Hopeless Vows (17 page)

Without thinking, I close the distance between us and kiss him. It starts off slow, but quickly picks up tempo. It’s a role reversal of sorts. It’s my turn to show him with actions how I feel. And right now, I feel wanted, cherished.

Loved.

I know we’re not there yet, but it’s the closest I’ve ever felt to that emotion and I want to hold on to it for dear life before it’s ripped away by reality.

Austin grips my ass and pulls me against him so my most sensitive area is in direct contact with his. I gasp from the initial shock of the movement, but it’s swallowed up by Austin’s mouth on mine. He slides my jacket off of my shoulders, never breaking contact. When it’s off, he pulls away.

“Don’t want to give America a show.” He drapes my jacket over the camera that’s mounted to the front of the bike.

“Good thinking,” I pant out, already breathless. I swear each kiss takes the air right out of my lungs while breathing new life in. It’s the strangest sensation and I can’t get enough of it.

His lips attach to my neck. I lean back, allowing him better access. He hits the sensitive spot on my collarbone, earning him a moan as I arch up into him. “You’ll have to be quiet, gorgeous. There’s still audio on the camera,” he whispers in my ear before sucking on my earlobe.

I have to bite my lip to stifle the noise that threatens to come out. My hands thread through his hair, yanking on it to direct his attention to places I crave. A low growl rumbles in the back of his throat as I do it. “I love the way you smell, the way you taste,” he says in between licking, biting, and sucking my neck.

My hands fist his shirt and pull him to me. In a frenzy, my lips find his, needing more, needing all of it. “Austin . . .” I plead.

“I know. Relax, I’ll take care of you.” Leaning back, he grabs the bottom of my shirt and lifts it over my head, leaving me straddling him on his bike in my jeans and pink lace bra. Looking into my eyes, he dips his finger into the cusp of my bra and pulls it down. We communicate silently, letting him know this is okay. He doesn’t waste a second and dives to capture my tight nipple in his mouth. He sucks hard, making me gasp as my eyes roll back and my lids close. He swirls his tongue around it before giving it a gentle bite and moving on to my other breast.

After toying with my nipple for a while, I’m a writhing mess, anxious for any kind of friction. Without realizing it, I begin to rock against Austin, my wet center seeking some relief from the building tension.

“I’ve got you,” he reassures. His fingers make quick work of my button and zipper on my pants before his hand slides in. I try to stay quiet, but once his finger grazes my clit, I can’t hold it in anymore.

“Yes, right there.” He circles my bundle of nerves at a constant, steady pace. I climb higher and higher, becoming more eager to fall over the edge. When I don’t think I can take anymore torture, I finally explode into a million, amazing, completely satisfied pieces. He doesn’t stop, letting me ride out the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever experienced. I swear to God I’m seeing stars after that.

He peppers kisses across my face as I come back down from my high. “Holy shit, that was . . .” Words fail me. There’s not a word in the dictionary that could adequately describe how I feel right now.

“Fucking amazing,” he finishes for me.

“Yeah, fucking amazing.”

Austin pulls my shirt over my head and helps me get dressed. I just happen to look down and see a rather large bulge straining against his pants. “Oh,” I say awkwardly. “You, uh, I mean do you want me to . . .” I trail off and point to his
problem
.

“Nah, I’m good. That was for you.” He winks and gives me another kiss before nipping my bottom lip and pulling away.

And that might have been the last wall defending my heart against Austin.

“WHAT’S YOUR BIGGEST
pet peeve? Something that drives you absolutely crazy,” I ask when we wake up.

“Blinkers,” he states without any thought.

“Blinkers?”

“Yeah, when people don’t use their turn signals. It drives me up the fucking wall.” He looks over at me and I arch my eyebrow in amusement. “Seriously, it puts me in a rage. What?” he asks after I start to laugh.

“It’s funny because that’s one of my biggest pet peeves too. I want to yell at the driver and tell him they’re not there for decorations.”

“Yeah! Good, then you understand the struggle.”

“I do.” A warm smile graces my face before the camera crew barges in and sets up.

Thinking of our private time this morning is a reminder of how much more there is to learn about each other. The more time I spend with him, the more I want to learn. I want to know what makes him laugh. What makes him happy. What his likes and dislikes are. His goals and ambitions. I want to know it all. And the hardest thing I’ve had to admit to myself is I can see myself wanting to be by his side through it all.

The only question is could it work? There’s not a doubt in my mind it would be over if he knew everything about me. There’d be no other option. But what if I never told him? Could I live with myself knowing our relationship is built on a lie?

I’m not sure.

The longer this experiment goes on, the more I fall for him, and the more the deceit eats at me. When I lie awake some nights, it crawls up my body, tickling my skin, reminding me that underneath, I’m a horrible human being.

Deceitful.

Cowardly.

Manipulative.

Selfish.

All negative adjectives, and all describe me.

He’ll never find out,
whispers an inner voice. What’s worse is it also tells me it’s okay to keep this from him. That the two of us can live out this fantasy unscathed and content. As delusional as my inner voice is, I find myself clinging to it like a leech, feasting on the lie.

Distracted by my internal battle while walking through the city, I don’t realize who is headed in my direction until it is too late.

“Jillian, what a nice surprise,” Chloe says in an overly sweet tone. Hell, I might get a sugar high after too much exposure.

Mustering up the best smile I can, I reply, “How are you, Chloe?”

“I’m good, just busy showing properties. How’s Austin?”

As his name rolls off her tongue, my back stiffens. I know Austin said there was nothing between them, but I still don’t like the way she acts with him. She has no respect for boundaries and I don’t trust her one bit. “He’s good, real good.”
Seems everyone is good.
I mentally roll my eyes. This whole conversation is going nowhere fast.

Her eyes squint and she looks at me with a sideways glance when I flash her a tight smile. “Something is different about you . . .” she trails off as she taps her index finger to her thin lips. Then, a light bulb goes off. “You’ve slept with him,” she says matter-of-factly. My eyes widen in surprise as I glance around at our surroundings, afraid someone might hear, and mortified that the camera is in our faces. But then my mind goes to the other day on his bike. We might not have had sex, but that was one of the most erotic moments of my life. There was something so damn sexy and liberating about sitting on Harley while he touched and made me feel like no other man has been able to. My cheeks flush, and that must be the only confirmation she needs, even if it’s not true.

“Ah ha! I knew it! You’re blushing!” She takes a step toward me and lowers her voice. “I swear he’s the best I’ve ever had. Is he still a hair puller?” She bites her lip, anxiously waiting for me to dish the details of my sex life. Except I have no response at all. My blood runs cold and I feel light headed as my mind processes what she’s just said to me.

He lied to me.

My stomach flips with this new information. Images from the other day when she was in my room flash through my mind. Her touching his arm. The lustful expression on her face. The fact she didn’t care she was in his personal space. It all makes sense now. She’s had Austin and wants more.

“Don’t be shy. You can tell me. It’s just a little girl talk.”

Shaking my head, I stutter, “I—uh, we, um—we didn’t—or haven’t—”

“Oh!” Her hand goes to her mouth. “I guess I just assumed. I mean with a hot body like that, how do you resist?” Her eyebrow arches as she shoots me a smug look, knowing she’s hit her mark. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

“I’m not a slut.” My hand clamps over my mouth and my eyes bulge out as the words slip out. “Oh, God. I didn’t mean—I better go.” Without waiting for a response, I rush past her. Judging by the look on her face, I’m guessing whatever she had to say wouldn’t be good.

With each step I take, my anger grows. Austin should have admitted he slept with her when I had asked about them. Had he told me, I wouldn’t have been blindsided by that wench. God, I’m completely humiliated.

I hate her.

Right now, I hate him too.

Austin and I are scheduled to see the panel of experts tonight. In fact, that’s where I’m headed now. Normally, I don’t mind talking to the therapists. They’re here to help us build a strong, lasting relationship. And I’ll definitely use the advice they give in my future relationships.
If I have any.
But today is different because I know I won’t be able to keep quiet about this and the therapist will force me to talk about it. Honestly, I don’t want to hear what Austin has to say in response. I can’t be sure that whatever comes out of his mouth will be the truth.

But you’re lying too,
a voice whispers
.

I’m aware this makes me a hypocrite, but I push that to the recesses of my mind and focus in on my anger.

Walking into Dr. Patrick’s office, I see Austin is there waiting on me. His face lights up when he notices me, but my mood doesn’t match his. “Hey, gorgeous.” He stands up and leans in to kiss me. I turn my head and give him my cheek. His head tilts to the side with his eyebrows pulled in.

“Good afternoon, Jillian. Please, have a seat,” Dr. Patrick greets. Without addressing Austin’s obvious confusion, I take a seat and wait for our session to begin. “Today we’ll be talking about the foundation of any relationship; trust.”

“Ha!” I let out a humorless laugh before mumbling, “How fitting.”

“Is there something you’d like to share, Jillian?” Dr. Patrick asks gently.

“Nope, I’m not the one who has anything to tell.” My arms cross over my chest defiantly.

“What’s going on?” Austin asks.

“You tell me.”

“Okay, this isn’t productive. Jillian, why don’t you face Austin and explain to him what has you upset?”

Turning toward him in my chair, I stare at him with pursed lips. The site of his concerned, chocolate brown eyes only pisses me off. “I ran into your
friend
today. Actually, it was on my way here. And she had a lot to say.”

“Okay, I’m getting sick of this cryptic shit. Just spit it out and quit playing games,” he demands. He’s getting mad? Good. Although, I’m sure that’s about to change in a few seconds.

“Chloe let me know just how much you enjoy pulling her hair while you fucked her.” His eyes go wide before all the color drains from his face. He might have even stopped breathing. No doubt that was the last thing he expected me to say. “You can’t even deny it, can you?” As pissed off as I am, I was holding out hope that she was full of shit and just trying to get to me. But based on his reaction, I know she’s telling the truth, and that hurts more. A pain I didn’t expect grows in my chest, and I can’t even look at him anymore.

When my attention is focused back on the doctor, Dr. Patrick asks, “Is this something you two have previously discussed?”

Austin starts to speak up, but I cut him off. “I didn’t get a good vibe from her and asked about the nature of their relationship. He told me they only went out once. He never mentioned he’d had sex with her and made me feel like a jealous psycho when I questioned him after I found them talking in our bedroom when I came home early.” Now that I’m talking it out, the anger dissipates, surprising me by how much this actually hurts.

“Austin, would you like to respond?” Dr. Patrick asks.

From the corner of my eye, I see him run his hand through his hair a couple times and fidget in his seat. “Yes, it’s true. I have slept with Chloe, but only one time. I didn’t lie when I told you I’d only gone out with her once. I just didn’t tell you we had sex that night too,” he says to me. He at least has the decency to sound remorseful.