The Wright Mistake(95)

“Even though I was present for shit, I only remember those things through a haze of alcohol. Like Sutton’s wedding. One of the most important days of her life, and I don’t have a recollection of anything past the ceremony.”

“That has to be hard.”

“I knew it would feel like this. Or at least, I was warned about it. But it’s one thing to talk about it in rehab and another thing to experience it in person. Just something I have to live with.”

“At least you’re making an effort to make new memories. Sober memories.”

“Yeah, I feel like I wasted most of the last ten years. I don’t want to miss anything else.”

I tilted my head up to meet his dark eyes. There was remorse there. True remorse. What I’d seen from him in the last two days wasn’t an act. Of course, I hadn’t thought it was. But seeing him torn up like this showed me how much he’d really changed. For him to even think about all the experiences he’d missed out on because of alcohol was self-reflective in a way that the old Austin never would have come to terms with.

“I’m so glad you’re here with me,” I whispered. My lips hovered an inch from his.

“Me, too.” His eyes darted to my lips and then back up. “You know something?”

“What’s that?” I whispered, aching for a kiss.

“I love you.”

My heart stopped, and butterflies erupted in my stomach. “You do?”

He nodded. “Should have told you that a long time ago.”

“Well, you know something?”

“No. What?” he asked, brushing his nose against mine.

“I love you, too.”

No other words had to be spoken. We’d both been holding that in for so long, neither willing to really dig into our feelings, that it was as if a dam had broken.

Austin and I cleared the distance between us at the same time. Our kiss was full of the love we’d been denying. His lips were soft and inviting. His tongue promised all the dirty things my mind drifted to with him this close. His hands roamed over my tight bodysuit.

He leaned me backward on the couch, covering my body with his. I wrapped one leg around his waist. Our hips pressed tightly together, and heat rushed through me.

“Fuck,” I groaned as he started to circle his hips in place against me.

All coherent thoughts fled my mind. There was just the feel of him against me and the desire to be in a hell of a lot less clothes.

One hand slid down the side of my suit and then reached around to grab my ass. He broke off the kiss to trail his mouth down my neck and across my collarbone. I could feel him, thick and ready for me, through his jeans. I couldn’t help myself as I pressed my pelvis up. He pushed back, sliding his dick against the thin material covering my body.

“How the hell do I get this off?” he asked. He slipped his hands up and down my sides, hoping to find an easy way to get me out of this suit.

I laughed and tossed my head back in exasperation. “This is the worst outfit ever for this.”

“It’s hot as fuck, but I’ll cut it off if I have to.”

Austin gripped my arm when I offered it to him, and he pulled me up off the couch. I dragged him into my bedroom and showed him the tiny zipper in the back. He tugged it down. He whistled softly through his teeth when the zipper rounded over my ass.

“Julia,” he groaned.

His lips touched the base of my neck and then slowly worked down my back, vertebra by vertebra. Then, he kissed my tailbone and lower. His hands splayed over my ass cheeks as he thoroughly kissed each of them.

I tugged my arms out of the sleeves of the suit in my haste to be naked. He helped me drag it the rest of the way down my body until it was in a crumpled pile on my floor.

He turned me back around to face him. “I missed everything about you while I was gone. But this body…” He shuddered. “You are my undoing.”

His thumbs brushed against my nipples until they hardened into points. Then, he took one in his mouth, sucking on it, until I writhed beneath his touch, and when I was purring in his grip, he moved to the other one.

“We’re…we’re going to have to get you out of that shirt,” I muttered, trembling from his touch.

My eyes dropped on that Captain America shirt. It showed off those biceps and that chest. But, fuck, I couldn’t wait until it was off.

“I…I think I didn’t get you the right size anyway.”

He laughed. “It’s a bit tight.”

“Um…yep.”

“Guess I’m not a Captain America guy after all.” He stripped the shirt off over his head.

And then…yes. I trailed my nails down his pecs, down those abs, and to that V. Then, I hastily removed his remaining clothes and saw all my other favorite parts of him that I loved to run my hands down.