Page 57 of Breaking All The Rules
Her hand tightened around his neck and she whimpered. “Austin…you don’t have to… It’s fine.”
He grinned. “I want to.”
“In that case—” She gasped and arched her back as Austin found the hard nub of her clitoris. “I doubt it’ll take long at all.”
“Then relax.” He swiped his tongue against the bony prominence behind her ear. “And allow me.”
She made an indistinct kind of noise before going boneless in his arms except for her top leg, which she abducted, resting it against his top thigh, opening herself wide for him. Austin took complete advantage of the invitation, sliding two fingers inside her tight, slick heat as his thumb worked her clit.
Her long, low moan was all the encouragement he needed, and soon, true to her word, she was panting and squirming and riding his hand, her ass against his rock-hard dick the sweetest kind of torture as his fingers rubbed and plundered. There was a drumbeat in his chest and a cyclonic roar inside his head and a furnace between their slicked-up bodies, and Austin felt like the Lord of Orgasms as she flew apart in his arms.
He reveled in the cries of ecstasy torn from her throat and the way she shuddered and the sharp sting of his scalp as she twisted her fingers into the hair at his nape. He felt fucking invincible as he stroked her until her leg flopped down and she begged him to stop.
Austin smiled, his lips nuzzling between her shoulder and neck. “And my work here is done.” He pressed a kiss to the spot as he eased his arms from around her and rolled onto his back. “I gotta go,” he told the ceiling.
He was going to be late. Arlo would be pissed. But with the long stretch of her naked back open to his view, Austin’s give-a-damn was temporarily busted. This sight was worth an ass-chewing from his boss any day.
“If I could move even one muscle, I’d try and stop you again.”
He chuckled, sliding his hand onto her shoulder and squeezing it one last time before kicking back the covers and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, because if he didn’t make a move, he’d be here all day, and he couldn’t leave all the bad-guy catching up to Arlo. “I’ll see you this afternoon after work.”
“Mmm,” she said sleepily as she snuggled on her side. Austin pulled the covers up over her, wishing like hell he could climb back in there with her. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered.
“Are made of cheese,” she replied in a drowsy voice, and he chuckled as he reached for the plastic curtain and dragged it open to locate his clothes, which still lay strewn on the floor.
Princess, who had decided his shirt was a good spot to curl up, meowed at him indignantly as he shooed her off it and grabbed it up. It was wrinkled and covered in cat hair, as were his pants, but they would have to do for now. He dressed quickly before locating his wallet, keys, phone, and hat—which would forever remind him of Beatrice going all cowgirl—all while the cat meowed and wound itself around Austin’s legs.
“Fine.” He shook his head at the insistent animal as he grabbed a can of what he knew to be a very expensive brand of cat food from the stash Mrs. Jennings had given him. “But if I get fired, I’m blaming you.”
He quickly dumped the fishy-smelling contents onto a saucer he found in the sink, leaving the open can by the saucer so Beatrice would know the cat had been fed. Austin crouched down and stroked along the cat’s back while she ate. “You might be the Princess around here, but she’s the mistress, you hear? You look after her, okay? Or I’m only going to buy you the cheap stuff when this runs out.”
Princess stopped eating and glanced up at him, regarding him with her one good eye before she meowed what Austin was fairly sure was her consent and went back to her breakfast.
With one more pat, Austin stood, casting a last look at a sleeping Beatrice, suddenly insanely jealous of a cat who would get to spend all day with her…
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Bea woke to a hot, sweaty scalp and the rumble of what sounded like a 747 engine but could possibly be her stomach. Or a cat, as it turned out, from the irate meow Princess bestowed on her when she sat up abruptly. The cat sent her a reproachful one-eyed glare from her position on Bea’s pillow, where she must have been curled around Bea’s head like one of those Russian fur hats.
“Oh, sorry, Your Highness,” Bea crooned with a smile, petting the sparse, tufty fur before picking Princess up, then lying back down with her, the mammoth animal sprawling on her chest as she stroked the cat some more. The rumbling resumed, the loud purr vibrating through her hand and the thick duvet right through to the wall of her chest.
Bea sighed. What a simply wonderful noise. She could get used to this.
Waking late to the purring of a cat—her cat—snuggling in bed for as long as she wanted. No breakfast meetings. No deadlines to make. No agenda, full stop.
And Austin all night.
Bea’s cheeks heated as she remembered last night in all its Technicolor glory. Austin kissing her and touching her, Austin hard and good inside her, making her pant and gasp and see freaking rainbows as she came. The perfection of Austin’s body and the deep vibration of his groan as he shuddered his release. The way he’d gathered her close as they’d fallen asleep—all three times.
But more than that. How they’d laughed and eaten popcorn and drank beer and watched zombies being killed as well as sitcom blooper reels on YouTube and clips of animals behaving badly. She’d never spent a night like that with a guy before. Not their first night together, anyway. In fact, she didn’t know if she’d ever achieved such a level of easy intimacy with any guy. And work had always been the oil that lubricated her relationships with men.
Hugging Princess, Bea rolled on her side and smiled. Maybe from now on she should make all her life decisions based on the throw of a dart, because this one, so far, was working out freaking great.
Princess protested the tight hold, and Bea loosened her grasp a little. “Sorry, kitty,” she murmured, kissing the patchy fur at her neck, shutting her eyes in sheer delight.
Too soon, though, nature called, and she stumbled out of bed, shoving her feet in her bunny slippers. Entering the bathroom, she did her business, then stared at herself in the vanity as she washed up. Bea liked what she saw very much. A copper-haired vixen who looked as if she’d been thoroughly ravaged, with a slight hickey just near one of her nipples and some stubble rash on her neck.
She was such a badass.
