by Tessa Bailey
“Let me have a suck, goddammit.” Austin didn’t know his own voice. He was a different man. His throat was thick, his vision hazy.
Polly’s tongue traveled up the underside of his shaft in a slow, torturous lick. “You taste so good. Don’t rush me.”
A blinding light flickered in front of his eyes, produced by a sharp combination of pleasure and pain. She doesn’t want to rush? Give her a fucking reason to change her mind. Desperate to feel the adorable flex of her ass, he slipped his hands between her round cheeks and the wall, squeezing as he teased her clit with several light strokes, before adding pressure to the movements of his tongue. Those muscles jumped against his palms, giving her away and drawing his balls up so tight he released a ragged moan. But he didn’t stop his treatment of her sensitive nub, alternately worrying her between his lips and loving her with his tongue. Finally, her mouth closed around his dick and pulled hard.
God, yes. Yes, yes, yes.
Refusing to cease his quest to drive her to climax, his vile curse was relegated to his head where it echoed loudly enough to rattle his skull. Christ, would he ever stop being so desperate to come with Polly? His abdominal muscles were spasming with the effort to keep his seed from spilling. Never. He would never finish before her. His only option was to get her there quicker.
Austin traced the touch of his right hand over her ass, dipping into the space between her cheeks, placing his index and middle finger over her back entrance. Just a light presence. Until he tapped them over her puckered flesh twice to gauge her reaction. Her moan vibrated up his erection, pummeling him in the stomach. That’s right, you bad girl. I’ve got your fucking number. A fact that became even more obvious when she gripped his bottom and yanked him toward her mouth, taking him so deep, Austin’s eyes rolled back in his head.
He tapped against her harder, harder, until he was two-finger slapping her over the delicate entrance of her ass, never stopping the whipping of his tongue against her pleasure-needy button. Her fingertips clawed at his backside, thighs beginning to shake around his head. There was no way to stop the roll of his hips toward the perfection of her mouth, but she welcomed him with husky moans that turned into an abrupt scream.
Fuck yes. The orgasm racked her upside-down body, giving him the privilege of experiencing the climax along with her.
“That’s it. Moan for me. Tell me how it feels to come with your ass in the air. It won’t be the last time.” He massaged her backside, spurring on her climax by stabbing his tongue inside her as she contracted. In and out. In and out. Christ, she had the most intoxicating taste. He could get drunk on her. “Now here’s a tight pussy worth driving all night for. Wanted me to come and get it, didn’t you, sweet? You might as well have rung a fucking dinner bell.”
His own release was fast approaching, every muscle in his body drawing tighter than a bowstring. The permission he craved didn’t come as Polly’s body liquefied against him. She knew what held him back, knew what he wanted to hear. Only her green light would symbolize her total satisfaction, and he would never finish until he heard it out loud. The impish purring in her throat, her nonvocal denial, cranked his desire to eleven, while simultaneously driving him to the brink of madness. She tightened her lips around the base of his throbbing length and sucked her way up, so snug, so greedy for his breaking point, it took every ounce of remaining willpower not to let go.
Sweat dripping down his temples, shaking head to toe, Austin’s voice came out sounding strangled. “I need to come so bad…”
The purring continued, her mouth venturing once more down his hard inches, tongue swirling around his flesh on the way back up. Austin’s mouth fell open on a ragged groan, his intent to beg more, again, as long as she wanted. Then her palm slapped down on his left buttock and the room tilted around him. She smoothed her hand over the stinging area with a hum of concern around his cock before raining down another smack, harder than the first one.
“Jesus Christ, Polly.” His head fell back, eyes staring blindly up at the ceiling. Euphoria tore through him, knees almost buckling beneath his impending annihilation. Punishment and reward. The conflicting actions blurred together until their meanings were the same. It felt like a turning point…an open door that led to a place free of guilt, and he ran through at full speed. A door Polly had opened. “Let me, let me, let me. Need to fuck it all into your cruel mouth. I’m dying. Ah fuck, it hurts so badly.”
She released his tip, gave it a lick. “Say please.”
The words scraped from his throat. “Please, Mistress.”
Her hand landed on his ass with enough force to jar his teeth. “Yes.”
Austin hung on to Polly with one arm, bracing himself on the wall with the other, lest he collapse. Breathing was an impossibility as the most fulfilling release of his lifetime shook his foundation, cracking it down the center. Even without the warm suction of her mouth, it would have been perfection, but she gave it to him, gave him her throat and fuuuuuck. Austin’s shout emanated from the deepest pit of his soul, sounding distant to his ringing ears. It was too good, enough to capsize him. He gently tugged Polly’s mouth away and let the rest of his essence land on the floor. A moment passed where he was freezing, or overheated, he couldn’t tell, before he managed to turn Polly over. Then there was nothing, nothing, nothing, but wrapping her in his arms and falling against the wall with a bang, listing to the side, and lowering them both to the ground.
It couldn’t have gotten any better, but it did, because she clung to him. Polly clung to him, like he’d been the one to wreck her. Everything and nothing made sense. Which was confusing. But he would figure it out when his heart wasn’t trapped in his throat, beating with enough zeal to crush a windpipe.
“What the hell are we going to do about anything?”
Polly was silent a moment before she started laughing into his neck. A full, content sound that made Austin want to buy the house and live in it forever, just praying for an echo of that laugh. “You say the best things when you don’t think about them first,” she murmured.
Replaying that sentiment in his head on repeat, Austin cracked open one eye to see a black fur ball just beyond Polly’s shoulder, watching them from his perch on the windowsill. “A cat was watching us that whole time. I don’t know whether to be embarrassed or outraged.”
“Be whatever you want. Just don’t make a pussy joke.”
A corner of Austin’s lip turned up. “I wasn’t even thinking about it. You’ve ruined me.” He tightened his hold around Polly’s huddled form. “When I promised you holding, this is not what I pictured.”
She yawned against his shoulder. “I think the breaking and entering was a nice twist.” A heavy passage of silence ensued—one that made him worry—but she broke it before he could descend into full panic mode. “I’m sorry I left. I was just…losing myself. In the planning, the strong-arming of our friends. I needed to take a breather.” When she tilted her head back to meet his eyes, Austin had to bite his tongue to keep from shouting I love you. “But…I’m glad you came. I was so anxious all morning and right before…right before I saw you in the park, I realized it was from missing you.”
Breathe. Breathe. Missing someone was a long way off from loving, so he needed to keep his shit together until she got there, too. And he had to have faith that she would. Otherwise what was the point of living anymore? “Polly, I don’t want you to lose yourself. I can amend the plan to leave you out of it. I—”
“No.” She shook her head. “No. I need to know I played a part in ending the pain he causes. I need to be involved or I’ll always regret it.”
Austin swallowed hard. “What if you regret being involved even more? I can relate to that, sweet. It’s an ugly feeling and you’re too beautiful to feel it.”
Time seemed to suspend between them, a brutal ticking of time wherein Austin wondered if he’d said something wrong. In the end, she reached up and smoothed his eyebrow with her thumb. “Do you want to come meet my father?”
Chapter Seventeen
Amazing. The offer of meeting her father hadn’t been made in some postorgasmic haze. And it was some motherfucker of a haze Austin had left her in. On the twenty-minute walk back to her father’s condo, she’d kept expecting to get cold feet. After all, she was about to introduce Reitman’s ex-partner to the man whose life had been obliterated by the very same con. On a scale of chess team captain to unemployed musician, Austin broke the suitable boyfriend scale in half. Then sank it to the bottom of the Chicago River.
But as they’d walked along a back route toward the condo, hands brushing several times before Austin had taken hold of hers with a muttered “grow a pair,” she’d actually started to look forward to the introduction. Drake was an open-minded person who trusted her judgment. And if there were a few bumps along the way to pleasant, Austin knew better than anyone how to take a jab.
Polly frowned over at Austin, who was staring at their joined hands out of the corner of his eye. She didn’t appreciate him having to take so many jabs, or that she’d been the one to deliver them for so long. If everyone could look a little deeper, the way she’d done recently, they would see that he wasn’t the sum of his arrogance. And he was plenty arrogant, but he only used it to hide his generosity, his need to please. Polly flushed at the last part. When they got back to Chicago, she would set about rectifying everyone’s assumption that they could treat Austin like scum stuck to the bottom of their shoes.
“What are you glowering at, sweet?” He lifted her hand to his mouth, breathing on her knuckles. “Do we need to break into another house and traumatize a second feline?”
Stomach twisting in a slow knot, she looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes. “Not right this second, but I reserve the right to make the request at a later date.”
His grip tightened on her hand. “I told you, I don’t accept requests from you.”
She welcomed the tingle of power in her limbs. The more she grew accustomed to the rush, the better it felt. “I’ll tell you when I want it.”
Austin dipped his chin. “Better. So what were you really thinking about?”
The touch of vulnerability in his tone drew honesty out of her. No more holding back. “I was thinking, I can’t wait for the next squad meeting so I can sit beside you again.” The words ached on their way out. “That I’m sorry I missed the chance last time.”
When she risked a look to gauge Austin’s reaction, the intensity she witnessed in his expression made her stumble on the sidewalk. He pulled her close, so close, dropping his forehead onto hers. “Say more things like that.”
Polly gulped for air. “I liked sitting next to you, even when I didn’t want to admit it,” she admitted. “Last week, when I was waiting in your apartment, I stole your shaving cream because the smell comforts me. But it didn’t comfort me when it wasn’t on you. It was always you.” His breath pelted her mouth in harsh pants, encouraging her to keep going. Sensing that her praise was affecting him in some important, unseen way. “I don’t ever want you to disguise yourself from me or for me ever again.”
“Okay,” he whispered. “I hated the times I was unrecognizable to you, Polly. I always want you to recognize me.”
“I recognized you today. I think I always will now.”
His eyes closed briefly. “That was the best feeling I’ve had in a long time.” He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and released it gently. “Not counting the times you’ve had your hands on me. Or the times you’ve looked at me or spoken to me. Or drank the tea I brought you.” Her top lip got a turn in Austin’s mouth. “You are the feeling.”
If she stood on the sidewalk letting his mouth play with hers another minute, she would be under Austin-hypnosis. With a commendable effort, Polly stepped back, ignoring his protesting growl. “Is my father the first you’ve been introduced to?”
Austin narrowed his gaze, snagging her hand once again as they started to walk. “What do you think?”
Polly bit back her hesitation. “I told him about you.” She glanced over. “About your chosen career.”
His visible surprise was fleeting, but she suspected he was internalizing. “Should I be glad that you told your father about me? Or worried that this meeting is doomed before it begins?”
“I think he’ll surprise you.”
“Well.” He laughed under his breath. “If he’s anything like his daughter…”
She realized he’d pulled her to a stop outside Drake’s condo and gave him a look, registering for the first time that he’d sat outside waiting for her, dressed like a priest. “You could have picked a more comfortable stakeout disguise.”
He smirked before turning serious. “I didn’t feel anything while I was sitting here. I hated you being out of sight. I always hate it.”
Polly couldn’t swallow around the sudden heaviness in her throat. “Say more things like that.”
“My things aren’t nice like yours.”
“Let me decide.”
He looked to the side, his Adam’s apple rising and falling. “Sometimes when we go an entire week without a squad meeting or a case, I…sit in the back of your diner while you eat breakfast. Just to see your face. And to make sure no one’s with you.”
Polly had to struggle to hear him over the pounding pulse in her ears.
“I like the way you move to stay fresh in my mind. So I can recall it any time I want to see you, but can’t. I like the feeling we’re sharing something, even if you didn’t know it. And I like knowing you order breakfast at random after barely looking at the menu. It’s so unlike you. Why do you do it?”
Afraid the maelstrom of feelings whirring inside her chest would show in her expression, Polly ducked her head. “Everything else in my life is a file icon on my computer screen. Sometimes I like not knowing what’s coming. But I have to resist ordering the blueberry waffles every time, because they’re my favorite.” She turned and headed up the path toward the condo, sensing him directly behind her. It should have bothered her that he’d been watching for months without saying a word. It should, but it didn’t. In a way, it even soothed her, knowing she’d never truly been alone. Austin had been there, fighting the loneliness off without her knowledge or appreciation.
When they reached her father’s door at the far end of the complex, Austin curled a hand around Polly’s elbow and pulled her to a stop, his frustration visible. “If I’ve said too much, it’s down to your encouragement. I just wanted to keep holding your hand and now I’m not.” He glanced at the appendage in question, as if he wanted to take it, but wasn’t sure she’d allow him. “How do I hold it again?”
She knew he wasn’t referring to the present. That he meant beyond today. The future. And it scared her, because she’d never thought past settling her score with Reitman. But he was scared, too, even if he didn’t admit it out loud. This trip to Roanoke had proven one crucial fact, however, which was that they needed each other in a way that transcended a vocal explanation. So they would be scared together and figure out what came after Reitman when the time came.
“You could hold my hand without touching me,” she said, struggling to keep her voice steady. “You’re holding it right now.”
He stared off into the distance, jaw flexing. Trying to downplay and not pulling it off in the slightest. “Blueberry waffles, is it? I would have guessed something more practical, like a cheddar cheese omelet and wheat toast.” When their gazes reconnected, the gravity behind Austin’s knocked her back a step. “I need to eat waffles with you, Polly. I need to know that we have breakfast in our future—normal things that make you happy—or my next breath doesn’t mean shit.”
“We’ll have breakfast.” She took a step closer, and Austin met her halfway. “But never having normal will be what makes us happy.”
He leaned down to growl against her mouth. “I’m going to fuck you senseless at the first opportunity, you realize.”
Halfway through his declaration, the door swung open to reveal
her father, whose smile didn’t waver, even though Polly suspected he’d heard far too much. “Coffee, anyone?”
Austin put a respectable distance between them, looking sheepish for the first time since Polly had met him. “Tea, actually.” He reached into his pants pocket and drew out a fistful of her favorite tea bags, handing them to her confused father.
“That was your doing back at the café?” her father asked.
“Indeed.” Polly could see the moment he decided not to act the part of doting boyfriend—although she knew he definitely had a seamless golden boy act in him—and decided to be real. Be Austin. “I had to find a way to make her need me. She doesn’t need anyone or anything…and I worked with what I had. Because I need her. And so I bought a fuck-ton of tea bags and I’ll dole them out when I feel like it. Until I’m sure she’ll come back to me with or without them. You’ll both need to employ patience.”
Her father split a wary, but slightly bemused, look between them. “Shall we have that tea now?”
Polly laughed and slipped inside, waving at Austin to follow. When she reached the kitchen, she turned to watch Austin venture into the homey condo the way an art expert walks through a museum. Cataloging the nuances of each family picture, making deductions based on her father’s decor choices. She was more eager than ever to pick his brain, to find out how it worked without the biased windshield through which she’d viewed it before.
“This isn’t the place where Polly lived when she was younger,” Austin said conversationally, straightening his right sleeve with a tug of the wrist.
When he didn’t continue, her father quirked an eyebrow in her direction and went to light a fire beneath the kettle. “How did you come to that conclusion?”
“It’s impractical for a young child. Ground floor with no gate between the front door and the pool.” Austin shivered. “Can I assist you with anything?”
