The Nice Boxset

by Jasinda Wilder

  She let her thighs fall open, kept her eyes on his. “Is that a promise, Dec? Whatever I want, for as long as I want?”

  He sank back to lean on his heels, his eyes raking from hers down to her peaked breasts and then to her opening. “It’s a promise.” He flicked his gaze back to hers. “Touch yourself for me, Holls.”

  She swallowed hard, but her fingers were already at her core and she felt a twitch of heat as she touched herself. She didn’t need long to find a rhythm, circling, flicking, and then circling again while Declan watched, his broad chest heaving, his brows drawn as he pulled himself back from the edge. Her hips began to lift, her mouth fell open, and even though she masturbated fairly frequently she’d never felt this before, this sense of vulnerability and erotic voyeurism from knowing Dec was watching, and seeing the way his cock throbbed and his body tensed and his fists squeezed, seeing the evidence of his desire, seeing clearly how much he was loving the show she was giving him.

  Drawing her heels up against the backs of her thighs, she pinched her nipple with one hand and swiped at her throbbing clit with the other, hips lifting, eyes wanting to close. She kept them open, though, wanting to see how her actions were affecting Declan. He reached out with one hand and teased her opening while she circled herself, and then he slipped two thick fingers into her and now they were working together to bring her to climax yet again, his fingers driving in and out of her faster and faster, and this time her approach to climax wasn’t a slow build, it was a sudden and immediate detonation.

  She felt herself writhing and grinding up off the mattress, moaning wantonly, gasping, reaching for Declan as he leaned over her. She felt him huge and hot at her opening, and then he was pushing, and she felt him nudge inside of her. Holly groaned at the ache of fullness, her eyes squeezing shut as he slowly penetrated her.

  “Oh…oh god, Dec…”

  “Okay, Holls?”

  “So much more than okay…don’t stop, Dec—”

  “Stop? Oh Holly, I’m just getting started.” His voice was thick with need and low with promise.

  She forced her eyes open and grasped at his flesh, found his sides and pulled him closer, needing his weight on her to keep her grounded. Holly felt so full, bursting with need and heat and blazing ecstasy, she felt so amazing she feared she might fly away or explode, or both, and only Dec’s huge hard weight on her could keep her tethered to the earth.

  He planted one fist in the pillow by her head, and with the other he caressed her breasts, circling around her nipple and flicking it, and then pinching and twisting until she was writhing. He was going slow, being careful, and maybe she’d originally wanted him to go slow, maybe she’d thought she would need him to be this careful with her. But now, after two wracking orgasms, her body was ready for him. She felt her pussy cling to his shaft, felt her muscles squeeze him and felt an emptiness, an ache for more, a need for pressure, a need for him to take their pleasure.

  “More, Dec…harder….” She whispered to him, reaching for the hard bubble of his ass and cupping him and pulling him against her.

  His mouth touched hers, but she couldn’t remember how to kiss as he filled her and then began to thrust slowly and steadily. She could only move with him, it was all she had the headspace for, it was all she knew. He moved in her as if they were made to fit, he filled her until she was close to tears with overpowering ecstasy. She clung to him and writhed against him, let moans and whimpers and curses flee her lips unheeded. And with every sound she made, Declan moved harder and faster, gave her more of what she needed, more of himself, more of the aching burning explosive fullness. Lifting her hips off the mattress, she wrapped her legs around his waist and hooked her heels together, thrashed madly against him as a wildness overtook her.

  Fingers scrabbling like claws at his back and shoulder, Holly heard herself calling his name like a raspy guttural plea, “Dec, Dec…oh god…Declan…”

  “Holly, Jesus, Holly…”

  She needed to feel him lose control. “I need you to come, Dec…I need you to—oh god, yes, yes, fuck me, Dec…”

  As she spoke, he leaned back and took her hips in his hands, and as Holly kept her heels hooked around his waist, he lifted her off the mattress so only her shoulder blades touched the bed, and he thrust into her with furious abandon, not holding back any longer. The veins on his arms stood out and the tendons in his neck, and sweat coated his tanned, taut flesh with a glistening gleam, his hips pumped and his hands pulled her hips so she was slamming against him, his muscles shifting under his skin.

  Holly felt the moment when her body cut loose. It was like a tidal wave crashing through her, yet another orgasm wrenching her body so her inner muscles clamped down on Declan’s sliding shaft, and she heard herself scream and watched as Dec groaned and cursed and growled, watched as he fell forward with his hair sticking to his forehead and his eyes primal and hungry and possessive. He buried himself into her, and she felt him thicken and throb, and then he was coming, his face burying in her bouncing breasts and his hands feathering in her tangled hair, and his body going heavy on hers, blessedly heavy as he lost control and heaved above her, his hips flying crazily, his body filling her and completing her own thrashing climax and milking every last wringing drop of pleasure out of her.

  When he finished, he was limp on her and she was caressing his back and his ass and stroking his hair, marveling at the sense of utter happiness flushing through her.

  “Jesus, Holly,” he gasped.

  “Dec, I’ve never—I’ve never felt anything like that in my whole life.”

  “Me neither, Holls. You…when you come it’s like…watching heaven break open.” He leaned up on one fist, brushing a wayward lock of her auburn curls away from her face. “You’re so responsive, so ready to come for me.”

  She traced the bulge of his bicep idly, and then the ridge of his shoulder. “Dec, I—nothing in my entire life has ever felt that incredible. That first orgasm you gave me, with your mouth…it was…it was the most—the most amazing thing ever. And then touching myself while you watched? Holy shit…and then when you were inside me…oh my god.” She rolled against him so he was laying on his back and nestled her head on his shoulder, and touched his body everywhere she could reach.

  “I could spend every single moment of my entire life making you come and never get enough,” he said. “In fact…” he reached for her core.

  She batted his hand away from her thighs. “I’m too sensitive, still.” She traced the length of him. “And besides, isn’t it my turn to touch you for as long as I want?”

  He smiled, and tucked his hands under his head. “I did promise you that, didn’t I?”

  She grinned at him as she toyed with him. “I think you’ll enjoy what I have in mind, though…”

  It wasn’t long before he was hardening again, and Holly touched her mouth to his salty skin, using her hands to grasp him and stroke him, and then she was tasting him there too, and he was groaning and cursing as she teased him her tongue, kissing him, fondling him, bringing him to writhing readiness and then bringing him back away from the edge.

  When he was cursing and his eyes were wild with need, Holly found a condom in the drawer and slid it onto him, settled her weight on him, sank down on him with a long groan of bliss.

  And this time she worked him with a slow and measured pace, never hurrying, no matter how much she wanted to. Slowly, slowly, she felt herself nearing the edge. And when she reached the edge, she leaned back on him and rode him with the same slow pace, crashing down on him harder and harder, but still slowly.

  She fell forward as she lost control, burying her face in his neck and feeling him explode inside her, feeling his hands caress her body everywhere he could reach, and then she was limp on him and he just held her there, kissing her face and her hair and her temple.

  “God, Dec.”

  “I know.”

  She peered up at him. “I don’t want this night to end.”

  He wrapp
ed his arms around her and kissed her until they were both breathless. “It doesn’t have to,” he murmured. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, he kissed her again. “Happy New Year, Holls.”

  She felt something twist inside her, a desperation, a breaking apart, a release. “Happy New Year, Dec.” A boldness overtook her, and she let her emotions speak for her. “I think I love you, Declan.”

  He caressed her cheek. “And I know I love you, Holly.”

  Her smile was one of utter happiness. “A Happy New Year indeed, then.”

  * * *

  THE END

  Falling Into You

  FALLING INTO YOU

  Copyright © 2013 by Jasinda Wilder

  All rights reserved.

  Cover art by Sarah Hansen of Okay Creations. Cover art © 2013 by Sarah Hansen.

  * * *

  Copyediting by Indie Author Services.

  * * *

  Except the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  * * *

  This book is for anyone who has ever lost a loved one, for anyone who has woken up crying and gone to bed the same way, for anyone who has had to learn that it’s okay to be not okay. Surviving isn’t strength, it’s continuing to breathe one day at a time; strength is learning to live despite the pain.

  Created with Vellum

  The Past

  PART ONE

  Nell

  Chapter 1

  BFF…Or BF?

  September

  I wasn't always in love with Colton Calloway; I was in love with his younger brother, Kyle, first.

  Kyle was my first one true love, my first in every way.

  I grew up next to the Calloways. Kyle and I were the same age, our moms having given birth to us in the same hospital, two rooms apart, two days apart. Kyle was the older one, much to my irritation. Only by two days, but that was enough for Kyle to get a big head about it and tease me mercilessly. We played in the same Pack-N-Play in his mom’s house as babies. We shared blocks and dolls (Kyle played with dolls as much as I did until we were three or so, which I in turn teased him mercilessly about). We learned to ride bikes together; my dad taught us both, since Mr. Calloway was a congressman and gone a lot. We studied together, did homework together. We were best friends before anything else. It was always kind of assumed we’d end up together, I think.

  Not quite arranged, necessarily, just…assumed. His dad, the up-and-coming congressman; my dad, the CEO, the über-successful businessman. Their beautifully perfect children, together? Well, duh. I mean, I know that sounds arrogant or whatever, but it’s just the truth. I’m not perfect, obviously. I have some flaws. I’m kind of wide in the hips for my height, and my bust is a little too big for my frame, but whatever. I know what I look like, but I swear I’m not vain about it.

  We weren’t aware of those assumptions until our sophomore year. We’d been friends until that point, best friends, but just friends. I was never a boy-crazy type of girl. My conservative father wouldn’t have allowed it, for one thing, and I wasn’t permitted to date until I was sixteen anyway. So then, the week after my sweet sixteen, Jason Dorsey asked me out. Jason was the runner-up to Kyle’s bid for complete perfection. He was blond where Kyle was raven-haired, a more bulky muscle-builder type to Kyle’s lean, cut, lupine grace, and Jason wasn’t quite as smart or charming as Kyle, but then I might have been biased.

  I didn’t even hesitate when Jason asked me if he could take me to dinner after school. I mean, duh, right? Just about every girl at my high school dreamed of Jason or Kyle asking them out, and I was BFFs with Kyle, and had a date with Jason. He did it at my locker, which was always a busy spot, so it was a public thing. Everyone saw, and they were all so jealous, let me tell you.

  I met Kyle at his souped-up Camaro after sixth period like always, and we took off, tires squealing. Kyle tended to drive like he was in a high-speed chase, but he was a very skilled driver, so I never freaked. His dad had made sure Kyle was given courses in defensive driving by an actual FBI agent, so Kyle could out-drive most of the cops at the local PD.

  “Guess what?” I asked, excited, as Kyle drifted a wide left turn onto the dirt road leading to our neighborhood. Kyle shot me a lifted-eyebrow look, so I grabbed his bicep and squeezed, squealing, “Jason Dorsey asked me out! He’s taking me to dinner tonight!”

  Kyle nearly drove off the road. He jammed on the brakes, spinning the car into a sideways skid on the dirt road leading to our houses. Kyle twisted in the leather bucket seat, one arm braced on the headrest of my seat, brown eyes blazing. “What did you just say?” He sounded angry, which confused me. “’Cause I could have sworn you just said Jason asked you out.”

  I felt my breath catch at the intensity in his eyes, his voice. “I…he did?” It came out like a question, timid and confused. “He’s—he’s picking me up at seven. We’re going to Brann’s. Why are you acting this way?”

  “Why am I—?” Kyle snapped his teeth together, cutting himself off, then scrubbed his face with his hands. “Nell, you can’t go out with Jason.”

  “Why not?” Now that I was over the shock of Kyle’s sudden anger, I was hurt, more confused than ever, and getting angry. “He’s nice, and cute. He’s your best friend, so what’s wrong with him? I’m excited, Kyle. Or I was. No one’s ever asked me out before, and I’m finally allowed to date now that I’m sixteen, and you’re all mad. I don’t get it. You’re supposed to be happy for me.”

  Kyle’s face twisted, and I watched as half a dozen emotions rippled over his handsome features. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally, he let out a groaned curse and flung his door open, threw himself out of the car, slammed the door behind him, and stalked away through Mr. Ennis’s cornfield.

  I hesitated, more confused than ever. It looked, just before he stormed away, like Kyle was jealous. Could he be jealous? Then why didn’t he ask me out? I ripped my hair out of its ponytail and retied it, the wheels in my head spinning so fast I could barely breathe.

  Kyle? I’d done everything with Kyle. Everything. We ate lunch together every day. We went on hikes and picnics, long bike rides ending in ice cream at Dairy Queen. We skipped his dad’s monthly political soirées to drink stolen wine on the dock behind my house. We even got tipsy once and went skinny dipping.

  I had a memory of watching Kyle turn away as he shoved his boxers off and feeling a tingle in my belly at the sight of his naked backside. At the time I’d attributed the feeling to being buzzed. Of course, I’d stripped, too, and Kyle’s gaze had taken in my body in a way that had made the tingle even worse. At the time, I’d yelled at him to stop ogling me, and he’d turned away. He’d been in water up to his waist, but now I couldn’t help wondering if he’d been hiding a reaction to seeing me naked. He’d been very careful to keep his distance while we swam, when normally we were very physical, hugging, teasing each other, getting in tickle wars, which Kyle always won.

  I was starting to look at everything differently, all of a sudden.

  Kyle? He was my best friend. I had girlfriends, obviously. Jill and Becca and I got mani-pedis together every week and then went for milkshakes at Big Boy. But when I was upset or pissed off, when I got in a fight with Mom and Dad or got a bad grade or anything, I went to Kyle. We’d sit on my dock or his and he’d talk me out my funk. Hug me and hold me until I felt better. I’d fallen asleep on the dock with him a thousand times, fallen asleep on his couch watching a movie. On his couch, on his lap. Against his chest, his arm around me.

  That’s not BFF kind of affection, is it? We’d never kissed, never held hands like boyfriend/girlfriend, though. And if anyone asked, which happened a lot, we were always like no, we’re not going out, we’re best friends.

  But were we more?

  God, what a mess.

  I got out of the car and followed after Kyle. He was long out of sight, but I knew where he
was going. There was a spot on the ridge on the other side of Mr. Ennis’s cornfield where we hung out a lot. You could see our town from that ridge, as well as the silver string of the creek and the dark swath of the forest.

  Kyle was halfway up the huge lightning-blasted pine that crowned the ridge. There was a long, thick branch about twenty feet up, easy to climb to, and we frequently sat on that branch together, his back to the trunk, my back to his chest. I stood on the branch beneath Kyle, waiting. He hooked his foot around the branch, reached down and lifted me like a doll, and set me in front of him. This position took on a new significance, suddenly. I could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He was breathing hard and smelled of sweat. He must have run up the ridge.

  I leaned my head back on his shoulder and looked at him, his profile chiseled and gorgeous, bathed golden in the late afternoon sun. His brows were knitted together, his jaw clenched hard. He was still pissed.

  “Kyle…talk to me. I don’t—”

  “Don’t what? Understand? Yes, you do.” He glanced at me, then slid his eyes closed and turned away. As if it hurt to look at me.

  “We’re best friends, Kyle. If there’s something else for you, tell me.”

  “For me?” Kyle’s head thumped back against the tree. “I don’t know, Nell. I—yeah, I mean we’re best friends, by default, I guess. I mean, we grew up together, right? We spend all this time together, and we tell people that’s all we are, but…”