“Your back.” She reached out a hand, then drew it back. “I didn’t know I was doing that. I…God, I made you bleed.”
“Polly.” He shook his head, wishing she’d laid that hand on him. Wanting to be touched after sex. Who knew? “It’s fine. It means you enjoyed me.”
Nothing about his statement appeared to comfort her. She sat up without bothering to shield her nude body, and Austin’s anatomy stirred, forcing him to adjust the weight pressing down on his length. Polly must have misinterpreted his wince, believing it had to do with her nail marks, because she made a small noise, her gaze running down his back, his ass. “Does it hurt where I used the belt?”
If he said no, would the moment be over? Having this tenuous bond broken so soon made him anxious. The cool, dark air of the hotel room enfolded them, somehow making them as close as they’d been with their bodies joined. Normal people held each other after sex, but they weren’t normal people. They weren’t afterglow people. Still, old habits died hard, and Austin’s gut told him how to achieve what he wanted. And what he wanted was Polly touching him, in any way.
“It doesn’t not hurt,” he murmured. “I suppose.”
A handful of silent seconds slipped by while Austin held his breath. As if in a trance, she ran gentle fingers over his backside, tracing lines he imagined the belt had left behind. His eyelids fell like stones when she began to knead the sore flesh…caring for him. Austin was so overcome with the unfamiliar sensation of contentment, he didn’t realize she’d moved closer until he felt her applying pressure to the wounds on his back with soft fabric. Pressing, pulling away, pressing. When her lips replaced the fabric, Austin’s eyes flew back open, the organ in his chest attempting to smash free of his rib cage. He didn’t dare move as she kissed each and every scar on his back, still massaging him beneath the small of his back. Her breath drifted over the trail her kisses left behind, making his stomach muscles seize. God, he wanted to rock his hips, wanted to drag his cock up and down on the bed, but what if she stopped? He’d die if she stopped because of something he did.
“How can I hate these marks so much when I left the same ones?” Polly’s soft voice cut through the darkness, a single finger trailing down the center of his ass, forcing Austin to stifle a groan. “And how can I see these red lines and want to put them there again tomorrow?”
Someone up there loves me. Austin lifted his upper half off the bed, twisting to face her. The uncertainty arranging her features made him want to reach out, cup the back of her neck. Something he pictured a lover doing. He opened his mouth to reassure her, then realized for once he had no answers. “I asked you for it, Polly. We both needed something and took it. That’s a sentiment we both recognize, isn’t it?” He waited for her slow nod. “In this room, let’s forget what happens outside and do only what we understand.”
Holy motherfuck, he was really putting himself out there, wasn’t he? Not something he typically did unless the outcome was a sure thing. Polly was the opposite of a sure thing. A gamble. One he really wanted to win, although he hadn’t a goddamn clue what he’d do with his prize. One day at a time. Or night, as it were. Perhaps if he wanted her to agree to see him again, he should behave in the manner that befitted a…suitor.
Good God. When had his brilliance turned to shambles?
For once in his life, Austin didn’t think. He reached for Polly and laid her down lengthways among the rumpled comforter, attempting to situate her in a comfortable manner, no idea if his actions were strange or necessary. It just seemed to him that since he wanted her to stay and be comfortable, he should see to it. When he was satisfied that she wasn’t going to launch herself from the bed, he took his place across the pillows. Going on impulse, he reached behind her and drew his fingers up and down her spine, striving for nonchalance when she sighed with enjoyment.
“Okay,” she husked. “Just in this room.”
Austin blew out a slow breath and attempted to ease closer without her noticing. “Don’t think for a while,” he said.
She yawned. “You either.” Oh, he’d thought Polly in a skirt was his kryptonite? Sleepy, sated Polly had just taken the motherfucking lead. “We’ll talk about everything when we wake up,” she murmured.
Austin made a sound of agreement, already knowing he wouldn’t let the conversation happen.
Chapter Eleven