When I reach her face, pressing a kiss against her jaw, her eyes flutter open. I push her hair back and thumb away the remnants of tears running down her temples. “Can I take the cuffs off?”
It takes her a second, but she nods hesitantly.
“If you want to keep them on for a little bit longer, you can. I can take them off in five minutes instead.”
She seems to consider this, but then, “Off, please.”
The cuffs are off and she’s in my lap a few moments later, practically deadweight. The cum in my pants is drying uncomfortably around my pubes, but it’s the least important thing happening right now. She shivers, tucking her head against my neck.
“You did so well, Austin. I’m so fucking proud of you,” I whisper, combing my fingers through her hair to untangle it. The other arm bands around her waist, holding her tight.
It’s late. There’s a million and one things I need to get up early to handle tomorrow morning, but nothing is more important than the realization that I lied to Mama earlier.
Jameson’s gonna have to take over the ranch.
At least for tomorrow.
THIRTY-NINE
AUSTIN
The pointof consciousness between being asleep and waking up is one of my favorite parts of the day. I try to draw it out as much as I possibly can, stretching under the blankets and burrowing myself closer to Maddox. I always pretend I do it in my sleep, but I’m aware enough to know I’m being a clingy little bastard. I’m just too happy to make myself stop. These few minutes in this limbo state are the only minutes I give myself to love him.
His shoulder shakes beneath my head as he chuckles quietly, his fingers massaging my hair as he kisses it. I hate when he kisses my hair because I can’t feel his mustache against my skin, but I’m not willing to tilt my chin up for a real kiss and show him just how awake I actually am.
Instead, I tilt my face down further until I can smell the faint traces of his deodorant and underneath that, his natural scent. I would never, ever, in a million years admit it to him, or anyone else, but he smells so goddamn good to me. Not his deodorant or his aftershave or the cologne he only pulls out when he takes me on a date. Nope, his natural scent. The one I tuck my nose against his shoulder to get a whiff of. I refuse to let myself even consider that it’s his armpit I’m smelling.
“How are you feeling?” he asks. His voice is gruff from sleep and I ignore him. Maybe he’ll think I’m still sleeping and let me huff away at his B.O. without forcing me totalk.
In truth, my shoulders are sore. Not bad, but enough that I know I’ll remember being cuffed to Maddox’s bed every time I move today. Enough that I know he’ll want to know.
Nothing else immediately jumps out at me, and after a quick mental inventory of my body, I realize I’m not even sticky between my thighs so he must’ve wiped me clean after I passed out last night. Slightly embarrassing, but sweet of him.
He sighs, tugging me on top of him completely. He’s in briefs, I realize distantly. He must’ve changed out of his sweats at some point last night. His morning wood pokes me and normally, I’d roll my hips to tease him and make him growl at me, but I’m not up for it today.
“Fine,” I answer him when he grips my chin and forces me to look at him. His sleep-soft face is one of my favorite sights and it’s rare that I get to see it. He’s usually awake hours before me, sliding back into bed after the sun comes up when I sleep over. “My shoulders are a little bit sore, but not really bad.”
He hums, thumbing over my lip. “What about that pretty pussy of yours? I gave it a helluva workout last night. Does it need some extra TLC today to recover?”
I scoff at him, but he waits patiently. I thought it was a rhetorical question. “It isn’t sore.” I purposefully don’t answer the question about TLC. If he wants to ply my pussy with special attention, I sure as shit won’t stop him.
My phone, however, apparently will.
It vibrates on the nightstand and Maddox groans, releasing my chin to flop back against the pillow. “It’s my sister. She’s been blowing up your phone all morning.”
“All morning? What time is it?” On the very rare occasion Maddox and I wake up around about the same time, it’s just before dawn when he has to leave to handle chores. A quick glance at my phone tells me it’s way, way past dawn.
“Shit!” I scramble off his chest and he grunts when I accidentally knee him in the abs. He’s lucky it’s not his dick. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I’m so late.”
“You’re not late to anything important. It’s just breakfast with my sister,” he grumbles, clearly not appreciative of me leaving his bed.
“You went through my phone?”
He winces at the shrillness of my voice and I can’t blame him. It was downright banshee-sounding, but he deserves it.
“No, I saw my sister’s name light up your phone screen so I texted her from my phone that you were still sleeping. She told me you had brunch plans and I told her to leave you alone.”
Maddox says it like it’s no big deal. Like it’s just a bit of sibling banter.
