by Atlas, Lilly
She cleared her throat as memories both sad and so damn wonderful bombarded her. “Back to the story. We grabbed our sleeping bags and stuffed ourselves in the freezer. Thankfully at the last second, I thought to prop the lid open. My mom found us about fifteen minutes later, blue-lipped, teeth chattering, and shivering our little butts off, but both too damn stubborn to admit defeat. My parents made us clean the whole garage for that one.”
As she shook her head at herself, LJ chuckled, and Holly could no longer keep the tears at bay. She threw her arms around him and held on for dear life. His tree-trunk arms came around her and his heavy body sagged as though too fatigued to even remain upright. He tucked his face into the crook of her neck. Holly kept one hand around him and held the back of his head against her with the other. As she held him, she took steadying breaths and controlled her tears. Last thing he needed was to see her weeping and feel even worse than he obviously did.
“Welcome back,” she whispered into his damp neck. “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry, Holly. Christ, I’m so fucking sorry.” His words were heavy with shame. “I’d hoped to never let you see me like that.” He pulled out of her arms and stared through the window, completely avoiding her gaze.
Her heart broke for the damaged man who worked so hard to keep everyone in his life from seeing his pain. “Come on,” she said as she rubbed his shoulder. What she really wanted to do was force him to look at her, but she had no idea how hard to push. “Let’s go home. We’ll talk about it there. I’m driving, and if you argue with me, I’ll never bake for you again.”
That had a heartier laugh coming from him, and he finally turned shame-filled eyes her way. That was something they had to work on. He never needed to hide anything from her. She wouldn’t pity him or think less of him for the internal battles he fought.
“Most women threaten to withhold sex. You threaten to take away my sugar fix.”
Holly snorted. “That’s because I’m not stupid. Withholding sex punishes me as well as you.” She winked, then climbed down from the mountain of a truck. LJ scooted along the bench seat, taking her spot. She made a fool of herself climbing back into the truck in the most ungraceful way possible, but LJ didn’t seem to notice.
“I’m fucked up, Holly. Too fucked up for this.” He shook his head then stared out the window once again. “Fucking loser,” he whispered to his reflection.
Holly’s fingers shook as she shifted the car into gear then grabbed his hand. “If I ever hear that kind of garbage from your mouth again, not only will I withhold the treats, I’ll make you watch me eat your share.”
Without turning, he shook his head, but considering his state, she took it as a small victory. They had a lot to discuss. Holly only hoped their budding connection held up to this first test because she wasn’t ready to let go of LJ. This man who’d come to her rescue. This man who’d been so affected by her experience, he succumbed to a fight she hadn’t been aware he struggled with.
After she pulled into the lot at their apartment complex, Holly parked the monstrous truck next to LJ’s bike. Seeing as how it was her first day driving the thing, she figured the slightly off-kilter park job was good enough.
LJ, however, didn’t react. He just sat still, staring out the windshield, probably not seeing a thing.
“LJ?” Holly said. “We’re home.” She stroked a hand up and down his arm. “Let’s head on up.”
Still nothing. His lack of response no longer frightened her as it had when he’d been mid panic attack. He blinked, and breathed in a slow, steady pattern, but just seemed lost in whatever self-hatred he’d begun to engage in.
Holly frowned. “LJ, I’m beat.” And a little sore from being slammed against the hood of his truck, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. “How about we lounge on the couch and watch something mindless for the rest of the day?”
He turned to her then. “Let’s get you inside,” he said, and got moving. After he hopped out of the truck, he came around to her side.
God, this man. As soon as she mentioned a slight amount of fatigue, he forgot his own troubles and mobilized to help her.
Hand in hand, they walked up the stairs and into LJ’s apartment. Biscuit greeted them with licks and a wagging tail before plopping right back down on the extra-large dog bed LJ had purchased for his furry buddy.
“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” LJ asked her.
“Nah, just want to veg if that’s okay.”
“Sounds perfect.”
They moved to the couch, and LJ flipped the TV to some cooking show Holly would have normally been all over, but this subdued LJ had her so thrown, she couldn’t think of anything but drawing him out of the mental hole he’d crawled into.
From the outside, they looked like any couple cuddled up on the couch, enjoying a lazy Saturday afternoon. He wrapped his long arm securely around her. Holly’s head rested on his chest, legs draped over his lap. But neither spoke, and LJ seemed to be as lost in thought as she was.
After about twenty minutes of pretending to watch the TV, Holly reached her limit. “LJ,” she finally said, peering up at him. “We need to talk about what happened earlier. Both with Deputy Higgins and in the car afterward.”
He muted the TV then gazed down at her. “We can definitely revisit what happened with Higgins, but as for the other…” He shrugged. “It’s nothing. Just lost my temper over what happened to you.”
Holly straightened but didn’t move from her spot half on his lap. “That wasn’t a loss of temper. Screaming, punching the wall, throwing a vase…those are things people do when they lose their tempers. Being unable to breathe, shaking, and basically blacking out seems like signs of a severe panic attack.”
He shrugged then turned the sound back on the TV. “Don’t know what to tell you. Just know how fucking pissed Higgins made me.”
There he went, burrowing back into his mind and blocking her out. As hard as he tried to appear unaffected and nonchalant, his eyes reflected the pain and even worse, shame. He was so damn ashamed she’d seen him in that state. Any other time, being shut out in this manner would sting, but LJ’s reaction only made her more determined to draw him out.
She wanted him. Wanted to be with him on good days and the shitty ones. She’d take LJ any and every way she could get the man.
And it was time to prove that in a way he’d find impossible to resist, even after all that had happened today.
Holly stood, stripping her diner T-shirt over her head. Left in only a sunny yellow push-up bra, she took two steps forward until she stood between his spread legs. Then she lost the bra as well. LJ’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared. With his height, it’d be so easy for him to lean forward and taste her.
Both fists curled on his thighs as though he was fighting a battle to touch her. That wouldn’t work. She wanted his hands all over her, erasing the disgusting touch she’d endured from Higgins.
“Fuck me, LJ,” she said, eliciting a rumble from him.
He shook his head. “No, Holly, not now. Not like this. You’re sore. You’re bruised for fuck’s sake,” he said, pointing to a purple mark where her hip peeked out from her jeans.
“I’m fine, LJ. Pretty sure a good, hard orgasm will cure any soreness I might be experiencing.”
His knuckles blanched. “I’m riding the line right now, sugar. Trust me, you don’t want me this way. I’ll be rough as fuck.”
Holly’s heart rate skyrocketed, and she soaked her panties. That was exactly how she wanted him. Hard enough to erase both their memories of the day. Right before his eyes, her nipples hardened to points nearly painful with need. With his gaze locked on her breasts, there was no way he missed it. No way the effect his words had went unnoticed.
A war waged in his eyes. One Holly vowed to win.
Something somewhere along the line had damaged this big beautiful man, and Holly couldn’t stem the desire to wrap him in her arms and promise nothing would hurt him ever again.
But she couldn’t do that, because someone was gunning for his family and she had no idea what the outcome would be.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
IF HE MADE it through the next five minutes without succumbing to the most tempting offer he’d ever been given, LJ should be nominated for sainthood.
Holly stood before him with those juicy tits just two feet from his mouth. All he had to do was lean forward, take one in between his lips, and he knew, he just knew all the shit of the day would wash away.
He also knew he’d lose control in a different way and have Holly bent over the couch stuffed full of his thick cock while he pounded her like some kind of wild beast. “Holly, please,” he said on a groan. “You keep pushing this, and it’s gonna go somewhere you’re not prepared for.”
One blonde eyebrow rose, and she propped a hand on her luscious hip, cocking it to the side. Of fucking course it made her tits jiggle and nearly had him shooting his load without so much as a whiff of air against his cock. The damn thing screamed to be set free, so goddamned hard, it nearly punched its way out of his jeans.
Her coy smile only made his dick harder. “Oh, I think it’s going to go exactly where I want it to,” she said as she slid her hand down the front of her jeans.
Where the hell had this seductress come from and what had she done with his sweet Holly?
“He fucking bruised you, Holly. Put his goddamn filthy hands on you.” With each word he spoke the need to erase the other man’s touch from her body grew stronger. He wanted to fuck her so hard, the memory of any man before him, or promise of any after him would cease to exist. He wanted her screaming his name until her voice grew raw and her world consisted of nothing but his hands, his cock, his mouth.
And it’d be the same for him. Hell, she’d already eclipsed any woman he’d ever had. She did that the first time he kissed her.
“Which is exactly why I need your touch. Need you filling me up. Make it all go away, LJ.” She coasted her hands back up her body, cupping her tits. They overflowed her hands and made his mouth water. “Take me, LJ. I’m yours.”
Even after what she’d witnessed in the car, she not only wanted him, she demanded him. “For fuck’s sake,” he whispered, staring up at the ceiling. “Give me fucking strength.”
“You already have strength. More than your fair share. And I love when you use it on me—oh!”
His arm snaked out, curling around her waist and dragging her forward in one swift move. Before Holly had the chance to react, his mouth was full of her gorgeous tits. He kissed, sucked, licked, and bit until she was a quivering mess in his arms. Her hands gripped his head, guiding him from left to right, wherever her need was greatest.
“Please, LJ,” she said on a moan.
Christ, she tasted so good.
“Fuck,” he said. He sunk his teeth into the flesh of her tit, hard. “Beg me again.”
She gasped. “Oh, my God. Please. Please. Please. Forget the rest, and just fuck me. As hard as you warned me you would. Please, LJ, just go crazy.”
So much for fucking sainthood.
LJ shot to his feet so fast, he almost knocked Holly clear over. Instead, he snagged her around the waist and dragged her toward the end of the couch. Standing behind her, he grabbed her hair and yanked her head to the side. The curve of her neck was a particularly sensitive spot for her, and her reaction to his tongue dragging up the column of her throat didn’t disappoint.
She moaned and ground her ass against his cock. He sucked on her pulse point hard enough he’d be seeing the evidence for days while working her tits with hard tugs and rolls. Her skin felt like silk beneath his rough fucking fingers. Way too lovely for the likes of him.
But she said she wanted it. And she said she wanted it down and fucking dirty. Without ceremony, he unbuttoned her jeans and yanked them down with her panties. Not that he didn’t fucking love to see her ass in whatever sexy panties she had on, but they were just in his way at the moment. With a hand at the center of her back, he gently shoved her forward until her upper body flopped over the arm of his plush couch. “Only one man gets to bend you the fuck over and have you.” He ran his hands wherever he could reach. Her back, her ass, her sides. His touch was heavy as he stroked over her, dragging her skin along by his fingers. Last thing he wanted was to hurt her, but he couldn’t be fucking gentle if his life depended on it. “Only my touch matters. I’m the only one allowed to see you or feel you like this. I fucking promise, Holly, that shit won’t happen again. Memorize this touch, because it’s the only one you get to feel.”
Until she came to her senses and walked away from the fucking mess he was.
Holly trembled, hands propping her up on the couch. “Yesss,” she hissed. “Just you, LJ.”
He took one step back, removed his own jeans and boxer briefs. Once naked, he took in the sight of his woman, ass up, pussy drenched, waiting to be filled.
Christ, Holly should be required to greet him like this whenever he came home.
“Last chance to bail, sugar. Shit’s about to get real.”
“Jack, fuck me alrea—” He slammed into her to the hilt. “Oh, fuck!” she cried.
He was too big to be tunneling into her like that, but the warmth, heat, and near punishing clench of her pussy snapped the last thread of his control and he couldn’t summon the brainpower to check in with her. He hammered her with brutal force. Gripping the soft flesh of her hips as though she’d disappear if he didn’t hold as tight as possible, he thought of nothing but filling her to the brim with his cum.
Condom be fucking damned.
He’d flood her then watch it drip like a stamp of ownership.
Holly whimpered with every violent thrust. The tiny part of his brain that remained rational worried it was too much until she shouted, “Yes, LJ. Fuck me harder than you’ve ever fucked before.”
Jesus Christ, this woman was perfect.
Loud smacks reverberated through the room each time their hips met. Holly fisted the cushion of his couch and used it to propel her body backward with every powerful jerk of his hips.
Nothing had ever felt this fucking good.
Holly was so wet, her juices ran down his thigh. Fuck, he was never showering again. His balls ached with the need to come, but he fought it for as long as possible.
“More, LJ,” Holly practically screamed. “Give me more. Give me all of you.”
Goddamn, this woman was going to destroy him. He grabbed her shoulder with one hand and fucked into her with choppy, ruthless strokes completely lacking finesse. She took every single one and begged for more.
“Fuck, sugar, you take me so fucking good. So fucking tight.”
All of a sudden, Holly’s back arched, and she screamed his name so loud they must have heard her back at the clubhouse. LJ could have been dead, and watching Holly go off like that would have still sent him spiraling into an orgasm so intense his vision blanked.
“Jesus fuck, Holly,” he screamed as pleasure ripped through him, tearing down any and every defense he’d ever built. This woman fucking owned him.
He held her ass flush against his body, his cock buried deep as they floated down from the high. Once Holly’s arms gave out and she sagged into the couch, he pressed open-mouthed kisses along the curve of her back. She was slick with perspiration and salty on his tongue.
With a sigh, he rested his head between her shoulder blades. The position couldn’t be the most comfortable for her, but he suddenly found himself unable to meet her eyes. At least this way he wouldn’t be forced to. It was time. Not only had she bared her soul to him, she’d witnessed him at his very worst and didn’t so much as hesitate to comfort him at a time he should have been soothing her. She was an incredible woman and deserved to know why he reacted as he had in the truck.
“I was a Navy SEAL for four years,” he said against her back.
Holly sucked in a breath. “What? I had no idea. I knew you served, but how did I not know that?”
“I don�
�t talk about it much.” He licked a bead of sweat from her back.
“You have PTSD,” she said, and it wasn’t a question.
“I do.”
Beneath him, Holly wiggled. There went his reprieve. He stood, taking her with him and moved them to the couch. Holly lay sprawled on top of him with her chin resting on her stacked hands.
He couldn’t meet her gaze; instead keeping his focus on the unmoving ceiling fan above. Despite how cowardly a move, he just couldn’t stomach seeing pity in her gaze.
“Hey!”
The sharp bark of Holly’s voice surprised him enough to have him looking at her.
Her narrowed gaze burned with intensity. Mouth set in a firm line, she peered into his soul for a moment. “You know it’s nothing to be ashamed of, right? Please tell me you know that?”
He shrugged. Sure, he knew it with his rational brain—the fucking therapist he’d been ordered to see had mentioned it at least three times per session—but that never seemed to matter when he lost his shit in front of another person. And in front of a woman he wanted more than he was willing to admit?
Humiliation coming out his ass.
“I know.”
“But knowing and living it are two different things, aren’t they?”
Christ, she was amazing. So understanding and compassionate. The pity he’d feared?
Absent.
All he saw reflected at him was concern. Maybe a deeper emotion, but he refused to delve too far down that rabbit hole. Sure, he’d told her about his PTSD diagnosis, but he still had no plans of revealing the severity of his nightmares or ever subjecting her to a night sleeping next to him and his unpredictable behavior.