do. And I’m afraid you’re just toying with me.”
“I’m not.” Now it’s my turn to examine his eyes. “I had no idea what Jasper was planning to do. The day after you picked me up on the side of the road and took me home, I told him we were through. I no longer cared if he made my life hell. I just needed to be free of him.” My mind tumbles back to that conversation. “He lost it and then stomped out of the house. I thought it was over between us. But then he picked me up for school Monday morning and was acting as if he were genuinely sorry. He asked if I would keep our breakup a secret because of the fundraiser. He was being so nice, and I thought if giving in made it easier afterward, then it would be worth it. He set both of us up. Not just you.” I gulp and force out the rest. “He knew I had feelings for you, and he found a way to ruin it.”
“Jasper didn’t ruin anything,” he murmurs. “Because I’m here. As much as I’ve tried to hold you at a distance, I can’t do it.”
“What I’m telling you is the truth,” I whisper, needing him to believe me.
Leaning forward, his lips brush over mine. Back and forth they sweep until I’m dizzy with the sensation. I draw his warm, minty breath into my lungs as his tongue licks at my mouth.
A whimper escapes from me as I shift beneath him, restless for more. When I lift my arms, attempting to tangle them around his neck, his fingers tighten, pressing them back to the mattress.
“I want to touch you,” I whisper.
His lips curve as he shakes his head. “I don’t think I could stand that right now. I refuse to come in my pants for a second time today.”
Even thinking about what happened in both Ms. Pettijohn’s office and in his vehicle this afternoon is enough to have my core throbbing with need. He kisses the corners of my lips before settling over the fullness as his tongue brushes across the seam. When I open, he steals inside.
Austin is all sharp edges, but there’s a softness to him as if he’s trying to hold back and take this slow. The self-control he exerts only makes me want him more. It also makes me wonder what it would be like to see him when he’s not holding back, being gentle because he knows that’s what I need.
Powerful.
Dominating.
Forceful.
Those are the adjectives that spring to mind when I think about Austin Hawthorne.
Barely harnessed energy on the verge of breaking free.
The way he touches me is enough to set my body to flames.
