by Marika Ray
The minute his door slammed shut and we were alone, I spun to him and launched in. “I don’t know what you—”
“I’m so sorry.”
His gentle apology washed over my tirade and I fell silent. His eyes spoke more than his lips. They were soft and sincere. What little I had left of my rage was doused by his simple and heartfelt apology.
I sighed. “Austin.”
He put his hand on my arm and leaned closer, not in a suggestive way, but in a “please listen to me” kind of way. “I know. I’m so damn sorry for what I did. All of it. Feeding you, possibly exposing anything about our feelings, smearing the food on your face.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Hell, I wasn’t thinking at all. That’s the problem. I just saw you in that blindfold and I had to touch you.”
His tortured expression melted the hardness I’d built up against him since the taping. That yearning, that desperate pull he described was achingly familiar. I felt it and fought it every time I saw him, heard him, or thought about him.
Being this close, I wondered why I fought it. His blue eyes and unruly hair made all the reasons fade away. The memory of his warm hugs and even hotter kiss ate away at my solid professional reasons for denying what we both wanted.
“Austin.”
He leaned even closer, eyelids drooping. “You keep saying my name like that and I won’t be able to keep my hands off you, Elle.”
“I don’t know that I want you to keep them off me,” I whispered back.
A loud car horn broke us apart, both of us completely unaware that we hadn’t left the hotel. Austin’s car was blocking the flow of cars trying to get in and out.
His laugh echoed in the confined space as he put it in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. “Let’s push pause on that, huh?”
The weather was cold and dreary out, but it felt like a thousand degrees in that car. I couldn’t believe I’d gone from wanting to rip him a new one to almost kissing him in full sight of anyone in the hotel.
“Definitely need a pause button. You’re giving me hot flashes.”
He barked out a laugh that made the edges of my mouth turn up despite myself. “You’re a little too young to be getting hot flashes, Ms. Fierro.”
“Hmm...I wouldn’t say that...” I shook my head and looked out the window at all the traffic. The minute the sky spat rain Los Angeles drivers lost their minds and couldn’t drive, gridlocking every intersection all over town.
“Wait, how old are you?” Austin looked over at me quickly, his eyes growing.
“How old do you think I am?”
“Oh, I don’t think so, lady. I’m not stepping into that quagmire.”
“Quagmire?”
“Yeah, you know. When a woman asks if her new pants make her ass look big. Or a beautiful woman like yourself asks how old I think she is. There is never a good answer. Ever. I refuse to play that game.”
I blinked. I loved his honesty.
“That’s probably a good strategy. I’m thirty-two, by the way.” I shrugged. “Wouldn’t want you stuck in a quagmire.” God, the man made me laugh, throwing out weird words and being afraid of offending me somehow. I mean, he’d been pissing me off left and right since I met him and only now was he worried about that?
I realized belatedly that there was silence in the car, so I looked back over to see his jaw dropped.
“What?”
“You’re thirty-two? Seriously?” Now he had a big grin on his face.
“Yes. What’s so funny about that?” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“I got myself a cougar, that’s what’s funny.” Austin was back to laughing, the expression so natural I wondered if he came into this world with a laugh and a smile. Then his meaning registered and I slapped my hand down on his arm, the one on the gear shifter.
“Wait, how old are you?”
He glanced over and then broke out laughing again.
“Austin!” I gripped his forearm, admiring its girth, but trying to remain focused on getting him to answer.
“Ouch, woman! I’m twenty-two.” He pretended to shake off my hand, then grabbed it and laced our fingers together, placing our joined hands on his thigh.
I couldn’t focus. We were holding hands and it felt so foreign, yet so good. I’d dated plenty in my thirty-two years, but never in long-term relationships where hand holding became a thing. It was intimate, somehow, having a part of my body tangled with his. It made me think of other ways our bodies could be tangled together.
All too soon, he pulled into the parking lot of the location we’d been given for today’s shoot. It looked to be a cute park with a large expanse of grass and tall trees dotting the land. The rain and overcast skies made everything appear dreary and unwelcoming.
Austin brought our hands to his mouth, kissing my hand and each finger before releasing me and climbing out of the car.
I took a few deep breaths and willed away the desire that had bloomed in my belly despite my best efforts to nip it in the bud. Austin was only twenty-two. Barely a man in numbers, but making an impression no man my own age had ever made. And I wasn't sure how I felt about that.
Tom shouted to be heard over the pouring rain hitting the porch roof of the public bathrooms we were all huddled under. “Obviously, this isn’t ideal for an outdoor shoot. We’re going to suspend filming until the rain subsides. At this point, even if it lets up in an hour, we won’t have enough light to finish the challenge, so we’re back here tomorrow. Everybody, enjoy your day off!”
A collective shout of joy went up from the group as we all dashed back to our cars with big umbrellas. I, for one, was looking forward to being back in the car with Austin. I couldn’t wrap my brain around his age. I’d always dated older men, so to even be interested in one so young had me discombobulated.
He was literally all wrong for me.
We sat in charged silence as the rain pitter-pattered on the metal roof of his car. The rest of the crew drove away and still we stayed. Staring into his eyes was like going down the rabbit hole; no rational thought could stay in my head to remind me why this was a bad idea. I could literally feel my brain turning to mush and my body taking over the reins, directing me right into Austin’s arms.
His hand crept over to my side, finding my thigh and squeezing. The sight of his big hand on my leg sent shivers up my spine. What could those hands do to the rest of me?
“Let’s go get some breakfast, huh?” Austin whispered finally.
I nodded, too afraid to open my mouth and speak lest I invite him straight to my room instead.
He started the car and drove, my gaze never leaving his face, or his broad chest in a black Henley, or his muscular thighs in his dark wash jeans worn down in all the right spots, or his hand on my leg. With my finger I traced a vein from the back of his hand, over his wrist, and up his arm until it disappeared into his sleeve pushed up to just below his elbow. I wanted to see where it went without the damn shirt in the way.
“Elle...” My name, a deep rumble from his chest, was the most delicious thing I’d ever heard.
“Austin,” I whispered back, my finger abandoning his vein and playing with the fine hairs on his arm, fascinated with the different color of his skin and the way his hands were rough on the fingertips and knuckles.
“How about room service?” He looked over, one eyebrow raised, a desperate hope showing in his eyes, a mirror to what I felt inside.
I hung there on the precipice, debating, deliberating, and finally realizing that the choice was already made. I’d go anywhere with Austin. I hoped it was just an itch I needed to scratch, and once I did, I could move on and get him out from under my skin. There was no other outcome. This thing between us came with a built-in expiration date. When filming ended, I went back to my life on the East Coast, and he was staying here in California. That thought pushed me to speak, wanting to take advantage of the time we had left.
“Yeah, that sounds perfect.�
�� A smile crept onto my face and wouldn’t leave the entire rest of the way to the hotel. He’d already had an effect on me, spreading smiles like the norovirus in winter.
When we pulled into the hotel parking lot, he spoke again, his voice low, almost like he thought speaking too much or too loudly would break some kind of spell I was under. Little did he know I wanted this as badly as he did.
“My room?” he whispered.
I nodded and grabbed my purse, silencing my phone. I stepped out of the car and walked to the hotel without a backward glance, knowing he’d follow. Every inch of me wanted to be next to him, pressed up against his side, letting his warmth envelop me while the rain steamed off of us. But that would be career suicide to be seen together in that way and I wasn’t that far gone. I’d never be that far gone.
Team FieryCox would remain a secret.
I choked back a giggle. This was insane. He was insane. And in just a little bit, we’d be insane together.
The elevator ride to Austin’s room on the fifth floor was straight torture with us two feet apart and vibrating with sexual need. An old lady got on the elevator and gave us a weird look as she exited two floors down from Austin’s room. I understood her look. You could have cut the tension with a knife.
Austin fumbled in his pocket for his room card key, flashing it quickly when we reached his door and getting the damn thing open before practically pushing me inside. His room looked just like mine, except far neater with nothing left out on the desk or dresser. The bed wasn’t made yet as housekeeping hadn’t come around that early in the day.
That was the last cataloguing of his room I got before Austin’s hands were in my hair and his mouth was on mine. The kiss was desperate, our lips and teeth trying to devour the other before this moment disappeared. My hands ripped his shirt out of the waistline of his jeans, climbing up his back and feeling that expanse of muscle and warm skin.
He made a noise in the back of his throat and then his hands were gone from my hair, spinning me around and yanking on the zipper to my dress. He slid the wide straps over my shoulders and the dress fell to the floor in a heap at my feet.
“Hmm...” His appreciative groan torqued the fire in my core higher. The last time he’d seen me like this was the first day I’d met him. I was having a much different reaction today. I wanted him to see every inch of me.
He dropped down to his knees and I gasped, not understanding what he was doing. Then his hands slid down my thighs, over my calves, and to my feet. His thick fingers worked on the tiny buckles of my wedges until he got them off my feet and threw them somewhere over his shoulder.
He glided a rough palm over my thigh and then pressed a kiss there before continuing on the other thigh. My stomach was next, tightening with his ministrations, finding the brush of his beard especially sensitive there. He stood up fully, towering over me without my heels to overstate my height.
As much as I loved him touching me, I wanted to do the same to him. We’d already been in this scenario once before with me barely dressed and him fully clothed. This time, I wanted to see him. Yanking his T-shirt up, he took over for me and pulled it over his head and threw it by my shoes.
Finally.
I got to ogle his chest openly. Heat pooled low in my stomach as I saw just how big Austin was up close and personal. His chest was massive, a fine sprinkling of hair leading down to blocks of abdominal muscles I traced with my finger. My touch caused goose bumps to rise on his skin, heightening my own desire. Austin had gone still, so I kept going, dragging my fingers down the patch of hair that dropped out of sight into the waistband of his jeans.
I popped the button and slid the zipper down, already feeling a bulge straining to be freed from its confines. Now that I’d taken my foot off the brake, I wanted to push on the gas pedal, so I dipped my hand into his boxers and found more than a handful waiting for me. His cock was long and hard and hot, my fingers unable to meet when I wrapped my hand around it.
He made a strangled noise above me, his hand closing around mine and holding me still.
“Wait,” he rasped.
He pushed his jeans and boxers down, stepping out of them, but still, I didn’t let go. I finally had my hands on the gear stick and I was ready to go full speed ahead.
10
Austin
She was squeezing the life out of me and I didn’t know if I liked it or if I was going to die from the pressure. I was learning there was nothing mediocre about Elle. She was either hot or cold. Ice or fire. And thankfully, she was an inferno of flames in my arms right now, gripping my cock like it was the lifeline she’d been waiting for.
I walked her backward toward my bed, following her down when the back of her legs hit the bed and she tumbled back. Pulling her hand from my cock, I extended both her arms above her head where they wouldn’t keep grabbing me and threatening to end this thing much earlier than I had any intention of.
Now I had her under me, at my mercy, her eyes glazed over. Her white teeth bit into her lower lip and I wanted to tug it free and claim those lips as mine now. I’d been daydreaming about those lips from the second I saw her picture online before Taste Test started filming.
Instead, I explored, flicking open her bra to free the most gorgeous breasts I’d ever had the pleasure to see. Lucky me, I’d get to touch them and taste them too.
“Don’t move those hands.”
Her eyes narrowed at my command, but she obeyed. “Quite bossy for a young thing,” she whispered back.
I smirked, enjoying that even now, with her hands above her head and my face between her breasts, she could throw sass at me with such confidence. “Just you wait, I haven’t even started yet, old lady.”
She sucked in a deep breath, her breasts rising, like they were offering themselves up to me. I accepted their lovely invitation and took one beaded nipple in my mouth, my tongue, lips, and teeth feasting on her body until she was writhing underneath me, her mouth blessedly silent.
Elle’s hands pushed hard on my chest, popping her nipple out of my mouth with a loud pop as I jerked back. She hooked her thumbs in the sides of her thong, wiggling them down her legs. I finished the job for her and then grabbed behind her knees, dragging her abruptly to the edge of the bed. Her legs had nowhere to rest except for on my shoulders as I knelt by the bed.
I dipped my head and inhaled her scent, my hot breath coaxing a long, strangled moan out of her. Then I went to work, eating out my chef like she was the day’s special. I’d skipped ahead to dessert, finding her everything I’d dreamed of and more. She started shouting words I didn’t recognize, Spanish phrases my buddy Marcos had never used. All I cared about was bringing her pleasure over and over again before she left my bed. And if the hands yanking on my hair were any measure, I was succeeding.
Her thighs contracted around my head, holding me to her center, my fingers inside her and my tongue lapping her up. I could feel her convulsing from the inside, an experience I would commit to memory forever. When her legs flopped to the sides, boneless and spent, I climbed back up her body, claiming those red lips again, making sure they remembered me, their new owner. No, wait, I had that backward. They were the master, while I was merely an unworthy worshipper.
“Vamos a joder,” she whispered against my mouth.
I stilled, translating and trying to respond in kind. “No. Hagamos el amor.”
Her eyes flew open and she stared at me, her defenses struggling to relent. We wouldn’t be fucking as she suggested. This would be making love. The difference was everything. I tilted my hips, the tip of my cock dragging through her folds and making those eyes flutter with want. It was a shameless play for her agreement. I wasn’t too proud to blackmail.
She nodded, which was probably the only green light I could hope for. I leaned away from her and felt around the floor for my duffle bag. Thankfully, I’d had the foresight to bring a package of condoms on this trip. I thanked my young, optimistic self and grabbed one, ripping it open and rolling
it on as quickly as I could.
As soon as that was taken care of, I settled back between Elle’s thighs. I nuzzled against her neck and looked her in the eye. “Are you sure?” I asked like the biggest dumbass on earth.
“Rule number one, Austin.” She smiled coyly and I nearly came on the spot. Fuck yes, I’d trust my chef. I’d trust her to receive my cock and the pounding it was about to give her.
I slid inside, inch by agonizing inch, giving her time to adjust, even though my legs were shaking from having to hold back. She was a foot shorter than me and tiny. I didn’t mean to brag, but Chris Pine said it best when he admitted he was above average. When she lifted her hips, I took that as permission to thrust. And thrust I did.
Repeatedly.
Until she was bucking under me and thrashing her head back and forth on my comforter. Her eyes squeezed shut and she screamed my name. I memorized the way she looked with a sheen of sweat covering her perfect skin, cheeks flushed, hair a wild mess, and her face a mask of ecstasy that I alone had given her.
One last thrust and I was following after her, the pleasure clearing my brain and locking every muscle into a charley horse of epic proportions. I collapsed on top of her, aware I was probably crushing her, but unable to do anything about it just then.
A poke to my side had the room coming back to me, my awareness creeping in after the best orgasm I’d ever had.
“Can’t breathe down here, Cox-man,” Elle teased me.
I smiled into her hair and lifted up onto my elbows, my arms bracketing her face. “Told you Team FieryCox was a winner.”
She rolled her eyes and I rolled off her lush body. A quick trip to the bathroom and I was back, pleased to see her under the sheets, hogging my pillow. For a second there, I was afraid she’d dart back to her room the minute I turned my back.
I slid in next to her and moved her over, tucking her into my side and running my hands over her hip, unable to stop touching her. It was a bit surreal to see her naked in my bed, her pristine lipstick gone, smudged by my own mouth. I liked the look of those red painted lips, but I was also finding her naked lips appealing, knowing I was one of only a handful to see her that way.
