by Amelia Autin
But that wasn’t fair to Holly, no matter what she’d told him last night. She deserved candlelight and romantic music, flowers and fine wine. She deserved gentle wooing. Not some guy with a box of condoms crammed into his pocket.
Which reminded him...he did have a box of condoms crammed into his pocket. A box he suddenly and desperately wanted to use.
Holly’s smile faded. But before he could say anything, she jumped up from the table, cleared away the dishes, his included, and stacked them in the sink, saying, “Probably shouldn’t use the dishwasher if it’s only going to be the two of us, since it will take several days to fill, and—”
“Holly.” That was all he said. Just her name. But she froze at the sink. He found himself standing behind her somehow. Just as last night he could have sworn he never moved, but there he was, sliding his hands down her arms, gently turning her unresisting body to face him. And he knew she could see the aching need in him he couldn’t possibly hide.
“I want you,” he admitted, as if it wasn’t obvious. “God knows I want you. But not like this. Not if you’re afraid of me.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she said quickly. “It’s me. I’m afraid of me.” She must have read in his expression that he didn’t follow her, because she added quietly, “I want you, too, Chris. In fact, that’s pretty near all I can think about whenever you’re around.” Her voice dropped to little more than a whisper. “And even when you’re not.”
“Then why afraid?” he asked, one hand coming up to cup her cheek, to rub his thumb against her lips. This close he could feel the tremor that ran through her. “I won’t hurt you, Holly, I promise. I’d never hurt you.” Then it occurred to him maybe she was worried about—
“I haven’t slept around, in case you’re wondering.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “There hasn’t been anyone since Laura.” He hesitated, of two minds about revealing more. But then he figured she had a right to know. “And there wasn’t anyone before her, either.”
* * *
Something about the way his confession was made touched Holly so deeply she couldn’t respond at first.
“Thank you for telling me,” she whispered finally, cradling his face between her hands for a moment. She let her hands drop to her sides, wanting to be as honest with Chris as he’d been with her. “Grant was... I’d loved him all my life, so I never...” Her throat closed and she couldn’t continue.
“Holly.” The aching need embodied in that one word shook her to the core. Then he kissed her, and it was even better than it had been last night. Passion had exploded between them the night before, but tonight...tonight there was tenderness mixed in with the passion. And wonder. Chris kissed her as if he couldn’t believe she was there in his arms, but at the same time as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.
He whispered her name again, and Holly thought she’d never heard so many suppressed emotions in a man’s voice. Want was there, and need. Overlaid with a cherishing tone that told her this would be more than just sex for Chris. If she hadn’t already figured out from his confession that he only slept with women he cared for deeply, she would have known it by his voice.
And that made her decision easy. Here. Now. Tonight. It wasn’t just that she wanted to know what it would be like with a man who hadn’t grown up with her, who didn’t see her as more of a friend than a lover. She wanted to know what it would be like with Chris, with this man who haunted her dreams and tugged at her heart in ways she’d never felt before. Ways she’d never realized she could feel. She wanted to know if the reality of making love with him came anywhere close to matching her dreams. Because if it did, that would reveal something about herself she was eager—and a little nervous—to learn.
* * *
Chris reluctantly withdrew his lips from Holly’s and gazed down into her face. If she’d been wearing that “don’t hurt me” expression, the one so like Jamie’s, which appeared on occasion when she wasn’t aware, he would have let her go. But she wasn’t. Her expression said she wanted him...and she wasn’t afraid anymore.
“I need a shower.” He pulled away from her a little and coaxed. “Come with me.”
“Okay.” He loved the little catch in her voice, and the not-quite-shy way she agreed. Then she looked puzzled and reached down to his jeans pocket. “What’s this?”
Crap. He’d forgotten. But he wasn’t going to lie to her. “Condoms,” he admitted. Then hurried to add, “I wasn’t assuming... Okay, maybe I was assuming...but only if you... I wanted to be prepared, and I... Just in case...”
He was floundering—he knew that. But then Holly put her fingers over his lips to cut off his jumbled phrases and smiled. A womanly smile. “Thank you for thinking of it,” she murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth. Then she took his hand and led him from the kitchen...down the long hallway...into the master bedroom.
They undressed in the master bathroom. Chris shucked off his clothes in no time. But after one moment staring at his naked body—a stare his body responded to noticeably—Holly stalled with only her jeans removed.
“Don’t go shy on me now,” he said, moving to stand in front of her and reaching for the buttons on her blouse.
“It’s not that. Not exactly.” She put her hands over his, stopping him from undoing the buttons. “It’s just that...well...I’ve had a baby. Two babies. And...well...”
He got it. “You think I care about a few stretch marks?” He laughed softly. “Holly, Holly, Holly,” he chided. “You must not have much of an opinion of me if you think that.”
“I don’t, but I...”
He was already undressing her. Parting the unbuttoned edges of her blouse, reaching back and unerringly unclasping her bra, then helping her out of them both. Caressing the skin he’d bared. Including the ever-so-slight protrusion that was a reminder of the babies she’d carried, and the silvery, barely there stretch marks.
He slid his fingers beneath the elastic on her hips and slipped her underwear free, then down. When she was as completely naked as he was, he knelt and placed his unshaven cheek against her stomach, grasping her hips so she couldn’t escape, rubbing until she shivered and her nipples tightened for him.
Then he stood. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he told her in his deepest voice, meaning every word. So she was obviously a mother. So what? So her body wasn’t model perfect. Did she really think he cared? He wanted her like hell burning, and she was worried about these little imperfections? “So beautiful,” he whispered, drawing her against his body and kissing her the way he’d dreamed of doing, with no barriers between them.
She was trembling all over when he finally let her go, and that turned him on big-time. But he needed that shower after the day he’d had. “Do you want to do something with your hair?” he asked. “So it doesn’t get wet?”
She twisted her hair up, then used a clip to hold her hair in place.
Without another word he tugged her into the shower with him. He soaped himself and rinsed off quickly but took his time washing her. Letting his fingers linger where he knew a woman loved to be touched. He’d made love to only one other woman in his life, but he knew the vulnerable places on a woman’s body. Knew how to fulfill her, too—a man didn’t have to be promiscuous to know that. All he needed was a little imagination and a strong desire to please.
He continued caressing her long after they were both clean, until she caught his hands and said, “Enough. I can’t... I don’t want...”
He captured her lips for a brief kiss. “Yeah,” he growled when he let her go. “I don’t want, either. I want to be inside you the first time. I want to feel you tight around me when you come.” Primal, maybe. Direct. But the God’s honest truth.
They barely managed to get the covers pulled down before they practically fell into bed together. Holly helped
Chris roll on the condom—although helped wasn’t quite the word that came to mind when her fingers touched his erection. But he held his breath and let her because she obviously wanted to. Because he knew it gave her pleasure to touch him this way.
That was his last coherent thought. As soon as the condom was in place he lost any claim to rationality he’d ever had. He felt like a heat-seeking missile, with Holly his only target. Despite the urge to thrust hard and deep, he eased into the damp warmth between her legs and she welcomed him with a soft moan of pleasure. Then another when he withdrew and returned. Again and again. Faster and faster. He pulled her thighs up around his hips to delve deeper, and she arched beneath him, gasping his name.
His lips found her nipples, first one, then the other, and she arched again and cried out, her fingernails digging into his shoulders as if she couldn’t bear it. But he knew she could. “Yes,” he groaned when she involuntarily tightened around him, and he knew she was close. So close. “Come for me, Holly. Yes, like that,” he managed when he felt her internal throbbing, though he could barely breathe. Barely speak. “Like that. Oh, God, Holly, like that.” Then with a flurry of thrusts he came, too.
In the few seconds before he lost consciousness, Chris tightened his arms around Holly, wanting to never let her go. Needing it. Needing her.
Chapter 13
Oh, my was all Holly could think of as she lay beneath Chris, both of them breathing heavily, his body still embedded in hers. Oh, my. Oh. My.
Her dreams hadn’t even come close, because she’d had no idea. None. She gave a little hiccup that was half laughter, half tears, as she realized she and Grant hadn’t... They’d never... Not even once. Not like this. For just a moment she grieved for Grant, because she wasn’t sure she’d ever satisfied him the way she was absolutely certain she’d satisfied Chris. And she grieved for herself, too, for all the times she’d wondered what was wrong with her.
Chris grunted suddenly, as if he had temporarily blacked out and had just resurfaced. He tried to separate himself from her, but Holly tightened her legs, not wanting to lose this euphoric feeling, as if she was floating above herself.
“I’m too heavy,” Chris muttered, but Holly’s hands grasped his hips.
“Don’t make me hurt you,” she warned, only half kidding. “Move and die.”
He laughed, a rumbling sound, then swiftly rolled them over so she was on top. “That’s better,” he said. “But, Holly...” His eyes teased hers. “You can’t keep me prisoner forever.”
“That’s what you think.” She deliberately contracted and relaxed her inner muscles around him. Once. Twice. Three times. And each time she felt him respond. “Have you ever heard of Kegel exercises?”
“What’s that?”
“Something they teach women after they’ve had a baby. It helps restore pelvic floor muscle tone.”
“Oh, great.” He laughed under his breath. “I guess I really am your prisoner, ’cause I’m not risking damage down there.” That made her laugh, too. “But, Holly, much as I’m enjoying this, I have to do something about the condom.”
She’d forgotten about that, but he hadn’t. She stopped Kegeling him, then squirmed until he was free. Chris jackknifed off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. She heard the shower running for a minute, then he returned, a towel wrapped around his hips. His narrow hips. Above which his abs and chest muscles rippled in masculine perfection that until a few minutes ago she’d touched up close and personal.
Holly’s fingers itched to touch him again, but instead she grabbed the top sheet and pulled it up to hide herself and her imperfections from his view. “Oh, hell no,” he told her, throwing the towel on a chair and diving across the king-size bed. He wrestled the sheet away from her, then playfully held her down while he looked his fill.
Warmth in her cheeks informed her she was blushing, although she couldn’t see it. But still he looked. And when his eyes finally connected with hers, he said softly, “Beautiful, Holly. You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.”
She caught her breath at the very male, very intent expression on his face, and almost believed him. “I couldn’t lose those last five pounds after the twins were born,” she said faintly. “I tried so hard, too!”
“Where?” He settled between her legs, bearing most of his weight on his elbows. “Here?” He cupped her breasts, breasts that had never quite returned to their original size and shape after she’d breast-fed Ian and Jamie. His thumbs played over her nipples until they tightened unbearably. “You’ll get no complaints from me here, Holly,” he bantered. His big hands slid down to her waist, his thumbs stroking back and forth over her belly until she quivered. “Here? No, I don’t think so.” His husky voice, the look in his eyes, told her he wasn’t kidding. Then those firm masculine hands curved over her hips. “Must be here, then,” he suggested, as if he were serious, his long fingers lightly squeezing. He shook his head after a moment. “Wrong again.”
She was melting and he knew it. That was all she could think of as his wicked blue eyes held hers. She’d just had the most incredible orgasm of her entire life, and already she wanted him again. And impossible as it seemed, he wanted her again, too—he was already hot and hard at the crux of her thighs, and she wiggled a little until she could feel him pressed up against exactly where she wanted him.
“Again?” he teased, emphasizing the last syllable.
She smiled at his playful tone and tried to make her tone just as light and playful. “Yes, please.” She wasn’t quite successful.
His eyes seemed to darken, and she shivered at the blatant desire that flared there. “Oh, I’m going to please you, Holly,” he murmured, reaching for a condom on the nightstand, not waiting for her assistance. He fitted himself in place, then twined his fingers with hers. “I’m going to please you until you can’t take any more,” he whispered seductively. “And when I’m done, you’ll know just how perfect you are.” He smiled a very wolfish smile. “Hang on tight,” he told her. “You may experience a little turbulence.”
Holly’s sudden laugh turned into a moan as he flexed his hips and thrust deep. Then withdrew and thrust again...slowly. Agonizingly slowly. Intense pleasure, sharp and urgent, knifed through her with each perfect thrust, until she clung to his hands and arched like a bow, crying his name.
* * *
“Still no word from Mr. Colton,” Evalinda McCay reminded her husband as they dressed for bed...as if he needed the reminder.
“What do you expect me to do about it?”
The expression in her eyes bore no good for anyone. “How are we going to rid ourselves of Holly and get our hands on the twins and their trust fund if we can’t locate her?”
“Mr. Colton promised us results,” Angus protested weakly.
“One more day,” she warned. “We’ll give him one more day. Then I think we’ll need to look for another detective.”
“You really want to start all over? What if—”
“It was your idea to try to run her off the road the first two times,” Evalinda reminded him contemptuously. “You were so sure that would work...but it didn’t. Either time.”
“Yes,” he was quick to defend himself, “but at least Holly didn’t suspect anything. It wasn’t until you suggested running her down in the parking lot that she—”
Evalinda wouldn’t let him finish. “Don’t try to shift the blame for that fiasco onto me. You were the one who hired the men to kill her. If they hadn’t been so incompetent...”
“You think it was easy finding someone who—”
“One more day,” she repeated implacably, cutting him off, and he knew further argument was useless. Just as he’d fallen in with Evalinda’s plans to murder Holly in the first place, he knew he would cave on this, too.
* * *
Chris woke at two in the morning w
hen moonlight crept through the bedroom window. He thought about getting up and completely closing the top-down, bottom-up blinds that were lowered at the top. The way the blinds were drawn now gave the room’s occupants privacy but still allowed them to see the night sky. That also meant, unfortunately, it let the moonlight in, and he’d always been a “pitch-black” sleeper. The blinds were completely drawn in the bedroom he was occupying. He just hadn’t thought about it here in the master bedroom because he’d been too focused on the other things he was doing.
But he wasn’t about to get up to close the blinds at this moment. Holly was sleeping cradled against him, her head pillowed on his shoulder. And he’d be damned before he woke her.
He and Holly had worn each other out earlier, but a certain part of his anatomy twitched to life at the reminder of everything they’d done tonight. Two spent condoms now resided in the wastebasket in the bathroom, but he hadn’t been satisfied to leave it at that. They’d dozed after the second time but had woken before midnight. And as they’d cuddled and lazily caressed beneath the comforter, he’d told her in all seriousness, “I want to watch you come. Will you let me?”
She’d been adorable in her confusion, and he’d had a strong hunch no one had ever done that for her before. Holly had told Chris her husband was the only man she’d ever slept with, but that didn’t mean other avenues had been completely closed. Apparently that had been the case, though. Equally apparent was the fact that Holly’s husband had never put her needs first, which didn’t surprise Chris. There were still a lot of men out there who never worried about pleasing a woman. Who thought she was responsible for her own orgasms, and if it happened, fine. If it didn’t, oh well. He wasn’t one of those men, but he knew some who were.
It had taken a little coaxing but eventually Holly had conceded. And then—holy crap!—her response had been off the charts. Hearing her...watching her...tasting her...had turned him on so hard he’d been tempted to use a third condom, but she’d pretty much passed out by then, so he’d refrained. But he’d promised himself next time they made love he’d start with that and see where it took them.
