Unwrapping Holly

by Lisa Renee Jones

  How Cole is. Holly swallowed hard against the discomfort the words caused. She inhaled deeply and tried to understand why that bothered her. She’d not come here with the expectation of anything but a hot escape with Cole. It shouldn’t surprise her that he would see her in the same way—a hot holiday escape that ended when she went back home. Her gut twisted a little. But Cole was no longer a nameless one-night stand. And she had never been simply an out-of-town girl leaving soon. She was thinking of moving home.

  She turned back to the counter and set her glass on top, holding the cold surface with a steely grip. What was she doing? If she moved back here, things could be awkward with her and Cole. If she didn’t—painful to leave. She didn’t want to feel like her long-term decisions were influenced by a fantasy, and she feared that was where this was headed. She needed to talk to him, to figure this out.

  Cole’s voice sounded on the other side of the door a minute before he was suddenly there in the kitchen with her, leaving her no time to analyze her feelings or get a grip on them. Holly turned as he closed in on her; his legs framed hers, his arms outstretched to hold the cabinet on either side of her.

  “Hey,” he said as if they hadn’t seen each other five minutes ago and she wasn’t standing in his kitchen.

  Holly found herself laughing, the coil of tension inside her fading quickly. “Hey.”

  He wiggled his brows. “I hear you’re using me for my body?”

  She grinned at the repeated words she’d spoken a few minutes ago to his brother Jacob. “I like your tree, too,” she teased, feeling lighter by the moment. Cole was just so damn good at making her forget to be stressed—even when she should be. He was easy to be with. Easy to have fun with, she thought, as she added, “And it’s a good thing.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Because I can’t even manage to get your pants off.”

  He laughed and kissed her, stepping closer so that the hard proof of his arousal pressed against her stomach. “Don’t I know it,” he murmured against her neck, and nibbled her ear. “I can’t wait until we’re alone.”

  Her hands sculpted his muscular back. He felt good. He smelled good. Like warm cinnamon and spice. “Me neither.” Maybe tonight should be where she stopped this thing with Cole. She didn’t know what her next move should be. Didn’t want to think about it at this very moment. But she did want to enjoy what time they had. She played with the dark strands of his hair. “Don’t rush your brothers off because of me. They seem really into the tree thing.”

  He studied her, his expression suddenly serious. “I’m glad you’re here, Holly.” The sincerity took her off guard, warmed her inside out, and Holly knew in that moment that she was in trouble. She couldn’t seem to get him into his bedroom, and if she wasn’t careful, soon she might not get him out of her heart. Which made the idea of being daring, of reaching beyond her limits all the more appealing. Better to keep this in perspective—this was a fantasy, a fling. An erotic adventure.

  “I’m glad I’m here, too,” she said, sliding her hand down the front of his pants and stroking his cock. “Let me show you how glad.” He thickened beneath her touch, and she felt the high of that power to please, to tease. She’d never been so bold, and she was beginning to like it. She went up on her toes and nipped his lips, while one finger tracked the ridge of his erection. “You like that, yes?”

  “Holly,” he whispered. “If you don’t stop now—”

  She smiled. “I might make you come?” she challenged, her body caressing a path down his until she was on her knees before him. Her hands settled on his hips as she tilted her chin, staring up at him. “Do you want to come, Cole?” She had his zipper down by the time she’d finished the question, her hand freeing the thick, hot length of his cock.

  “Yes, baby,” he said roughly. “I want to come. Take me in your mouth.”

  She wrapped the width of him in one hand, a ball of liquid pooling at the tip of the head. Holly stared up at him and licked it free. He moaned and grabbed the counter.

  “Shhh,” she warned. “Your brothers might hear.”

  “I really don’t give a damn right about now, Holly,” he said. “They know when to get lost, and if they don’t, I’ll kick their asses.” His eyes heated, his cock pulsed. “Suck me, sweetheart. Suck me, now.”

  The idea that they could be discovered was surprisingly arousing. But she wasn’t ready to give him what he wanted, not yet. She licked him instead, lapped at the silky head of his erection with long, languid strokes of her tongue, and found herself moaning when the salty taste of his arousal touched her lips. The muscles in her womb clenched and tightened.

  She stared up at him, watching him watch her. The raw, ani malistic hunger in his expression drove her wild. Teasing him was torture, and she could wait no longer. Holly drew him into her mouth, sucking him deep, and wrapped one hand around his stellar, tight ass. She wanted all of him, wanted him as hot as she felt. He pumped his hips, low guttural sounds escaping his mouth as he worked against her, pulsing and throbbing in her mouth. She could feel the tension in him, the need for release. He was damned near shaking and so was she. She’d never had a man come in her mouth and she wanted that now, wanted to taste his release, feel that power, that control. She licked and sucked, urging him onward. Give it to me, she thought. Give it to me. As if he heard her silent demand, he tensed and then shook, his cock spasming against her lips. Suddenly, her body clenched, tightened. Disbelieving, she realized she was coming, and with each pulse of her own body, she sucked him harder, deeper, took his pleasure with her own. Drank in every last drop of his release and then slowly, delicately licked the head of his still-thick erection and stared up at him.

  “Now we can go finish the tree,” she whispered.

  HOLLY SNUGGLED INTO THE BURST of warmth surrounding her, her lashes fluttering as she came awake to find herself in Cole’s strong arms. He lifted her from the couch where she remotely remembered curling under a blanket and listening to him and his brothers talk about holidays of the past.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, her arms wrapping around his neck, noting the absence of his brothers, who had clearly departed while she slept.

  “Not far,” he said, settling her down on a blanket in front of the fire a moment before he pushed to his feet and started undressing. In a blink, Holly shook off the haze of sleep, her mouth watering. Finally, she had Cole to herself, all of him. She was instantly wide awake, enthralled by every inch of his exposed skin. The tree twinkled behind him, casting rainbows of color on the taut, gorgeous muscles he wasted no time displaying—first he removed his shirt, exposing broad shoulders, a tapered waist, and a six-pack of rock-hard abdominals that damned near made her orgasm just looking at them. Then, one piece after the other, his clothing disappeared.

  In only seconds, he stood gloriously naked before her, his cock jutting forward in an impressive arousal. She was on her knees in an instant, crawling toward him, not about to wait for him to come to her, desire driving her to be the aggressor. Her body gushed just thinking about taking him in her mouth, and this time she would have no mercy. She would make him beg for satisfaction before it was over.

  Holly settled at his feet, and caressed up his powerful calves and then wrapped the base of his cock with her palm. He moaned and stiffened, the lines of his face harsh, primitive, laden with the urgent anticipation she’d hoped to invite. She’d given her share of blow jobs in her college years, compliments of a boyfriend who favored his pleasure over hers. And she’d found that the process of mastering it, much like a craft, was enticing though not quite enjoyable. Never had she wanted to take a man in her mouth for the sheer pleasure of it—until now. Until Cole. She was like a new woman with Cole. Daring. Willing to explore and eager to use her newfound sexuality to lead an encounter. With a seductive glance upward, she pinned him in a stare and licked the liquid bead pooling at the tip of his arousal, her free hand skimming an amazingly tight ass.

  “You like that?” she asked, her
lips lingering near his cock.

  “Yes.”

  She licked the head again.

  “Holly,” Cole murmured, her name etched with the burn of his desire, his fingers pressed to her head, in her hair, urging her onward as she did a slow swirl of her tongue around the head of his cock.

  “Do it, Holly. Take me.”

  “Not yet,” she said, lapping at him. She wanted more than his orgasm. She wanted all of him; she wanted him wild, a ball of sexual tension unleashed with explosive pleasure.

  So, she restrained herself, restrained him, maintained a facade of leisure as she licked up and down his length.

  With long, languid strokes of her tongue, she teased them both until finally, inch by inch, she drew his cock into her mouth, taking him deeply. He was hot and hard and, like before, she tasted, with satisfaction, the salty, taut need building within him.

  Slowly, she began to pump his rod with her hand, suckling him and laving him with her tongue. Harder, she pulled on him; deeper, she took him—yes . . . she wanted him deeper. His cock expanded, thickened. What she couldn’t manage with her mouth, she covered with a tight wrap of her palm. His muscles strained; the sinewy lines of well-defined male perfection flexed as pleasure stole away his control.

  “Harder, baby,” he panted. “Deeper.” She smiled against his cock, and gave him what he wanted, working him with her hand and mouth. The slow rock of his hips was no longer contained, turning to all-out thrusts; his hands settled more firmly in her hair. He was on the edge, rushing over into release. She drew him deeper, and he tensed a moment before shuddering to release. She worked her mouth around him, lapped up every last moment of the reward, and then slowly brought him down.

  But there was no time to revel in her success, her power over this amazing man. Cole swiftly shifted the power, claiming control. One moment he was standing, the next, on his knees in front of her, his eyes smoldering with the promise of a bounty of sinful delights. He lowered her to the blanket, framing her body with his, the fire beside them crackling with hot embers.

  He whispered her name against her lips, “Holly.” And she shivered with the passion-etched word. Shivered with the caress of his lips across her jaw, down her neck.

  With sensual, tender hands, and nimble lips, he displayed a remarkable flair for finding every sensitive spot on her body. Demonstrating how sinful his lips could be in the most delightfully unexpected places, his tongue traced her wrist, the bend of her arm, the line of her spine clear to her backside.

  She was lost, barely aware of the moment he slid a condom in place. Barely aware of her own name for the tenderness of his lovemaking.

  And when he settled the pulsing thickness of his arousal between her legs, she held her breath as she waited to finally feel him inside her. He teased her, gliding his thick, hard length back and forth along the slick wet heat of the V of her body, stroking her with sensation but denying her the reward of release.

  With a nip of his teeth on her lips, he pulled back to capture her in a fiery stare that implored her to look at him as he entered her. Only when he seemed confident he had her attention, did he slide that sinfully hard cock past her sensitive flesh. He hesitated a moment, taunting them both with what was to come, and then thrust hard. Holly gasped as he sunk deep, a kaleidoscope of sensations exploding in her body, followed by a sigh of satisfaction. A sigh he swallowed with a kiss, his lips slanting over hers with tenderness that turned to wild need. Soon they were in a frenzied rush of lovemaking—primal, red-hot. They moved together, faster, rougher, ravenous.

  Cole grabbed one of her legs and pulled it over his shoulder. Holly quickly aided him, sliding the other one over his shoulder as well. He leaned forward and pinched her nipples; her womb spasmed around his cock. Passion ripped across his features as he grabbed her legs for leverage and, raising up on his knees, thrust into her with newfound force. Each thrust shot pleasure through her body, and the sight of his sweat-glistened body straining as he thrust that thick, hard cock inside her was complete bliss.

  “Yes,” she murmured as the build of pressure began; she gave in to the need to shut her eyes as she arched into him. She wanted more of that spot, to tell him so. More. More. Did she dare say it? It was something she’d never done before, but she needed this so damned bad. She needed . . . “Yes. Yes. Harder. Harder, Cole.”

  He groaned and pushed her legs to her chest, curling her inward and thrusting fast and hard. The explosion of pleasure came fast, without warning, and a cry lodged in Holly’s throat. Cole pumped again and again, and then grunted with a hard lunge, sinking deep, and spilling his pleasure inside her. They clung to each other, riding out the last waves of release until slowly he eased her legs down and slid between them. They lay like that for long moments, his head buried in her neck, bodies melded together.

  Minutes later, Cole rolled over and settled her under his arm, her head nestled on his chest. She felt remarkably content in a way she’d never felt with a man. A wonderful lover, a fire, a Christmas tree. What more could a girl desire?

  Thinking of the tree reminded her of the tree topper. She’d fallen asleep without seeing it. She rolled onto her stomach to stare up at the tree. Cole immediately rolled to his side, wrapping his arm around her and nuzzling her neck and distracting her from the tree.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” he murmured.

  The endearment, though easily spoken by a man to a woman, felt intimate and special. “I wanted to see . . .” She blinked up at the tree topper. “It’s a ruby angel,” she whispered. What were the odds of a ruby wish and a ruby angel? How odd. She almost laughed, wondering if Grandma Reddy was up to mischief from above.

  Cole rolled to his stomach and lifted onto his elbows to study the tree. “My parents bought that angel their first Christmas together, forty years ago.” His voice took on a distant, thoughtful tone—a mixture of happy and sad faded in and out of the words. “My mother was very romantic about it. She had to have that angel on the tree for luck. One year when I was a teen, I remember finding her crying in the attic. She thought it was lost. We tore the house apart.”

  “Where was it?”

  He chuckled and cut her a sideways look. “A hatbox in the closet where she’d put it so it would be safe.”

  Holly smiled and stared up at the angel, thinking of the ruby Grandpa had given Grandma. Of the love both rubies represented. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

  Cole pulled her close, so they lay facing each other, heads on the pillows he’d brought for them. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” she said, and she might have blushed, if not for the solemn quality she sensed in him.

  She could see he was the pillar in his family. But even pillars had weak spots. She sensed that in his effort to appear strong for his brothers, he’d never properly faced his loss and dealt with his own sorrow. He was hurting.

  She thought about her grandmother, but decided not to share her loss. Or even how her father had coped with losing his parents. She didn’t want to diminish the importance of Cole and his family.

  Holly reached out and touched his cheek. “Healing takes time.”

  His chest expanded with the words, as if he was surprised she understood what he was feeling. He pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed it, thanking her without words. His arms wrapped around her and pulled her close, curling her next to his body. And Holly knew that at least for this one night, she was his pillar.

  Chapter Seven

  The room was cold, the fire long ago having died, but he was warm. Cole woke to a soft feminine scent. He blinked awake, light spraying through a nearby window. Soft hair tickled his nose as he looked down at Holly curled to his side.

  He waited for that feeling that usually came at this point. The one that expanded in his chest and told him it was time to say good-bye. But it didn’t come. He shook himself inwardly, reached for that familiar comfortable feeling, but instead found something else, something beyond comfortable, something that b
ordered on fulfillment.

  Holly shivered and snuggled closer to him, the stiff peaks of her nipples brushing his chest as she lifted her head and stared up at him with sleepy sky blue eyes.

  “I’m once again reminded that I’m not in Texas anymore.” Her teeth chattered. “I’m cold.”

  And he was hard, his dick as stiff as a steel rod, and this wasn’t a case of morning wood. This was about Holly. About wanting her almost to the point of need. About how she seemed to fit him in every way and understand him—see through his barriers to his struggle over the loss of his parents. Hell. She even seemed to “get” his brothers.

  A growing sense of peace formed in him, and he rolled her over, slid on top of her. “I’ll keep you warm,” he vowed as he felt her body melding to his in all the right places, her arms wrapping around his neck.

  “You better,” she said. “Because you can’t be inviting a Texas girl into your home and freezing her to death. It’s not right.”

  Texas girl. She was leaving. He felt a surprising jolt of discomfort that he didn’t like. He kissed her, preferring the sweet taste of her instant desire, rather than thoughts of her departure. Deciding he’d get over whatever he was feeling for Holly, he’d make sure he did. He’d keep her close, get his fill of her. Work her out of his system. Fuck her until he could fuck no more. Starting now, he decided. Cole slipped his hand between her thighs, caressed the silky heat of her lips, and entered her.

  He pressed to the deepest recesses of her body, and Holly sighed in that sweet, satisfied way that reached inside him and twisted him inside out. Unexpected possessiveness flared within him with the fierceness of a wildfire. He never wanted her to make that sound for another man. The realization drew him up short, and he buried his face in her neck. A memory of his father talking about his courtship of their mother replayed in his head: When all the female wonders of the world fade in her presence, you’ll know she’s the one. Cole had laughed at that, certain that the many varieties of women would always be far more appealing than one woman. But then, he had never met Holly.