“You won’t believe me, but yeah, it’s a coincidence,” he says sincerely. Fuck, I don’t want to believe him, but he’s never lied to me. He’s been a raging asshole lately, but not once has he knowingly deceived me. “I have a band passing through town and they heard about Last Chance. They want to stop by later to see the club, so I have to be close so I can be here when they get here.”
“Okay and what does this have to do with Holly?”
Dylan’s deep breaths are the only sound coming through the line. “Look, I’ve been thinking about what you said and you were right.”
“About?” I’ve said a lot, so it would be nice for him to tell me what the fuck he’s talking about.
“She and I need to get past the problems. It’s torn you and me apart so we can’t even fucking talk, and now it’s causing problems at home too.” This is the first time I’ve heard about things being less than a fairy tale at his place. I would feel bad for him if it wasn’t his own stupid fault.
“Fine, she’ll be there,” I say, still not totally on-board with them meeting alone, but knowing my friend well enough to know he’ll heed my warning. “If she comes home with a single tear stain on her cheek, I will fucking find you. You might not believe it, but she really isn’t that girl anymore.”
“I hear you,” Dylan assures me. “I can’t guarantee no tears, but I assure you, it won’t be from me being an asshole to her.”
We hang up and I feel the weight of the world tip closer to balance. Maybe all hope isn’t lost when it comes to Dylan.
Holly’s upstairs getting ready to meet with him when I walk inside. With her bedroom door cracked open, I see that she’s jamming to Katy Perry on her iPod. I lean against the doorframe, marveling at how much she has changed. I’m not sure the day will ever come when I don’t look at her in amazement.
She freezes in her tracks when she spins and sees me standing there watching her. “Don’t stop on my account,” I laugh. I stalk my way into the room, deciding that stopping might be the best thing she’s done.
I can barely contain my hormones when she’s fully dressed, and she’s standing there in just her jeans and bra, no shirt. I want to pull down the lace concealing her perfect tits. Seeing the outline of the small hoops piercing each nipple causes my cock to twitch.
“What time do you need to meet Dylan?” I ask as I step behind her and dip my fingers beneath the scalloped edge of one cup. Her body sags into mine, her back pressed to my chest. When I free her breast from the confines of her bra, the nipple immediately hardens. Looking over her shoulder, I roll the hardened nub between my fingers, gently tugging at the sensitive flesh.
“Six-thirty,” she squeaks.
“You’re going to be late,” I tell her, reaching between our bodies to take off the bra. Tonight was supposed to be our night. If I have to let her leave me home alone, I’m sending her out with the feeling of my body seared in her memory, the scent of us firmly attached to her skin.
She knows what’s coming and unbuttons her jeans without my telling her. Taking her lace panties with them, she drags the denim over her hips, allowing it to fall to the floor.
Once she’s standing before me naked, I see her glance up at me to see if I’m pleased with her. For someone who swore she wasn’t submissive, she sure as shit craves my approval. And she gets it. Often. It’s funny how the woman who swore she would never bow to anyone is the best sub I’ve ever shared my life with.
“Good girl,” I praise her. She smiles, her gaze drifting down my body, all the way to the floor.
There’s no time for everything I wanted to do with her tonight, but I see no point in rushing this. I make my way to the nightstand, pulling out the blindfold that has seen more use in the past six weeks than ever before. Holly once told me she gets wet as soon as she sees the blindfold, so tonight I reach between her slightly parted legs to see if she was exaggerating. My fingers slide through her drenched folds with no resistance.
“You want this, baby?” I whisper in her ear. As soon as she opens her mouth to respond, I press my finger against her tongue, encouraging her to taste herself. Seeing and feeling her eagerly cleaning her essence off my finger causes me to grow harder. I’m going to have to get out of these jeans soon; otherwise, we’re going to have a problem. “That’s right, suck it hard,” I urge her. Being the good girl she is, she applies more pressure, sucking my finger into her mouth to the last knuckle.
“You weren’t lying about how much you love this thing, were you?” She shakes her head as I pull her hair into a low ponytail. When her hand moves from its position behind her body to reach for my cock, I bat her away. “You know the rules.”
Once the blindfold is in place, I don’t have to tell her what to do. There’s no footboard on the bed in her room, so she’s bent over further than normal as her forearms rest flat against the bed with her ass in the air.
“You’re a brat,” I say, trying to keep from laughing at the way her ass is swaying back and forth, begging for her punishment. “Do you get to do what you want to me without asking permission?”
“No, Sir,” she whimpers. “I’m sorry, Sir. I couldn’t help myself. I needed to feel--”
“Quiet!” Where a calmer voice than this caused her to jump in the kitchen, here in the bedroom is makes her writhe in anticipation. I squeeze the globe of her ass, massaging the skin, preparing it for what’s to come. I land one hard slap to the right side, immediately turning my hand to slide my fingers toward her clit. I know my girl, know she’s nearly dripping for me. My finger dips inside her pussy and I’m gifted with an unrestrained moan. Her hips sway, attempting to fuck my hand, to give herself the relief she knows I’m going to withhold.
My hand quickly pulls out of her body and away from her. “Not yet,” I admonish. I repeat the process on the other side: massage, slap, finger. This time, I barely dip my middle finger inside before pulling back. She disobeyed and needs to learn what happens to impatient girls.
I stand behind her, knowing she can feel my presence but not see where I am. This time, I haven’t told her how many swats she has earned and her ass wiggles before me, her way of silently begging me for more. And to think, it wasn’t that long ago she swore she would never allow a man to place a hand on her, even in such an erotic way.
Slap! My hand lands on her right cheek again, this time leaving a clear, red handprint on her beautiful white ass. She screams at the contact, and then moans when I thrust two fingers deep inside her tight channel. “Oh my God, I’m so fucking close,” she moans. With every gasp of pleasure she lets out, my cock hardens more.
My hands caress her ass, soothing the tender skin, before I release a quick succession of slaps to each side. When my hand slides between her legs once more, her juices coat me. “You love that, don’t you?” I ask her.
“Yes, Sir,” she sighs. I feel the muscles of her thighs tense and know it’s taking everything in her to keep from moving. “Please, I need more,” she begs.
I unzip my jeans, reaching into my back pocket before allowing them to drop to the floor. The funny thing is, until Holly, I never carried a condom in my wallet. Now, I feel the need to be prepared at any time because she can turn me on with the slightest touch or comment.
“You want to feel me here?” I ask, rubbing my finger across the tight rosebud of her ass. She pushes back against my finger, causing it to dip inside that tight hole. “Answer me, baby,” I insist, pulling my hand back before landing one final blow to her ass.
“Yes,” she pleads. “Please, Sir! I want you to take me everywhere.”
No matter how many times I hear it, the sound of her calling me ‘Sir’ never gets old. I don’t demand it of her because of the resistance she gave me at first. The fact that she chooses to use this name means more than if she were simply following my wishes.
“Not right now, baby,” I purr in her ear. She needs to get going. I don’t want her to be late enough that it would be a sign of disrespect, just as late as she
needs to be for her to remember whose she is. “Lie down on the bed,” I order her. When she goes to slide onto the bed, I hold her hips in place so she’s bent over at the waist. “Just like that.”
I spread her ass wide, taking in the beauty that is her dripping pussy. If I watch closely, I can see her body pulsing, cum seeping out of her wet hole. I grip my sheathed cock, guiding it through her slit before stroking it along her swollen clit.
“Please, Sir, please!” She’s pleading so earnestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if she bursts into tears soon.
I put an end to the suffering for both of us as I allow my steel hard cock to push slowly inside her body. She’s so ready for me; it’s as if the walls of her pussy are sucking me deeper. I place a foot on the bed next to her hip, giving me deeper penetration.
“Fuck me, Sir!” She screams and I increase my pace, my balls slapping against her clit with every thrust. As she nears climax, I slow my strokes. When I pull out of her, I swear I’m the one about to double over. I need to feel her around me, but I can’t let her come. Not yet.
“You like that, baby?” I groan, willing myself away from the edge. When I slip back inside of her, I’m overcome with the sensation. Feeling her clench around me is enough, but I can also hear how wet she is for me, smell the scent of our combined arousal.
“Yes, Sir,” she affirms breathlessly.
“Spread your cheeks,” I command. When she complies, I look down at where our bodies are joined, watching myself disappear into my personal slice of Heaven.
I seat myself so I’m buried deep inside her hot core, pivoting my hips, taunting the spot I’ve learned makes her lose all control. The erotic mewls coming from her body send my balls tight against my body.
“Is that what you need?” I give her one short thrust, causing her body to jerk against me.
“Mmmm,” she responds. She’s hit the point where she’s unable to speak and I know it won’t be long before she’s milking every drop of cum from my cock.
“Please, no,” she cries when I pull out of her body again.
“Patience, baby,” I soothe her. She so fucking receptive I can hardly stand it.
I drag my finger through her juices again, taking a moment to taunt her hardened bud. When her back arches off the bed, I push her back down with my other hand, holding her shoulders firm to the mattress.
I bury myself inside her body in one forceful thrust this time, needing to feel her around me at the moment she loses control. Once our bodies develop a synchronized rhythm, I take my moist finger and gently push it into her ass. This time, there’s no holding her down.
“Fuck!” She screams as her upper body arches back. “More, Tommy! Need…More!” She begs through ragged breaths. I start alternating thrusts, cock in her pussy, then finger in her ass. Back and forth, back and forth. It takes all of about a second of my fingers tapping out a rhythm on her clit before she explodes, taking me with her.
I collapse over her, my arms supporting me so I don’t crush her small frame.
“I’m going to be late,” she sighs contently.
I can’t help but laugh. Leave it to Holly to say exactly what comes to mind, appropriate or not.
“You still have my cock buried inside of you and you’re worried about being late to dinner?” I say, trying my hardest to sound upset. “And with my best friend, no less?”
I pull out of her but don’t move from my position over her body. Suddenly, I don’t give a shit if Dylan gets upset; I’m not in the mood to let her go. I would much rather keep her tied to my bed all night and see how many times I can make her come.
I begin to panic as I walk into Last Chance. I haven’t been here since the night Nathan brought me so I could repay my debts to him and Nick. It feels cruel that this is where Dylan chose for me to meet him so we can ‘talk’. If I didn’t have faith in his loyalty to Tommy, I’m not sure I could go through with this meeting for fear it’s a set up.
“I’m looking for Dylan Caprese,” I say to the bartender as I look around the empty club. I’ve never been here when it’s empty and today that’s only heightening my anxiety.
“He had to run an errand real quick. Told me to get you whatever you want to drink and he’ll be back soon.” The bartender reminds me of myself. She’s quirky and has a sarcastic air about her. She’s the type of person I could see being friends with if circumstances were different. Right now, I really can’t handle getting close to anyone else because I’ve already stretched the comfort zone so far I’m waiting for it to break.
“Thanks, I’ll just have some water,” I respond, taking a seat on one of the high stools. I look up and try to pay attention to the hockey game. I know nothing about the sport, but it seems safer than looking around as if I’m lost and risking the bartender talking to me.
By the time Dylan returns, I’m starting to figure out some of the high-level details of the game and I’m actually enjoying it. I’m not saying I see myself sitting down for every game, but it’s quite interesting to watch the grace with which these burly men glide from one end of the rink to the other.
“Holly, thanks for meeting me.” He stands next to me and, for the first time, I realize why Tasha can’t keep her hands off Dylan. Now that I’m not wearing goggles clouded by bitterness and anger, I see that he’s an incredibly sexy man and, even though I’m utterly smitten with Tommy, I find myself resisting the urge to beg permission to lick one of his dimples. Stop, Holly. He treats you like the shit on the bottom of his shoe. Don’t let his looks fool you this time.
“Did I have a choice?” I speak without thinking and regret the words immediately. Tommy did such a good job of distracting me earlier that the bitterness I feel toward Dylan had been shoved on the back burner until now when he’s standing in front of me.
“You always have choices, Holly,” he says to me with a sincere smile. “But I really am glad you agreed to meet me. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had told me to fuck off instead.” He stares into the distance for a moment. “In fact, I think I was more expecting that.”
I understand why he might think I would react that way, but as much as I don’t care for him right now, with the help of sobriety, I can understand why he feels the way he does. If he had been the one to do the things to Tasha that I did, I would have castrated him and fed him his own balls for dinner.
The waitress comes over to our table, taking our orders for dinner. My stomach is twisted in so many knots as I look around the club that I’m really not hungry, but given the promises Tommy made me for tonight, I know I’m going to need my energy.
We sit quietly, both of us avoiding eye contact with the other. Finally, it’s Dylan who breaks the silence. “Look, I have some things I need to say to you. You’re not going to like some of them, but I hope you will hear me out.”
I’ve spent the past months spending so much energy hating Holly for what she’s done that I feel as though I’m sitting across the table from someone I’ve never met. This Holly is so far removed from the one I knew from Marquee or the early part of my relationship with Tasha that it hammers home what a dick I’ve been.
“Okay,” Holly responds, not looking up from her glass of water. She’s sitting there poking at a lemon slice with her straw and I’m tempted to wrap my hand around hers to still her, but I get the distinct feeling she needs something else to occupy her mind right now. It could very well be the only thing keeping her from screaming at me right now.
“First, I need to tell you that I’m sorry,” I say with confidence I do not feel on the inside. It’s a strange feeling for me to be this unsure of what I’m doing. That is only heightened by the fact that I’m unsure because I hate having to admit some of what I’m planning on telling her. No one knows, not even Zeke or Tasha, but thanks to one phone call, I have a feeling I’m going to need to make amends with Holly so she’ll be my ally in the very near future.
Unexpected Protector (Isthmus Alliance) Page 16