Smiling, I nodded my head and swallowed back my apprehension. Austin and I had spent every single day together over the last couple of months, but we had yet to make love again. He came to every single appointment I’d had, stayed with me in the hospital, along with Levi, until I was released and sent back home to my parents, where he turned up every day and just stayed by my side, loving me.

Two weeks ago, I’d talked my parents into allowing me back to my sorority house, but this was the first time we’d truly been alone.

Pressing a kiss to the back of my hand, Austin let go and began walking to the bathroom, removing his jacket as he did.

He looked so beautiful dressed up, all fancy in his black suit, his dark hair and colorful tattoos looking sinful against the expensive cut of the material.

Austin glanced back, his stidda seeming less severe on his cheek, and he said, “I’m just grabbing a shower. I’ll be back soon.”

As soon as the door to the bathroom shut, I walked slowly to the mirror and, keeping my eyes downcast, counted to three.

One… two… three…

Snapping my eyes open, I stared at the girl before me and released a long, deep exhale. I took in her dark hair, slowly thickening up after the heavy loss her relapse caused. Her green eyes were rimmed with black and her lips were painted a dark, deep red.

You do not measure up, Lexington. You never will. We are never going to be good enough for him, never beautiful enough.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I let the voice say his piece. Then opening them again, I stared at the reflection and whispered, “Yes, you are. You are beautiful to him. He won’t reject you. You are beautiful, full stop.”

The voice faded into my subconscious, and I suddenly felt heat at my back and the smell of rainwater filled my nose. Looking in the reflection behind me, Austin was there, in only his boxers, looking beyond perfect and dark, only adoration in his eyes, and all my fears lifted.

Austin reached up and ran his finger down my cheek, nuzzling into the crook of my neck, and feathered kisses along my hot skin.

Closing my eyes, I reached around to the back of his thigh and pulled him closer, feeling his hardness press right against me.

“Austin…” I whispered and felt heat pool at my core.

“Pix…” he said, voice hoarse, and I turned in his arms. My palm flattened on his chest, and I lifted on my toes and softy kissed at the white dove tattoo on the underside of his throat.

Gripping the nape of my neck, Austin rolled his hips and groaned. “Fuck… Pix… I need you…”

Stepping back, I took Austin’s hand and led him to the huge king-sized bed. Austin was looking down at me in confusion, and I motioned for him to sit on the edge.

Doing as I asked, Austin sat on the side of the bed, and I ran my hand through his hair, his eyes rolling back at my touch. His reaction fuelled my courage.

When he reached out to hold my waist, I stepped back farther, and Austin tilted his head to the side. “Pix? What’s wrong?”

Unable to speak with the intensity of what I was about to do, I shook my head and reached for the back zipper of my dress. Austin’s eyes widened, and my gaze never left his.

Pulling the zipper down, I closed my eyes and, on a deep breath, let the loose, black material pool to the floor beneath me. I caught Austin sucking in a pained gasp, and as I opened my eyes again, he was gripping the sheets in his fists, staring at me in my bra and panties like he couldn’t resist, his hard length testing the material of his boxers.

Skirting my hands up to the front clasp of my bra, heart thundering in my chest, I slowly released my br**sts and dropped my bra to the floor. Feeling small and weak, I almost faltered in my action, until a frustrated moan slipped from Austin’s lips as he roved his hungry gaze down my nearly bare body.

I inhaled a sharp breath.

I wasn’t disgusting him… I was turning him on…

Hands shaking at the importance of the moment, I hooked my thumbs into the sides of my black panties and pushed them down my legs.

As I straightened, I looked Austin straight in the eyes, and tears filled his dark Italian gaze. “Pix…” he whispered and, reaching out for my hand, pulled me to his chest and ran his hand down the length of my chest and stomach. “You’re so f**kin’ beautiful,” he said in a raspy voice. “You, like this… perfection…”

Perfection… the goal I’d always strived to achieve.

Almost melting inside at his honest words, I replied, “I’m beautiful… with you…”

And then it hit me: I wasn’t afraid anymore with Austin. I wasn’t afraid of baring my fears, all my secrets… my soul… myself.




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