He grips my wrist, his thumb pressing against my pressure point and for a second, I think he’s going to lick it off, which would probably kill me with how hot it would be. But somehow, what he does is so much hotter. He slowly guides it to my mouth.
“Then lick it clean,” he says in a low tone, one I’ve never heard from him. One that has my dick hardening all over again.
Am I about to see a side of Austen I didn’t know existed? I sure fucking hope so.
I wrap my lips around my finger, stare into his wide blue eyes, and suck it clean—just like he wants.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Austen
I’ve never been much of a city boy, but there’s something undeniably perfect about NYC. But maybe my love of the city has more to do with who’s here, rather than what’s here.
I steal a glance at Cam as he walks beside me, his hands shoved in his jeans pockets. A smile graces my face for the hundredth time today. I can’t stop smiling, like some lovesick idiot.
Everything’s better with him. It was always better with him, I just didn’t understand why.
But I think I’m starting to.
The wind rustles my hair, making it go fucking everywhere. I run my hand through it, trying to tame it, and notice Cam’ssideways glance as we come to the middle of a bridge. We’ve managed to pack a ton of stuff in. It’s been one bucket list item after the other today. Times Square, Rockefeller Center, Madame Tussauds…
I think I spent so many years pretending I was happy that I forgot what it feels like tobehappy.
But I know that I’m happier with him.
I stop, leaning against the stone arch as I take in our surroundings. It’s peaceful here, in this little shadowy alcove of the park. Quiet. I could see myself here. Strolling through the park in the daytime, sketching ideas and sipping on coffee. Maybe even working on my laptop.
I bet it’s really pretty here in the spring.
Cam stops, taking his spot beside me. We both lean over the stone rail, the lights of the city like stars; so close but so far away at the same time.
“You should come with me,” I say, breaking the silence.
“Huh?”
I turn to look at him, the street lamps providing just enough light that I can make out his surprised expression.
“I could use a second opinion. Plus, you live here, so I’m sure you know more about these areas than I do.”
It’s true, I could use a second opinion, and there’s no one’s opinion I trust more than his. He knows me better than I know myself, and if his apartment is any indication of his taste, he knows a good thing when he sees it.
I watch as his expression softens, as he chews his lip.
“Unless, of course, you're busy…” I tense, worried I’ve overstepped; anxiety coming back like a boomerang.
You’re being needy again.
I hate that even now, when I feel so good, Savannah’s damn words rise up to strike me again.
Hate that she can poison me from so far away.
“No, it’s not that—” Cam says, shifting closer to me.
My body relaxes the moment his shoulder brushes against mine. I shift a little closer to him, falling into his space with ease, like my body subconsciously craves his touch.
It’s been like this all fucking day. I keep trying to resist the urge, but I can’t help myself. I keep expecting him to push me away, tell me I’m crowding him and that he needs space.
But he doesn’t.
