Holding Strong

by Lori Foster

  So much temptation. He wanted to be sliding deep right now. He wanted to kiss every inch of her.

  And oddly enough, he wanted to just hold her.

  She shifted her feet for leverage, then writhed against him. “I need you, Denver.”

  Her enthusiasm scorched him. “So hot.” And all his. “Let me grab a rubber.” He was already so far gone that if he didn’t take care of it now, he might not get around to it. That would leave them open to one consequence neither of them needed.

  Giving him a heated look, she whispered, “Hurry.”

  Lust darkened her face, left her brown eyes smoky. Her nipples were tight points, her belly hollowed out, and she couldn’t keep still, shifting in ways that looked sexy as hell. “You really are in a bad way, aren’t you, girl.”

  “I’m in bed with you, Denver.” Stark emotion sounded in every word. “You always make me this way.”

  Sitting up, he snagged his jeans off the chair and fished in a pocket for his wallet to retrieve his lone condom. As he fumbled with that—literally fumbled, with shaking hands and heavy breathing—Cherry came up behind him, moving against him. He felt her nipples on his back, then she reached beyond him and dropped her panties to the floor.

  Damn.

  Her hot little tongue came out to lick his ear. “Soon,” she whispered, “we’re going to have time enough for me to explore every inch of your big body.”

  He closed his eyes and fought for control, but he knew it’d be a very close thing. “Damn right.” He could barely keep himself in check. “But tonight isn’t it.”

  Naked, the condom in place, he turned and kissed her. Together they dropped back to the mattress, his hands on her everywhere, her hands just as busy.

  He needed her ready. Now.

  With openmouthed kisses, he made his way down her throat to her breasts where he spent a few minutes suckling her again. He loved the ragged catch in her breathing, her lusty sighs and soft, high gasps.

  Wanting to eat her up, he took a gentle love bite of her midriff, her flat belly, the tender inside of her thigh.

  “Denver.”

  “Shhh.” He opened her, looked at her, breathed her in—and tasted her. Her hips rose against the stroke of his tongue, letting him know how much she liked that. No problem, because he loved it. The taste of her, the feel of her sleek, swollen flesh, her scent and the provoking sounds she made deep in her throat.

  He ate her gently, forcing himself to be patient until he knew she was close. He levered up to see her, pleased that she had her head back, her bottom lip caught in her teeth, her hands held tight in the sheets.

  Needing her, now, he pressed two fingers deep, then groaned. “You’re wet, girl. But so tight.” Moving over her, he opened her legs and positioned his straining boner against her. He was met by silky wetness and heat and it nearly destroyed his determination. “I’m going to work in slow and easy. Just relax for me.”

  Instead she hooked one leg around his hips while running her hands over his chest and shoulders. “Now, Denver.”

  As he rocked in she winced, causing him to slow even more. “Relax,” he told her again.

  Her eyes opened, big and dark and dazed with need. She looked at him with love, leveling him.

  “Cherry...”

  “I need you. All of you.” She braced herself, and whispered, “Now.”

  “Fuck.” He tried to hold off, tried to temper the raw explosion of emotions, but she broke him. Gathering her closer, holding her tight, he gave one hard thrust that sank him deep.

  On a cry, her sharp little teeth closed on his shoulder and her sex squeezed him even tighter. The bite turned into a hot, wet kiss; the cry into a hungry purr.

  She squirmed as she adjusted to him, each small movement urging him on.

  The things she made him feel, disturbing in their intensity, encouraged him to ride her hard while also cherishing her.

  He settled for a deep but steady rhythm and she kept pace, her pleasure building, her low cries growing sharper, higher. He kissed her even as he felt her tightening, her fingertips digging into his back, her body lifting—she freed her mouth as she came, keening sharply, and that turned him on, too, enough that he immediately joined her.

  Little by little the blinding pleasure receded, taking with it all his tension. He rested over her on his forearms, careful not to give her all his weight.

  Softly, sweetly, Cherry kissed his shoulder.

  “Now,” she whispered, “wasn’t that better than sleeping?”

  His laugh turned into a groan as he moved to the side of her.

  Laying his hand on her thigh, he tried to come to grips with his feelings for her. He had a lot on his plate, including the big fight coming up. He needed to refocus on that, and he would. But he’d also make time for this, for being with her, being there for her, enjoying the way she ramped up his lust only to numb him with mind-blowing pleasure.

  Turning into him, Cherry glided her hand over his biceps and let out a satisfied breath. “I hope Merissa didn’t hear us.”

  Oh shit. His breath stalled, his eyes widening.

  He’d totally forgotten that they weren’t alone. Looking at the ceiling, he wondered how soundproof the house might be.

  He turned his head to look at Cherry, and crushing emotion struck him again. Damn, she was so beautiful, and right now she looked like a satisfied, well-laid woman.

  Curiosity got the better of him and he asked, “Have you ever heard Merissa having sex?”

  Eyes closed, Cherry smiled in that womanly, secretive way. “No. Not ever. Rissy doesn’t really bring guys here.” Her lashes lifted. “I think she’s in love with Armie.”

  “Yeah.”

  Her brows lifted. “You knew?”

  “I think about everyone does except him.”

  She let that go and instead concentrated on his torso, her fingers drifting through his chest hair, following that down to his abs. “You’re going to destroy that guy when you fight.”

  “You think so?” He knew he would, but he wondered at Cherry’s level of understanding of the sport.

  Giving him an impish smile and wrinkling her nose, she said, “He waxes everything. His chest, his legs. Even his underarms.”

  Denver grinned. “And that somehow means I can beat him?”

  “Yes. While you’re working out, staying so fit and strong, he’s off grooming. He’s a wuss. You’ll annihilate him.”

  “You’re nuts.” He dipped his head to kiss her nose. “Guys get rid of the hair so it doesn’t snag or pull when they’re grappling.”

  “You don’t.” Crawling up and over him, she shifted her ministrations to his overlong hair, loosely tangling her small hands in it. “God, you are such a hunk.”

  Settling both hands over her ass, he smiled. “It was a really long day away from you, Cherry girl.”

  Her expression changed, going serious, even grim. “Denver.” She moved to the side of him to sit—leaving the sheet rumpled beneath her. “I have to call him.”

  They both knew who she meant. “Yeah.” He’d been thinking about it, and he wanted it behind them. “I know it’s bothering you. Best to get it out of the way.”

  Hopeful, she asked, “You understand?”

  He nodded. “As long as you understand that I won’t let him hurt you.”

  Her smile looked so sad it bothered him. “It’s not your responsibility—”

  “Hush with that, okay? If you want to be with me, then you need to know who I am. And, girl, I’m not a guy who’d let you be scared or worried. Not ever.”

  She wanted to argue the point, he could tell, the same way he knew she was holding back when she said, “I’ll call him tomorrow.”

  “I want to be there with you when you do.” If the bastard threatened her in any way, he wanted to know about it. And damn it, he couldn’t trust Cherry to tell him. “Okay?”

  Rather than agree, she evaded. “The longer I wait, the more annoyed he’s going to be.”
r />   “Am I supposed to give a shit if he’s annoyed?”

  “You should.” She chewed her bottom lip in indecision, but then must have come to a conclusion. “He’s dangerous, Denver.”

  “So am I.”

  As if to pacify him, she touched his arm. “I know, but not in the same way.”

  For whatever reason, Carver and his brothers had a stranglehold on her. He’d have to tread lightly, because no way would he hurt her—not ever again.

  Stomping down his irritation, he removed her hand. “Give me a second, okay?” He left the bed and went into her small bathroom to get rid of the condom, giving himself a moment to get his thoughts together.

  When he returned, he found Cherry sitting there exactly as he’d left her, unconcerned with her nudity.

  It was a wonder he could think at all, seeing her like this, knowing she was his for the taking.

  He got into bed with her, sitting with his back against the headboard. “Let’s call him now.”

  Her face went blank. “Now?”

  “Yeah.” He had a feeling if he didn’t press the issue right now, while he was with her, she’d take care of it as soon as he was gone.

  “You said you understood.”

  “I do. Now you need to understand that I want to share problems. And he’s a problem.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Share problems?”

  Why did that bother her so much? She professed to care about him. She’d chased him ’til she got him. Now she could deal with the reality of it.

  Feeling magnanimous, he explained, “That’s the way relationships work.”

  “Oh, really?” She rose to her knees. “So you’ll discuss with me how what’s his name—” Snapping her fingers, she said, “You know.”

  “Who?”

  “The guy you’re fighting next.”

  “Packer?” What the fuck?

  “Right. Packer. Are we going to work out together how to keep him from fighting dirty?”

  Denver scratched the top of his head, unsure where she was going with this. “I don’t know what—”

  She almost pounced on him. “The guys told me he’s a dirty fighter. That he keeps his open hand out so he can poke his opponents in the eyes.”

  Snorting, Denver explained patiently, “It’s happened a few times. Doesn’t mean he—”

  “Yes, it does!” She leaned into him, all ready to make a point of some sort. “Miles said Packer can’t win against you unless he cheats. He said the last three guys who fought him ended up hurt. Brand told me that the ref gives a warning, then maybe takes away a measly point, but—”

  Denver laughed, he couldn’t help it. She looked damned cute in her umbrage.

  Apparently humor was the wrong way to go. His laugh set her off, but he tumbled her before anger could drive her from the bed. Wrestling with her was fun, especially since she didn’t actually try to hurt him.

  He watched her boobs as she struggled against him, kneed her legs open to settle over her, then smiled.

  “Get off,” she insisted.

  Keeping her pinned down, drawn to the mulish set of her mouth, he kissed her.

  She shoved against him. “No!”

  “Yes.” He kissed her again, then kept on kissing her until she went soft beneath him. “You always taste so damn good,” he murmured as he worked his way along her jaw, her throat, her shoulder. “You have the sweetest, softest skin.” He released her wrists so he could cup her breasts. “All over.”

  She slid her fingers across his shoulders. “You’re like hard, warm steel.”

  “My shoulders?” he teased.

  “Mmm,” she teased right back. “And other places.”

  It amazed him how quickly Cherry could lose her pique and get interested, sexually, again. Amazed and pleased him. A lot.

  Gathering her close, Denver sat up with her on his lap. “Problems.”

  Groaning, she went limp in his arms in a dramatic fall.

  He laughed, cuddling her closer to give her a smacking kiss on her mouth. “First, you told me no and I ignored it.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “We were tussling,” he explained. “I need you to know that if you’re ever serious, I wouldn’t—”

  “Denver.” She teasingly bit his bottom lip. “I already know you would never cross the line. You respect women too much for that.”

  Damn. It humbled him, her faith and her understanding. “True. Thank you for knowing it.” But she needed to know the full truth. “With you, it’s more than that. I care about you.”

  Her eyes warmed, and her smile went sweet and silly. In a whisper, she said, “I care a lot about you, too.”

  Did she love him? No, he didn’t want to ask. They had too much to deal with already. “Now, second.” Boasting only a little, he explained, “Packer isn’t going to get a chance to poke me in the eye.”

  “But Miles said—”

  He’d share his ire with Miles later. “I’ve watched Packer’s fights, I know how he thinks and how he moves, I have a plan, and yes, I’ll take him apart—without an eye poke. So don’t worry about it. But,” he said over her protest, “if I do have a problem, I’ll discuss it with you. I promise.”

  She clearly hadn’t expected that. “Even with fighting?”

  “Sure. I don’t expect you to totally grasp all the nuances of the sport, but it’s always nice to talk things out anyway.”

  Looking absurdly pleased, she said, “I could be a sounding board.”

  “You’re too sexy to ever be called that,” he growled against her neck. “But I enjoy talking with you. You’re a good listener.”

  “I’m also smart.”

  “Yes, you are.And that brings us back to Carver.”

  Not liking the way he’d circled that around, she frowned. “I don’t want you in the middle of this.”

  Calm, he reminded himself. Stay calm. “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “Carver might...shoot off his mouth. Make threats. Say...ugly, idiot things.”

  “Things he’ll mean.”

  Her frown didn’t ease. “Please don’t let him provoke you.”

  “I like to think I have more control than that.”

  Her huff blasted him. “You’re going to insist on listening in?”

  “Not insist, no.” Though he wouldn’t mind laying on the guilt, not if it got him what he wanted. “But if you trust me, why can’t I listen? Especially when you know it’ll make me feel better.”

  After a lengthy, strained silence, he decided no answer was her answer. He picked up his cell. “Want me to do the honors?”

  Looking more troubled than a woman ever should, she shook her head and held out a hand. He gave her the phone.

  “Put it on speaker,” he told her.

  “Fine.”

  He knew her disgruntlement came from fear—for herself, and for him. Hoping to soften her temper, he said, “Thank you.”

  She sat there just looking at the phone until Denver finally asked, “Do you know the number?”

  “No.”

  For some reason that made him feel better. Maybe because it meant Carver had truly been removed from her life.

  He reached for his wallet and withdrew the slip of paper. “I wrote it down at the hotel when he left the message.”

  She took it from him, smoothed it out over her thigh. “Will you just listen? Not interrupt, not speak, not...let Carver know you’re here?”

  It was the oddest thing ever, having a woman worry for him. All his life he’d been bigger than most, strong, confident. People sometimes came to him with their concerns, but he couldn’t recall anyone fretting for him since his mother’s death. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll be so quiet he’ll never know I’m here.”

  Extreme relief stole the tension from her spine. “It is.”

  “Then I’ll be silent.” For now. “But Cherry, if he shows up here, if he even thinks about touching you—”

  “Let’s hope he doesn’t.�
� Before Denver could expound on dire threats, she touched in the numbers.

  Her face stark with anxiety, she held the phone in both hands and waited for Carver to answer.

  Hoping to soothe her, Denver tucked her hair back, then stroked his hand along her narrow back. Another novel experience, having a naked woman on his lap, making a call to a deranged punk while he promised to stay out of it.

  On the fourth ring, Carver said, “Yeah?”

  For the longest time, Cherry didn’t speak.

  Denver watched her, waiting, wanting to understand the awful hold Carver had on her.

  “It’s me,” she said at last.

  A static charge came through the silence, building in intensity until Carver sneered, “Well, well, Cherry darlin’.” Thick with malice, his laugh taunted her. “’Bout fucking time.”

  Cherry said nothing to that.

  “What took you so long? Your boyfriend occupying your time?”

  She didn’t look at Denver when she whispered, “No.” She inhaled, straightened her shoulders. “I don’t want to talk to you, Carver. Whatever it is—”

  “Did loverboy tell you Pops died?”

  “Yes. You have my condolences.”

  Mocking, he asked, “But you aren’t sorry to see him go?”

  Before his eyes, Denver saw her getting her sass back. He wanted to hug her, applaud her and somehow emotionally protect her.

  “You know I’m not.”

  “You little bitch,” Carver jeered. “He took you in, he fed you, he—”

  “The state fed me.” She narrowed her eyes. “Now what do you want?”

  Denver smiled at the bite in her tone, encouraging her and doing his utmost to keep his presence unknown. It wasn’t easy. He wanted to spare her—but he also wanted her to understand that he’d respect her wishes. Always.

  “You can start with a fucking apology for not calling me back sooner!”

  “Hold your breath while you wait for that.”

  He laughed. “Getting ballsy, huh? Guess I’ll have to see what I can do about that.”

  Cherry’s posture showed both anxiety and anger, but her tone remained credibly strong. “I’m hanging up now.”

  “If you do, I will make you so fucking sorry.”

  No mistaking that threat, and Denver shifted, his muscles automatically bunching in preparation for violence.