by Stella Rhys
It was.
And at this point I needed to know, even if it meant Iain looking at me the way he was looking at me now, his brow lightly furrowed, his face as torturously handsome as usual, but once again unreadable in a way that drove me quietly crazy for what felt like way more than the four seconds it actually was.
But then he cracked a smile.
“I think we’ll probably have to meet to amend the terms of our agreement,” he said.
And immediately, I broke into a grin, not even trying to hide it. “Like a contract renegotiation?”
He smirked. “Something like that.”
“Perfect. I hear you’re good at those,” I said.
And for the next few seconds, our gazes lingered on each other, glowing with what I swore was the same exact excitement. For the weekend.
For the time after.
It honestly felt for a second like my heart was going to burst, but as if sensing that I needed a bit of rescue, Iain cupped my face with both his hands, bringing my mouth back to his and kissing me so softly it was like being hit with a tranquilizer.
One so strong that for the rest of the day, I felt light as a feather.
Between the drama with my mother and the night I’d had with Iain, it felt like twenty-two years’ worth of questions and burdens had been suddenly lifted from my shoulders.
And like I had even more ahead of me than I could’ve ever imagined.
29
IAIN
I was still completely swamped in the office by 9PM on Friday night. Half the lights on the floor were turned off, and I only had my lamp on, which made it feel that much later.
But on the bright side, I knew that I had the entire weekend ahead of me with Holland.
I hadn’t been able to see her yesterday after leaving her apartment in the morning, and thanks to a client emergency, I hadn’t been able to fit seeing her for just an hour during lunch.
It had made me resentful. Surly, almost.
Which I found amusing because at one point not too long ago, I had lived for these days. I’d enjoyed showing myself how well I could run on fumes. How I could get three days of work done in one with barely any sleep—not that I’d ever been much of a sleeper to begin with.
My love affair with being overworked was a Manhattan cliche, but it worked for me. It was supposed to be the life for me from now till I was dead in the ground, because for so long, when I saw my future, it was this office. My clients. The numbers. The thrill of the fast-paced competition. Beating others. Beating myself.
And on top of that, I enjoyed the control.
Aside from inking one record-breaking contract after the next, I enjoyed the challenge of managing the most unmanageable, egomaniacal figures in sports. Their larger-than-life careers depended on my careful orchestrating, which gave me the high stakes I needed to know that I’d never let myself go back. Never let myself fall back into the man I once was. It was the perfect survival plan, and for so long, this job had gotten all of me.
For so long, I was a machine.
But in the course of the past three weeks, starting from the night I’d first seen Holland waitressing at that bar, I’d begun to realize that I wasn’t in fact unstoppable. That indestructible machine.
Whether I liked it or not, there was still a shred of human left in me.
More than a shred, really, considering the fact that I was briefly gutted by Holland’s latest text.
HOLLAND: Looks like they did change the surprise brunch to a surprise beach party but it’s only at Long Beach so that’s good. They’re going to get there early to beat the crowd so at least I can make an appearance and then take the train back so we can leave for our plans by 2:30-3 :)
It was in regards to a goodbye party for her boss. And because it required her to leave for the beach early in the morning, it meant I wouldn’t be seeing her tonight.
And considering I’d be seeing her tomorrow afternoon, it shouldn’t have bothered me much.
But apparently, I’d hinged all of today’s energy to work on the idea that I’d get to see Holland at the end of the night. That I’d be able to feel the warmth of her body. Taste the sweetness of her lips. Hear the sound of her voice. Knowing now that I had to wait till tomorrow—that I was going home to an empty apartment tonight—made me somehow lose my steam and the will to keep going through my piles of work. All the mountains of analytics and data my research team had compiled in preparation of my meetings next week.
Since receiving the text, my mood had taken a nosedive. I was going to tell her to have my driver take her, but I was holding off on replying until I was in a better mood, since I’d learned my lesson on that. But within another ten minutes, she was calling.
And I answered right away.
“Hey.” I set my pen down, looking at her name on my phone.
“Hey,” she returned, the sound of her voice alone making me exhale. “I was going to ask if you were hanging in there, but I can already hear how wiped you are.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah. Just going through data reports till the call with the West Coast.”
“What time is the call?”
“Ten Eastern.”
She was quiet for a second. “Okay. So it’s nine-ten right now, and you’re probably holding yourself to your Iain Thorn standard about knowing every detail of those data reports, which means it’s feasible, for the sake of your own sanity, to take a thirty to forty-five minute break right now, because you literally haven’t stopped all day.”
I smiled at her doing the math for me. “That’s a fair assessment.”
“So you’ll do it?”
“Do what?”
“Relax for a little?”
“What would you suggest I do exactly? Breathing exercises?”
“Actually, yes. I know you’re teasing me right now, but I actually do those, and I promise you, if you breath in through your nose for four seconds, hold it for seven, then exhale through your mouth only for eight, you will immediately relax.”
I smirked. “You’re just full of all these tips and tricks, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Or you can give yourself a hand massage.”
“Holland, you can stop suggesting relaxation tactics,” I laughed. “I’m going to just keep pushing through. It’ll be fine.”
She made a sound like she was about to say something, but then she stopped, and I couldn’t help but smile at the mental image of her physically shutting herself up from trying to preach to me about the value of self-care and me time and all her favorite little rituals.
“Okay,” she finally said, but then she made an offended sound. “You just snorted at me. Why are you laughing?”
“Because you’re cute,” I said.
And I miss you, I thought, though I did my very best to sound casual and easy as we finished our conversation. She’d ended me on some customary torture by telling me that she was about to take a bath, and I had her promise to send me a picture of herself before getting in. And then we hung up.
But ten minutes went by and there was no picture.
Fifteen. Twenty.
I was on minute twenty-six of waiting when I heard the sound of faint chatter outside from one of the few agents left working in-office at this hour. From the intonation, the politeness, I knew it wasn’t someone familiar who’d just walked in.
So I paused, listening as I heard the chatter stop, replaced now by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall toward me.
I stared at my door, knowing that I was being irrational and that what I wanted was unlikely. But with what little energy I had left in me, I hung onto my fantasy, hoping and willing for it to happen.
Still, I was stunned when Holland appeared at my door.
My fantasy come to life.
Her hair was piled messily at the top of her head, pieces of shimmering blonde falling down to frame her beautiful face and that sexy little smirk.
Her white T-shirt was loose, boxy and short, its hem fl
oating several inches above her waist and the waistband of her short plaid skirt.
I didn’t try to hide the sheer awe on my face as she came over to me slowly, making me ache even more for her with her every stop closer. I just stared, unblinking, every inch of my body awake and ready for her touch by the time she rounded my desk and stopped in front of my chair.
She peered at the clock on my desk before looking back at me, breaking into a grin of fresh amusement for my helpless staring before she said, “No talking or working for the next twenty-two minutes. Think you can do it?”
I nodded. “Yes,” I answered faster than I’d answered any question in my life. “As long as you come here,” I murmured, feeling a wave of warm relief washing through me as she climbed into my lap, sitting sideways and letting her skirt flutter up her legs as she draped them across mine. A low rumble escaped my chest as she leaned against it, her head resting against my shoulder as she took my hand, using both of hers to gently knead and squeeze my palm till my eyes couldn’t help but close.
What the fuck.
How does that feel so good?
I tipped my head back as her delicate fingers pressed firmly into little pressure points I didn’t know I had. Apparently I stored tension in my hands. Never knew. Honestly, I never cared until now, because now I had Holland Maxwell sitting in my lap, quietly rubbing my hands, massaging each section of my fingers for Christ’s sake and even rubbing my forearms before working her way to my chest and my shoulders.
“Holy fuck, Holland, I—”
“No talking,” she whispered.
I gladly shut up. Sitting there, with her legs draped over my lap, I let her do whatever she wanted to me, trying my best to take in every second of how sweet she looked just resting on me, forcing me to rest too. But once her arms circled my neck and reached up into my hair, my eyes closed again because holy fuck, whatever her fingers were doing to my scalp now felt like mind-numbing goddamned heaven.
It was so relaxing I didn’t realize she’d stopped until I felt her gently rubbing my package.
I opened my eyes, blinking, staring down at her dainty hand stroking my half-hard cock fully stiff before starting to undo my belt buckle. Slowly, quietly. Like we were trying not to wake someone.
Probably for the best, I thought, only just remembering that my office door was wide open and there were still people here.
Holy shit. I had employees down the hall, my entire reputation on the line. A single stroll by my office and they’d see my door open, a little blonde sitting in my lap, playing with my rock-hard dick. It would be disastrous, and yet I couldn’t even think twice about it right now, because this felt too fucking good.
My stare heavy-lidded, all I could do was gaze down at Holland, her head still resting against my chest and her legs dangling off the side of the chair as she quietly jerked me off, like this was normal. Just something she did.
And just like that, I had fantasies of her doing this all the time. Coming into my office at night. Taking her seat on my lap, tired and sleepy as she asked about my day. I’d tell her what I was working on, what a scouting report was as she nodded along, eager to learn while stroking my dick.
Fuck.
I didn’t want this to stop. Pained, I looked at the clock, wondering how the hell it had already been sixteen minutes.
Six left to go.
It wasn’t enough time.
But just as I opened my mouth to say something, Holland slid her smooth legs off my lap, forcing me to watch unblinkingly, to hold in a groan as she got on her knees in front of me. She hadn’t even touched her lips to my dick and already, I wanted to blow my load, because she was so fucking sexy and sweet, and so insistent on taking care of me. Making me feel good.
I couldn’t help it. I had to let out a groan when she started sucking, giving long, wet pulls on my shaft, using just her pretty mouth first but then adding her hands, pieces of her hair falling out of her bun as she started going faster. Needing my view of her mouth sliding up and down my dick, I gathered her hair, holding it back, hissing under my breath as she pushed her tits against my shins while touching me to the back of her throat.
“Baby, I’m going to come,” I warned in a whisper, but she ignored me, just bobbing her head, sucking my dick quietly like such a good fucking girl.
She barely made a sound as I burst to a soundless finish on her tongue, my eyes squeezed shut, my mouth open and my eyebrows twitching through every beat of my pulsing, full-body release.
It was unreal. Euphoric.
And by the time I opened my eyes, she was up on her feet, a smile on her lips as she took me in for a few seconds.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
I was still catching my breath, my voice coming out in a rasp as I answered. “So fucking good, Holland.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” she smiled as she leaned over to kiss my cheek. “Because you’ve got a minute till the phone rings. Have a good conference call,” she said softly, her eyes sparkling with a bit of mischief on me, because as good as I felt right now, she knew the last thing I wanted was to watch her go. But I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of her if she stayed, and she knew well I needed to work.
So off she went.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she grinned over her shoulder as she headed out the door, waving goodbye in the hallway before she disappeared, and leaving me sitting alone at my desk completely mind blown.
Because fuck, this girl was out of this world.
And I was just now processing in full what she had done to me.
She’d come back into my life and turned my world on its head. Completely upside down. She made me want what I thought were the wrong things for me. Made me question every way I’d been living my life—just by being her.
Sweet little Holland Maxwell.
It wasn’t that she had become my weakness. She’d always been.
From day one. She had always been the girl my cold heart bled for. The girl I needed to protect. The only difference now was that she was back and my feelings for her had only grown, matured, to something exactly the same yet completely different. They had multiplied every day since I saw her again, and every hour since she came to find me at that party, and by now they were unstoppable. Indestructible.
Because she reminded me of the human being I was.
Of the life I could have. The life I actually wanted.
The girl was my angel.
And I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell I did to deserve her.
30
HOLLAND
I told myself, for getting-a-tan reasons, that a little beach time was exactly what I needed before officially kicking off my weekend, but thirty minutes into Freya’s goodbye party and I was already antsy to leave—which was terrible considering she’d been such a kind and generous boss to me in the two months that we’d worked together.
She even gifted you the lingerie you’re planning on wearing for Iain tonight, I thought with a smirk while lying on my back.
Which was exactly the problem, really.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Iain.
All I wanted was to start our weekend together, because after just twenty-two minutes with him in his office last night, I’d wound up sleepless, thinking about him all night.
Because something had shifted last night.
And I was always the first to tell myself I was imagining things, but I knew I’d felt it before I left yesterday. Seen it in his eyes.
I didn’t know I could put that look on a man’s face let alone Iain Thorn’s, and it made my heart want to jump out of my chest. It made me want to just be in his arms, but according to my team, Freya was going to make goodbye toasts to each and every one of us—as soon as her assistant came back with plastic cups so we could pour the champagne.
Whenever that happens.
It took long enough that I actually dozed off for a bit. Between the sun and my sleepless night, I was in need of a nap. But I g
ot about fifteen minutes of toasty shut-eye before I felt my phone ringing under me somewhere.
Patting my hands all over the towel and reaching under my back, I finally grabbed it, squinting at my screen before I picked up the call. But I didn’t even get a greeting out before Adam spoke.
“If this is payback for all the years I’ve missed your texts and calls, message received.”
I blinked. Then processed.
Crap.
Since calling him the day of the Mom drama, I hadn’t done a proper job of calling back. I had sent him pretty absent-sounding texts about being fine and promised to call at some point, but I hadn’t—not because I was in any way upset at him though.
Just because I had your best friend on my mind.
“I’m so sorry. I totally didn’t mean to ignore you like that,” I said right away, but I could hear that Adam wasn’t serious when he spoke again, because there was a smile in his voice.
“It’s fine, I deserve it. Besides, I just got confirmation from your roommate that you’re not even home. So I can at least take comfort in the fact that you weren’t shutting me out on purpose.”
“Yeah,” I said for some reason, but then I realized I didn’t understand what he’d just said. “Wait—what? You just talked to Mia?”
“Yeah. At your apartment. I’m in New York.”
Eyes wide, I paused. Then I propped myself up on my elbow. “What?”
“Surprise!” Adam laughed. “I just got here a few hours ago. I decided to come a little early.”
I blinked, stunned. And confused. Mostly because his early arrival was making me feel vaguely stressed for some reason, but I couldn’t figure out why.
“Wait. That’s amazing that you came early, but I’m at Long Beach right now for Freya’s goodbye party and… why did you come early again?”
“Because! I wanted to spend more time with you,” Adam said jovially, but then his voice got serious in a way that was rare for him. “I’ve just… look, Holland, I’ve felt like shit since everything that happened with Mom. I know I’ve been kind of an absentee brother for… awhile now, but I’ve been feeling worse about it lately, especially since you moved out on your own and I didn’t have time to talk to you enough or visit you,” he said so earnestly my heart hurt a little. “And after the whole drama with Mom this week, it just made me realize how much you’ve had to deal with on your own. Your whole life, really. It isn’t fair but it’s never been. And I just want to finally pick up the slack, you know?”
