Page 79 of Falling Offsides

“Don’t think, Auguste,” I gasp, grinding down into his strong touch, eyes fluttering shut.

“Fuck, fuck…fuck it,” he mutters, fingers pressing against the soaked fabric of my panties. “So hot. So wet… fuckin’ perfect.”

Auguste strokes me. Like his kiss, slow at first. Then he pushes his finger beneath my underwear and teases my slit.

He’s right. I am wet—totally soaked for him. And as he spears his fingers inside me, he strokes faster. Rubbing at my walls with just the right force. Building me up, unraveling me…

“Look at you, Princess—” He leans back into the couch cushions, the hand at my waist moving me in time with the relentless thrust of his finger while he watches me come undone for him. “—wearing me like a goddamn glove. So damn tight.”

My hips jerk and my throat catches on a cry. “Oh—oh my God?—”

His words are the match to the gasoline pounding in my veins, coursing through my body,

Everything is so warm. Stifling. Scorching. My insides are allbunched together. Tight. Pushing me deeper into his fingers as he strokes faster. Fingers thrusting all the way tothatspot tightening. I’ve never… fuck… I’ve never felt anything this fucking good as he hooks his fingers and rubs. Thumb circling my clit hard and fast.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck…fuuuuck, Auguste.”

His breath hitches as I come apart in his arms, body shaking, hips trembling, my orgasm barreling through me, gushing from some hidden part of me that didn’t exist until now. Until him.

My slick thighs squeeze around his drenched hand with every last tremor of my orgasm before I collapse into his chest. And he holds me. The hand at my waist trails along the small of my back pressing him to me while his other hand—hisvery wethand—brushes my hair from my face.

Oh my christ. I don’t know what he just did to me. But it should be illegal because it takes me forever to gather my wits and sit up again onto his alsovery wetthighs.

I flush, mortified. “I—I’m sorry?—”

“Don’t.” His voice is rough, hard… and yet, reverent… awed. “Don’t you dare fucking apologize.”

He lifts his hand, licking his lips as he studies the fingers that were inside me moments ago.

A grin tugs at his mouth. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

My chest burns. Relief washing over me when he kisses the tip of my nose with a playful nip and stands, carrying me to the kitchen.

Dazed, all I can do is watch while Auguste cleans me up with a warm, damp cloth. He’s quiet and his touch gentle even though he’s all tense and pent up. Still when I reach for him, for the hem of his shirt he grabs my hands and holds them in my lap as his mouth presses to my temple. Only once, one kiss, before he tidies everything away and then disappears into the utility room with his sweatpants tented.

Auguste comes back with his hoodie bundled in his hands. Then he wraps it around me—warm from the dryer and smelling of him. I’m desperate for him to kiss me again—to feel his teeth gnaw at my lip and his hands sink into my flesh.

He doesn’t.

Auguste takes me back to the couch where he settles me on his lap, face buried in my messy hair while we go back to watching the movie.

I don’t make it past the end of the scene before I melt into him. Into his strong body and possessive hold.

The last thing I feel is the whisper of his lips tracing the scar on my head.

When I stir later, I’m tucked in bed. Samson curled by my head and a small note on the pillow next to him:

Call me if you need anything. Bx

I hug it tight to my chest burrowing deeper into his hoodie, inhaling his scent all the way into my lungs.

And my last thought is if maybe, just maybe… love is real.

SIXTEEN

AUGUSTE

The apartment is too damnquiet without Samson following me through to the bedroom. I sit on the edge of my bed, elbows braced on my knees, trying not to lose my shit because I can still smell Courtney on my skin.