“What are you doing?” Polly asked as the apartment door clicked shut. “What do Bowen and Sera have to do with our plan?”
He released a shhh against her mouth. Which should have triggered her knee slamming into his nuts, but sent a ribbon of lust twirling in her stomach instead. As if he could sense the exact location of her chemical reaction, his thumb pressed two inches below her belly button. “You need to relax.”
“Excuse me?”
Austin made a humming noise. “When you answered the door, your shoulders were up near your ears, sweet. I don’t like seeing you overwrought.” He leaned back to run calculating eyes over her form, an invisible motor churning in his gorgeous head. Seeing everything.
When his thumb left her belly to grasp her hip, turning her toward the wall, Polly protested. “Come on. What—”
She broke off on a moan when his thumb found the small of her back, an inch to the right of her spine, massaging with pressure so perfect in its accuracy, it made her sway. Even his chuckle didn’t score her pride enough to order him to stop. Shit. How had he known exactly where to touch? Stupid question. This was Austin. Her tension had grown throughout the day. Over him. Over Reitman. His thumb moved to the left side of her spine, giving the new area his singular brand of treatment. “There now. That’s better.”
“I h-hate you.”
He made a sound of disappointment. “Here I am trying to make you well and you’re taking shots at me.” She could hear his audible swallow behind her. “Apologies don’t come easy to me, but I’m harboring a fair bit of regret over this morning. You deserved…holding. There will be holding next time, Polly.”
When his words struck their target, a target shaped suspiciously like a heart, she scrambled to compensate for the fear that realization instilled. He was admitting he made a mistake, and for Austin, that was tantamount to a moonlight serenade delivered on bended knee. Did she want him to feel enough for her that he would learn new tricks, such as apologies? “I never said I needed holding from you.”
“I’m well aware. But the fact remains that holding is in your future. By me.” His big palm dropped to her bottom, and Polly’s frown eased into a smirk. Thank God. He’d made the moment sexual, so she could end it. Figure out what these inconvenient feelings meant later, when he wasn’t there to overwhelm.
But then…oh God. His thumb dug into the flesh of her right cheek and endorphins rushed through her veins with the effect of a hallucinogen. “Oh Lord. What are you even doing to me?”
Another dark male chuckle, this one more strained than the last. “Your ass muscles are sore because they flex when I bang you.” His breath fanned her neck, and she felt it everywhere. Her nipples. The insides of her thighs. “That little flex gives you the qualities of being adorable and fuck-hot at the same time. The adorable half made me feel goddamn lecherous when I took you from behind this morning. Why do you think I needed to come so fast?”
Polly pressed her forehead against the wall, chewing her bottom lip to trap the moan of his name dying to break free. “Is that why?” she managed instead.
“Yes. Although I suspect there will be a different reason each time.” He transferred the massage to the opposite side. “Your ass is already so tight. I can’t even contemplate what a few more weeks of fucking each other will do to it. You’ll be illegal, Polly.”
“You’re pretty confident…in how the next few weeks will be spent.”
“I can’t imagine why that would be, sweet. I’m only massaging your bottom in a public hallway.” His mouth traced down her neck, before it opened and…French-kissed the space below her ear. There was no other description for the passionate movement of his lips and tongue. He may as well have been performing the kiss between her legs because—holy God—wetness rushed and gathered with such swiftness, she couldn’t find the wherewithal to draw breath. “When you opened the door,” he murmured, his hand still working the flesh of her backside, “were you thinking of sucking my cock?”
“Yes,” Polly gasped. “And you knew it. Happy?”
“Quite,” he growled. His touch moved, wedging between her stomach and the wall, before dipping lower to capture the juncture of her thighs in a firm hold. “Any time you want it, all you have to do is bat your eyes at me. I’m a slave to you and this *. I don’t know how to make it any clearer…” He shoved his mouth against her ear in an unexpected move that made her gasp. “Mistress.”