Central heat wasn’t something we had at my house. Everyone assumes moonshiners are rich, and to an extent they are, but most of them are greedy, too. And instead of doing things like giving your kids central heat, you go out and purchase a sixty-thousand-dollar truck for a teenage kid who doesn’t understand responsibility and gets put in jail a year after getting it. None of my family has a sensible bone in their body, and they suffer for it.
My grandpa yells to anyone who’ll listen that he makes moonshine because his social security isn’t enough for him to live on, when the fact of the matter is, the man’s never learned to budget a day in his life. He has no savings, and he wouldn’t know what to do with it, if he did. Same goes with my dad and brother.
I’m not really sure where I get my sensible thoughts from. Maybe my mom?
I shiver, running through the house to find some warmer clothes to wear and to get my mind off of thinking about my mother. That’s a place I haven’t wanted to go for years, and definitely a place I don’t want to go tonight. Glancing through my chest of drawers, I see I have nothing to keep me warm for temperatures like this. A testament to how few nights we have this cold.
“I guess that’s what I have a husband for.” I shrug as I go over to his closet and open the door.
It’s not very often I go in here, basically only when I’m putting up his laundry or helping him get dressed for the day. The scent of his cologne that lingers on everything is prevalent here, and I like to take a second to let it wash over me. I’ll always, for the rest of my life, associate this smell with my husband. Snapping out of it, I rifle through the stuff he has there, before I find a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants.
I’m shivering as I take my clothes off, leaving my socks on, and do a quick switch out of my outfit for his. Putting the hood of the sweatshirt up over my head, I sigh, finally encased by warmth. Tiptoeing back out to the living room, I take another look at the thermostat, trying to figure out how to turn the heat on. I feel inadequate, not knowing how to do this, when so many others probably do. Just another time where my upbringing failed me.
I hear boots on the porch and make a small sound of joy in my throat that Holden’s home. The door opens, with it spilling in the cold air. I clasp my arms across my chest to ward off the chill, thankful when he shuts the door.
The moment Holden turns around to look at me, I see a hunger in his eyes I’ve never seen before. I want to ask what it is, but my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth and I’m frozen in the spot I stand.
“What?” I finally ask, self-conscious as hell.
“My clothes look better on you than they do on me. You look really fuckin’ good in my shirt,” he answers, his voice rough.
For the first time I get a good look at him; he’s a little pale and shivering himself. “I was cold and couldn’t figure out how to turn the heat on,” I explain. His eyes are a bit glassy, and I’m a little worried. “Are you okay? You don’t look so hot.”
“The house doesn’t have central heat because it’s an older one. I have gas logs in the fireplace, and when you crank it up, it’ll get the whole house warm,” he explains, making me feel better about not being able to figure it out.
“I’ll turn it on for us, because I’m freezing, too.”
I walk over to him, watching as he squats and opens the glass barrier of the fireplace and turns a few knobs, cranking up the heat. Immediately I can feel warmth coming from the area. “You’ll have to show me how to do that, so I can warm the house up before you come home if this happens again.”
“Tomorrow,” he hangs his head. “Tonight, I don’t feel like it.”
He’s shivering as he stands up, teeth chattering with the cold. “Holden, are you okay?” I ask again.
“I feel a little like shit,” he admits, leaning against the wall. I can’t tell if he’s doing it because he’s tired, or if it’s for support.
Reaching out, I grab hold of his waist and gasp. He isn’t freezing, he’s burning up. “You’re on fire.” I immediately take my hand and put it to his forehead, feeling the hot skin.
“I’m fine.” He tries to shake me off, but stumbles as he leaves the firm support of the wall.
“You’re not fine, and you may have dealt with this yourself before, but I’ll remind you, you have me now. If you’re sick, I’ll take care of you.”
His dark eyes run over my face, and like normal, I can’t tell what he’s thinking, completely unsure of what’s running through his head. When I almost give up hope he’s going to take my help, he reaches out and grabs my hand. “I’m so cold, I feel awful, and all I want is a shower.”
Given the way he’s swaying without the support of the wall, I know he’s telling me because he’s going to need my help. I swallow roughly against the dryness that’s crept into my throat. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll help you get it, but first we need to take your temperature and get some medicine in you. It’s probably from when you stood out in that cold rain today without a hat on.”
He says nothing as I pull him toward the island in the kitchen. “Where’s your thermometer?”
He leans heavily against the granite countertop, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He coughs slightly, grimacing, before pointing up to a cabinet. “Anything for sickness is up there.”
In the time I’ve lived here, I can’t believe I didn’t know that. Neither one of us has been sick, so I guess it makes sense, but it also makes me wonder what else I don’t know about my home, about my husband. As I’m fumbling through the basket of medicine, looking for the thermometer, I realize I want to know everything. I’m not content with the way we’ve been going anymore. After talking with Violet and getting a small taste of the intense man last night, I want more – I want it all.
At the same time, I know I’m going to have to initiate it. And given the opportunity, I will, I’ll initiate until we’re naked in our bed with our bodies rubbing together. I suck a breath in, amazed at the thoughts running through my head. But I know immediately this is what I want, it’s what I’ve wanted and today gave me the courage to go after it. But first, I need to take care of my man.
Thermometer finally in hand, I turn to face him. “Open your mouth and hold it under your tongue.”
He opens his mouth and lets me press the plastic instrument in there, holding it with his hand.
“Have you been feeling bad since this afternoon?” I ask, knowing he can’t answer me because he’s got his mouth full.
He shakes his head and mumbles something around the stem of the thermometer. “Since you left to come home?” I ask, almost positive that’s what he said.
A nod this time. The thermometer beeps and he removes it from his mouth, handing it to me. “Hit me like a ton of bricks as I left the station.”
I glance at the digital readout and whistle between my teeth. “One hundred and two. Did you get a flu shot?” I glance at him with an eyebrow raised.
“It’s required of everyone in the department.”
Hopefully the flu shot is still working then, but I have a feeling the next few days aren’t going to be fun. “Well let’s get some medicine in you, and then we’ll see about getting you a shower.”
The fact he doesn’t protest speaks volumes to just how badly he feels. A few minutes later, I’ve gotten him to swallow down a fever reducer, a pain reliever, and a few sips of orange juice as we make our way toward the bathroom.
“You don’t have to do this,” he says over his shoulder.
“I don’t, but I can’t let you possibly fall and hurt yourself either. We’re adults; we can handle seeing each other’s naked bodies.”
At least I hope we can.
CHAPTER NINE
Havoc
I’m calling myself a ton of words, none of them good, as I all but agree to her plan. I’m not disagreeing, but maybe that’s worse. If I were disagreeing, at least I would be putting up a fight and not just letting this happen. I’ve wanted her for too long, and I’m
starting to lose the fight.
Fact of the matter is though, I feel awful, and if the only way she’s going to let me take a shower is with her, then I’ll do what needs to be done. I’m sore, tired, achy, and perpetually horny. Any one of those things would be enough to put someone in a bad mood, but all of them at once? Shit, I’m gonna need the patience of a saint.
Another cough rattles my chest, pulling against the not-yet-healed bruised tissue. It might be time to face the music and admit that I’m sick. Sick isn’t a word I have in my vocabulary – I don’t have time for that. But when it happens, it’s awful and it takes the wind out of all my sails. I don’t suffer from man flu like some of my friends do; when I’m sick, it’s bad. And this right here? Feels really fucking bad.
“Are you okay?” Leighton asks as she puts an arm around my waist.
Apparently I stumbled. Knowing she won’t be able to handle my weight on her own, I put the palm of my hand against the wall and do my best to help her. I’m not used to being an invalid, and this fucking sucks.
“I’m fine.” I try to nod, but the room swims in my vision.
“Holden, you’re shivering, are you sure you want a shower? Do you want to lie down instead?”
“Shower,” I croak out. I want it so bad, because I know the warm water will feel amazing on my aching body. “Need to.” My teeth chatter as she helps me into the bathroom.
As we enter the room, she points to the toilet, and I gratefully sink onto the closed lid. Leaning forward, I put my elbows on my knees, and close my eyes. The room spins and I feel hungover. Fuck, I haven’t felt hungover in at least the last two years. I’ve been a damn boy scout, doing what I’m supposed to do, taking care of my guys, and living the life of a monk. My mind wanders, and I wish like hell I didn’t take responsibility so seriously. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be carrying around this second ache in my pants. With my eyes closed, my hearing overcompensates. Leighton is moving around, cranking the water on. Hot because I can feel the steam starting to come from the shower. That’s when the nightmare really starts. She’s now taking her clothes off, and even in the state I’m in, I notice the sound her shirt makes as it goes over her head.
“Stand up, Holden.” She places her hands under my underarms and helps me stand. “Let’s get these clothes off you,” she mumbles pushing her hands underneath my shirt. I can feel her palms against my skin, her touch warm and caressing, against my aching muscles.
With quick efficiency, she strips me, and I’m standing naked in front of her. Finally, I barely open my eyes, inhaling deeply when I see she’s as naked as I am. My eyes travel from her feet, straight up to the top of her head, and then I go back to her face. It’s pink, with either embarrassment or the heat from the shower. I’m not sure which. I close my eyes and let my head tilt to the side on my neck. When I lift my lids, I can’t help but stare openly at her chest. There’s a little more than a handful there, the tips tight against the cool air in the shower, and they look like they’re swelling for my touch.
“You’re gorgeous.” The words slip from my lips before I can stop them.
She laughs softly, ducking her head. “You’re feverish.”
I lick my dry lips and lean in, grasping her hips with my hands. “Maybe for the first time with you, I’m being one-hundred percent honest.”
Leighton
Dear God, why does a sick and feverish Holden have to be so damn irresistible? His eyes are glassy, his face is flushed, and I’ve watched him stumble his way to the bathroom with my arms wrapped around his waist. I know he’s not faking the sickness, but who’s to say he realizes what he’s saying right now.
Even as I touch his skin, it’s burning up. He’s definitely spiked a high fever, and I’m waiting for the spray from the shower to cool down a bit. I don’t want to shock his system, lukewarm will hopefully bring his core temperature down. Instead, as I glance over his naked body, mine’s heating up.
“C’mon, Holden.” I lead us into the shower, turning him around so that the water is flowing over his neck and back muscles. I watch as he lifts his face up, tilting his head back, letting it wash over him. Rivulets of water snake down his head, past the short beard, making a track through the dark ink on his chest, to where I can’t see anymore. “You okay?” I grab his shoulders, holding on tight.
He sways slightly as he brings his head back forward, regarding me with those dark eyes. “I hurt so bad,” he admits, rolling his head around on his neck. He wipes a hand over his face to remove some of the water. “I feel like shit.”
Bringing him in for a hug, because that’s what I need most in this world when I feel like shit, I bury his face in my neck. We haven’t ever been this vulnerable with one another, and I let my hands travel over the buzzcut on his head, before moving down to grasp his shoulder with one hand, his waist with the other. After what I think is an eternity, he lets his body relax and wraps his arms around my waist. Closing my eyes, I let myself enjoy the complete satisfaction I get from the two of us being wrapped up in one another.
“You smell good,” I mumble against his shoulder, kissing the wet skin on a whim. Every inch of our bodies is touching, and I would give my life to push us toward the bedroom right now, let him lay me down, and have his way with me. Holden is all man and would show me what I’ve been missing in that department, I’m sure.
He grunts deep in his throat, the sound made even more manly by the scratchiness I heard there earlier. “You always smell fucking delectable. I don’t know what it is you wear, but I smell that shit in my dreams at night.”
Those words please me to no end, and when he turns his head further into my neck, dropping a kiss, the same way I did, I’m done for. I want to do a fist pump, give a shout, and maybe dance a jig. But I can’t, I can’t let Holden know how much he affects me, how often I daydream about us being truly together and where our future may take us. Right now though, I can enjoy the hell out of this.
Tilting my head to the side to give him better access, I bite my bottom lip, releasing a pleased moan, as he uses his tongue along my jawline before he dips down and takes a nip at my flesh. “Havoc,” I breathe out, unsure of why I choose this moment to use his call sign.
“What’d you say?” He stops, grasping my chin between his thumb and forefinger, leveling our gazes at one another. His eyes burn hot, darker than I’ve ever seen them before. Arousal rides high on his cheeks, and I wonder if I’ve done something good or bad.
“I called you Havoc, I’m sorry.” Why I’m apologizing I’m not sure, but I feel like I need to. He stares at me for an eternity before he shakes his head.
“No, don’t apologize. I’ve never heard a woman say that name before. At least not in that breathy, aroused voice you just used.” He takes my hand in his and lazily moves it down to what I’ve been trying to ignore. “Can’t you feel how hard it got me?”
It did get him hard, and that’s a good thing to know in the back of my mind. He moans as I grasp him in my hand, using my fingers to caress the hard length. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” I whisper in his ear before I take the lobe in between my teeth, running my tongue along the diamond earring he wears. I can’t seem to help myself. Now that I’ve started, I don’t ever want to stop. The ring he wears on his left hand gives me rights, ones I’ve never used before, and even as I’m saying we shouldn’t, I fucking really want to.
“Why?” he uses his weight to push me back against the tile, to hold me while he moves one hand up to the curve of my breast, then sneaks his thumb to the peak of my nipple. He’s not pressing hard though, I know what it’s like to be crushed to this man. The way he’s moving me around is almost tender. “Why shouldn’t we do this?” His voice is strained, deep, and needy. I’m sure mine sounds the same way. My body is humming, skin tight from where he’s been touching me, and I want nothing more than to try out the shower sex that I’ve heard people talking about, but my conscious is telling my body to slow down.
He teeters again, and I dro
p his cock to help him get his balance. “That’s exactly why – you’re sick.”
“Not dead.” He shoves his mouth into my neck again, having already figured out that’s an extremely erogenous zone for me. “Maybe not in tiptop shape.”
I forcibly remove his mouth from my neck, meeting his eyes with mine. “Maybe I want you in tiptop shape, and maybe I want to make sure you aren’t going to pass out on me.”
“Trust me; I’ve wanted you long enough not to pass out. At night I lie in bed thinking about this, wondering how long we’re going to be able to hold back from one another. It’s so thick between us; you can cut it with a knife. These feelings aren’t going anywhere, Leigh.”
Suddenly, I feel like I’ve stepped into another dimension. I’m not sure how we got from where we were this afternoon to here. Part of me knows it’s mutual sexual attraction between us, the other part of me wonders if we’re just sick of fighting it. Lord, I’ve been fighting it for so long, and I don’t want to give in, just to have our relationship be over. “No they aren’t, and if that’s the case, I think we should finish the shower and get you in bed.”
And those are the hardest words I’ve ever spoken in my life. Please don’t pull away from me, I beg in my head. I like this Holden, like that he’s willing to show me a part of himself he never has before. Sitting with him in the booth earlier today and being with him tonight have made this whole situation I’ve been thrown into almost worth it.
He clears his throat. “Maybe you’re right.”
The coldness I feel when he leaves me is like the frigid temperature of Antarctica, and this time my teeth begin to chatter. Gone is the warm fuzzy feeling I’d had a few minutes ago, and in its place is the coolness I’ve felt most of my life. I know he doesn’t mean it, but it’s like we’ve thrown ice-cold water on one another.
Without any of the playfulness we’d had minutes ago, we finish the shower, and I help him dry off and get dressed. In the end, his eyes are droopy and I know it was for the best that I called off whatever was going to happen between us. He’s done for, and I think we both know it.
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