when he found nothing but the Tenant Association

when he found nothing but the Tenant Association

newsletter, but he turned to me with a grin anyway.

"Looks like they're planning another barbecue. If it's

anything like last year's the beer wil be warm and the food

cold."

"I wasn't here last year," I reminded as he crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the trash.

"But you'l be here this year, right?" he asked as we both

headed for the elevator. "How's your head, by the way?"

"Oh…I'l be fine. I'm just tired." The lie slipped easily

enough off my tongue, and though Eric gave me a curious

look he didn't press me about it.

When the doors opened on his floor he hesitated before

stepping off, and I wondered if he'd meant to kiss me or

shake my hand. "I'l cal you, okay?"

I nodded and smiled and watched the doors close behind

him before I let the smile slide from my face. My jaw

ached from clenching it. When I got into my apartment I

ran a cold shower and let the icy needles pound my skin

until envy swirled down the drain around my toes.

I blamed the tears on the sting on my scalp as I yanked a

comb through my hair, but when I looked in the mirror I

couldn't avoid my frown. So I turned from the mirror and

puled on a lightweight summer nightgown over my bare,

damp and chily skin.

Jealousy and the funnel cake rested heavy in my stomach,

so I boiled water for tea. The headache I'd made up

became real, though I nipped it quickly with ibuprofen. I

grabbed up the novel I was reading and had just settled on

my sofa when the knock came at the front door.

Expecting Eric, I didn't bother looking through the

peephole. So when I saw Austin framed in the doorway,

al I could do at first was stare. Then I took a step back to

let him in.

His mouth was on mine before either of us said a word.

My book fel to the floor in a flutter of pages, and I kicked

it to the side as Austin stepped me back toward the couch.

I put my hands up between us and pushed him away

before he could get me there.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I swiped the back of

my hand across my lips, smearing the taste of him.

my hand across my lips, smearing the taste of him.

Austin licked his mouth and swalowed, his gaze flicking

around the room. "Is he here?"

"You're lucky he's not. You can't just come in here and

attack me like that."

Austin scraped a hand over the top of his hair, then

cupped the back of his neck briefly, his head bent. He

closed his eyes, brow furrowed. I stepped back when he

opened them.

"He's not here," I said. "But you should go."

He shook his head.

"Austin," I whispered. "You need to go."

Again, he shook his head. Only an arm's span held us

apart, but it might as wel have been a mile. My nightgown

swirled around my knees as I turned. I was very aware of

the pul of cotton on my skin. The lingerie Eric had sent me

had reminded me of how it felt to be desirable, but under

Austin's eyes I didn't need something outside me to know

how it felt for him to want me.

"Paige. Please." His voice snagged, rough and broke.

"Let's stop pretending—"

"I'm not pretending anything." I crossed my arms but kept

my back toward him.

Slow, roling cramps clutched at my bely. When we were

married, Austin had put me to bed with a heating pad

when my cramps were bad. He'd rubbed my back, too,

and gone at night to get me ice cream, no matter how late.

"He's not your boyfriend. Is he? That guy?"

"Is Kira your girlfriend?" I turned on him then.

"Hel, no."

"Are you fucking her?" I advanced a step to poke his

chest, and Austin retreated a step.

"No!"

I laid my hand flat on his chest over the steady thumping of

his heart. I had to tip my head to look at his face. " Did you fuck her?"

He shook his head, just once. I pinched his nipple only half

as hard as I wanted to. He didn't wince, though his tongue

crept out along his lower lip, leaving it glistening. The bead

of flesh pebbled between my fingers, and I roled the pad

of my thumb over his shirt, so soft with the nipple so tight

and hard beneath.

"Did you fuck her?" I repeated softly.

"I didn't fuck her, Paige. I swear it."

He groaned when I pinched his nipple again. When I slid

my hand under his shirt to find his bare skin Austin didn't

stop me. I hadn't expected him to.

My breath hitched at the feeling of his skin under my palm.

I curved my fingers to let my nails bite into him for a

second, then dropped it to his belt buckle. I tugged it hard

enough to move his hips, then let him go.

I stepped back. "He's not my boyfriend. But that doesn't

mean you can just keep coming over here and expecting

me to let you in my bed."

He puled his shirt off over his head and dropped it to the

floor. I'd traced those ribs with my teeth and lips and

floor. I'd traced those ribs with my teeth and lips and

tongue. I knew the holow of that bely and the taste of his

skin. I knew the heat of him.

He put his hand to his belt and undid the buckle. Then the

button. When he notched the zipper down one tooth at a

time, I bit my lower lip. When he shoved the denim over

his hips and down the thighs I'd spent hours nibbling, my

headache disappeared.

He stepped out of his jeans and pushed his socks off, too,

along with his briefs, and stood naked in front of me.

Austin was proud of his body and had a right to be. He

wasn't fuly hard, and I remembered the times I'd taken

him in my mouth to get him erect.

"Fucking won't change things," I warned him. Austin

shrugged and moved toward me, but I held up a hand to

stop him. "No."

He frowned and made as though to speak, but again I

stopped him. My voice surprised me, husky and low and

utterly, without-a-doubt, in charge.

"Go to my bedroom, Austin."

He took a hesitant step, then another, while I stayed stil.

He watched me bend to lift his jeans, the long denim legs

dangling while I yanked the belt from the loops. Austin's

eyes grew wide when I wrapped the leather around one

palm.

"Paige, what the hel?"

"Go to my bedroom," I repeated and puled the leather

tight between my two fists. "Get on my bed, on your

knees, facing the headboard. Put your hand on it and wait

for me."

I'd known this man for half my life. I'd seen him take hits

on the footbal field and stand up for me in a bar brawl. I'd

seen him cuss out men on the construction site who

weren't puling their weight, and I'd listened to him share

rowdy, dirty jokes with his friends. He'd balked at cooking

and laundry because those were "girls' work" and we'd

had screaming fits about separate checking accounts when

we were married because "women whose husbands took

care of them right didn't need their own money." I knew he

would never let me tel him what to do.

I didn't know him as wel as I thought I did.

I didn't know him as wel as I thought I did.

Chapter 30

Austin, without another word, turned and went to my

bedroom. I heard the creak of the headboard when he

grabbed it and of the mattress as he shifted his weight.

Then, silence but for the sound of my heart beating fast in

my ears and my breath trying to get unstuck from my

throat.

I hadn't wasted money on frily decorative pilows for my

bed, and I'd covered it with the worn quilt my grandma

had made for me when I was born. The headboard of

slatted wood had seen me through childhood and high

school, and I'd taken it from my mom's house to the

apartment I'd lived in after leaving Austin. We'd fucked in

my bed but had never shared it. My hands had gripped the

wood where his now clenched, but his never had.

He turned his head when I came in, then looked back at

the wal. His head bent, shoulders hunching, and I admired

the play of muscles in his back and thighs. His feet dipped

furrows in my bedspread as he pushed down with his toes.

I had to lean in the doorway to keep from going to my

knees at the sight. My fingers gripped the wood as the

knees at the sight. My fingers gripped the wood as the

cool metal of his belt buckle bit into my palm hard enough

to hurt. The sting of it pushed my blood faster through my

veins. The leather dangled, brushing my calf.

When I slapped it lightly against my palm, Austin tensed

but didn't take his hands away. He didn't look at me. The

muscles in his back and ass went tight, then released, and I

drew in a slow, silent breath.

Austin stayed in the place I had told him to stay. This man

could put me up against the wal with one hand. He could

break me, but he wasn't doing what I told him to do

because he wasn't able to say no. He wasn't afraid of me.

He trusted me.

That trust almost broke me more than his hands ever had.

It turned me upside down and inside out; it filed me up so

I couldn't imagine ever having been empty. I stood in the