Chapter 5 #2
Still, she’s a brat, and she’s way over her head with me.
But the worst part is…she has no idea how badly I want to give her exactly what she’s asking for.
Tessa
I can’t even believe myself.
I’ve never been so bold with a man before. And I’ve definitely never been so sassy before.
But there’s something about Holt that makes it easy to push the limits.
Maybe it’s the way he keeps trying to put distance between us, as if he doesn’t trust himself with me.
Maybe he doesn’t.
The thought sends a shot of pleasure through me because the last thing I want from him is control. Far from it.
Or maybe it’s the way his voice drops when he’s trying to keep it together. Low and rough, like telling me to put my clothes on is causing him physical pain.
He’s looking at me with a hunger in his eyes that he’s not doing a very good job of hiding.
It just makes me want more.
He makes me want more.
Because for the first time in recent memory, I feel wanted.
Desired in a very, very real way that feels deliberate. Like, whatever this is between us is more than just me teasing him.
So much more.
He’s still standing a few feet away from me, my discarded shirt hanging from his hand.
I take my time letting my gaze travel over his naked chest, damp from sweat and the moisture in the air. Every defined muscle is tensed as if he’s only barely holding himself back.
The restraint is almost louder than words.
I take a slow step closer. “You didn’t answer my question,” I say as I close the distance between us one small step at a time. “If I don’t…will you make me?”
My nipples throb against the fabric of my bra. Impossibly hard from the cool air and the intense desire Holt’s gaze is fueling inside me.
“Tessa.” His voice is full of a warning I don’t plan on heeding. “I’m old enough to be your—”
“Daddy?”
The moment the word slips from my lips, I see the reaction it has on him. His nostrils flare, his eyes going almost black with need.
My own breath hitches and heat pools between my legs, soaking my panties.
The word feels dirty and absolutely fucking perfect all at the same time.
Now I know I’m playing with fire, but there’s no way I can stop myself.
I take one more step toward him until we’re so close I have to look up into his eyes and can feel the heat from his body.
“Maybe you’ll turn me over your knee, Daddy.”
He growls in response.
Growls.
His eyes squeeze shut for a moment as if he’s having an internal debate with himself. A debate I desperately hope he loses.
But I don’t look away, and when he opens them again, they’re fixed directly on me. “You don’t want this, Tessa.”
“I’m a big girl,” I say, my tongue slipping out between my lips. “Don’t tell me what I want.”
His jaw clenches, that war raging behind his darkened eyes. But then something snaps, and in one fluid motion, he drops my shirt and closes the small gap between us. His big hands grip my waist like he’s afraid I’ll vanish.
“You’re going to be the death of me, little girl,” he rasps, before his mouth crashes down on mine.
The kiss is pure fire. Desperate. Devouring. More than I ever could have imagined.
He backs me up hard against the rough woodpile, the splintered logs digging into my back as he pins me there with his weight. But I don’t care.
I gasp into his mouth, and he takes full advantage of the access, his tongue sweeping in, claiming every inch of my mouth as if he’s been starving for it.
One hand slides up my side. His rough hands over my smooth skin, lighting up every nerve in my body as his thumb brushes the underside of my bra, teasing the swell of my breast without quite touching where I ache most.
The other fists in my long hair, jerking my head to the side so he can deepen the kiss.
I feel like I’m falling. Spinning out of control with the desperation of the moment and the way my body yearns for more.
So. Much. More.
God, he tastes like sweat and pine and something sharper. Something forbidden. My hands roam over his bare back, my nails scraping over the ridges of hard muscle as I try to pull him closer.
Heat throbs between my thighs. My panties, and probably my leggings too, are soaked against the press of his hips grinding into me.
He breaks long enough to press his forehead against mine and growl against my lips.
“You have no idea what you do to me, Tessa. What I’d give to strip this bra off and suck those pretty nipples until you beg.
” His fingers hook under the strap, tugging it down to my shoulder.
His calloused palm grazes my skin, sending sparks straight to my core.
I arch into him, whimpering. “Do it, Daddy. Please.”
Again, the word feels both dirty and absolutely, sinfully perfect on my lips. But Holt freezes. His whole body goes stiff, his breath hot against my neck.
Agonizingly slowly, he pulls away, as if it physically hurts him to do it. His hands drop from me, leaving my skin flushed and aching in their absence. He steps away, chest heaving, and turns his back to me.
“We can’t,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with regret. “Not like this.” He shakes his head. “Not ever.”
I slump against the woodpile. The taste of him still on my swollen lips, my body screaming for more, I want to cry in frustration. But he’s already reaching for his shirt, tugging it over his head, and walking away.