Page 201 of My Real Love Affair

So why in the hell was I longing for his presence? I missed his scent. His occasional burst of laughter when Joey and Chandler did something ridiculous. When I learned he had never seen the series, it made me giddy. I couldn’t wait to share it with him. I wanted to see it for the first time through his eyes.

The knocking startled me so badly I nearly dropped my mug. Hard, insistent knocking. Not the casual tap of a neighbor or delivery person. “What the hell?”

I set my tea down and went to the door, peering through the peephole.

Austin.

He looked disheveled. His hair was a mess. His eyes had that look I had come to learn meant he was stressed or angry. Even through the distorted lens, I could see the tension in his shoulders, the tight set of his jaw.

My heart lurched. Something was obviously wrong.

I opened the door, and he didn’t wait for an invitation. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. I had the sudden thought he was hiding from someone. Was he on the run?

No, that was ridiculous.

“Austin, what?—”

He crashed into me.

His hands cupped my face and his mouth found mine in a kiss that stole my breath. It wasn’t gentle or tentative. It was fierce, frantic, like he was drowning and I was air. I could feel the urgency. I didn’t understand what had happened to make him feel so desperate, but oddly enough, I understood it.

I knew I should push him back. Demand answers about Summer and everything else. But the moment his lips touched mine, something inside me broke open. I didn’t care about any of that. I needed him.

I kissed him back with equal desperation, my hands reaching up and pulling his face against mine. All the questions could wait. Right now, I just needed to feel.

He walked me backward until my spine hit the wall, never breaking the kiss. His body pressed against mine. One hand slid into my hair while the other gripped my hip, pulling me closer.

“Melody,” he breathed against my lips.

“I know,” I whispered, not even sure what I was acknowledging. I just knew I needed this. His hands found the hem of my sleep shirt and pulled it over my head in one smoothmotion. I hadn’t bothered with a bra. Why would I? It was just me and tea and my couch.

And now him.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, his voice rough.

I reached for his shirt, fumbling with buttons that suddenly seemed impossibly complicated. He helped me, shrugging out of it and tossing it aside, and then we were skin to skin and I couldn’t think about anything except the feel of him.

His mouth found my neck, my collarbone, the curve of my shoulder. Each kiss felt like he was marking me as his. Claiming me.

And I was perfectly okay with that.

He pulled back just long enough to shove his jeans and boxer briefs down. I watched him kick them off, my pulse jumping in my throat. Then he was back, lowering himself over me again.

His mouth closed over my breast. My fingers dug into his shoulders. He groaned against my skin, the vibration shooting straight through me. Then he was moving lower, kissing down my stomach, his stubble rasping over my sensitive skin until I shivered.

He settled between my thighs and pressed a kiss to the inside of my knee, then higher, and higher, until his breath ghosted over where I ached most.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, locking his gaze to mine. “Let me take care of you.”

The first slow swipe of his tongue made my hips buck. He hummed, licked again—long, deliberate strokes that turned my muscles liquid. My head fell back, a moan tearing from my throat when he circled my clit, teasing until I was writhing.

I let out a long, languid groan. He answered by sliding a finger inside me, curling just right while his tongue kept that perfect rhythm.

Tension coiled tighter, my heels digging into the couch as he added another finger, pumping slowly, worshipping me with his mouth until bright sparks flashed behind my eyes.

Heat surged, overwhelming and bright. I clenched around him, crying out as the orgasm ripped through me. He stayed right there, drawing it out until I trembled. I tugged weakly at his hair because I couldn’t take any more.

He kissed his way back up my body, pausing to taste the hollow beneath my ear. “Still okay?” he whispered.