by HJ Bellus
“I have panic attacks. They hit me out of nowhere.”
“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” His hands run through her hair on repeat.
“I don’t deserve you, Dax.”
His hands cover the sides of her face and pry her up, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes remain downward and he waits in silence until she raises her gaze.
“It’s more like I don’t deserve you. We can’t do this back and forth or we’ll just spin our wheels. I want you in my life, period. Elephants could fly out of your ass and it wouldn’t change my mind. Do you hear me?”
A deep voice interrupts them. “Room service.”
“Come in,” Dax yells.
Holden startles at the volume of his voice. “Okay, but I don’t have elephants in my ass.” They laugh as a greasy man pushing a cart enters Holden’s side vision.
Three silver domed trays sit upon the cart, and the yellow-toothed servant smiles at the couple.
“Holden, I see you’re working your way around the hotel.”
Before she has a chance to speak or the server has the opportunity to laugh at his own joke, Holden is placed on the bed and Dax stands before the man, still only clothed in underwear. He towers over the greaseball. Holden almost feels sorry for the man, because she can guess what’s about to go down.
“Excuse me?” Dax glares down at the man. His fists are clenched and the tips of his ears are bright red from anger.
“Sorry, I…uh, just work with her and was giving her a hard time.”
“So you were joking with her?” Dax’s finger sits mere inches from the man’s nose.
“Yes.”
His finger goes straight up in the air and begins to wave back and forth. “You see, when I joke with a co-worker, it’s usually a knock knock joke or something corny. Ring a bell?”
The man cowers under Dax’s stare as he tries to nod in agreement.
“Talk to or even look at Holden ever again, and I’ll break your fucking neck with my bare hands. Understand me?”
He nods again, but this time his complexion turns pale.
“I didn’t fucking hear you.” Dax stares the weasel down until he hears the words he wants.
“Yes. Yes, sir.”
The man turns away, pulling the wrong end of his cart to avoiding stepping into Dax, and this may be the smartest move he’s made since entering the room.
“Hey.” Dax pauses until the man turns around. “Next time you tell a joke, make sure it’s fucking funny.” The guy hurries from the room. “Unfucking believable. Do you know that dickhead?'
Holden silently nods, avoiding eye contact.
“How?”
“Well, like he said, we work together. He’s more in the kitchen, but he, uh…”
“He what, Holden?” He drops to his knees, placing both palms on her thighs, and waits for an answer. Dax doesn’t pressure her to look him in the eye, and for that she’s thankful.
“He and a few of his crew, well, you could say they taunt me all the time.”
“Keep going.”
“At first it was little things, like making me clean up at the end of their shift when it wasn’t even in my job description.”
Dax interrupts her. “Why would you do it for them?”
“They made me.”
“Holden, no, no one can make you do anything you don’t want to.”
“I’ve always obeyed.”
“No, honey, no, not anymore. Did they ever hurt you?”
“Not really.” Holden shrugs and begins picking at dry skin on her kneecap. “I mean, they’d think it was funny to throw things at me. They’d make it out like they were throwing trash in the garbage can. I may be different, but I’m not dumb.”
“And when they did this, you’d do what?”
“Just wipe my clothes off, or sometimes go into the bathroom on my break and try to wash the wet stuff off.”
Dax brings one foot up and rests his elbow on his knee and tries to cover his face. “What else?”
“They just did stupid stuff like that, but I was transferred to housekeeping.”
“That’s why I never saw you again.” Dax stands and puts his hands on his hips. “Why did they transfer you? If you never reported anything, why would you get transferred to a different department?”
“The guy who was just here accidentally hit me with a bottle one day throwing it in the trash.” Holden pulls back her bangs. “I had to get stitches. One of the crew bosses reprimanded him and then moved me. I haven’t seen him until now.”
Dax runs his finger over the fresh scar on her forehead before he turns. Holden watches him pick up the phone and dial a number.
“I need to speak with Jerry.”
There’s a slight pause.
“This is the fucking Dax Sterling, and I need to speak with Jerry now, or there will be hell to pay.”
Holden’s stomach churns with anxiety as she sits in the silent room watching Dax. The phone is to his ear, and he is obviously holding for someone. She’s not sure how to react to the whole situation. She mainly feels appreciative to have someone stick up for her, but there’s a small, lingering concern that he shouldn’t be so mean to the men.
“Jerry, Dax here. We need to meet right now. I don’t care if it’s a good time or not. Your ass will be up to room 211 or the Sterlings pull everything from this hotel and your endorsement.”
More silence passes.
“Damn right, you will be. I want you up here in thirty minutes, and have our personal shopper send up some women’s clothing in a size...”
He covers the mouthpiece of the phone and looks at Holden, wanting an answer.
“Me?” she mouths and points.
Dax chuckles. “Yes, you.”
“Medium tops and size five pants.”
Dax relays the sizes he needs, and Holden feels like a fucking idiot. She’s so clueless, and it frustrates her. Of course he was talking to her; who else is in the room?
“Some clothes are coming up in a bit, so you have something fresh to wear.” Dax sits next to her on the bed, not making any physical contact. “You’re going to file a report against everyone who witnessed any violence against you.”
“No, Dax, no. I can’t.”
“Why?”
“They’ll hate me and try to hurt me again. No, it’s fine. I don’t even see them anymore.”
“Holden, if you can’t stand up for yourself, then who will? You’ll be walked on the rest of your life.”
His words stab her right in the most vulnerable spot in her heart. His declaration is bathed in the honest truth. It’s the one thing she’ll never be able to do.
“I can’t.” Her tears begin to flow. She manages to keep her breathing under control, but the salty liquid rolls off her in streams.
“You can.”
Dax plucks the hairband from her wrist and begins gathering her hair. He kneels on the bed behind her, sweeping her red hair to the side. He begins to work her hair into a side braid. He ties it off and lays it along her shoulder.
“I had a horrible temper growing up, Holden. It always got me in trouble. Being kicked out of school and off the school bus was nothing to me. My mom used to make me braid her hair when I’d have a fit at home, and soon she threatened to come to school and make me braid it in front of my classmates.” Dax sits straddling her and pulling her back into him. “See, she didn’t understand it was therapeutic for me and was actually helping me work through my anger. You have to find a coping technique.”
“My mom told me my red hair was the sign of the devil, that I never belonged in the world, and it was only a matter of time before society would see that.” Holden focuses on her fingers as she talks. “I don’t want that to happen, Dax.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
The tone of his voice scares her, causing her impending panic attack to rise to the next level.
“Dax, it’s why I was only worthy of wearing white and eating certain foods and rarely l
et out of the house. It was because my hair was red. The men who treated me that way in the kitchen did it because of the color of my hair. I’m just thankful the devil never found me and took me away.”
Dax spins her around so rapidly, she has to steady herself by clutching his shoulders.
“I’m ripping this shit off quick and harsh like a Band-Aid on a fresh wound. You’ll see just how fucking worthy you are and how fucked up your childhood was.”
She remains speechless in his lap as her mind races with possible comments or comebacks, and hell, even more examples of her fucked-up childhood, but the only thing that comes out is, “Elephants are going to fly out of asses tonight, aren’t they, Dax?”
“You’ve no idea, Holden, what’s about to go down.”
A knock on the door abruptly ends their conversation. Holden can only watch as Dax strides across the room and opens the door. He takes a black clothes bag and returns to the bed.
“Please get dressed.”
She doesn’t even think twice before she leaps from the bed and snatches the bag while jogging to the bathroom. A unique sense of pride and fear courses through her as she studies her reflection in the mirror. She wants to believe Dax is right—no, she has to believe Dax is right—because she has no one else to guide her.
Holden picks through the clothes, and after several items she finally chooses an outfit, but yearns for approval before making a final decision.
“Dax,” she hollers.
Within moments, the bathroom door opens with a dapper Dax standing on the other side of it. Her knees buckle as her hands search for the countertop to stabilize her. He is clothed in a full suit; it’s mainly black with dashes of a royal purple peppering all the trimmings. The look in his eye doesn’t help her state of mind.
“Yes?”
She tries to form a word, but nothing but a slight moan escapes her. Holden squeezes her eyes shut, mentally berating herself for her reaction.
“Holden.” Dax closes the distance between them. “What do you need?”
“Is this…Is this okay?”
Her eyes flash to the clothes in a heap on the ground. They’re the ones she tried on and decided against because of the voices in her head telling her why they were all wrong.
“It’s perfect.”
Holden runs her palms over the slim-fitting black cocktail dress. Her arms feel naked with cool air tickling her skin. Everything about this outfit completely rattles her. Holden’s core knows it’s all wrong and she should leave, but Dax’s eyes tell a different story.
“You can do this, Holden.”
“I can do this,” she repeats.
Dax rolls over after lying awake in the same position for hours, but when he does, he brings Holden with him. She hasn’t moved after the grueling interview he put her through. He’s never felt like a bigger dick doing the right thing.
Karma, he wonders. He’s always so fast to pass off the karma judgment on everyone else and now lies in bed under its microscope. If Dax Sterling thought it was difficult hearing Holden’s side of the story the first time, then it was downright fucking pure evil listening to it the second time with a third party in the room. It took everything he had to remain in his seat and not rush down to the kitchen and bust the heads of every person in sight.
He didn’t care if it was a person who threw something at her or someone who witnessed it. He even wanted to fucking smash the bones of the people who stood by and let someone be abused. These were the thoughts which replayed in his mind while chasing sleep that never came, and his only consolation was holding her in his arms.
He fucking dares and damn near taunts the next person to even try to hurt her just so his thirsty knuckles can break some heads. Dax does have every confidence in the management to handle the issue, and he has to sit back and let them follow all the proper protocols to show Holden how easy it is to stick up for herself.
Holden rustles around in her sleep. He kisses her forehead, savoring the taste of her.
“Mmm,” she moans as she rustles a bit more.
He kisses her again in the same exact spot and listens to her light whimpers. They make him smile. His lips remain pressed against her forehead, relishing the sensation. As his senses drown in all things Holden, he knows he’ll never be able to let go of her in six weeks.
Holden flies up into a sitting position, pushing Dax off of her. Her hands cover her chest as she pants and her body trembles.
“Holden,” he whispers.
It’s as if she doesn’t hear him. He tries again, a bit louder, and receives the same response. Dax moves from his spot on the bed, resting straight in front of her, and he sees her tears flowing down her face even though her eyes are tightly shut. He places a hand on her knee, and her eyes fly open as she gasps.
“Holden,” he says, trying to focus her. “It’s okay. You just woke up.”
He steadies himself as she bolts into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and burying her face against his shoulder. Dax doesn’t analyze his next move. He holds her tight to his body.
“Oh my god, I thought it was all a dream, and then it hurt so much to wake up from such a wonderful thing.”
“It wasn’t a dream.” Dax rubs his knuckles up and down the back of her neck. “We made love, bathed together, and then you filed a report.”
“Oish, elephants did fly out of asses last night, didn’t they?”
Dax laughs and internally thanks any god who will listen for allowing Holden to calm down so easily. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t seen her at her worst and knows he’s not ready to. Maybe being together and guiding her through some issues will prevent the inevitable from happening. He could only hope.
Holden’s belly releases a loud grumble.
“Hungry?”
“Yeah, I guess. Damn hunger pains.”
“Where do you want to eat?” He tries pushing back a bit to see her face, but she’s still clutched to him. “We can order in again, or go down to the restaurant, or even go out. There are some great little cafes in walking distance.”
“Mmm.” This time it’s a pained moan. Dax forces Holden back, facing her, and he was right. There’s worry plastered all over her face.
“Talk to me.”
She sits back on the bed cross-legged and begins picking at her nails. Dax grabs her hands and holds them.
“I don’t want to order in because of last night. Yes, I’m being a wimp.” She drops her head and avoids eye contact. “I don’t want to eat in the restaurant because of who might be working. And going outside isn’t an option.”
“Okay, I’m going to be a bastard and force you to pick. You have five seconds or I’ll pick for you.”
A staring contest begins, but not one word is exchanged.
“Restaurant it is.”
Holden’s jaw drops.
“I wasn’t shitting you. There’s no reason to have fear anymore.”
He can feel her hands tremble underneath his, so he tightens his grip on her.
“Trust me, Holden.”
It’s not a question or plea, but a promise he intends to fulfill in every possible way. As he studies her eyes, Dax realizes something that shocks him. Not once in over twenty-fours has he felt the urge to get high. Well, that’s not the complete truth. His addiction runs deep and needs to be fulfilled, but this time it’s the redheaded woman sitting in front of him that he needs to get high on.
Dax crawls up onto the bed, closes the space between them, but stops before his lips touch hers. On his hands and knees he gets closer and closer, urging Holden to lie back on the bed. She follows his prompts and finds her back against the white down comforter.
Dax presses down and his lips find hers. He kisses her passionately, trying like hell to show her how fucking much he needs her. Using one of his hands, he roams down to her legs, spreading them apart and then settling in. He begins to trail back up the length of her body when he realizes she isn’t wearing any panties. She slept in his t-shirt and n
othing else.
His hands immediately go back down to her core, his palm splays out over her smooth skin, and then his fingers find her opening. To his surprise, she is already wet. Dax was sure it would take some coaxing to get her fired up. He keeps her lips entertained with his kisses as his fingers begin to explore.
He notices Holden has a hard time kissing him back, and that fact makes him hot. His fingers speed up, beginning to play her like a fiddle, and it’s only moments later when she breaks their kiss and throws her head back into the pillows, and tries to arch her back under him. He doesn’t slow down, continuing to study the pleasure on her face. It makes his cock grow even harder, wanting to be sunk deep in her. It takes all of his self-control not to begin fucking her.
“Dax.”
Her breathless, needy plea makes him smile. He dips his head and sucks the flesh on her neck. Her petite hips buck up to meet the rhythm of his fingers. He quickens the pace. Her sex clenches around him and he knows she’s about to fall, so he picks up his head and studies her as the pleasure takes over.
Her body collapses into the bed, and he knows his job is done. Holden lies wet and ready for him. Dax pushes off the bed and stands, which catches Holden’s attention. She props herself up on her elbows, about to ask a question, and it’s then when he sees realization spread across her face. He makes a little show of slowly dragging down his underwear, but when his cock springs free he can no longer be patient.
Crawling back on the bed, Dax kisses a trail up the inside of Holden’s leg. For the first time she spreads her legs wide open, allowing him to settle in. He continues trailing a path of kisses along her ribcage and then he comes nose to nose with her and is ready to go in. She takes control of the moment, pulling his face down to her and kisses him. Then he feels her push her hips up to him and he sinks the tip of his cock into her. His hips push down the rest of the way, plunging into her in one movement.
Being so deep in her, he loses his mind and feels the familiar high he gets from the white powder course through him. Holden stares up at him, and it only makes it feel that much better.
