How could he joke at a time like this? She turned to face him. “Everyone in the world with a computer has seen Logan’s sex tape.”
He smiled at her. “Would you want to watch me screw someone?”
For a split second she stared at him as her dumbfounded brain replayed his shocking words. Then fury struck like lightening, snapping her restraint. Her hand snaked out. A loud smack echoed.
A split-second later she recoiled. Shaking. Her palm was stinging like fuck. And the stunned look on his face shocked her more than if he’d physically hit her back.
She’d slapped him.
She forgot to breathe. Or blink. She just stared at his reddened cheek, at his widened eyes.
It hadn’t been a conscious decision—it had just happened—she’d lost control.
Embarrassment tumbled over her. She was so ashamed. And she so needed to get the hell away from him. But before she could run he wrapped his arm around her waist. Tightly.
“Nic—”
“I’m sorry,” she blurted, half turned away from him. “I’ve never lost self-control like that before. Never hit anyone. I’m sorry.”
She’d been worried about him. Because she cared about him. And then he walked in all nonchalant and made that flippant—foul—remark? It hurt so bad.
He could hurt her. Worse than anything.
And that was freaking horrendous. She had to get away from him. Now.
“It wasn’t much of a hit” he said easily, turning her so she stood completely his arms, his eyes watchful. “Barely a slap. Hardly tickled.”
“It was out of control.” She was out of control. Her feelings for him were beyond her grip. And it had hurt—that red mark on his cheek was proof.
“There’s nothing wrong with being out of control.” He offered a gentle smile.
She couldn’t cope with that tease. With what was between them being nothing but tease. Not anymore. Because it wasn’t that for her anymore. It was too much.
“Violence? Anger? That’s not okay,” she argued. And the way her heart was bursting out of her ribcage right now was definitely not okay.
“There’s nothing wrong with feeling powerful emotions,” he replied quietly.
She wouldn’t look at him. Couldn’t. She screwed her eyes tight shut.
“You insist you’re not a spoilt brat, so stop acting like one now,” he muttered. “You want grown up passion Nicoletta? Then you need to embrace it.”
“I don’t want that kind of…” She shivered, repelled at what he’d suggested. To watch him? She was so damn jealous at just the mention of it.
But he shook her gently until she looked up at him. And she saw that while teasing laughter had lit his eyes very green, underneath something else glowed. Something tender.
“Nikki honey, I didn’t mean watch me screw someone else.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Austin drew her into the elevator, then walked her to his room, beyond caring if anyone saw them leave together. Right now he just needed to reassure her. He unlocked his door and waited. It was only once she stood in the center of his room, her hands locked together, that he clarified it for her.
“I meant watch me, with you,” he said softly.
The color mounted in her cheeks and she still wouldn’t look in him the eyes. “I’m not making a tape. Or taking photos.”
“I would never ask you to put yourself at risk that way.” He took her hands and untangled her locked fingers, smoothing them out between his palms. “I don’t want a facsimile. I want the real thing.”
His pulse thundered—adrenalin still surged through his muscles from the shock of her intense reaction. And his desire for her right now? He couldn’t be harder.
He was outrageously pleased that she’d been so angry at the thought of him being with someone else. That wasn’t envy. That was jealousy. She didn’t want someone else having what she had—she wanted him all to herself. And that was because she cared.
His heart soared.
Now he just had to get her to admit it. Accept it. And then they could figure out how the hell they were going to make it work.
He led her to the bathroom, flicked the heater on full so she wouldn’t shiver for any reason other than what he was doing to her.
“Austin—”
“I’m a little cold, a lot tired… I need you right now,” he said simply. Honestly. “And I want to show you how beautiful you are to me.” He positioned her in front of the vanity—and the large mirror that hung above it. Mirrors covered almost all the walls in the sleek bathroom so they could see both the front of her and the back of him. Every hot angle in fact. He met her gaze in the reflection. “I know you’re going to like it. And I get off so good when you like it.”
Her eyes widened, but then that agony shone through. “I’m sorry,” she muttered.
“It’s okay.” He put his hands on her shoulders, stilling her when she shook her head to argue again. “I’m sorry you misunderstood me.”
He loosened her plait, loving another chance to release her beautiful hair.
“You’re so damn gorgeous,” he muttered.
She stood frozen. Was she still shocked by her own behavior? That was okay—he’d help her figure it out.
“We’re only human,” he said, taking the hem of her tee and tugging it up. She lifted her arms to help him. He drew breath when he saw the pretty bra she had on. Her nipples were tight and clearly visible through the fine lace. He reached around her slim body to cup those breasts in his hands. Hell she was gorgeous.
She closed her eyes as he stroked her.
“No, watch,” he whispered in her ear. “Watch what I do to you. See what you do to me.”
She opened her eyes again, watching as he ran his hands over her breasts and down her body. He unfastened her jeans and pushed them down together with her panties. Then he moved slightly to the side, quickly stripping. He yanked a condom from the drawer of the vanity, sheathing himself quickly. He didn’t want to have to stop once he started properly.
He saw her touch her tongue to her lips, saw the color in her cheeks, the way she was gripping the bathroom vanity as she waited.
He returned to his position just behind her. He loved the way she couldn’t resist moving against him. No way could he mess around with foreplay now. He just needed to be locked in her tight, wet heat. And she needed him hard and strong, supporting her from within.
They needed the most basic connection.
He gripped her hips hard and pushed deep. Sighed in blissful agony. “We do this so well.”
She groaned, so needy, but he paused, savoring it.
“Move. Please,” she asked him.
“Look in the mirror first. Watch me. Watch yourself.”
Nicoletta couldn’t, all she could do was feel. It was so good it hurt. That uncontrollable emotion swirled through her—she’d been worried for him. She’d missed him. She wanted this more than just for now…
“Nicoletta…” he warned her.
In answer she moved, leaning down to rest her arms on the vanity, grinding her ass back against him so he slid deeper still inside her.
But he tugged her hair so she had to lift her chin and stare up at him in the mirror. “If you want more, then look.”
She looked. Bent forward like this meant she could see his abs, his chest—his tight nipples, the sheen of sweat gleaming over him and the way he rolled his pelvis against her.
“You like what you see?” he taunted softly.
She did. He was tall and lean and she loved the way he locked perfectly inside her. The way he moved in just the right way to send her crazy—withdrawing, then surging forward. All tease. All promise. Now she wanted the power. “Austin…”
“Look how flushed you are,” he muttered hotly, sliding one hand around her hip to tease her clit. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you look when you’re about to come? Look at yourself.”
But now she couldn’t look away from that intensity in his eyes.
She was locked between his fingers and his cock and he was fucking her over with both. But it was more than just fucking… She was transfixed—in his sights, in his embrace. She gazed into his eyes. She couldn’t look away.
And suddenly he was silenced too—just gazing right back at her, moving slowly to tease, inexorably pushing her toward the release they both craved.
As he moved quicker, he pulled her closer, curling around her. Holding her like he’d never let her go. And even though she knew that wasn’t the case, she didn’t want him to. She never wanted him to let her go.
Their eyes were locked on their reflections, their bodies gliding slick and fast. Her lips parted but she couldn’t speak. Only animalistic pleasure sounded.
“Nikki,” he breathed, his eyes wild and green and intense.
She loved the way he shortened her name the way no one else did—making it his.
“Come with me Nikki.”
She couldn’t stop herself even if she’d wanted to.
“Shower,” he mumbled, picking her up and taking her into the stall with him. Slowly he soaped her, then let the water rinse over them. Then he carried her to the bed and picked up where he’d left off.
This time they came together face to face in silent but complete communication.
It was then that Nicoletta knew she was seriously in trouble.