Page 17 of Austin

“What is your style?” His strong, lean body presses against mine.

If I wasn’t so damn mad, I might notice the way his heart is beating wildly out of his chest or how his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, hard. But I’m mad, so I don’t notice any of those things … at all.

Oh, who the fuck am I kidding?

There’s an overwhelming sensation arousing through my body, one that is pulling me toward him, eager for the connection.

I can feel him. Not just his body, but also his energy. He’s like the engine of his Camaro, vibrating within me. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I can feel his thoughts, and they’re magnetic.

When my eyes meet his, the intense pull of those blue orbs bore into mine. His pupils are wide and dark, as if he feels it, too. It’s enough to make me lose my breath.

I try to fight it, but it’s like my hands have a mind of their own when they rise and skim his chest, feeling the sculpted muscles beneath his shirt. His body jolts at the contact, and that only makes me want to travel down the front of his body, feeling every ridge.

I make my way down to his waist to the defined abs he’s concealing with his clothes—way too many clothes.

His hands are strong and callous yet one moves softly from my cheek to under my chin, slightly lifting my face. Our lips align as his other hand wraps around my waist, bringing my body into his.

I feel drunk, dazed, as I breathe in the intoxicating scent of Austin Sexton.

Where is that damn angel from before? I shouldn’t be here. This shouldn’t be happening.

I need to stop this, yet all I can think about is what those lips might feel like when pressed against mine. I grip the sides of his waist and pull him those few extra centimeters toward me, desperate to get as close to him as possible.

He must feel the need as well because he laces his fingers through my hair, holding me even tighter. Our mouths are so close; I can feel his hot breath on my lips.

An electrical current soars through my body when his lips crash into mine.

It’s fiery and passionate. His thumb runs circles on my cheek. It’s a sweet gesture to match his visceral kisses.

I’ve never been kissed like this.

Taken like this.

Owned like this.

Austin pulls back and leans his forehead against mine. We’re still holding on to one another as we try to catch our ragged breaths.

“You like to live on the wild side, don’t you?” he asks.

I can’t help but laugh despite my shallow gasps. I’m rewarded with a gorgeous grin that makes my stomach flutter. I run a thumb over his lips needing to feel them one more time.

Last night, I didn’t know his name, but now, I feel like my world just exploded.

“What was a girl like you doing at a street race last night with a dirtbag like Beckett?” he whispers.

And, just like that, the moment is broken.

Anger radiates up my spine as I push Austin away. “Go to hell.”

If the lighting was better, I might have seen a flash of hurt on his face. Whatever that reaction was, it quickly morphs into that cocky, arrogant stance that he wears so well.

He doesn’t fight back as he falls to the other side of the closet.

“Looks like I’ve found your weakness,” he says.

“And I’ve found yours,” I counter, glaring at him.

His mouth drops, and his eyes widen as he looks back at me with concern. I decide to put him at ease—kind of.