Chapter Five
Holly
Who am I? I don’t do this kind of stuff. I sit at home and watch reality TV while I eat chips and cookies from the half off bin at the market. I play trucks with a two-year-old and read bedtime stories this time of night.
I, in fact, do not bring big, brooding, flannel wearing men back to my house to fix my water heater.
Never.
Never ever.
Never ever, ever.
My heart races as Grayson’s big, rough hands land against my skin. They’re warm and steady, strong and confident.
God, it’s nice to have a man around. A man with big boots and a toolbox. A man with calloused fingertips and a voice that rumbles low. A man that looks at me like I’m someone worth showing up for.
His eyes are dark and steady, and I feel every bit of anxiety I’ve been carrying drift away. The overdue bills, the doomed bookstore, the water heater, the Christmas I still have to put together.
He’s like gravity, solid and unshakeable, and right now, he’s holding me in place, keeping me stable, reminding me without words that everything is okay.
I don’t want this to end. I never want him to go.
His touch trails up my spine, and I arch into it like my body’s been waiting. He’s electric, captivating, trapping me in a moment I fear could leave at any second. I feel it in my chest and my stomach, the ache for him relentless.
He leans in, lips brushing my ear, his voice rough as he says, “Tell me what you want, Holly.”
“I want you to take control,” I whisper, eyes locked with his.
His breath hitches against my skin, and I feel the shift, like I’ve woken something hungry within him.
He pulls back just enough to let me see the intensity in his eyes before his hand slides down my back, firm and possessive. “Turn around,” he commands, fingers trailing down my arm. “Hands on the wall. I want you to feel how good it is to give up control.”
I move, slow and trembling, the wall cool beneath my palms. Behind me, I hear the soft shed of his flannel, the heat of his muscular frame, the scent of cedar on his skin.
“You’re mine tonight,” he murmurs, lips grazing the back of my neck. “Can you be my little sugar plum and do exactly as I ask?”
I nod slowly, still facing the wall as the hard poke of his cock edges against my back. I want to see it, feel it, touch it, know what it’s like to have him inside of me, but I’m obeying orders, so I stand still, waiting as he strips my clothes off one piece of fabric at a time.
“You’re so beautiful,” he groans against my neck, spreading warm heat everywhere. “These pretty curves, this soft hair, it’s all for me.”
I swear to God, I could come to the sound of his voice alone.
His hand slides up my thigh, and I bite my lip to keep from moaning, though a sigh slips out as his fingertips graze the soft lips of my pussy.
“You’re a soaking wet, little plum. Aren’t you?” His teeth scrape against my shoulder as the rough pads of his fingers spread me wide and push inside.
It’s been three years since I’ve been touched by a man. Even longer since I’ve been touched right by a man. If I apply this touch to every experience I’ve ever had, I’ve never been touched right by a man.
I brace myself against the wall, hips tilting instinctively as his fingers work deeper. Every nerve feels newly discovered, like he’s listening to my body and responding accordingly.
I gasp and bend forward.
“That’s it. Let me hear you, sugar plum… nice and loud.”
Oh God. I resist the urge to turn back, to grip his cock, to slide onto my knees, to take him into my throat.
We’re going slow. We’re taking our time. He’s in control.
His fingers move with purpose, coaxing sounds from me I didn’t know I could make as my forehead rests against the wall.
“Look at you,” he groans. “My sweet little plum all dripping and desperate, doing exactly as she’s told.”
Oh damn!
A low ache resonates in my stomach as he leans in and bites my shoulder again, this time harder. His thick cock pokes at my back and slides back and forth, taunting me with penetration.
I’m trying to be good, but I want him. I want to be filled. I want to be stretched. I want to be fucked. I want to be reminded what it feels like to be taken.
I’m moaning shamelessly, rocking back and forth on his hand when a heavy knock hits the front door, threatening to break the spell that we’re building.
I glance back toward Grayson, but he holds me in place. “It’s nothing important.”
“It could be Evie. Maybe something’s wrong with Kade.”
“The knock would be louder. It’s nothing. Come for me.” His tone is so steady, so calming that I listen. I listen and I rock harder than ever, bouncing against his touch, moaning, aching to come as I let go of every last thing in the world.
“Good girl, soak my hand. I need to feel you lose it.”
I’m so close. I reach back and grip his forearm, feeling the cords flex with each thrust of his fingers.
Whoever’s at the door must’ve gone away because the knocking has stopped. He’s right. If it was important, the knocking would’ve been louder or my phone would’ve been blowing up.
My thighs clench around his touch and he groans low in my ear. “Let it happen. I want to feel you fall apart.”
It’s the last bit I need to come undone.
He growls out as I tighten around his fingers and moan, pounding my fist against the wall.
“Holly?”
A voice. A man’s voice. A man’s voice I’ve heard a thousand times before.
Grayson’s hands still and I freeze.
That voice doesn’t belong in this moment. It belongs in the courthouse, in late-night phone calls over visitation rights, in arguments that end in tears. Not here, not now, not in my house during the one moment I’m doing anything remotely interesting.
I turn slowly as Grayson pulls his hand from inside of me, my pulse roaring in my ears. I’m completely nude. Grayson is nude. We’re both standing here… nude.
What the hell is happening?
“Jesus Christ, Holly. I heard all this screaming, and I thought something bad was happening to you or Kade!” My ex stands in the doorway like he thinks he belongs here. Torn jeans, oversized T-shirt, a beanie covering his head. “This guy is like twice your age!”
Grayson hands me his flannel and stands taller, stepping toward Corey as though he’s going to fix this whole thing.
“Jesus, dude.” Corey turns his head to the side. “Put that thing away. You’re gonna impale someone.”
“I appreciate the wellness check, bud, but I’ve got it from here.” Grayson licks my sticky wet come off his fingertips.
Oh God! This isn’t happening. How the hell is this happening?
I tuck Grayson’s oversized flannel around my frame, breathing in the scent of cedar he’s left behind as I watch the look on Corey’s face decay moment by moment.
I’m sure I shouldn’t be happy to see that look, but a part of me is.
Corey narrows his brows in disgust and looks around Grayson for me. “You’re letting this weird old fuck around our kid?”
“You see any kids here?” Grayson’s jaw clenches and his fists ball at his sides. “We’re two adults in a house, you’re trespassing, and you’re done talking. Get out.”
Corey hesitates, eyes darting between us like he’s calculating his odds. Then he turns, muttering under his breath about the courts hearing about my terrible parenting.
“Tell them,” I shout. “Tell them whatever you want. I’m here. I’m here and I’m paying the bills and I’m giving Kade hugs and I’m loving him. What are you doing?”
Corey mumbles something else, but I don’t hear what he says. He must be intimidated by Grayson. I’ve never known him to walk away from a fight this early on. He usually has to stay and demean me for a while first.
Grayson reaches back for my hand but stays squared in the hallway until long after the doors have shut. When he’s sure Corey is gone, he turns toward me, eyes soft, cock still partially hard.
It’s the first real look I’ve got at it, and damn… it’s impressive.
“You okay?” he asks calmly.
I nod but it’s shaky. “Yeah. I just, ugh, he’s never done that before. I don’t even know why he was on this side of town.”
Grayson steps closer, his fingertips brushing the back of my hand as his heat radiates around me. “I’m staying tonight. If he comes back, he’ll have to get through me.”
And just like that, I don’t know what’s happening.
I thought tonight was a one night thing.
I thought we were messing around, that I’d make a reckless decision, and he’d be gone by sunrise.
Now, he’s staying. He’s staying and I want him to stay.
He’s staying and I want to go back to what we were doing.
He’s staying and I don’t know how to feel.
“You’re safe now, sugar plum.” He kisses the top of my head and calm radiates through me.
Why do I like it?
Why is this happening?
I have a child to raise. I can’t fall for some big, rough stranger… no matter his impressive features. Men are all the same. They’re really good at this stuff. The stuff at the beginning. The stuff that gets you hooked. Then five years go by and you’re begging for breadcrumbs.
I can’t do that to myself again.
Tonight was just a night.
The sooner I get that through my head, the better.