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So, That Got Weird: A Painfully Awkward Love Story (So Far, So Good Book 1)

Page 19

by Amelia Kingston


  “Slow down.”

  She speeds up again.

  “Elizabeth!”

  It’s like I’m not even here.

  “Be a juvenile brat. Sulk in silence all you want, but I am serious. You need to slow. The. Fuck. Down.”

  She glances in the rearview mirror before slamming on the brakes, bringing us to a near complete stop before darting off the road. The shoulder strap digs into my chest and my hands shoot to the dashboard to brace myself.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I ask, pushing the words past my stomach, which is currently lodged in my throat.

  She shoves the truck into Park, turns off the ignition and throws the keys at me with a haughty, “Drive yourself home then.”

  I’m in such shock, the keys bounce off my chest and drop to the floorboards. I’m groping around for them stupidly when she jumps out of the truck. Playing catch-up, I chase after her.

  “Where the hell are you going?” I yell.

  “Anywhere but here!” she screams back, her voice cracking.

  “You can’t walk along a highway at night, Elizabeth.” My voice is sharp, but I’m more worried about her than I am pissed.

  “Leave me alone, Austin!” she shouts over her shoulder, but mercifully she stops walking when she gets about ten feet away.

  I slacken my stride, hoping she won’t take off again if I give her space. She’s got her back to me, but her silhouette shows her arms are crossed and her chin is pointed defiantly in the air. We’re engulfed by silence. The only sound I hear is the pounding of my heart.

  I rake my hands through my hair and let out an aggravated sigh. I’m standing on the side of a deserted highway at night with this crazy woman who won’t even talk to me.

  “Would you fucking say something? I’m not staying out here all night.”

  “No one is asking you to stay.”

  “Like hell I’m going to leave you stranded on the side of the road.”

  “I am not a child. I can find my own way home.”

  “Oh, yeah? Throwing a tantrum is really mature.”

  She turns abruptly, charging toward me with her arms flailing. Her eyes are wild and fiery. Hands raised and fingers curled, she’s a cat ready to claw my eyes out.

  “You have no right to judge me. Or my family. Who the hell do you think you are? You don’t know me. You don’t know how I grew up.”

  “It must have been so tough for you, having to decide which of your ponies to ride and all. Real torture.”

  She stops short, just outside of arm’s reach.

  “Screw you. You don’t have a monopoly on shitty childhoods. Do you know how many times I’ve heard my parents say I love you?”

  She pauses. I don’t answer.

  “Twice.” She holds up two fingers in my face. “My mother on the day she died. My father at her funeral. That’s it. In my whole. Fucking. Life!”

  Her body is physically shaking with rage, but tears gather in the corners of her eyes. I didn’t realize how broken she is. The urge to hold her is nearly overwhelming. I clench my fists to keep myself from trying to touch her.

  “Then fuck ’em,” I say with a shrug.

  “What?” She lets out a heaving sigh before turning away from me again.

  “Fuck. Them. They don’t want you? They don’t love you? Then fuck ’em. You don’t need ’em. You should be throwing up middle fingers till you sprain your wrist. Not smiling in the corner like a fucking idiot.”

  She scoffs.

  “You’re not a kid anymore, Elizabeth.” My voice gets softer. “You don’t need to waste your time trying to please those fuckers anymore.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have any family left to disappoint.”

  Fuck, that was harsh.

  She whips around to face me, slapping both hands across her mouth as her eyes go wide in terror. I stare at her in stunned silence.

  “Austin, I’m sorry. That was… I shouldn’t have said that.”

  She reaches out to me, but I’m too far away. Neither of us moves to get closer, so she drops her hands listlessly down to her sides.

  “Why not? It’s true. I don’t have a family. Never really did. And even I know that”—I point through the darkness back toward her house—“isn’t how a family should treat you.”

  She wraps her arms around her waist, hugging herself tightly, and drops her eyes to the ground for a few excruciating heartbeats. When she gazes up at me, the moonlight catches the glint of a tear rolling down her cheek.

  “I know.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re right, okay? I know my family are a bunch of assholes, Austin.” She brushes the tear off her cheek and stares out into the black night. “I hate it, the way they talk to me. How they’ll always see me. But they’re all I have.” Her voice is soft. Childlike. It breaks my heart because I get it. I was raised by disappointment and nurtured by neglect. I know deep down how it feels to love someone who can never love you back. How she’s survived by telling herself she doesn’t deserve better. But fuck that. She deserves the world.

  “I’m sorry.” My voice is awash with regret. I take a tentative step toward her, testing the waters. Her eyes snap to mine. They aren’t angry, they’re sad. A frown has replaced her scowl.

  “I don’t regret calling Cruella out on being an obnoxious twat, but I am sorry for what I said to you.” I take another small step closer. She doesn’t pull away. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just seeing them shit on you was driving me crazy…” There’s a hint of a smile on her lips. “I shouldn’t have gone off. I really am sorry. I guess seeing people I care about get shit on pisses me the fuck off.”

  “I guess so,” she quips with a half-smile as she takes a small step closer to me. “I’m sorry too. I might’ve overreacted a bit,” she says to the dirt as she kicks an imaginary rock. “With the whole brake-checking thing. You’ve got great brakes.”

  We share a quick chuckle before silence fills the shrinking space between us. I don’t know who reaches out first, but suddenly she’s in my arms and, however she got there, I’m grateful. I clutch her to my chest and gently kiss the top of her head. She squeezes my waist and buries her face against me with a relieved sigh.

  “Seriously, you should tell them all to fuck off. Especially Patricia. I hate that chick,” I hum into her ear.

  “I know.” She giggles into my chest. “I just can’t.”

  I hold her in the silent darkness. Something broken is healing. She lets out a contented moan and I take it as my cue.

  “Okay, let’s go.” I plant a kiss on her forehead and pull her along to the truck with an arm over her shoulder. “Now you get to help me find the damn keys.”

  She curls into my side as I pull back out onto the road. I slip my fingers in between hers, the connection somehow vital to surviving the night. We are quiet on the drive back, but I don’t mind the silence now.

  I’m tired enough when I pull up to Elizabeth’s building that I let the stupid valet take my keys. Elizabeth doesn’t bother asking me to come up. She doesn’t have to.

  She opens the door to her apartment and I guide us back toward her bedroom. She lets go of my hand and steps to the end of the bed. Keeping her eyes locked on mine, she slowly undresses. It’s intimate. She’s showing me all of herself. Standing completely bare in front of me, she says a single word.

  “Stay.”

  It’s part command and part plea.

  As if there’s anything in the world that could pull me away from her right now. I don’t answer with words. I peel off my clothes and toss them in a pile next to hers. She takes my hand as she climbs under the covers, pulling me down next to her. I curl into bed beside her and pull her dainty body against mine, holding on to this special woman as if my life depends on it.

  “I’ve got you, Goose.” I keep myself awake until I’m sure she’s asleep, wanting to know she feels safe.

  Holding Elizabeth is better than anything I’ve had
in a long time. It’s what I’ve always imagined coming home could be. I drift off to sleep to the music of her soft snoring.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Elizabeth

  Austin pulls away, the cool morning air replacing the warmth of his body next to me.

  It’s early.

  Really early.

  His alarm hasn’t even gone off yet. I’m half-asleep but awake enough to know I don’t want him to leave.

  He’s sitting on the edge of the bed when I grab his hard forearm and plead, “Stay.” My voice is thick with sleep. I’m not sure he hears me, much less understands. Luckily, the kung fu grip I have on his arm is less subtle. I’m not ready to let him go. I need a little bit more of him. I think I’m always going to need a little bit more.

  I might be addicted to Austin Jacobs.

  “I’ll be back,” he answers as he extricates himself from my clutches. He steps into the living room and I hear him talking to someone. I can’t tell what he says, but he’s crawling back in bed with me in a few minutes. As soon as he’s under the covers again, our bodies gravitate together like magnets. The sensation of his toned body engulfing mine is sublime.

  “You don’t have to go?” I ask timidly.

  “Nah. Playing hookie today. Go back to sleep.”

  I cling to this delectable moment, holding him tight. He’s on his back with his arms around me, my body curled into his side. The contact is not nearly enough. I let out an involuntary sigh, frustrated I’m not able to get close enough.

  Without thinking, I climb on top of him, straddling him. He lets out a soft groan as I settle my weight onto him. I lay my head on his chest and the sound of his steadfast heartbeat echoes in my ear. I hum contentedly.

  Austin lazily holds my waist with one hand and brushes my messy hair off my shoulder with the other. His fingertips tracing those figure eights across my naked back send a shiver through my body, making me rock my hips down against him. He gives me an appreciative moan.

  He’s hard.

  I don’t know if it’s because I’m naked on top of him or just because he’s a guy and it’s morning.

  Morning wood is a thing, right?

  I lift my head and gaze at the glorious hunk of naked man under me. A half-asleep Austin is a whole new experience. His face is softer, and yet somehow more serious. Genuine. Awake he’s always smiling, joking. Even when it’s an act, which I’m starting to think is more often than not. Lying underneath me, with his eyes closed, he looks innocent. Vulnerable.

  Thing number eight I love about Austin—when he lets his guard down.

  I’m naked on top of Austin Jacobs. I should be terrified, but I’m not. I’m not overthinking it or freaking out. I’m just enjoying him.

  I move my hands to either side of his head and slowly lower my lips down to meet the tip of his nose. Then, his forehead and each of his closed eyes. Finally, I press a slow, lazy kiss on his full lips.

  A morning kiss.

  A wake-up kiss.

  With my forehead pressed to his, our lips barely touching, I whisper, “Good morning, Maverick.”

  He opens his eyes and peers up at me. The corners of his mouth twist up in a tender smile.

  “Morning, Goose,” he answers, sliding his hand into my hair, angling me for another kiss.

  This one is deeper, more sensual. What started sweet turns heated when I hear a growl of desire from deep in Austin’s chest. It sparks a fire between my thighs. The air between us turns thick, heavy with need. I can’t wait another week.

  I want this.

  I want him. All of him.

  Now.

  I slip my hands into his hair and dip my tongue to taste his. I shift and center myself above his hard length. I sway my hips, brushing my core against his shaft, and let out a soft cry of pure ecstasy.

  Austin draws in a sharp breath and tightens his grip on my waist. I grind against him, feeling empowered.

  Feeling worshiped.

  Feeling like a goddess.

  I move my hands to his chest and I push myself upright. All I have to do is sink down.

  Austin’s eyes shoot open and he grabs my hips with both hands.

  “Easy, Goose. Those hips are writing checks your pussy can’t cash.” He’s wearing that taunting smirk on his lips, but his piercing blue eyes hold something more. There’s desire in them, but also a hint of concern.

  I swivel my hips, teasing him, showing him how ready I am.

  “I want this.” My voice is strong. I leave no doubt.

  “Are you sure?” His voice is apprehension warring with craving. “Last night—”

  I interrupt him. “This isn’t about last night. This is about me.”

  I try to press down onto him again, but the grip he has on my hips stops me. His expression is pained, as if it hurts to resist. Call me a masochist, but it turns me on knowing he can barely hold back.

  “Fuck,” he grunts, the word laced with lust.

  His eyes are locked on mine, searching for any doubt. He won’t find it.

  “I’m ready,” I tell him. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. I trust him completely, with all of me. With my body.

  With my heart.

  He looks around the room before admitting, “I don’t have a condom.” He slams his head against the headboard with a frustrated thud.

  “It’s fine. I’m on birth control,” I answer, aching for him.

  He hesitates. After a moment he stills and locks his eyes on mine.

  “I’ve never done it without a condom,” he confesses.

  “Me neither,” I quip with a coy smile. I’m rewarded with his mischievous grin. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but I’m a new woman. One who takes what she wants. And right now, I want Austin Jacobs.

  “Touché.” I watch the playfulness fade from his face, replaced by a gentle sincerity. “We’ll go slow. We can stop any time you want.”

  I bite my lip and nod, not trusting my voice.

  This is actually happening.

  His firm grip on my hips relaxes, letting me slowly lower myself onto him, inch by inch. He’s bigger than any toy I’ve ever used, but there’s no pain. Only a sense of fullness and connection when he’s finally seated deep inside me.

  I close my eyes and take a breath.

  So long, virginity.

  I try to focus on my body, on this feeling.

  Don’t freak out.

  Why did I think I could do this? Ride Austin, like it’s nothing new. Like I’ve done this a million times before. I haven’t. I’m not a new woman. I’m not a sexual goddess. I’m just me. And this is a big deal.

  It’s sex.

  With Austin. I’m petrified. Frozen. Fossilized.

  Am I doing this right?

  Should I be making more noise?

  Less noise?

  Should he be on top?

  Should we have waited?

  “I need you here with me, Goose.” Austin’s voice rings in my ears as he sits up, pulling my chest to his with one of his muscular arms. “Just be here, now.” He caresses my cheek and I lean into it while he peppers my neck with the softest kisses. “I’ve got you.” The sound of his voice anchors me to this moment, to him.

  I’m on top, but Austin has taken control. He lifts me by the waist, sliding out of me slowly. I rest my hands on his strong shoulders and follow the leisurely rhythm his hips set. With every stroke, pleasure builds in my core, coiling tighter and tighter like a spring under tension. “You’re so beautiful.” His breath is hot against my neck.

  His words are velvet caressing my worried mind, soothing my anxiety and stoking my lust. “I’ve wanted you since that first night.”

  I focus on his words as he plunges into me faster, driving me to the edge.

  “Since I saw you in nothing but my shirt. Do you know what you do to me?”

  I shake my head, unable to form actual words.

  “You drive me crazy,” he grunts. He sounds desperate, consumed. I dig my
fingers into his solid shoulders, reveling in the sensation of him. He captures my lips with his in a flood of devotion. He kisses me with everything he has, everything he is.

  I’ve never felt so close to someone, so connected. We’re moving together, breathing together, our hearts beating together.

  He presses his forehead to mine. “I want you to come apart for me.” So I do. He slides his deft hand between us, circling the most sensitive part of me in exactly the way I need. Pleasure explodes across my body, shooting out to the tips of my fingers and down through the ends of my toes.

  “Austin,” I cry out.

  He steals my breath with a kiss as I ride a wave of ecstasy, cradled in his arms. He clutches me tighter, pulling me into him, as if worried I might slip away, then comes apart right after me. We cling to each other, hearts racing and out of breath.

  “So, that was…” his sultry voice rumbles.

  My heart catches in my throat. Was it as amazing for him? He has to feel the connection. It’s palpable.

  “Exquisitely weird,” he finishes with a smirk.

  The spell is broken. My heart plummets, shattering into a million pieces.

  Weird.

  Of course, how else could he describe being with me?

  “You asshole,” I screech in his face as I shove him as hard as I can, desperate to get away before the tears start flowing. He doesn’t budge. Instead, he nimbly rolls us over, keeping our bodies intertwined, and pins me to the mattress.

  “Come on, Goose. It was just a joke.”

  “Get. Off. Me.” I glare up at him in furious contempt. I snake my arms between us and try to push him off. It’s no use, he’s solid as stone.

  “Not a chance. Not until you calm down.” He tries to lean down and kiss me, but I don’t let him. I jerk my head to the side hard enough to give myself whiplash. I fight desperately to keep the tears out of my eyes.

  “Hey, I didn’t mean it that way.” His voice is thoughtful. He’s earnest and remorseful, but I don’t care. It doesn’t stop the black hole churning in the pit of my stomach, sucking away every ounce of my self-confidence.

  “Goose,” he prods. I don’t react. I can’t look at him. I want him to leave and never come back. “Elizabeth,” he says my name sweetly, reverently. It’s too late. He can’t take it back. “I was teasing. I’m sorry.” He sighs and drops his head to my shoulder.

 

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