Chapter 21
DEXTER
“Hope you didn’t start without me,” I call when I stroll into Holly’s apartment after a quick shower and change of clothes at my place.
She walks out in that same white robe. Bare legs, bare feet, hair slightly damp. My dick pulses with every step she takes until she halts in front of me.
“You’re in a good mood,” she says with a smile.
“Work went well, and now I’m here. Hard not to be.”
I wrap an arm around her waist, already drawing her in. My mouth’s halfway to hers before she plants a hand on my chest.
“Slow down,” she says. “You’re skipping ‘hello.’”
I lean in and brush my lips over hers. “That was hello.”
Her smile melts away as she pulls me closer and kisses me back. She wants this. My hands slide under her robe, expecting lace. Maybe silk.
Instead: nothing. Just skin.
I glance down, take her in, and back up. “We’re making progress.”
She breathes a laugh against my neck. Her body comes alive under my hands. Goosebumps rise as I kiss down to her collarbone.
“But progress doesn’t come without a price,” I grumble, sliding the robe off her shoulders and throwing it somewhere behind me.
“A price?” Her voice is breathless. “You say that as if I hadn’t already decided I was worth it.”
“I never doubted that,” I rumble. “I doubted my ability to keep my head straight.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You look calm as ever.”
Her fingers find my belt.
The next thing I know she’s on her knees, looking up at me.
I pause. And inhale slowly before she takes me in her mouth.
I allow it for a second, nothing more.
A second.
No. Not longer than a single second.
Maybe two.
Okay, I let her set the pace, both hands braced on the back of her head. Every single nerve is on edge. In a blink my shirt is gone, my hands are in her hair, and I’m barely holding on.
“Holly…” It’s not even a warning.
She pulls back, breath ragged, lips wet.
I catch her chin and rest my forehead against hers, collecting myself, cutting it off before instinct wins. I enjoy losing myself in a girl’s throat as much as the next guy, but not tonight. Tonight has a purpose. If she keeps going like that, we lose the point entirely.
I haul her to her feet. My mouth finds her throat, my hands cupping the curve of her ass, gripping her hips, sliding up her sides. That cherry shower gel hits my nostrils. Her breath is uneven, and she presses into me, hips urging, fingers biting into my shoulders.
“I know we said the bedroom,” I rasp, kissing down along her perfect tits, biting just enough to make her twitch.
“Yes, ow… We did.”
“We’re not making it.”
“Too far?”
“Miles gone, baby.”
I lift her, pin her hard to the wall, and take her mouth. The kiss turns rough and hungry fast. She squeaks in surprise, wrapping her legs around my waist, giving me sweet, sweet room to settle perfectly between her legs.
“You’re…” she murmurs, low and breathless, hips moving because she can’t help it, “…killing me…”
Her body says the rest without a single word.
She’s soaked. The evidence is there every time she moves against me.
This isn’t about duty, and it’s not about a plan. She wants this. She has been thinking about us. Just like I have.
I don’t enter her, not yet. I hold her firm, tilt her just enough to let myself slide against her clit, leaving her panting within seconds. Her breath stutters, her head falls back, and I do it again.
She’s latched onto me, breathless, a shaking mess in my hands.
I’m quickly becoming addicted to this, to her.
“Dexter.”
There it is, the change in the tone of her voice. She’s right there, close. Too close. I ease the pressure, slow it down, tease her with just enough friction to make her tremble, without letting her tip. Her hips keep asking for more.
When I draw back a fraction, I meet her gaze. Those wide, hazel eyes, glazed with urgency, are fixed on me.
“Can I be rough?”
She nods. Yes.
That’s all I need.
I feel her let go and completely surrender to my touch. Tonight, she’s mine.
And I’m already hers.
I thrust into her.
Hard.
So fucking hard. Rough, deep.
A cry rips from her throat. Her arms and legs lock around me, dragging me closer until there’s nothing between us but heat, rhythm, need, and the ache driving us together.
“You were made for my cock,” I growl, feeling every movement, every desperate arching of her back. “Made for me.”
Her lips curve. It’s pure Holly. Sass wrapped in contentment.
I fuck her without hesitation, every thrust harder than the last. I don’t hold back. Nothing in me could, even if I wanted to. She’s taking it all, rising to meet me again and again until neither of us is thinking, just moving, trying to satisfy a hunger neither of us bothers to slow.
“Careful,” I grumble, “or Daddy’s going to get used to this.”
She snorts, and I know if her hands weren’t busy clinging to me, she’d be smacking my shoulder. Instead, she tilts her head up, eyes a little too bright. Yeah. That’s what I wanted.
“This is exactly what we need,” I tell her between kisses, thrusting into her, tightening my hold. “You right here, with me, looking at me. That’s enough. Nothing else matters right now.”
I can’t stop kissing her, don’t want our lips to part, my heartbeat hammering where our chests meet, thudding like it’s trying to punch its way out of my ribs. I won’t be able to breathe if I let her go.
She explodes in my arm. Her whole body clenches, every muscle tenses, and she lets go with a desperate moan.
I don’t stop. I keep moving, her muscles gripping me, pulling me under with her.
When I come, I come hard. Relief, release, all of it, tears through me, wave after wave. My muscles lock. My skin is on fire, and I stay right there crushed against her. Every drop of me pours into her until I’m drained against her, muscles burning, skin hot.
By the time my body starts to ease, I’m still inside her, shaking, hanging on with whatever strength I’ve got left, unwilling to let go a second sooner than I have to.
Our heavy breathing is the only sound we can make.
I stay close. My hands around her, lips brushing hers, her cheek, her jaw, her neck, anywhere I can reach without letting her go.
Holly spears her fingers into my hair and tenderly kisses me back.
When she lets go, my hair falls into my eyes.
She brushes it aside, but it falls back and she smiles, letting it.
Her fingers slide down, and over the stubble along my jaw.
I don’t move. I just look at her, hold her gaze for a few beautiful seconds.
With a deep breath and a satisfied sigh, I hoist her over my shoulder and haul her caveman-style to the bathroom.
Because, one: She can barely stand. Because, two: I like it this way.
After we clean up, I throw her back over my shoulder and carry her out the same way I brought her in. Caveman rules. She squeals in delight all the way back to the bedroom, until I lower her onto the bed. Before I can even lie down properly, she curls into me, using my chest as her personal pillow.
We settle in, and her fingers trace idle patterns across my skin while I stroke her hair and let out a grunt that says I’m good with it.
She lifts her head and gives me a lazy smile. “You sound pleased with yourself.”
“Tell me you didn’t enjoy it.”
“Wow. We’re back to complimenting your cock already?”
“Careful,” I warn. “Bold words from a woman still walking funny. And acting it, too.”
Her laugh spills out. “I can’t help it, my brain won’t stop.”
I take a moment. “Won’t stop… what?”
She pushes her hair back, eyes shining. “Everything. Seeing Shelby again, packing, the move, the new place. My head’s full of lists and ideas, and I can’t switch it off.”
Right.
The fucking move.
Somewhere between the first night and the second, I’d forgotten this thing had an expiration date. I knew she was leaving. That was the deal. But it still hits different hearing it out loud. Especially like that, like it’s already done.
I swallow the reaction and keep my voice even. “As long as you don’t leave it all to the last minute like everything else, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“Hey! I don’t leave everything to the last minute.”
I raise a brow.
“And definitely not something as big as moving to a different country.”
“A week before you go, you’ll be running around like a headless chicken,” I say. “I’ll check back when you’re stuffing boxes at midnight the night before your flight.”
She giggles and tucks herself further into the pillows. “Probably. But I’ll try to be better. Scout’s honor.”
I grab her hand and kiss her fingertips. I’m on my feet a second later, reaching for my clothes.
She watches me, those big hazel eyes suddenly a little too wide. “You’re not staying?”
“Nah. Early meeting tomorrow,” I say, grabbing my jeans. “Need some sleep.”
The truth is something I don’t say out loud: falling asleep next to her again? Bad idea. It was nice the first time. More than it should have been. And I can’t afford to get used to that kind of nice. We’re not together. I come and go when I want, and so does she.
“Oh. Okay.” She nods, slowly at first. But then, classic Holly, she pivots. “In the spirit of ‘trying harder,’ how about tomorrow night?”
Tomorrow night? This girl sure is keeping me busy, but I’ve got the rescheduled meet-up with the guys locked in for tomorrow night.
“Sure,” I say. “I can do that.”
I lean down to kiss her goodbye. I meant to go for the forehead, to keep the line clear, to keep it safe. Instead, I go for her mouth.
It’s pure instinct.
Holly doesn’t object or pull away. She kisses me back, as though we’ve said goodbye like this a hundred times before. And damn if that doesn’t rattle me.
I pause, lips still brushing hers.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she whispers when I draw back.
“Looking forward to it, doll face.”