I swear I thought my inner voice was doing all the talking, but his dumbfounded expression lets me know I was wrong.
Shit. I can’t believe I said that aloud.
“It is. I’ve been told it’s pretty mind-blowing.”
Holt’s words are like a jolt.
An aphrodisiac.
A stimulant.
An intoxicating rush.
An inaudible “Yes, please” puffs from my lips.
His lopsided grin turns sly.
Darn inner voice.
“You want that?” he asks.
So it is a blatant invitation.
His voice is unapologetic and yet, a small part of me feels like he is toying with me. Playing me for a fool.
The fact remains this gorgeous strapping man causes parts of me I didn’t even know were dormant to roar back to life. Suddenly, I can think of nothing else than having said lonely parts caressed, touched and kissed. Something tells me Holt Christensen would do that really, really, really well. And as God is my witness, I want it all.
What to do? What to do?
There’s a war raging inside me. There’s a part of me that thinks I’m stir crazy—that’s the straight-laced voice talking—then there’s the newly acquired adventurous side—the renegade voice that thinks Holt would look pretty darn good naked in that tub.
“I’ve never done anything like that before,” I confess.
“Which part? Being tied or hooking up with a guy you barely know,” he reads my thoughts.
My heart pounds like a drum.
“Both.”
“Well, the handsome man in front of you would be more than happy to show you the ropes... pun very much intended.”
I laugh out loud and love the dichotomy in him—he’s one part sweet and one part dominant.
I weigh the risks against the rewards.
I throw caution to the wind. “I want that with you.” The words spill from my lips.
“What do you want exactly, Everly?”
I wave a nervous finger at him. “What you just said.”
“I want to hear it from you.”
“Clearly someone is playing hardball,” I retort.
His grin tells me that was the wrong choice of words.
“You know what I mean,” I add quickly.
“Here's what I know.” He allows for a short pause, as if he wants to make sure he has my undivided attention. “We can keep running around in circles or I can show you my mad skills. What will it be?”
“Tie me up,” I blurt out.
Speaking the words sends another hedonistic jolt throughout my body.
“Is that how a good girl asks for something?”
“Please. Tie me up, please.”
“Much better.” His tone is rough. “Looks like I’ll be sampling your goods earlier than I thought.”
I swallow hard. I still can’t believe I was willing to go there. “So it seems.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“Are you backing out?” I'm in no position to dare this guy.
“Not a chance. A gentleman always asks twice—”
“I’m sure.”
I don't think I've been this certain about anything in a very long time.
“My place is—”
With rushed hands, I open my clutch and rummage through it. “I—I have a luxury suite upstairs.” I pull the key card out and lift it at eye level.
My God, I’m nervous.
He cocks an eyebrow. “You’re well connected.”
“Another perk of saving a bar mitzvah,” I explain.
He grabs the key card from where it’s balanced between my fingers and slides it inside the inner pocket of his suit jacket. It's like it's happening in slow motion.
We both lift our gaze up at the same time. To the unsuspecting eye, we’re just two people engaged in a friendly debate. The frantic palpitation of my heart lets me know otherwise. After a few long beats, Holt reaches out for my hands. When he brings them to his lips and drops a soft kiss against them, I shiver inside.
“Do you need to let anyone know we’re together?”
His question takes me by surprise.
“What do you mean?”
“A backup?”
“Oh, yes, of course. Clearly, I don't do this very often. I should let my cousin Ainsley know.”
I pull out my iPhone, tap on the screen and step beside him.
“Smile for the camera,” I say.
He chuckles, but he's a good sport about it.
In fact, what was supposed to be one photo, turns into five hilarious minutes of me clicking away. Holt even grabs my phone and has a go at it. After our selfie session, I shoot Ainsley a quick text.
She’s going to freak out.
“I'm all yours,” I say with feign calmness as I tuck my phone back into my clutch.
“Music to my ears,” he grins. “Lead the way, precious.”
Dear God, I might not survive this night.
CHAPTER 13
Holt
This night will forever more be engraved in my memory. The last six years of sacrifice paid off big time tonight. The media was buzzing about my artists’ wins. Small record labels don't often dethrone more established ones. Mine did. Sure, I was going to stick around for a bit, but at the end of the night, I had planned on going back to an empty house, pouring myself a glass of whiskey and reliving the triumphant highlights. I came to the lounge for a short respite from overzealous reporters with a thousand questions. I was going to head back to the pressroom. I swear. The second she approached, my plans changed. I never expected her and I never expected she’d say yes to my bold proposal.
The small group of people on the elevator ride is a blessing. Had it only been the two of us, chances are, I would've devoured her well before we reached her suite. Since the crowd doesn't allow for intimacy, I pull out my phone and shoot a text to my publicity team and one to Mrs. Talbot to check up on Naomi. Everly pulls out her phone as well.
When the doors open on the penthouse floor, I interlace my hand into hers and pull her behind me. My jaw is so fucking tight and my cock is rock hard in my effort to act like a gentleman until we’re behind closed doors.
“Which way?” I ask.
“Down the hall and to the left,” she says.
With a rushed step, I guide her to her suite.
“That’s me,” she points to a door straight ahead.
I circle my arms around her shoulders and flip her around, forcing her to walk backward the rest of the way. When we reach the door, I place my hands on the doorframe by her head and step into her, invading her space.
“Chivalry might get kicked in the ass once I open the door,” I warn.
“I'm okay with that,” she says, raising her chin up.
“Good,” I nod.
I lower the key to the reader and it doesn't take much for the door to open. I push Everly inside the room, kick the door closed and drop the key on a table near the entrance. There’s no time to appreciate the swanky penthouse. For now, I’m only interested in one thing. I can’t think beyond my hard on and my need for her.
“Come here,” I repeat our earlier dance. I pull her tight against me before twisting us both around so her back is against a wall. I move in close, placing one hand above her head.
“Do you know how much I’ve been thinking about you since I left your bakery?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Every single night.”
Her breasts rise and fall with ragged breaths at my words.
“It’s the same for me,” she admits.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Do you want to know what’s been looping in my head?”
“What?”
My free hand lands on her neck. My finger grazes along the bare skin.
“I’ve imagined how soft your skin would feel under my touch.”
“Oh, gosh.”
“How your lips would feel on mine
.”
“You have?”
“I can't tell you how obsessed I am to find out how sweet they taste.”
“Holt,” she lets out in a soft whisper.
“Would it shock you if I told you I've also wondered which would be more intoxicating, your lower lips or the upper ones?”
She looks away, but I won't allow it.
I place two fingers underneath her chin and bring her attention back to me.
“I guess I should fess up,” I say.
“I think you've already done a pretty good job of that.”
“There's more.”
“I don't know if I can handle more.”
“I think you underestimate yourself,” I tell her. “I doubt tying you up will be enough for me.”
She knits her eyebrows together in confusion. “I don't understand.”
“I can't wait to feel you.”
“Oh.”
Those fucking luscious lips of hers.
“I need to sink my cock deep inside you to satiate this unreasonable desire I have for you, Everly.”
Her wide-eyed expression suggests she’s at a loss for words.
That does little to deter me.
I press my hips into her. “Tell me you’ll let me fuck you.”
“God, Holt… your words,” she pants.
“Was that a yes or a no, precious?”
She responds with a little small nod.
I tilt my head to the side and wait.
She closes her eyes.
I suspect she’s nervous. Too bad I'm unwilling to let it slide.
“No, eyes open.”
She obeys.
“I'm still waiting for an answer.”
“Yes,” she hisses.
“So you want me as much as I want you?”
“I think you being here spells it out.”
“I'm sure you must know by now I like to hear the words.”
“I want you too.”
“I like that answer.”
I bring my hand to her cheek. Softly, I travel to her mouth before brushing my thumb across her lips, smearing her scarlet red lipstick. I lower my head and drag my lips across her jaw, inhaling every note of her floral perfume. I trail down to her neck and the soft swell of her breast. Unrushed, I kiss my way down, biting the skin where it curves to her neck and causing her to utter a string of inaudible words.
“Let me taste those lips,” I say.
Caging her to the wall, both hands above her head, I lower my head and crush my lips against hers. Our tongues entwine in a dizzying dance. Unable to control myself, I press harder and she responds by moving her hands up to lock behind my head.
Everly tastes every bit as sweet as I knew she would.
“I’m so fucking hard for you,” I growl in her ear as I grind against her like a savage.
“I can’t think straight,” she says.
“That makes two of us. Bedroom?” I ask as my lips find her neck again.
“To the left,” she says in a husky voice.
Without warning, I fold my body and throw her over my shoulder. “Oh, my God, Holt,” she squeals. “You’re so freaking tall. From way up here, it’s like standing on top of a skyscraper. Don’t drop me.”
Slap.
“Ouch.”
“Stay still,” I scorn.
“Whoa, you’re taking this kink thing way too seriously.”
“You started it, donut dominatrix.”
She grunts with feigned exasperation. “Brute.”
“Keep it up. I don't have a problem spanking you all night long.”
“Oh, you wouldn't.”
“Try me.”
When I don't hear a retort from her, I resume my mission.
I eat up the rest of the way to the bedroom.
I drop her to her feet.
“See, no accidents and no broken bones. You're still in one piece.”
“I'm going to avoid saying anything that might unleash the impetuous dom in you.”
I embrace her in my arms. “I love your sense of humor.”
Feeling her curves pressed against me awakens my desire.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to devour every inch of your body.”
I pull her closer and crush her lips in a punishing kiss. It's soft and gentle at first, but quickly, I demand her mouth more forcefully. Our tongues flirt, dance and swirl wildly.
“You’re such an incredible kisser.” Her sultry intonation fuels me.
For the next few long minutes, I kiss her with unrestrained passion. She meets my fervor with as much intensity.
My hot little donut girl.
“I can’t remember the last time I’ve wanted someone this much,” I say.
“Are you just saying that?” She huffs a nervous laugh.
“I think I told you before. I don't make it a habit of lying to pretty girls. I mean every word I said.”
“A girl could lose her mind over your confession.” Her timbre is playful.
I smile. “There's something else I’d rather you lose.”
“What?”
I trail a slow and lingering finger from her chin to the middle of her breasts. “You’re so fucking beautiful, but I’m pretty sure you’ll look even better naked. Take it off,” I order.
“You have a way with words, rocker boy,” she flashes me a teasing smile.
“You have no idea. Now that we've established I'm a poet at heart, are you going to let me see what you're hiding underneath the suit?”
“I should warn you. I wasn’t expecting to end the night with a sexy bad boy. I don't know if the lingerie is up to snuff,” she says.
“I could be wrong, but it doesn't look like you're wearing your grandma’s underwear,” I tease.
“True, but black can be pretty basic.”
“Why don't you let me be the judge of that?”
She removes her double strand necklace first.
“Let me help you,” I reach out my hand.
“Well, thank you, sir,” she smiles, dropping the necklace inside my palm.
“Anything to get me closer to the prize.”
“I’m the prize?”
“Damn right you are.” I slip her necklace into the pocket of my jacket. “It’s safe here.”
She laughs and walks away from me.
“Will you give it back?”
“Only if you’re a good girl.”
“I see,” she says.
“I’m still waiting,” I wave a finger at her. “There are too many layers between me and my prize.”
“Of course. I apologize, Mr. Christensen.” Everly smiles mischievously.
She unbuttons her tuxedo jacket, turns around before I can catch a glimpse of her bra, slides it off her shoulders, walks to a bench at the foot of the bed and drops it with care. As much as it pains me to watch her flick off those sexy heels, I don't protest. I can't. They won't work for what I have in mind. She moves her attention to the last item of clothing. The way she wiggles out of those tapered cigarette pants is a work of art. Even though there’s nothing overtly sexual in her movement, she still oozes sensuality.
The moonlight illuminating the room shines bright on her luminous skin and allows me to catch the highlights of the show. When she folds back up and faces me with her closed wrists resting against her hips, my jaw drops. I should've known the glint in her eyes was a precursor to something naughty.
I blink a few times before my brain catches up and allows me to form a cohesive sentence.
“Holy Christ, Everly.”
Okay, not quite a sentence.
I take her all in, brushing my eyes up and down her sinful body and I find myself just staring at the perfection of this girl.
Wow.
I lock eyes with her and cock an eyebrow as if to say, Are you fucking kidding?
She doesn’t have to respond. Her wry smile suggests she knows exactly what effect she has on me.
Her arousing lingerie might induce my temperature to rise to da
ngerous levels. Scratch that. Not might. It already has. What she’s wearing is spank bank material for sure.
Her body isn’t adorned with any old black bra and panties.
No. If it were, I wouldn’t feel like my hardening cock is threatening to rip the zipper on my pants.
The cup of Everly’s bra is accentuated by a red lace floral appliqué. The panties received the same treatment, but the red lace sits on the side. The string running on each side of her waist is pure sin. The combo is naughty, but classy.
Mesmerized by her beauty, I close the gap between us. No way I can remain this far away from her.
“Fuck, you’re hot,” I grunt.
With my free hand, I travel down the front of her chest until I reach her magnificent tits. I rub the back of my knuckles against her hard nipples before pulling them through the fabric between my index and my middle finger, inducing a series of lustful gasps from her.
“You wore this for me, precious?”
“Technically, I didn't know I was going to bump into you.”
Cheeky baker.
“Semantics.”
“It was my cousin's idea,” she reveals. “She said with the tuxedo, I had to up my lingerie game.”
“Bless her and remind me to send her a very large bouquet of flowers.”
We both laugh.
I bring my hands to her back to unhook her lace bra, eager to release her tits. I throw it far enough so it lands on top of her tuxedo. When I take sight of her breasts, I swallow a moan. The most exquisite rosy areolas circle her tight suckable nipples as beautifully as a crown.
“These are perfect,” I marvel.
“I'm not a double D—”
In a city like LA, you never know what you're going to get. It's more than just a cliché. The reality is, in our industry, tits are often fake. Everly's aren’t enormous silicon melons, but they’re real. And more importantly, they’ll fit perfectly in the palm of my hands. What more could I ask for?
“Like I said, they’re perfect.”
She flashes a triumphant smile.
“Something tells me I might become addicted to sucking on these, but hey, I’m a betting man.”
That gets me a childish giggle.
I lower my head towards her chest, grabbing one of her tits and pushing it inside my mouth while groping the other possessively.
“Ohhh,” she exhales.
Torrid Rush: A Single Dad Romance (Bad Boy Studs Book 3) Page 10
