Chapter 53 Holland
HOLLAND
For the twentieth time, I cleaned my house, waiting to hear from Kip about how the meeting went.
I knew him well enough to know he needed a little extra time to process whatever went down, but my nerves were shot.
If it weren’t for Dog trailing me everywhere, his tail thumping against my leg as he waited for pets, I’m not sure I could have managed the anxiety.
My cell vibrated against the granite countertop, and I nearly jumped over and cleared the island in an attempt to grab it. I groaned as I saw the call wasn’t from Kip. I picked it up and answered the FaceTime.
“Hey, Mom and Dad. How’s your trip?” I grinned at them as they came into view, the view of two large swimming pools behind them.
I tried to sound perky and act as if my world hadn’t imploded in the two weeks they’d been gone.
My smile was real for them, but just below the surface, I was splintering, waiting for Kip.
“We’re driving home tomorrow, honey. It’s been wonderful.” Mom adjusted her sun hat as she gave Dad a kiss on the cheek. “It’s exactly what we needed.”
“I’m so happy to hear that.”
Mom seemed more relaxed than I’d seen her in years, so something must have gone right. I didn’t miss the look in Dad’s eyes though as I realized he wanted an update.
“How are you?” he asked, his bushy gray brow arching slightly.
“I’m good. Life seems to be settling in nicely. Work is going well and—” My words cut off as Dog bounded onto the couch, smothering my face with wet kisses. Laughing, I wiped the drool from my cheek.
“Whose dog is that?” Mom asked.
I bit my lower lip. “I met someone. It’s his dog. Well, ours.”
Mom’s mouth dropped open, and she nudged Dad. “Did you hear that? She’s met someone!” She turned back to me. “Tell us everything. What’s his name? Where did you meet? What’s he do?”
Mom’s barrage of questions had me giggling.
“His name is Kip. We met at Velvet Vortex.” There was no way I could tell Mom where we’d really met, but I could give Dad the full story when I had time.
He’d be relieved to know that Kip had helped handle Cooper too.
As far as the Pied Piper, I wanted to keep my real parents out of it and as safe as possible.
Just because I shared blood with a maniac didn’t mean he was a parent. Far from it.
“Isn’t that the ritzy restaurant and club located downtown?” Dad asked.
“It is. He’s part owner.”
“How old is he?” both asked in unison.
“We’re the same age.” I made a mental note to ask Kip when his birthday was.
Our conversation continued as we made plans to all have dinner together. I hadn’t asked Kip how he felt about meeting my parents, but I could push out the meeting if I needed to.
Once we said our goodbyes and disconnected the call, I blew out a sigh, my mind returning to Kip again. Seconds later, my doorbell rang, and my heart launched into my throat. For a single awful second, I thought it might be someone else, but then I saw him.
I flipped the bolt and my eyes landed on him. Before he could say a word, I grabbed Kip’s wrist and pulled him inside, closing the door behind him. I threw my arms around him, and he wrapped his around my waist, pulling me against him.
“Are you all right?” I asked, my question muffled against his neck. “I’ve been so worried.”
“It’s a mixed bag, babe. Death stormed off, but Dope and Ella understood.”
I released him, my palms dragging down his muscular chest. “I’m sorry. I think he’ll come around though. I mean, you guys have all been so close for so long.”
Fear and sadness flashed across Kip’s face. “I’ll do everything I can to help heal that friendship, but I also need to look ahead … with you. You’re my main focus for the rest of tonight.”
“I’ll take it.” I tilted my head and kissed him softly, his touch sending shivers through me. “Are you hungry?”
“Not for food,” he growled against my mouth. “But I could use a break from everything.” He nudged my ear with the tip of his nose.
A loud bark shot me out of my skin, and Kip chuckled.
“Hey, Dog.” He turned and knelt, giving Dog a dose of love.
“He’s missed you.” I smiled as Dog’s tail wagged, his back feet skipping across the floor.
“I need to check his food and water while you two hang out.” I squeezed Kip’s shoulder as I walked past him and into the kitchen.
Apparently, I’d been so distracted while cleaning that I hadn’t even checked on Dog’s kibbles.
Kip continued to talk to his pet until Dog heard the kibbles hit the bowl, then he practically knocked his owner on the floor to get to his dinner.
“Are you starving my dog, Holland?” A lazy grin slipped into place as Kip took the bag of food and put it in the cabinet, safe from Dog breaking into it later when we weren’t looking.
He placed his hands on my waist and walked me backward until my back hit the refrigerator. “I need to touch you and know what we have is real.”
Kip’s mouth crashed onto mine, his hunger raw and insatiable, as if he’d been wandering in a desert and I was the first drop of rain. He gripped my shoulders, pushing me back against the refrigerator. The cold metal hummed against my shoulder blades, seeping through the thin fabric of my T-shirt.
His calloused palm pressed against the hollow of my throat as his tongue explored my mouth. I could feel his pulse, his urgency, like an electric current surging through my body, so intense it could have lit up the room.
His hand, rough and eager, slid under my shirt, tracing the sensitive skin along my hip, my waist, the curve where my ribs swept down. My head fell back as I let him explore every inch of me, his touch sending waves of heat through me.
I clung to his shirtsleeves, fingers digging into the fabric like I was holding on for dear life.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “God, Holland, you have no idea what you do to me.”
I kissed him back, tugging at his hair, tracing his jaw, gripping his collar. We had spent the day stressed and worried, and now we were unraveling, our bodies pressing together with an almost violent intensity.
His fingers grazed my stomach as he found the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head and down my arms. He roamed my body, the cool air from the fridge making my nipples harden beneath my bra. He groaned, his mouth finding the valley between my breasts, teeth grazing the scratchy fabric.
“Bedroom,” I managed to gasp. “Come with me—”
He lifted me off the floor with a grunt, his fingers digging into my thighs.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling every step he took vibrate through me. I could feel his heart pounding, his lips hot on my neck, and his hard cock through his jeans.
The bedroom door slammed open, then shut behind us. He fell onto the bed, pinning me to the mattress with his weight. The ceiling fan whirred above us, stirring the warm, still air. My hands traveled over his biceps, his back, pulling at his shirt. I needed to feel his skin, to feel him.
“You drive me crazy, Holland,” he said, his voice breaking. “I—fuck, I love you. I love you so much it’s killing me.”
I tugged his tee over his head, revealing his heaving chest, freckles scattered across his shoulders, muscles taut. His hair was tousled, wild, and his eyes were dark with desire.
He knelt above me, his gaze tracing over every inch. Then he was on me again, his hands and mouth exploring, worshipping.
My bra snapped open, the straps sliding down my shoulders, exposing me to the air. He looked at my breasts like they were a revelation, his mouth finding one nipple, sucking gently, then harder, drawing a gasp from deep within me.
My thighs clenched, and my pussy responded to his touch.
Kip licked and sucked each breast, my back arching off the bed as I threaded my fingers through his hair. I fumbled with the button and his zipper, freeing his thick, hard cock.
I needed him inside me, claiming me, and fucking me until the rest of the world no longer mattered. Nothing else mattered except the two of us.
Kip moved with purpose, kicking free of his jeans, his boxers, his socks. He was all lean, hard muscle, his body a road map of scars and old wounds, every single one a testament to his stubbornness, his refusal to give up.
He loomed over me, his gaze dark with hunger, lips wet and parted.
His attention slowly traveled over me, taking in every inch of exposed skin, every shiver and twitch.
He bit his lower lip, like he was trying to contain everything he felt, but I could see the need in his expression, in the white-knuckle clench of his fists.
I reached for him, pulled him down, felt the press of his cock hot and heavy against my thigh. He groaned into my mouth, hands cradling my face as if he was afraid that I would disappear.
“I want you so bad it hurts,” he said, the words muffled by my lips. “I think about you all the goddamn time.”
“Show me,” I whispered.
He slid down my body, pushing my panties aside with a single, reverent sweep of his fingers. He spread me with his thumbs, staring at my pussy like it was some sacred text he’d only learned to read. Then he ducked his head and licked a slow, deliberate stripe up my slit.
I gasped, the sensation sharp and electric. He circled my clit with the tip of his tongue, then sucked it into his mouth, rolling it between his lips. I writhed beneath him, thighs shaking, grasping the sheets. Every nerve inside me was a live wire.
He licked me until I was panting his name, until my hips bucked up off the mattress and I begged him for more. He slid two fingers inside me, curling them just right, hitting the spot that sent stars exploding across my vision.
Kip was relentless, his mouth and hands working in perfect tandem, coaxing me toward the brink. I came hard, my body shaking with the force of it.
He didn’t stop. He licked me through it, until I was limp and weak, sweat breaking out across my forehead. He crawled up the bed, his chin slick with my orgasm, and kissed me deep. I tasted myself on his tongue and moaned.
“God, Holland,” he said, pulling back to look at me. “You’re fucking incredible.”
I wanted him inside me, needed it so much it almost hurt. I grabbed his cock, guiding him to my entrance. He hesitated, just for a second, like he wanted to memorize how I looked in that moment.
“Are you sure?” he asked, gently.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
He pushed in, slow and steady, filling me inch by perfect inch.
The stretch was exquisite, a burn that bordered on pain before melting into pleasure.
He braced himself on his forearms, forehead pressed to mine, his breath mingling with mine as he bottomed out.
We stayed like that for a moment, locked together, hearts pounding in sync.
My back arched off the mattress as he slid in slow and steady, his cock stretching me wide, each stroke drawing a hot ribbon of fire through my core. My muscles clenched around him, hungry for every inch, every slick thrust that slammed me open.
His eyes locked on mine—intense, determined, like he was sculpting something out of flesh and heat.
He sank so deep I could feel the tip of him pressing against the soft spot I’d never known existed, and a moan slipped out of me.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, digging my heels into the curve of his hips to pull him closer.
He groaned, jaw tight, the tremor in his voice betraying the effort he made not to come too fast.
“Jesus Christ, Holland,” he panted against my collarbone. “You’re so—so fucking perfect.” He bit down on my pulse point, marking me with his teeth before burying his face in the nape of my neck.
One arm braced him on the edge of the bed, knuckles white against the headboard, while the other moved over my ribs, kneading upward until his fingers found my breast. His thumb curved onto my nipple and rolled it between skin and sweat in time with his thrusts.
My fingernails scored tiny red arcs along his spine, hunting for purchase as wave after wave of pleasure battered me. I felt the damp warmth of our bodies together, the slickness making every angle and movement more acute, more electric.
He shifted his hand lower, brushing my inner thigh before slipping between my folds to seek my clit. When he landed on it, he circled with firm, unrelenting strokes.
My vision blurred and my moans turned into cries. He pulled back just enough to watch me, then slammed back in, hard and fast, as if determined to destroy the world around us with this one collision of flesh.
I came apart around him—fast and loud—my muscles seizing, heat crashing through me like molten metal.
My tears streamed down my face, and I tasted the salt of them when he kissed me, his tongue sweeping mine, mirroring the rhythm of his cock.
My body shook so violently it rattled the rails, and I felt him shudder as I milked him through my orgasm.
He stilled inside me, his release flooding me until I tasted him warm and heady. He collapsed beside me, arm thrown over my waist, pulling me flush against him. His palm trailed across my hipbone in a slow, gentle caress as he tried to calm the racing of his heart.
Above us, the ceiling fan whirred, its lazy sweep barely stirring the humidity in the air. He pressed a series of soft kisses across my temple and cheek, his lips landing on my jaw as if memorizing every curve.
“I love you,” he whispered so quietly I almost missed it, the words fragile, like they needed my promise to believe them.
I curled into him, breathing in the faint scent of sweat and clove from his shampoo. “I love you too,” I said, my words muffled but steady.
He laughed—warm, relieved—and tightened his grip. We lay tangled around each other, the aftermath of our bodies slowing down as the fan overhead cast spinning shadows on the walls. After a while, I drifted off to sleep.
When I woke, gold light slanted across the bed, turning every particle of dust into a drifting constellation. Kip propped himself on one elbow, his hair messy, eyes soft with awe. He reached out to brush a strand of hair from my forehead.
“You’re even more beautiful than the first time I saw you,” he murmured, voice thick with something like wonder.
I smiled, reaching up to touch his jaw. “But now I’m all yours.
You own my heart, Kip.” I nipped at his lower lip, my chest threatening to burst just from looking at him.
If anyone had asked me a year ago what I thought my life would look like, I never would have guessed that the boy who’d saved me would finally come home … to me.