Smoking Holt (14 page)

She’d never felt so completely
…possessed
.

And her orgasm? It had been sublime.

It seemed illogical, incomprehensible, that each one could get better, stronger, more profound. But they did.

After the passion waned, he released her and kissed the little marks on her wrists and ankles and legs. Then he gently turned her over and caressed her still-burning ass. With a practiced hand, he soothed her, brought her back into the world.

A world that, all of a sudden, didn’t seem so bleak.

They fell asleep in
each others’ arms, wrapped together in a bed that was far too small for both of them.

They
awoke sometime in the night and made love again, gently, tenderly. This time she explored him—everywhere—wreathed in sighs and whispers and deep-throated moans.

She loved that she could make him beg too.

The morning was half gone when Holt finally woke up. Though his neck ached from sleeping on his side all night—or half of it, as the case may have been—Holt didn’t move. He liked the feel of Bella’s bare ass pressed against his cock far too much.

He liked everything about her. Her soft curves, her grumpy frowns, her snarls.
Especially in bed.

He nearly laughed at the thought, but didn’t. He didn’t want to wake her.

She’d been amazing last night, submitting to his every command and then taking it a step further. The feel of her lips wrapped around his dick had been un-fucking-believable.

Despite his determination not to disturb her, his arms tightened and she stirred. She rolled over slowly to face him.

Ah. She was awake.

Her eyes
were like dark pools, a stunning azure, wreathed in thick black lashes. She studied him without saying a word, and then she reached up and stroked his cheek. “Fuzz,” she commented.

He watched her lips move, and, because he couldn’t not, kissed her.

“Morning,” he said. His voice was scratchy. Probably on account of all the howling and growling he’d done last night, fisting the sheets as she fisted his shaft, lapped around his sensitive head then drew him deep into her—

Yeah. He was hard again.

She smiled as his cock nudged her hip. “Morning Lambchop.”

He grimaced
through a grin. “Don’t call me that. I’m not a sock puppet.”

“You could be my sock puppet.” She stilled as the words slipped out. Something flickered across her expression. It looked like retreat.

He knew Bella. She wasn’t a runner, but she did close up when things got a little too intimate. A little too raw.

Hell no.

She wasn’t retreating. He couldn’t allow it.

He couldn’t bear to lose her now, not even a bit of her.
They’d come too far.

Last night had been everything he’d ever dreamed
of. He wanted nothing more than a lifetime of “last nights.”

He yanked her against him and kissed her again. She allowed it, but pulled away too soon.

“We should get dressed.” She said it breezily, though he noticed the tiny lines around her mouth.

“
No, Bella. We should talk.”

She froze, halfway out of bed,
and then sat by his side. He shifted onto his back. Cracked his neck to ease the tightness.

“What-what do you want to talk about?”

“Us. This. I think we should.” Hell, everyone would be arriving today. There wouldn’t be much chance for a private chat. Especially once all the girls arrived. They were like a flock of birds when they were all together, chirping away, flying in formation. It would be the guys on one side of the room talking about sports or cars and the girls on the other talking about—whatever it was they talked about. Make up. Or shoes.

That’s the way i
t always was.

He didn’t want things to be the way they’d always been between them. Not anymore.

“Okay.” She folded her hands, making her look like a schoolgirl waiting for the professor’s instruction.

He shuttled that image away.
If he went in that direction, they’d never get to talking.

“Bella.” He
toyed with the ends of her long hair, unsure what to say. He was tempted to let his body say it for him, but that was the coward’s way out. Besides, she might misunderstand. Might miss the depth of his meaning. Better to just come out and say it. “I…like this.”

Damn. Like wasn’t the word he meant.

But he didn’t dare use
that
word. Not yet. Too soon. He didn’t want to scare her off.

She swallowed. Glanced at him, though he could tell it was an effort for her to hold his gaze. “I…like it too.”

“Even the part where I tied you up?”

Her expression flickered.

Shit. He shouldn’t have joked. This was no joking matter.

He cleared his throat and began again. “I would really like to continue…exploring…things.”

Her lips tweaked. Shyly. “Even the part where I tie
you
up?”

His heart
stopped. Not because he was turned on at the thought—though he was, maybe, a little—but because of the warmth, the openness, the acceptance in her eyes. It was what he wanted to see. What he needed to see.

“Wher
ever it takes us.” His voice cracked a little. “I’ve always…had a…thing for you.” He stroked her shoulder, her back, her hip. She edged closer.

“
See, I was sure you had a thing for Kristi.” She blew out a breath and studied her laced fingers. “I saw you kiss her, you know.”

He blanched. “You saw me kiss her?”

“Last month. The last time we were all here together.”

Oh.
Crap.

He
forced a laugh. “Did you see Cam deck me?”

“What?”

“Oh, yeah. Right in the kisser. I was drunk. I shouldn’t have done it.”

“You shouldn’t have done it because you were drunk? Or you shouldn’t have done it, period?”

“Period. She wasn’t the one I wanted to kiss, anyway.”

“She wasn’t?”

“No.” He drew her closer. “But I gave up on you long ago. Figured I’d never have a chance.”

She sighed.
Smiled. A little. “I am difficult.”

“
You…can be. But it wasn’t that.” He winked. “I kind of like that.”

“Then why?”

The words caught in his throat. God, it was hard to say. “I always…had the sense you disliked me.” It had torn him up, that hint of distain in her expression.

“I
disliked seeing you with other women. Always. Incessantly.”

Her
vulnerability gored him, but he loved that she trusted enough to share it with him. He swore to himself, then and there, he would never, ever let her down. He put his palm over his heart. “As long as we are together Bella, and this I swear, I will not so much as look at another woman.”

She issued a snort of disbelief
. “You have to look at them. Or you’ll bump into them.”

“Do I have your permission to look at them
then?” He batted his lashes. “You know. So I won’t bump into them?”

Her
lips worked. “D-do you require my permission?”

“Yes
, Bella.” Hell. His heart required her permission to beat, if she only knew it. He cleared his throat. “If you so command it, darling, I will close my eyes and stumble around, feeling my way like a blind man who’s lost his cane.”

She thought about this for a moment,
tapping on her lower lip. The minx. “No,” she said after a long, long while. “I think you should look where you’re going.” He collapsed in mock relief and she grinned. “Because God only knows where those flailing hands might land.”

He snorted a laugh. “Boobs.” A prediction, but not really.

She waggled her finger at him. “No boobs for you. Only these boobs.” She thrust them forward.

“Yes ma’am
.” He levered up and took advantage of the bounty, drawing a berry-ripe nipple into his mouth until she threw back her head and raked his scalp with needy claws.

He loved playing with her—the teasing and joking…and this. She tasted delicious.

And his cock was hard.

He eased her down by his side and focused on the soft bounty of her breasts, cupping and exploring and tormenting himself at length. He wanted more. So much more.

But their conversation wasn’t over.

“Holt?”

“Hmm?”

“So while we, ah, explore this, we agree to be monogamous?” Why she said it as a question was a mystery. There was no doubt whatsoever in his mind.

“Mmm hmm.” He lifted his head as a thought struck him. “And no other guys for you. Right?”

She made a face. “As if.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Ash was panting over you hot and heavy.”

“Pfft.” She flicked her hand dismissively. “His hair is too short.”

Holt growled at the back of his throat. “A man can grow his hair.”

“Too blond. Like, surfer dude much?”

“A guy can dye his hair.”

“All right. Fine. Do you know what’s wrong with Ash?”

“What?” He anticipated her answer on bated breath. And damn. Was it a good answer.

“He’s not you. That’s what’s wrong with Ash. There’s nobody quite like Holt
Lamm.” She pulled his head down for another kiss. And then, just before their lips met, whispered, “Chop.”

The kiss lasted for a long time, and left them both breathless. W
hen Bella was a limp noodle in his arms, pliable and subdued, as he held her and idly stroked her hair, he decided to tackle the other issue that had been bugging him.

“And Bella?”

“Mmm?”

“
The smoking?”

She
leaned up on an elbow and looked down at him. “Yeah?”

“That has to stop.”

“I know.” She frowned. “But I warn you, I might get cranky.”

His expression made it clear
…no one would probably notice the difference. “I know it won’t be easy, but sweetheart, if you ever want a cigarette, just let me know.” He bit back a grin. “I’d be happy to give you something else to suck on.”

“Really?”
She arched a brow. “Because I kind of want a cigarette now.”

Which was exactly what he
was hoping she’d say.

Twenty-One Days Later

“Are you okay?” Holt’s breath skated over Bella’s cheek, sending a shiver through her. She arched her back and readjusted her arm. It was starting to ache. He’d had her tied in this position for a while. Everything ached. Her nipples, her clit, her ass. Especially her ass.

Was she okay?

She was wonderful.

“Yes Sir.”

“Good girl.” His fingers played along her spine and she sighed. Warmth dribbled through her.
Odd how this had happened. She was never happier than she was with him. And her ass hurt.

Holt was the most creative lover she’d ever known. The sexiest man. The most tender heart. He’d shown her that, over and over again in the past few weeks. Shown her how much he cared. Shown her what she’d been missing.

She didn’t want to miss it any more.

Every time with him had been phenomenal, whether it was sweet and sexy or kinky as hell. She’d
particularly loved his training sessions.

She wanted this every
day. Always. She wanted to be his.

Oh, she was still a brat. He would probably never train that out of her. And she suspected he wouldn’t want to.

Holt loved her for who she was.

And she loved him.

Completely.

“How are those cravings
, darling?”

Bella blinked as his
soft question wrenched her from her dreamy reverie. She nibbled at her lower lip. “Cravings?”she asked, though she knew what he was talking about.

H
e chuckled. “You haven’t mentioned cigarettes in a while.”

It had been twenty one days since her last cigarette. Twenty one days, three hours and seventeen minutes. And oddly enough, she didn’t want one. Hadn’t wanted one for days. Not even when he mentioned them.

Glancing over her shoulder, she fixated meaningfully on his crotch. “Oh,” she quipped, “does someone need a blowjob?” She was careful to use a playful, pouty voice and though a light flared in his eyes, his expression darkened.

“What did I tell you about that attitude
, missy?”

She loved the way his low voice rumbled around her.
Loved the skitter of excitement dancing through her veins. “Sorry.”