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  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

  doorway watching him give himself to me for whatever I

  wanted, and the leather slid through my suddenly slick fists

  with a sound like a whisper.

  My feet moved even though I couldn't feel the floor. When

  my knees hit the bed and I got up on it, the mattress

  my knees hit the bed and I got up on it, the mattress

  shifted. Austin gripped the headboard tighter, his head

  turning. I saw the flutter and shadow of the long lashes I'd

  always envied on his cheek.

  "Paige…"

  "Shh." I moved closer to kneel behind him, between his

  ankles.

  The cotton of my gown brushed his skin and I watched,

  fascinated, as gooseflesh broke out on his back. Again he

  bent his head. I could see his hands, the knuckles white. I

  couldn't see his cock until I moved a bit to the side, and

  then I bit my groan into silence so he wouldn't hear and

  know how much the sight of him erect aroused me.

  I had always been the one urging him to pin my wrists. Pul

  my hair. I had taken him down paths he folowed eagerly

  but only because I led him there. Now I folded his belt in

  half to make a loop of it, and I ran the flat side of it down

  his spine and over his ass.

  I folowed it with the flat of my hand and reached between

  his legs to weigh his bals before I ran my finger along his

  perineum, up the crack of his ass and onto his back again.

  Austin shivered at the touch, but didn't move. He didn't

  Austin shivered at the touch, but didn't move. He didn't

  speak.

  Looking at the leather against his skin, I drew in a smal sip

  of air. My world spun so much I had to clutch his

  shoulder. My nails dug into his skin, and Austin made a

  smal noise.

  I didn't want to hurt him. Not realy. I didn't want to beat

  him, or raise welts on his flesh. I wanted to colar and leash

  him. I wanted to own him.

  I tapped his ass with the strap, not hard enough to cal it a

  slap. "Spread your legs wider."

  His knees slid on my sheets and the headboard creaked.

  Austin leaned forward until his forehead rested against my

  pale green–painted wal. Those big shoulders hunched.

  Those big hands gripped. The muscles in his ass flexed.

  My hand found the familiar length and girth of his prick. I

  stroked him gently a few times before withdrawing. I drew

  a finger along his bals and ass crack again. I put a hand on

  the back of his thigh to feel the tension th