Chapter 11
Eleven
Stud
The storm brings down inches of snow like when I was a kid in Ohio.
North Carolina mountains get plenty of snow, but this blizzard was unexpected.
Two days together in this small space together, I’m surprised I haven’t gone stir crazy.
Then again, I’m enjoying my company and truly relaxing in this space with her.
The first thing I register when I wake is the quiet.
Then the warmth.
Holley is still asleep on the couch—soft breaths, tangled hair, wrapped in my blanket like she belongs in it. The sight hits me low and hard. I didn’t mean to watch her sleep last night, but hell, something about the peace on her face made it impossible to walk away.
She finally slept.
That’s all I wanted.
I slip toward the bathroom, giving her the rest she damn well deserves, and turn the shower on hot.
Steam fills the stall fast, curling along the ceiling.
I step under the spray, letting the heat crash over me, loosening muscles I didn’t even know were tight.
My hands rake through my hair as I tilt my face up into the water.
I’m just starting to wake up when I feel it.
A prickle—awareness—like I’m being watched.
I turn slowly.
She’s standing in the doorway.
Bare feet. My blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Hair messy from sleep and eyes… fixed on me—wide, sleepy, hungry in a way she tries to hide but can’t.
Her gaze drops.
Yeah. That’s right, sweetheart.
A slow smirk spreads across my face. “See something you like, Holley?”
Color blooms across her cheeks, but she doesn’t move. Doesn’t deny it. Her fingers tighten on the blanket, knuckles pressing white fabric.
I take a step closer inside the shower, water running down my chest. “You keep staring at me like that, baby, and I’m gonna think you’re enjoying the view.”
Her mouth parts, breath hitching. Damn, I love that sound.
“Tony,” she whispers back, like she’s trying to warn me—or herself.
Too late.
I drag my palm covered in a soapy lather down my chest, muscles flexing on purpose now. If she’s going to look, I’m giving her something to look at. “If you want something,” I murmur, voice dropping into that low register that always slips out around her, “come get it.”
Her eyes fly up to mine.
I hold her there. No pressure. No pushing. Just invitation.
Holy hell, the way her chest rises—slow, shaking slightly—tells me everything.
She drops the blanket.
It pools at her feet without a sound. She slips out of her oversized sweat pants and tank top before sliding out of her black satin panties.
For a moment, I forget how to breathe.
She stands there in nothing. Vulnerable. Soft.
Mine? Maybe not yet. But God, she could be.
Her voice is barely audible. “You sure?”
I grip the shower frame, heat licking through every vein in my body as my cock hardens at the beauty in front of me. “Holley, baby… if you step in here with me, I’m not gonna pretend I don’t want you.” My tone deepens, rough with honesty. “But I’ll take this slow. Your pace. You call every shot.”
That’s all it takes.
She moves toward me.
One step.
Then another.
My pulse pounds as she climbs into the shower, water misting her skin. Her shirt clings instantly, turning sheer as it molds to her curves. She shivers—not from cold, but from nerves—and I close the distance, brushing my knuckles along her jaw.
“Look at you,” I murmur. “Sexy.”
A small, breathy laugh escapes her. “I don’t feel sexy.”
“You walked straight into the shower with a man who can’t stop thinking about you. That counts as something.”
Her hands lift, tentative at first, touching my stomach like she’s testing whether I’m real. The sensation sends a heavy pull low in my abdomen. I slide an arm around her waist, guiding her under the water with me.
The moment the spray hits her, she gasps. Water runs down her throat, over the swell of her breasts.
She tilts her head back to look at me—and that’s it.
I kiss her.
Hungry, aching, all of the tension firing all at once. She answers me instantly, fingers curling into my shoulders, pulling me closer. Her lips are soft, warm, yielding, but her kiss, her kiss has heat she doesn’t know how to hide.
“God, Holley,” I groan against her mouth.
She presses her body to mine, and the feel of her— soft curves, her nipples peaking against me—makes restraint a damn challenge.
My hands slide down to her thighs. “Jump,” I whisper.
She does.
Her legs wrap around my waist, water cascading over both of us as I brace her against the tile. Her breath trembles against my neck. My cock is hard, aching even, pressed perfectly between us.
“You’re killing me,” she whispers.
I nip her lower lip, gentle but possessive. “You started it, standing there staring like you wanted to devour me.”
She hides her face in my shoulder, laughing breathlessly. I tilt her chin up, making her meet my eyes.
“Don’t hide. Not from me.”
Her pupils blow wide, and she kisses me again—slow this time, exploring, learning me. Her hands roam my back, nails scraping lightly, making me hiss.
I slide one hand up her spine. The noise she makes is pure sweetness. When I cup her ass, lifting her higher, she moans softly into my mouth.
“I want…” she says, trailing off like she’s afraid of the words.
I run my thumb across her cheek. “Tell me.”
“I want you.”
Every muscle in my body tightens. “Then you have me.”
The shower pours around us, hot water steaming, filling the space with heat and breath and the sound of her stifled moans. My touches grow bolder—her thighs, the slope of her waist, the soft underside of her breast through the wet shirt.
“Tony,” She shivers.
I grin wickedly. “You want it, baby?”
She nods. She’s flushed, water beading across her bare skin, nipples tight, curves soft and perfect.
“Fuck,” I breathe. “You’re beautiful.”
Her breath hitches at the hunger in my voice.
I lower my head, kissing her collarbone, her shoulder, the swell of her breast. When my mouth closes around her nipple, she gasps, fingers threading into my hair.
Her body arches.
Her hips rock.
And I’m gone—completely undone by the way she responds to me.
Her back hits the tile gently as I press closer, grinding against her slow, deep, torturously controlled because I want her begging before I take her.
“Tony, please,” she whispers.
I lift my head, thumb brushing her swollen lower lip. “Please what, baby?”
She trembles. “Touch me.”
I grin. “Oh, I plan to.”
But just as my hand trails lower, ready to give her exactly what she’s begging for… the water sputters.
Pressure changes.
And then… Ice-cold water blasts out of the showerhead.
Holley shrieks, curling into me as the water turns brutally glacial.
I burst out laughing, even as I grab her and yank both of us out of the spray. “Okay, okay, that’s my bad, should have thought about the temps outside and the water heater keeping up.”
She’s laughing too, shivering and clinging to me. Still wrapped around me in the best way. “Oh my god, that was—”
“Dramatic much?” I offer.
“Traumatizing,” she corrects, teeth chattering as I set her on her feet.
I wrap her in a towel, pulling her against my chest. “Then we’d better warm you up again, huh?”
Her eyes soften, heat returning even as she shivers. “Yeah,” she breathes. “We better.”
I lean down picking her up again and carry her out of the bathroom—dripping, laughing, wrapped up in me—and every step feels like crossing into something new.
Her bare legs wrap instinctively around my hips, her skin warm against mine despite the cold shower mishap.
Every breath she takes brushes against my throat, shaky, wanting.
“Tony…” she whispers, and the sound alone is enough to unravel every ounce of restraint I thought I had left.
“Yeah, baby,” I murmur into her hair. “I’ve got you.”
The bed space is dim, lit only by the soft glow spilling in from the hallway. The storm outside pushes pale light across the wood floor, shadows dancing like they know what’s coming.
I lower her onto the bed, slow, deliberate, giving her every chance to pull back.
She doesn’t.
Her hands slide up my arms, lingering on my shoulders before drifting down my chest, fingers tracing the lines of muscle like she’s memorizing them. Her touch is hesitant but hungry, a mix of need and disbelief.
“You sure?” I ask, hovering above her, brushing my thumb along her cheekbone.
Her eyes lock with mine—warm, open, trusting in a way that hits me deeper than the hunger already burning low and hard.
“Yes,” she whispers. “I want this. I want you.”
Those words wreck me. I dip down, kissing her again—slow at first, lips molding to hers, coaxing out every soft sound she tries to swallow.
Her hands slide into my damp short hair, tugging me closer, pulling a gravelly groan from my throat.
I’ve never cared to have longer hair until now as I imagine the feel of her tugging the roots tight.
She arches under me, the towel slipping enough that I can feel her warmth, her softness. I trail my mouth down her neck, tasting her skin, lingering on the spot that makes her gasp and tilt her head back.
Her pulse flutters against my lips.
“Holley…” I breathe, savoring her reaction. “You’re killing me in the best damn way.”
She laughs, but it melts into a shudder when my hand traces the curve of her waist, slow, reverent, learning her shape like it’s something I’ve been starved for.
Because I have been.
She draws me down, her breath warm against my ear. “I want to feel you.”
The way she says it—soft, pleading—makes heat crawl down my spine. I settle over her more fully, our bodies fitting together like the universe planned it. The tension between us tightens, electric, pulling us closer until breathing feels optional.
Her lips brush mine again. “Don’t hold back.”
I smile against her mouth. “Baby, be careful what you wish for.”
Her answering breath trembles, and I kiss her again—deeper this time, slower but filled with promise as my hands slide along her curves, mapping every inch she lets me have.
She opens beneath me, trusting, warm, wanting, and the moment feels bigger than just heat—it feels like turning a page we can’t ever turn back from.
The storm howls outside.
The room breathes around us.
And I lower us both into the kind of night that changes everything— not rushed, not careless, but full of need and connection and the hunger we’ve been circling from the very first kiss.
I work her with my fingers until her slick heat drenches my digits.
Only then do I push my long, hard length in her slowly inch by delicate inch feeling her clinch around me.
Her body taking me in deeper and deeper with every thrust.
When it finally softens, when her fingers relax against my back and her breath evens out against my chest, I hold her like she’s something I was always meant to find.
And for the first time in a long damn time… I feel calm inside.