But I don’t think about that. Instead, I let my eyes close as I snuggle back into his sleeping arms.
And I have no regrets.
29
Austin
Natalie sleeps in the next morning.
Which is awesome.
I catch myself watching her as the morning light trickles in through the doors to the terrace, watching the way her hair falls across her face, or the way her lips move in subtle ways, as if she’s whispering secrets in her sleep.
She shifts, stretching and repositioning as she slowly curls back against me. And I can’t tell if I want to roll my eyes at what a tool I’m being watching this girl sleep, or if I want to wake her up with my mouth on her pussy.
It’s a very confusing state of arousal.
And hell, I’ve been laid six ways ‘til Sunday, and it’s never been that good. Which is confusing, because she’s just one girl, and one that’s clearly using me as much as I’m using her.
And not in a bad way.
Cause that was fucking crazy last night. That was a goddamn connection, and I’ve never felt anything remotely close to that.
Like I said, it’s confusing.
She stumbles downstairs later, looking like a fucking goddess. Hair a mess, mascara smudges, and one of my old jerseys slipped over her body.
“Morning,” she mumbles sleepily, grinning this dopey smile as she saunters towards the coffee machine. I watch, totally fucking tongue-tied as she strolls past me, those long, smooth legs of hers disappearing under that jersey in such a tantalizing, teasing way that I can’t help but snag the edge of it as she walks by to see if she’s as nude underneath it as I hope.
Yup.
She giggles and slaps my hand away, moseying on towards the kitchen counter and flashing me another cock-throbbing peek of that ass as she reaches up for a mug.
I’ve never given a single shit about the morning after. I’ve never cared about saying the right thing or anything like that. And the types of girls I’ve brought home since becoming rich and famous get that, which suits me just fine.
So why the fuck am I tongue-tied this morning?
Why am I forcing myself not to go over there and kiss her against the kitchen counter, and tell her how fucking incredible last night was, and that I want to basically spend forever in bed with her.
“How’d you sleep?”
I roll my eyes as soon as the words come out of my mouth. Perfect point. Why the fuck did I say that? Why do I care how she slept? Like any other hookup, the only thing I should be asking is if she needs cab money or if she wants to bend over the couch and let me fuck her once more on the way out.
I wrinkle my nose.
I don’t want to be crude with her, and I don’t want her to go anywhere.
And then it’s all over. I’m moving towards her, coming up behind where she’s standing at the counter pouring coffee and pressing against her. I’m nipping my lips across the nape of her neck, and she sinks against me.
God, the smell of her, the heat of her body.
Where the hell did this come from? Where did the pull come from? I know damn well that I shouldn’t be kissing her fucking neck like this. I should be giving us space, and reminding myself that this is an arrangement.
She’s one girl, filling a need. Just like any other girl before in my life.
Course, it’s real hard to stick to that ‘giving us space’ thing when her head is leaning back against my chest, with the smell of her hair filling my nose.
Natalie turns in my arms, smiling wryly at me as she stands up on her tiptoes to kiss me.
Goddamn I could get used to this.
“Look, so, I’m going to need some money to go out today.”
The words hit like a fucking fist to the gut.
Every insecurity, every dark thought, every second guess I’ve ever had about a girl’s intentions when trying to get with me. Every single one of them comes roaring out the second those words leave her lips.
What was I thinking.
And right then, the rest of it drops away and I can see clearly.
I can see that this is like every other girl chasing fame and money and a free ride.
This girl’s been playing me from the start, and and here it is. Here’s the flip. She “got me,” finally. Married me, strung me along, gave me little teasing tastes along the way until last night.
And now comes the money.
God fucking damnit.
I hate how fucking textbook it is, and I especially hate myself that I didn’t see it coming.
Damn she’s good.
I hate that I got played.
Natalie’s brow furrows. “Austin.”
I look up at her sharply, feeling this edged, cold feeling lancing through me. “There it is,” I spit out, narrowing my eyes at her.
She raises a brow. “What?”
I smile thinly, taking a step away from her and folding my arms over my chest. “Just some spending money huh?”