Don't Hold Back_To Have and to Hold

by Renee Dominick

  He sat in the chair next to hers. “Not at all. Why would I be?”

  “I don’t know. I thought maybe you thought I’d been disloyal or something, when the others were teasing you coming out of the barn.”

  “That wasn’t you. I was upset I lost track of time.” And then his gorgeous blue eyes twinkled, even as he maintained a stern expression. “I did look hard-ridden, though.”

  Jenna smiled a little. “In a good way.”

  “No thanks to your handprint. That’s $3.50 in dry cleaning you owe me.”

  Her shoulders jerked with a laugh that wasn’t quite big enough to make it outside of her body. “I’m good for it.”

  He pushed up from the chair. “You going up?” he asked, indicating the lofted dining area with a tip of the head.

  “Ms. McCaffrey?” Emma called. “You’re all set.” She held up Jenna’s credit card.

  “You go on,” Jenna told Rob. “I have to take care of this.”

  She and Emma watched him go, taking in the full, arresting view that was his backside as he climbed the stairs. “Not bad, is he?” Jenna said.

  Emma blushed again. Jenna left her there to her fantasies and followed Rob to the private dining room.

  Chloe pulled her aside the second she stepped through the doors. “Your mom is trying to get a hold of you.”

  “She did call your parents.” Jenna emitted a strangled noise of frustration.

  “Yes, but seriously, it’s no big deal. They just asked me to let you know.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Jenna hugged her best friend in all the world. Chloe had stood by her through thick and thin, through so much bullshit, so much craziness. She’d been Jenna’s touchstone to what a normal family should look like, and Jenna never meant for Chloe to get smeared with the McCaffrey family sludge. “She called the front desk, too. I texted her back. Hopefully, she’ll relax, knowing she’s tracked me down. I’ll call her after dinner.”

  “It’s no big deal. Not even a little deal. It’s a nothing deal.” Chloe gripped Jenna’s arms before giving her a hug.

  After the pep talk, Jenna threw herself into her duties, circulating and socializing, even managing to occupy the same circle as Rob without her saying anything that would make him feel awkward. They’d gone back to their respective corners, but he seemed to be keeping an eye on her. Whether it was wariness on his part, or an awareness of her, Jenna couldn’t tell, but it left her with a hazy sense of being watched over, as if he thought she needed protection and was willing to provide it. She kind of liked it.

  Not so much that she was willing to return the favor, though. When Talia and Rachel flanked him right before dinner arrived, he mouthed, “Help me” to Jenna. She gave him two thumbs-up, and a big smile.

  The best man, Ryan, called for a toast, and they all found their seats. Jenna and Rob both sat at the head table, but at opposite ends. Rachel was at the table abutting his, and Jenna sat next to an almost silent Natalie. The meal was incredible, but when it was over, Jenna was desperate for a change of atmosphere. She took her dish of sorbet and made her way to the makeshift bar where the guys were doing after-dinner tequila shots. When they insisted Jenna join them—apparently in honor of her being the catalyst for this night, having introduced the bride and groom, lucky her—her protest was completely ignored.

  Thankfully, she only had to do one, because shortly after that, Chloe and Dave left, and in their wake, most of the rest of the partygoers drifted away, too, until it was down to Jenna and two groomsmen she didn’t know well, who were sharing the last of the tequila and talking business in a lingo she didn’t understand. She left them to it and headed back to her cabin, fishing for her card key while she trudged up the hill in the dark. But she stopped dead in her tracks when she got within sight of the door.

  The Do Not Disturb sign dangled from the knob. A long, white rectangle of NOPE.

  Chapter Five

  Shit. Jenna hadn’t given more than a cursory thought to that conversation, definitely not about it turning into reality. She had no back-up plan for where to sleep.

  Who the hell was in there? She tried to recall who’d looked cozy with whom during the evening and wondered whether Rachel might have made good on her aim. The thought had Jenna’s feet shuffling backward. No, she didn’t want to know. She hurried away before she could hear anything she would regret, back to the lodge where she could consider her options.

  Chloe’s room was out, obviously, as was crashing with Dave’s college buddies. She’d had enough years around them, and they’d just tease her and make it weird. Jenna didn’t know the other bridesmaids well enough to ask them, and she had seen the look on Natalie’s face when Ryan came to the table after dinner. No way was she asking Natalie.

  Which left waiting it out in the lobby, or…relieving her curiosity. Because she really, really did want to know if Rob was in her room with Rachel, even if she would hate the answer.

  Cool air rushed out the lobby door and Jenna shivered, wishing she’d grabbed a shawl or sweater earlier, but the smell of fresh-baked cookies invited her inside. Karma didn’t hate her after all. Jenna picked two from the basket, both still warm, then headed down the hallway toward the lodge rooms.

  Rob answered her knock with a toothbrush in his hand like a weapon. “Jenna.” How did he do that, pack so much frustration into one word?

  He had undressed part way, leaving his undershirt half untucked, his slacks unbuttoned, and his belt hanging loose in the loops. She had no right to the relief she felt, but she was happy for it anyway.

  “Cookie?” she asked. It only then occurred to her that just because he wasn’t in her cabin, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have someone in his room. She leaned a bit to the left.

  He tossed away his toothbrush—she heard the faint clatter of it landing on a hard surface—took the cookies from her hand and set them somewhere, then flicked the security latch out so it would block the door from locking. Then he stepped into the hall, cutting off her view inside. “What are you doing here?”

  She tried to read him, but the stern facade thwarted her this time. “Do you have company?”

  “Would it matter if I did?” Without her quite being aware of it, he’d backed her across the hall. Something rebellious stirred inside her when her heels hit the baseboard. In some sort of Pavlovian response, she raised her hands to his chest.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, it would. I have a favor to ask.”

  Rob braced his hand on the wall beside her head, and the sleeve of his T-shirt rode over his bicep. Between that and the outline of his pecs under her fingers, Jenna thought he really was more fit than a professor should be. He would be totally distracting in class.

  An overwhelming urge hummed inside her. To explore every plane, every groove, every point and line and hollow of his body.

  “What kind of favor?” he asked, his voice soft, drawing her attention completely. He pressed his forehead to hers, his lips close enough she could reach them if she dared.

  “My cabin-mates made an agreement,” she said quietly. “If the Do Not Disturb sign is on the door…” She waved her hand in circles. “You know.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “Well, it’s up, so I need a place to wait.”

  “You know that’s a terrible idea.”

  “Why? I promised you I’d behave.”

  He brushed the long front pieces of her hair back and gave himself access to her ear. “What if I don’t want you to behave?”

  It was a good thing he had her backed against the wall. His voice was pure, gravelly distress, and heat poured off him, filled with intoxicating chemicals her body detected, even if her conscious senses couldn’t. She felt their effect in her breasts and between her legs and in the instability of her knees. “I guess you’ll have to decide.”

  He cupped her breast, his thumb tracking back and forth. “You’re my worst nightmare, you know that?”

  “Who scares you more, Rob? Me, or you?”

>   “Fuck, you are so brutal.”

  “Funny.” She raised her hands to brush her thumbs across the nubs of his nipples, too. “I was thinking similar things about you, earlier.” His gaze was a slow burn Jenna didn’t want to interpret on her own. She’d made enough mistakes with him. Instead, she brushed her lips against his. “What do you want from me, Rob?”

  He encircled her wrists but didn’t pull her hands away. “You know exactly what I want, but even thinking about it feels like ten kinds of wrong.”

  “If you think I’m going to tell you not to touch me, try again. You’re on your own, pal.”

  He raked his fingers into her hair, holding on near the roots, anchoring her, and then he kissed her. Hard. Years of frustration seeming to pour out in the form of whiskers abrading her chin and upper lip, of teeth nipping and pulling, and fingers clenching. Wordlessly begging, demanding. It was incendiary. He took her breath, her thoughts, her questions, and stopped them all.

  As suddenly as it started, it calmed. His tongue dipped inside her mouth, tasting and suckling her, and then his hands were gone from her head, gone to cling to her ass instead, like a man drowning. He lifted her against him, making clear her effect on him was not just a ghost of their past, but very much in their present.

  “Jenna, please tell me to stop,” he whispered.

  “Fine,” she said, panting softly. “Stop. We’re in the hall.”

  He laughed without humor and glared up at the ceiling, then at her. He looked tortured.

  “Take me inside, Rob. It’s okay.”

  They were across the hall in one step, Jenna’s hand clasped in his. He straight-armed the door open, then pivoted her against the wall inside as it banged against the metal flange of the security lock. He flipped it away, and the door clicked shut, securing them inside.

  Jenna ran her hands underneath his shirt, pushed it up over smooth skin, exposed the taut ridges and curves she’d known she would find. She pressed her lips to the circle of his areola and he cupped her ass again. Emboldened, she grazed him with her teeth, touched her tongue to his skin, circled his taut nipple. Tasted him, and then sucked him in.

  His fingers clamped down hard enough to give her a bite of pain, and he hissed in a breath. “Jesus, Jenna.”

  A dangerous, heady satisfaction swamped her, making her feel invincible, like a wicked genie rising from a lamp. She put her lips to the hollow of his throat and let the heavy beat of his pulse soak into her. “Poor Rob.”

  She worked her hands lower, over soft denim, skimming her nails over his cock, from tip to root and farther, deeper between his legs. He made no move to stop her.

  Her blood was so loud in her ears she couldn’t hear herself think, but then again, who needed to? They were running on pure instinct, now. She rocked her hips against his, and the sound he made—a growl of desire, a groan of resignation, an exclamation of agony, all woven together—fuck, it was so satisfying after all this time.

  And then his hand was back in her hair, twisting, easing her head back. The expression on his face was almost painful to witness. Need and desire at war with whatever was holding him back. Frustration with her, or with himself. She couldn’t tell.

  He flushed, those ruddy flags bursting onto his face, so sexy and telling. He towed her with him as he backed up, until his legs hit the bed and his belt was snapping through the loops of his pants. And then his hands were bunched in the skirt of her dress. Silky jersey brushing her bare legs, cool air rushing over her skin as he exposed more and more of her until there was nothing between his hands and her bare bottom. He palmed her, his fingers spreading and curving, his hand skimming, shaping her. He grazed along the waistband of her G-string, then followed the narrow strip of fabric between the cheeks of her ass.

  “Fuck, Jenna,” he whispered. As if she’d gutted him and not the other way around. He took her with him when he sat, the bed lowering beneath them.

  Her knees splayed outside his thighs, and he pulled her against his erection. Her body ran amok, hormones and nerves all spilling and chasing in every direction. There wasn’t an inch of her that didn’t feel electrified, that didn’t need to be touched and licked and sucked. By him.

  She needed relief, but Rob had gone still. All but the rise and fall of his chest. Just as he’d done to her, she wove her fingers into the thick, shockingly soft mass of his hair and made him look at her. She wouldn’t let him play her. “Fuck me or let go. There’s no middle here, Rob.”

  …

  Jenna had been sixteen the first time she showed up at their house with Chloe, and already she had a reputation as a girl who would give a guy a blow job on the bus. As drawn as Rob had been to her, even then, he’d avoided her like the plague. The one time she caught him, he’d been so unprepared, so completely paralyzed by the feel of her—warm and soft and willing—she was able to put his hands where she wanted them, and hers where she wanted, and he ceded everything to her. Then she shocked the fuck out of him with those three whispered words. Literally.

  He’d known from that day she could make him do whatever she needed. Whatever he needed. He wanted to give in, to explore and enjoy. He just didn’t know how.

  She kissed his chin, licked up the outward curve of his lower lip and sucked it in. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “You can let go.”

  With a groan that seemed to come up from his depths, he drew a line up her throat with his tongue. His kiss was inelegant and wild, full of all the brute feelings overrunning him. His fingers dragged along the crease where her bottom met her thigh, then ventured farther, deeper, slipping through her wetness, and the affirmation of his effect on her fed the worst of him. He wanted to make her ache, make her beg, but that was a step too far. If he took it, he’d never turn back. He breathed deep and slowed, mapping her body, stopping for further exploration when she hitched a breath or encouraged him in soft whispers. There. Yes. Oh, that.

  And then he eased back, his eyes locked on hers as he slipped a finger, and then a second, into her warmth. She clenched around him, and when he stroked inside her, she pressed her mouth against the crook of his neck, muffling all the glorious dirty things coming out of her mouth. A terrible, cocky pleasure surged through him.

  She arched her back, a plea if ever he saw one, and he laughed quietly. He smoothed his hands away, resting them on her hips, just to see what she’d do.

  “Don’t you dare stop now,” Jenna whispered furiously, fumbling between them to open his fly. She traced the outline of his cock through his underwear, her thumb and fingers going right to the ridges and grooves that made him twitch and throb in her hand. He sucked in a breath when she pushed past his waistband, her soft fingers running down, curving under his balls, and pulling back up. He counted to five, and then ten. She was killing him. He had to stop her. If they were doing this, he wanted to do it right, draw it out, enjoy every second of pleasure between them.

  He reached for the straps of her dress, and her shoulders sagged for him as he worked down her bodice, exposed her breasts and berry-dark nipples. She’d shown him exactly what she liked once, and he did it again now, drawing her through the sharp edges of his teeth, sucking and pulling with a strength he thought must be painful. Her inhales and quiet moans encouraged him, though, ratcheted him up, threatened to make him abandon control again. He sucked and then licked away the stings, took hold of her ass and thrust his cock along her pelvic ridge. He couldn’t stop himself.

  Jenna wound her arms around his head and neck, rocking hard against him. “There, Rob. Oh God, perfect.”

  A static buzz deafened him, and everything coiled tight deep at the base of his spine. “Fuck, wait, Jenna.” He flattened his palm against her tailbone, his fingers splayed, half slowing her, half urging her on. It only made things worse.

  “Stop. You’re going to make me come.”

  “Now, Rob. Please, now.” She gripped his body with her arms and legs and convulsed against him, gasping into his ear, finishing him with her moans. His v
ision went black and his cock jerked furiously, spilling in his briefs.

  “Fu-uck,” he said, drawing the word out as he collapsed onto the bed, taking Jenna with him. She covered him with her body and nuzzled into his neck, but after a minute he said, “Why is it you always turn me into some staggering idiot?”

  “What?” She levered up. “That. Was. Awesome.” She ran her fingers lightly over his chest and belly. “I mean, yeah, it was a dry hump, which is kind of high school, but whatever. It’s not like we had a lot of choices without a condom. I guess we could have just masturbated for each other.”

  He gaped at her, a sense of prudish inadequacy creeping over him. “God, Jenna. Sometimes you’re shameless.”

  “Why, because I’m not hiding behind a pompous facade? Maybe you could use a little less shame.”

  No, he needed every ounce he could muster. He needed to forge a fucking hide of it to keep himself in check, from thinking he could leave his zone and take her on. She was an existential threat to everything he valued most about himself. Reason. Self-control. Vigilance. The fact that she was trying to goad him into an outburst only made the threat more acute. “We’re too different to be compatible, Jenna.”

  “Rob, this is fine, it’s okay. We’re consenting adults having a good time.”

  She was a temptation he thought he could handle until he actually tried, like riding a rogue wave or storm chasing. The notion might be thrilling, but for the risk-averse, it could never end well. He tipped her onto the bed and trailed the backs of his fingers over her breast one last time before getting to his feet. Then he shoved his fingers through his hair, raking it off his forehead. “Maybe it’s not fine for me. I don’t know. I have to clean up. You’re welcome to stay.”

  She drew up her dress, eyeing him critically. “Ah, so we’re back to that.”

  “Back to what?”

  “Jenna, the bad girl, and Rob, the mannequin.”