17. KORIE #2
“You literally turn yourself into a burrito if a blanket is anywhere near you.”
“That’s survival instinct.”
Holden shifts to see my face. “You literally trapped me against the wall last time you slept over. If my mattress wasn’t against the wall, I would’ve fallen off the bed.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“Dramat—dude, I almost died!”
I snort. “You survived.”
“Barely.” He rubs his side as if remembering some old wound. “And, if making me sleep in the cold isn’t bad enough, you also snore. Maybe I should rethink this whole you and me thing.”
I sit up straighter. “I absolutely do not snore.”
“You absolutely do.”
“You’re a liar.”
“You sound like a tiny chainsaw.” He makes the sound.
I shove his shoulder. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Mm.” He nods seriously. “It’s true, though. I’ll take a recording next time.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Fine, then I’ll record you talking in your sleep.”
His grin falters. “I don’t talk in my sleep.”
“You do.”
“I definitely don’t.”
“You muttered something about protein bars and condoms the last time you slept over.”
Holden’s cheeks get a little pink. “That could mean anything.”
“You also said, and I quote, ‘That wall is my friend.’”
He covers his face with one hand. “Okay, first of all, rude! That wall really is my friend. And second—”
I’m already laughing harder now, leaning against him again.
“And second,” he continues. “Don’t offend the wall. That wall knows things. It listens to me.”
“You’re just talking to yourself and thinking the wall listens.”
He makes a sound of disbelief. “Are you saying it’s not my friend?”
“I’m saying you have fewer friends than you think you do.”
“Ouch.” Holden turns his head toward me, eyes narrowed with fake suspicion. “You know what your problem is?”
“Oh, this should be good.”
He opens his mouth to say something, then pauses, turning to the side. “Shit, what was I going to say?”
I laugh hard, falling against his chest. Holden curls an arm around me, tugging the blanket dramatically.
I pinch him. “That’s for even thinking an insult.”
He tries to scramble backward across the couch, laughing the entire time, but I catch his arm and shove him down into the cushions.
Holden’s head drops back against the armrest, breathless laughter spilling out of him. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
I grab one of the ugly throw pillows Hattie got for him and smack him with it.
He catches it, still laughing, and uses it to block himself while I try to wrestle it away. The couch shifts under us, legs tangling worse, and suddenly Holden’s flat on his back with me halfway sprawled over him trying to pry the pillow out of his hands.
“You fight dirty,” he says.
“You started this.”
“You attacked me!”
“Because you insulted me.”
“Not out loud!”
Holden finally loses his grip on the pillow when I yank it hard enough that he nearly slides off the couch. His hands grab my waist automatically to steady both of us.
We still for half a second, both acutely aware of how I’m hovering over him, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his hips, and one hand braced against him to keep from falling.
Holden’s chest rises and falls under my palm, still unsteady from laughing.
His smile fades a little, not disappearing completely, but softening into something quieter. Of all the times we wrestled and ended up like this, never once has my mind gone so quickly to one outcome—sex. My heart pounds wildly as I stare down at him, doubt and fear and desire all slamming into me.
Holden’s hands are still on my waist. My pulse jumps when his thumbs shift slightly against my sides. Instinctively, my hips rock forward. His eyes hood.
“You done trying to kill me?” he asks softly.
I swallow. “Maybe.”
I lean in like I’m going to kiss him, then pull away at the last second.
“Oh, you little—”
When I try to climb off him, Holden quickly pulls me down, rolling us until we’re on our side facing each other, his back pressed into the couch. I shriek with laughter.
Holden slides his arm tight around me, our bodies pressed close together. “See? Trapped again,”
I snort. “This was your own doing, dork.”
“Won’t hear me complaining.”
He leans in to kiss me deeply. When I open for him, Holden slides a hand down my back to my hip. I drive forward, wanting to be closer. Holden groans softly, rubbing my back. Lifting my shirt, he slides a warm hand across my bare skin. I press him into the couch, wanting more.
With my knee, I rub between his legs.
Holden freezes for half a second, then lifts my shirt higher, flattening his hand over my side. I pull away just enough that I can slide a hand between us, palming him. Holden gasps against my lips, kissing deeper.
I palm him a few more times before sliding a hand inside the waistband of his athletic pants.
Holden mutters a curse. Our eyes meet as I touch him, fingers curling around his shaft.
He reaches for my shirt, tugging it over my head.
Once it’s gone, Holden’s gaze immediately drops to my soft pink bralette.
I bite my lip, nervous to be in front of him like this, but Holden only pulls me in again, kissing me.
He reaches up my side, over the lace, and around to my back.
I expect him to unclasp the bra—it’s what so many other guys have done the second they see it.
Instead, Holden presses me closer, kissing me as he thrusts his hips into my hand.
I stroke his cock as we kiss, and Holden stops only long enough to kick his pants and underwear off. Then his hands are on my shorts, which all but slide off my hips.
I awkwardly wiggle my way out of them as Holden lifts me to lay me on top of him. I’m still in my underwear, and the moment his hand feels the lace, he pauses.
“Wait—stop.”
He gently pushes me up until I’m straddling his waist. My heart pounds wildly, bracing for rejection. A hungry look fills his eyes when he sees them—the lace panties, in the same shade of pink as my bra.
“Oh, fuck, Kor,” he mutters. “You’re gorgeous.”
Desire soars through me as he takes it all in, hands sliding up my thighs to my waist.
He tugs at the lace, then covers my erection with his hand through the material, much too softly if I have any say in it. I roll my hips forward.
“Holden.”
He snaps his eyes up.
Words fail me. Whatever I was going to say or ask for… it’s gone. With his hand on my cock, his mouth agape, and the way he’s looking at me like I’m the most beautiful thing in the world, there is nothing else I could possibly need.
He palms me harder, leaning up to crush our mouths together. When he slips a hand inside, I gasp.
I fist his length at the same pace he does, losing my mind with the way his calloused hand feels around me. My head slants to the side and Holden kisses down my neck. I want him on top of me. Inside me. All over me.
I grind against him hard, pulling his shirt off.
Turning us, Holden wraps my legs around his waist then gets to his feet, carrying me to his bed. He lies me down, then hovers over me, completely naked. We both pause, catching our breath. I reach for his face and pull him in for a kiss. Don’t stop, I plead silently, pulling him on top of me.
I still don’t trust where this is heading, or even if there’s a future between us, but right now, I can’t say no to this. I want him. All of him.
Holden grinds his hips down as the kiss deepens. I arch up to meet him. Holden groans, sliding a hand down my side to my hip, then under my ass, lifting me. He rocks slowly, kissing and sucking on my neck.
Then he moves lower.
“Tell me this is okay,” he breathes as he kisses just below my belly button.
I fist the sheets. “Holden.”
“Tell me, Kor.”
He kisses the head of my cock through the lace, still watching me. When he sees my scar on my thigh, he turns to kiss along it. With one hand, he curls the fingers under the waistband of my panties, waiting.
I struggle to draw breath, heat and electricity burning through me.
He teases the sensitive head again with his tongue, gently sucking through the underwear, making me shudder. “Tell me I can taste you.”
I nod. “Y-yes.”