Losing Me, Finding You (7 page)

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Authors: C.M. Stunich

BOOK: Losing Me, Finding You
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I reach up and grab Amy's chin hard, pulling her forward so that she trips and falls fully against me, rubbing her breasts along my chest as my hand slides down and cups her ass, nice and firm. She yelps, but she doesn't say a word, eyes flickering open and locking onto mine without a hint of fear. A wicked smile curves my lips.
I knew it. This girl might be a virgin, but she's not some innocent little doe; she wants this, maybe more than I do.

“Let me take care of you, baby. Whatever it is that's bothering you, I'll help you forget,” I say, pulling her face up to mine and crushing my lips against hers.

Austin grabs me roughly and slams me into his firm body, grabbing my behind –
ass, Amy, it's an ass –
and searing my face with his hot mouth. A noise escapes me and sends goose bumps springing up on my arms and legs. It's a sound that I've never heard come from my throat and it's a bit startling. My mind, so used to analyzing everything, wants to focus on this, to force me away from this man that smells like oil and leather, but it loses out to the wants of my body. Long denied her basic right to feel
human
, she lifts my arms up of her own accord, rallying against my uncertainty and my trepidation at the unknown. My fingers tangle in Austin's sandy hair as his tongue slips into my mouth, teasing me with hot, slick strokes while his own fingers massage my butt with a ferocity that's almost frightening.

Oh dear,
I realize as another moan slips out of me and mingles in the space of hot breath between Austin's and my mouth.
You're just like my favorite book boyfriend. Now I know why I was so drawn to you.
I try my best not to recall the very arousing scene in which Glance Serone thrusts his hard cock into the horribly sex-starved Miss Sali Bend.

I fail miserably.

And then I'm thinking about that scene and how many times I read it and how I rubbed myself in circles through the thick cotton of my very tasteful, very dull, laceless, nude panties.

“Austin,” I whisper as he steps forward and uses the weight of his body to get me right where he wants me. I want to keep kissing forever, tasting sultry Southern boy and good manners and a filthy fucking mouth, but I think he has other plans.

“If you don't want this,” he whispers as he grazes my ear with his white, white teeth. “Then you better tell me now because once I get started, I ain't gonna be able to stop.”

How unfair,
I think because really, there is no way that I can speak with scalding kisses being pressed to the side of my neck and my shoulder. Instead, another sound escapes my lips, bursting out into the air like a sigh of relief.
Finally,
I think.
After all these years of reading about bad boys and alpha males and delicious men with ridiculous names, it's my turn. Mine. Mine. Sorry, Horse; Sorry, Kellan Kyle; Sorry, Ty McCabe; Sorry, Travis Maddox; Sorry, Gideon Cross. But I'm breaking up with all of you.

“That's what I thought.”

Austin Sparks crushes me against the pool table with his hips, the roughness of his jeans rubbing against the smoothness of my thighs as he pushes up my skirt with his warm hands.

“Get ready for this, beautiful.”

And then he's spinning me around, so suddenly that my mouth opens wide and my cheek (my unbruised one, thankfully) slams into the felt of the pool table.

Austin, slow down, I tell myself as I come face to face with Amy's ass. Oh fuck. If I had thought it was nice before, I think it's friggin' perfect now, nice and round and plump. I resist the urge to slap it, figuring that maybe that'd be a bit much for Cross to handle at the moment. One step at a time, Austin. I take a deep breath and wait for her to protest, to tell me to step off and fuck off.

She doesn't.

Instead, Amy moans and wiggles the warmth of her body against my crotch. Shit, hell, and damn, I think as I unzip my jeans and reach into my back pocket for a condom. Think what you want about that, but it sure as shit comes in handy during moments like these.

“Better keep quiet,” I warn her as she moans and moves her hands back to brace herself like maybe she's done this before. I stare at the back of her head, at the long flow of silken hair, and even the brief thought of another man putting his hands on Amy sends me into this violet-eyed rage where I'm liable to start throwing punches. Her cheek, did she have a fight with a boyfriend? Without realizing what I'm doing, I squeeze her hip so hard that she yelps, and the sound of the bar comes crashing down around me – voices, glasses clinking, chairs sliding across the worn wood of the floor.

I don't even think about stopping; that's not an option anymore.

I wet my lips and bend down over Amy, more determined than ever to have her, claim her, mark her as my own. Crazy as it sounds, already I'm thinking up a pitch for the Pres, getting ready to tell him that I've found our next recruit. It's stupid as hell and doesn't make much sense, but when I imagine Amy's arms around me, the open road stretching out before us, I feel something. I can't figure out what it is at the moment. After all, I've got one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen bent over a pool table in front of me. But later, I will sort this out. After all, Amy Cross isn't the first small town girl that I've had a bit of fun with, just the first that's managed to get my panties in a wad.

“Shh,” I whisper in her ear, drawing her hair back with my fingers, feeling her shudder beneath the weight of my body. “If somebody hears you, they're going to want to come see what's going on.” I pause and listen to the sound of her breathing, the soft whimpers that manage to escape from her throat despite her pursed lips. “Unless you like being watched?” I ask as I lick her ear and push my hips forward, rubbing the hard bulge of my cock along her tight skirt. Amy shakes her head, and I can't help but hold back a chuckle, standing up and pushing her skirt the rest of the way up.

Austin is teasing me. Bastard, I think as his rough hands caress my thighs and expose my very tasteful, very dull, laceless, nude panties. He pauses for a moment, and I suck in a big breath, worried that he's going to stop, that he's going to step away from the baggy cotton shaking his head and mumbling under his breath.

“You silly girl, you,” he laughs and then he's tugging them back forcefully and letting them drop to the floor where they tangle around my ankles. Once again, I use my reading knowledge to keep the moment as hot and seamless as possible. After all, Sali Bend once said to her equally sex starved friend, Brandi Waters,
“When the panties drop, dear God, girl, make sure you unhook at least one ankle or when he gets to that epic moment where he wants to kick your legs apart and ram you, you're not gonna be ready!”

I lift one of my white heels (my mother bought them for me for Easter last year, if you must know) out of the leg hole and set it back on the floor, bracing myself for what I'm sure is going to be a life changing experience. After all, this is the night of my first kiss, my first time, and my new life because whether Austin lets me join his motorcycle club or not, I'm leaving. I can't really say what it is that's gotten into me, but it's too late to put a lid on it now. The possibility of change has risen its head, and I can't look away from that penetrating gaze.

I feel warmth pressing against me, and I can't help the butterflies that take off of in my stomach, leaving me a knotted mess of anticipation. This better be as good in real life as it is in my books, or I'm going to be quite upset. I close my eyes and gasp as something pushes inside of me, sliding deep into a place even I've never been. It doesn't feel like a … cock … so I glance back at Austin and see that he's teasing me with his hand, caressing me in ways that make my toes curl and my lips part with soft sighs of pleasure.

I try to take it easy with Amy, but it isn't something that comes naturally. I'm fighting every instinct in my damn body that's begging me to thrust inside of her warmth and make her mine. Instead, I caress her slick pussy with two fingers, sliding them in and out as gently as possible while my muscles quiver and my lip twitches with my repressed desire.

“Austin,” Amy whimpers and I have to close my eyes to keep from forcing myself inside of her. I've been with virgins a handful of times before, and I know that most of them can't take it all right off the bat. Never bothered me before, but with Amy, I can't help but wanting to take it slow, show her a good time. Sounds like she put a spell on you, Austin Sparks, my mind whispers, but I ignore the thought, focused wholly on the gentle pulse of Amy's body and the throbbing sensation from down under. Hot damn, I'll be lucky if I survive this, I think as I slide my fingers out and touch them to her clit, smiling as she shivers and wiggles against me. “Shit,” she says and the word sounds foreign coming from that soft mouth, those rounded lips.

“You like that?” I ask her quietly, working hard to keep my voice pitched low. There's nothing I want more than to dirty talk Miss Amy until even her ass blushes red, but the thought of Mireya or Beck or Gaine coming through those doors and finding us convinces me that I better get this over with quick. How long till somebody gets in their mind that they wanna play a game o' pool? I have a pretty good feeling that if another man walks in here and sees Cross bent over this table, that I'm going to go buck wild and deck his ass. “Then I think you'll like this even better.”

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