Losing Me, Finding You (25 page)

“Everything alright?” Gaine asks, setting his beer down and watching me with wary eyes. I stare at him and try to keep the anger off of my face. Mireya, I could handle. Amy … I was her first and her only, and I'm not ready to share her yet. I've got to get her out of my system first, just fuck her like crazy until this hold she has on me goes away. I try Kimmi's stupid sense thing, just in case.

Sight.
Well, obviously the woman is standing right in front of me looking fucking gorgeous as shit. I close my eyes for a brief second. When I do, I can see my body moving inside of hers, can picture her face as I spill my seed into her womb. I shiver and open my eyes real quick. I don't think either Gaine or Amy misses my raging hard-on. I stand there, unashamed. After all, it's her fault I've got the damn thing.

“Everything is fuckin' fine. How about your fine selves? What did you do today?”

Sound.
Amy's sweet voice speaks to me from inside my head and out of it, telling me that they had lunch, that they talked about that Goddamn badger again. In the back of my mind, I hear her calling my name, begging me not to stop. I shake my head.
Sex, sex, sex.
See, it's all sex. Just sex.

“And Austin?” she says, setting her beer down and sliding off her stool.

“Yeah?”

Amy leans into me, sliding her arms around my neck. I notice that my hands go straight to her hips and my grip tightens, pulling her even closer. She puts her lips to my ear and whispers.

“I've been thinking about you all day.”

Ah, fuck.

I grab her hair and pull her head back, pressing my mouth against hers.

Taste.
Well, Christ on a cracker. Amy tastes like … warmth, comfort,
home.
I tell myself that's the dumbest damn shit I've ever heard, but it doesn't matter because it's true.

Gaine grumbles something vulgar under his breath and moves away, leaving us alone in the lounge with nothing but a pair of empty beer bottles as spectators.

“Tell me why I shouldn't just throw you over one of these tables and fuck you?” I ask, breathing in the smell of Amy's hair and running my jaw along the silkiness of her scalp.

Scent.
Shampoo, flowers, and something else, something primal that isn't a product of soap or perfume or anything like that, just part of Amy. It makes my cock swell so much that I swear to God, my pants are about to burst open at the zipper.

“Because I'm not wearing a skirt?” she teases with a small wince. I grab her by the belt loops on her pants and start walking backwards, taking her along with me.

“That's a bad girl, Miss Cross. If you don't listen to your teacher, bad shit happens.”

“Oh?” she asks, pretty, little mouth in an 'O'. “Such as?”

“Such as I spank your impertinent little ass for disobeying me.” Her face flushes bright and her eyes flutter like she's surprised I just said that.

“Really?” Amy's voice is breathy, brushing against my skin and making me crazy for it. I let go of her pants and reach down, grabbing her behind the knees and around the waist, hoisting her up into my arms. I think folks in the lobby are staring, but they can go fuck themselves for all I give a shit.

“Yes, really,” I tell her, carrying her over to the elevator and stepping inside before the doors close. “I told ya the rules and you broke 'em. Time to pay up.”

“You're an interesting person, Austin Sparks,” she says suddenly, face going from lustful to compassionate in a quick instant. It freaks me out a bit, but not enough for me to put her down. It would take a whole lot of something to make me let go of this girl. “And a strong one, too.”
Aha.
There's a glint in her eye that says she feels sorry for me, that she hurts for me. There's only one damn thing that's ever happened to me that might spark a look like that.

“Shit,” I say, thinking I might've figured it out. “Did Gaine tell you about my brother?” She blinks at me in surprise and I know right away that I've got it. “That motherfucker,” I growl and Amy starts to struggle against me like she wants down. I tighten my grip.

“I'm sorry,” she whispers, eyes closed tight. “I shouldn't have pried into your past. It wasn't my business at all.” Already, I'm shaking my head.

“Beautiful, that bitch goes spouting off secrets wherever he goes. It was only a matter of time before he dished some dirt on me. Honestly, if that's
all
he told you then I'm in good shape.” My heart is pounding in my chest and I feel weak, like I can still see the look on my brother's bloody face when he fell to his knees in front of me. I don't tell Amy that though. I don't tell her that Gaine has
never
told anybody else that story without my permission. Either he's pissed at me over something or he thought Amy needed to know. I'm betting on the latter. “Don't think about it for another second, sugar.” I keep my voice light. One day maybe I can bury my face in her hair and tell her how much it hurts, how I never cried but how I fucking wanted to with every breath I took. I've never felt like that with anyone before. I swallow hard and step out into the hallway, catching sight of Mireya and Gaine at the end of it. Mireya's glaring, of course, but Gaine looks oddly pleased.
Crazy fuck. I'll deal with him later.

I don't say anything to them and they say nothing to me, watching as Amy and I move towards them and then disappear into our room. I kick the door closed behind me and sit down on the edge of the bed, giving Cross one last kiss before I flip her over.

Touch.
Amy's body is soft and round, curvy in all the right places, a perfect hourglass figure. When I touch her skin, it's smooth as silk, just like her hair. I figure this all goes back to sex, but then I think about how it feels when our hands brush against one another. It's like sticking your damn finger in an electrical socket.
Shit, Austin, let this crap go! Stop reminiscing like a little bitch and spank the girl.

She yelps when I spin her around and grab her pants roughly, yanking them down forcefully along with her panties.

“Austin,” she says, but she doesn't try to stop me, just lays there, nice and still, eagerness vibrating through her and into me.

“Tell me you're sorry for being a bad girl and not wearing a Goddamn skirt,” I say, letting the fullness of my cock and the round, shapely white moon of Amy's ass distract me from everything else. See, that's another thing about Amy. When I'm with her, I don't have to worry so much about Kent or Mireya or long dead memories. I can just be here with her. “Tell me you're sorry that I have to go through all this work to fuck you.”

“I'm sorry,” she whispers, voice slightly muffled. “I'm a bad girl, and I need to be punished.” She swallows. “Master.”

“Master?” A laugh bursts out of my throat and it is then and there that I decide I don't give a shit if I do fall in love with this girl. She's hot, kinky, and dirty, plus she can drink a shot of tequila straight. They don't come any better than this. “Never had a lady call me that before, but I like it. Say it again.” I pull my hand back and slap her ass hard enough that it cracks. Amy shivers.

“Master, please.” I spank her again, watching as the soft flesh on her ass jiggles enticingly. This isn't a trick I can keep up for too long. I feel like I'm about to burst in my pants at the sight of her bent over like this. I'm not gonna last long. I wish I had some damn handcuffs or whips or some shit, so I could really show her a good time. I think maybe about gettin' some in town tomorrow. As of now, it's just my body and hers. Guess I'll have to see what I can do.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” I whisper. “Explicitly.”

“I … I want you to finger me,” Amy says and then adds, “Master.”

“Are you sure you're a damn virgin?” I ask her as I slap her ass again, making sure to get it hard, so it stings nice and good.

“Not anymore, I'm not,” she whispers. Pauses. “Thanks to you.” Another pause. “Master.”

“Then where are you getting all this nasty talk, little Miss Amy?”

“I read a lot of books,” she whimpers when I smack her tight, little ass again.

“Shit,” I say, sticking two fingers between my lips and getting 'em nice and wet. “I always thought those things were trash. I rescind my judgment.” I plunge my hand inside of Amy's heat, feeling how tight and slippery she is for me. My fingers glide in and out smoothly, slicking up that space between her legs until it's soaked. “Tell me about one.” Amy groans and arches her back, but she can't move, not from the position I've got her in. Poor little Amy Cross is trapped.

“Now?”

“Right fucking now.” She moans as I pull my fingers out and touch them to her clit, rubbing it in slow, lazy circles while she writhes and slides the length of her body against the bulge in my jeans. “And make it a good one.”

“Glance Serone,” she says, and I don't like the way the name rolls off her tongue, like she's said it before in the throes of passion. He sounds like an old lover in those drippy, Southern syllables. Nice to see that Amy gets her roots back when she's being fucked, though. Not so easy to cull an accent when your whole body's on fire. “He … makes Sali give him a hand job on his motorcycle.”

“For shit?” I ask, teasing her by plunging my fingers in again and swirling them around until she moans so loud that she can't speak anymore. “And how does that work out for 'im?”

“They crash,” she says and a small chuckle escapes her, trailing off into a moan. Her body clenches tight around my hand, so tight I can hardly even move it anymore. Unable to control myself, I pull out and lift Amy up, tossing her belly down on the bed so that her ass is up in the air for me.

“Beg me for my seed, baby,” I growl at her, wondering if I've ever been this creative with a girl. Nah, I don't think so. Not even with Mireya Sawyer.

“Master, I want it,” Amy cries, wiggling around, trapped by the jeans that are still wrapped around her knees. Maybe next time, she'll remember to wear a skirt

“All over me. Say it.”

“Master, I want … ” She pauses as I whip my cock out and run my hand down it, using Amy's juices as lube. She takes a deep breath and stops wiggling for a moment. I watch as she struggles with something inside of herself – upbringing maybe, good Christian manners, whatever. Eventually, the passionate side of her wins out and makes me grin. “You to come all over me.” I jack myself off with quick, hard strokes, staring at Amy's ass and her dripping pussy, letting her hear me moaning her name while I watch her lie there, desperate and wanting. Just like I thought, I don't last long. And when I do orgasm, I spill myself all over her pale, white skin, letting it drip down her sides and cover her.
Mark her.

I shake my head to get rid of those primal thoughts and zip my pants back up. I'm a good Southern boy at heart, I really am, and good boys always help their lady friends clean up.

When Amy turns to look at me, I smile, expecting her skinny brows to wrinkle with anger, for her to come at me and throw herself into my arms with pounding fists and teasing lips. Instead she just smiles back and says simply, “Thank you, Master.”

Other.
Whether it's all about sex or not, something about Amy Cross calls to me, and I believe, really, really believe that I could fall head over heels for this girl.

Austin sneaks out again after our … goodness, I don't know what to call it … our session.
You called him Master,
I chastise myself, flushing neon red in the privacy of my soapy, bubbly shower. I blame the books, but maybe it was really just me. Maybe I'm just as perverted as my favorite fictional characters.
Perversion is just another form of art. It's like painting or drawing or sculpting. Except instead of paint, us perverts use sex as our medium.
Not Sali Bend this time, but her friend, Brandi Waters, who Sali inevitably corrupts and turns into a raging whore, just like everyone else in the book. Maybe I'm infected, too. Or maybe it was the way Austin tried to play off his brother's death, like he didn't care, like after all these years it was just another old scar like the one on his lip.

I can see right through him.

And I think he wants me to. Somewhere, deep down, I can see that Austin has yet to actually mourn the loss of his brother. It could've happened two years ago or five or ten, if he hasn't mourned, he's never really going to get over it. I wonder if I could help him with that. Sex might not quite do the trick, but if he ever does decide to let his guard down, I'll be waiting.

Then again, I don't know how much good that would do him because I can tell there's something else, too, something that has to do with Triple M as a whole. Top that with the issues that I can see circulating around certain members, and it's no wonder that Austin's gotten so lost. There are so many people and events going on around him that I think he's having trouble finding himself in all of it. Plus, there's
definitely
something going on with Mireya. If I hadn't gotten that message from her before, the death glare she'd thrown us in the hallway just now was an absolute.
She most certainly hates me and wants me dead.