He latched on to my hips and pulled them tight against him, making me very aware of his arousal against my belly. "Can you handle this, Madelyn? Can you handle that I want you more than I've ever wanted anybody?" Glittering brown eyes stared down at me. "I've tried not to. God knows I've tried. I'm not supposed to, but I do."
He pushed me away and turned his back, running a hand through his hair leaving it to stick up in a messy, uncontrolled way. It fit his mood. He blew out a breath and braced his arms against the wall. I could see his muscles flexing where his sleeves were rolled up above his elbows.
Maybe it was the wine; I didn't know. Anyone with half a brain knows not to bait a raging bull. But apparently, I was only book smart because I tore into him. "Why, Holt? Why shouldn't you want me? Because I'm not like Claire? Because I'm a felon? Say it, Holt," I demanded, taking a step closer. "Say I'm not good enough for you. You think I don't already know that? Because--"
My words ground to a halt when he whirled to face me, grabbed me by the shoulders, and spun me until I was against the wall. His face swooped toward mine, only to stop mere inches from mine. His breathing was ragged as if he was fighting for control. I didn't think I was breathing at all, holding my breath to see what he was going to do.
To see if he would do what I wanted him to do.
"You're too good, Maddy, that's the problem," he rasped. "You deserve more than me, but fuck if I can stop. I have to know."
"Know what?" My words fell between us on a breath of air. I couldn't move, hypnotized by the glow in his eyes.
"What your lips taste like."
I couldn't process his words, so fast was his mouth on mine. One hand clasped the back of my neck while the other tangled in my hair along the side of my face. His thumb skimmed back and forth across my cheekbone while his lips moved along mine. They started off hard and angry before changing to soft and entreating. Over and over they alternately rubbed across my top and lower lips.
"So sweet," he whispered against them.
There was no thought of protest as I stood still, basking in being the recipient of my first kiss, but he'd mentioned tasting, and suddenly I wanted the same privilege. I had no experience to fall back on except good ole' feminine instinct, so I turned myself over to her. I copied his movements. Wanting to feel more than just his lips, I slid my hands over his chest and into his hair where I threaded my fingers into the thick waves.
"Maddy," he groaned. Worried I'd done something wrong or that he didn't like it I started to pull away, but he quickly embraced me tighter and held my head firmer, and suddenly it felt like he was taking small nips, actually tugging at my lower lip with his teeth. The sensation of a thousand butterflies releasing in my abdomen caused me to gasp, and that's when I felt him actually taste me. His tongue slowly licked the seam of my lips before gradually slipping past them. When I felt his tongue stroke mine, my own groan escaped, and I tentatively touched his in return.
Holt was not only tasting me, he was consuming me, and I was lost in the pleasure of it. Something like a growl vibrated from his throat as our tongues twisted and dueled. His hands slid down and clasped me under my ass and lifted me until I could fit his hardness between my thighs in exactly the right place. I clung to him with my legs, grinding against him while seeking to relieve the aching pressure that was building deep within me. His hips pinned me in place against the wall and rocked against me, strengthening a need that I longed to have fulfilled, yet terrifying me with the powerlessness I felt. I could no more control my desire than I could hold back the tide.
Warmth turned to heat between my legs. I wrenched my mouth away from Holt's and threw back my head, crying out as I splintered into a thousand pieces, exhilarated and terrified that I'd never come back together as the same person I'd been moments before.
Something resembling a whimper escaped my mouth as tiny tremors still wracked my body. Holt trailed gentle kisses from my mouth to my neck where he buried his face. I felt his ragged breathing while his hands clenched my backside and held me still against him. My head dropped to his shoulder, feeling like a pile of jelly, and not a little embarrassed at what had just happened, but not a bit sorry for it either. I couldn’t believe he’d been able to give me my first orgasm with only a kiss and our clothes still on.
"Maddy," he whispered, still not lifting his head. "I didn't mean...I'm sor--"
I lifted my head. "Don't," I whispered. I didn't need to hear his excuses or regrets.
He raised his head and gazed warily at me.
Heat scorched my cheeks, both from embarrassment and passion. "Please don't cheapen what just happened with an apology." My voice still sounded a little breathless, but I was able to inflect the firmness I wanted. I unwrapped my legs from his waist and my hands from his neck. They were trembling, so powerful had he made me come.
He loosened his grasp, allowing me to stand on my own two feet, and I took the necessary steps to move away from him.
“We should talk,” he said hoarsely.
"I…" My voice sounded squeaky. I cleared my throat and tried again. "I'm really tired. I’d rather just go to bed. If you don't mind, I'll clean this up in the morning," I said quietly.
He reached a hand out and opened his mouth as if to speak, but sighed and closed it, shoving his hands into his pockets. He looked as confused and upset as I felt. "Maddy…I…” He shook his head and stared at the floor. “Good night, Maddy."
Oddly relieved and disappointed at the same time that he didn't argue for me to stay, I turned and walked out, pausing briefly to look over my shoulder. I held onto the molding framing the entranceway as I took in how defeated he appeared. He hadn't moved at all, except to close his eyes and let his head bow and shoulders droop.
Hoping a shower would help cool off my still pulsing bloodstream, I stripped off my clothes. Peeling off my panties that were drenched from the release he’d given me, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was tousled, and my skin was flushed from head to toe. I skimmed my hands down my chest, across my breasts. I closed my eyes and imagined it was Holt. He said he wanted to taste my lips, but now I wished he’d tasted the rest of me as well. My fingers continued their journey, grazing over my warm core, still wet and sensitive.
Holt’s touch sparked incredible new feelings, like nothing I’d ever known existed. But then he apologized, spoiling what I thought had been a shared special moment. I didn’t want to hear him say he was sorry; didn’t want him to be sorry it happened. So I’d snuck out, trying to save both of our pride. So why did he look so miserable instead of relieved? And I wasn’t any happier here by myself.
Back in my bedroom, I went about my bedtime routine as if on autopilot. I turned out the light and lay there, uncertain of where we were to go from here. I heard his footsteps in the hall pause outside my room. I held my breath, not even sure what I wanted, but after a minute, they continued down the hall where I heard his door click shut.
I rolled over and clutched the pillow to me. Holt thought I needed him to protect me, but who was going to protect my heart from him?
25
Holt
The car ride to my parent's house was quiet. I'd started off making idle chitchat, but Maddy's softly spoken, mostly one-word answers as she stared out the window soon had me as quiet as her. The silence did nothing to distract me from thinking about the kiss we’d shared last night.
I knew it was a bad idea to kiss her. I had naively believed I could limit the contact to just a sample. But her response was so honest, her taste so sweet, I was all too soon lost in her touch. My dick grew rock hard within seconds, so when she began to rock her hips against me, it felt only natural to align her softness where I needed it most. Well almost. I’d wanted to remove the barrier of clothes, but thank God some semblance of rationale stuck around. Then, watching her come apart in my arms had been a beautiful and satisfying experience in its own way. It was seared permanently in my mind’s eye…and my dick’s. Just sitting next to her and smell
ing her sweet scent was enough to make him stir and remind me that last night’s and this morning’s episodes in the shower weren’t enough to satisfy him. Greedy bastard.
I hated the awkwardness that now existed between us. It was my fault - succumbing to a desire I had no right to. But having tasted her, feeling her innocent but uninhibited response, so natural and uncontrived, I only wanted more. She'd said she'd never had a boyfriend, so I was pretty sure that meant she was completely inexperienced in all sexual matters. And instead of a turnoff, it was a complete turn on. I wanted to be the one to teach her, experience all of her firsts.
The problem was, I wasn't sure I could give her every part of me, at least not yet, and she deserved nothing less. So selfishly, I needed some space even while I wasn’t willing to grant her the same reprieve. I knew it wasn't fair, but I wanted her near me.
I wasn't sure how long I could take today’s silence, but I was grateful I'd been able to talk her into accepting my mom's early morning invitation to come back and spend the day with my family. It couldn't have come at a better time; somehow I needed to make things right between us again, and allowing for more space and distance between us wasn't going to work in my favor. I could tell she was about to decline until I mentioned helping my niece and nephews carve Halloween pumpkins.
As if she couldn't help herself, her eyes lit with interest. Knowing what I did about her childhood, I suspected she'd never done many of the typical childhood rites of passage, like going all out for Halloween. So, like the lawyer I was, I pressed my argument harder. "Mom will be busy baking so Carol could probably use an extra hand, and you know the kids adore you. Please say 'yes,' Maddy. You know you want to," I wheedled.
I wasn't above begging at this point. A part of me felt guilty, but I desperately needed a little time to sort the feelings I was having while making sure she didn’t run the minute I turned my back.
"Okay," she'd said. "It sounds like fun if you're sure you don't mind."
Within an hour after our arrival, my mom's kitchen was full of the aroma of cinnamon and cloves as well as the sounds of childish giggles and feminine laughter. I peeked in and saw my mom spooning her pumpkin mixture into pie shells while the kids and Carol hovered around the kitchen table scooping out pumpkin seeds. Carol shifted sideways a bit, and I saw Maddy helping four-year-old Andrew. He flicked a seed off his hand and burst into laughter when it landed on Maddy's face. She gave him a playful scowl as she wiped it away, then scooped up a handful of the yellow goop and pretended like she was going to rub it on his face. Andrew shrieked and ducked, and Maddy burst into laughter, dropping the stringy seeds back on the table.
My breath hitched in my throat. She looked happy, and happy on Madelyn Stone was beautiful.
I was about to duck out unnoticed, but she chose to look up at that moment. Her smile slipped, but I quickly offered her one of my own. As if drawn by an invisible thread, I took the necessary steps to stand alongside her and reached into her hair. She watched my movements as if mesmerized.
"You had another seed in your hair," I said quietly. I dropped my hand, but I couldn't stop staring at her lips, remembering how sweet they tasted and desperately wanted another taste. I'm not sure how long we stared at each other before Carol cleared her throat, grinning mischievously as her eyes flicked to the kids. Startled, I pulled back realizing I had leaned forward to do exactly what was in my head.
Maddy flushed and laughed nervously. "Thank you."
I grinned. "I'm glad you're having fun." Whispering in her ear, I asked, "Can I talk to you a minute?" It wasn't fair of me, but I knew she wouldn't make a scene in front of my family, so I seized the moment.
"Oh, I, um..." She looked between the kids and Carol and my mom, who were both looking at us with knowing expressions. "Um, sure."
She washed her hands off at the kitchen sink, and while she was drying her hands, my mom whispered something to her. Maddy's eyes darted at me and the color on her face heightened, but she merely nodded and replaced the towel on its hook.
I gestured for her to proceed me into the living room and was about to guide her to the back deck, when Buddy barked at the door and in walked Cal carrying Cara. "We’re here,” he hollered. “Sorry we're late. What’s to eat?" When he looked up, I saw surprise flash across his face as he recognized Maddy, then he broke out into a smile.
"Madelyn. Great to see you again. I see your powers are still at work." His wink was accompanied by a not-so-subtle jerk of his head in my direction. "Lucky you, little bro."
His previous shout, however, had startled his baby girl who chose that moment to start screaming.
"Here," he said with some desperation, and he thrust the baby into Maddy's surprised arms. "See if you can work your magic on her. She's been cranky all morning."
Maddy raised the baby to her shoulder and rubbed her back in soothing circles. Cara almost immediately stopped crying.
“Oh, thank God,” Cal muttered. “Of all the mornings for Sara to get called into the store, my little angel turned into a devil.”
Maddy glared at him and moved away from us, singsonging words of disapproval for Cara’s father and his description.
My mom also came rushing out. "Why was the baby crying?" She stopped when she saw Maddy swaying and humming. "Oh."
She ground to a halt watching as Maddy bounced and swayed her way over to a window, tuning all of us out as she whispered and cooed at the baby, all of us watching her. Cal's hand clasped my shoulder. I knew exactly what was on his mind and why he'd shifted the baby to Maddy. I wanted to be angry, but his plan had worked. I could easily see Maddy as a mother some day. What I wasn't expecting was the mental image of her cradling our baby. A stab of pain pierced my heart.
"Forever is still there, Son," Mom whispered in my ear before heading back into the kitchen.
26
Holt
A short while later I sat in my dad's chair in his study that overlooked the backyard. I thought about my mom’s words as I watched Maddy play with my niece and nephews outside in the fall leaves. Andrew had been trying to chase his older siblings, but of course, his little toddler legs were no match for them. Maddy swept in and scooped him up and ran in whatever direction he pointed, becoming a longer set of legs for him. I could hear his shrieks of laughter and shouts of 'faster' even through the window. All of them had huge grins on their faces. I felt my own smile play about my lips.
"She's a nice girl," my dad commented from the door.
I nodded, never taking my eyes off Maddy.
My dad moved into the room until he was standing at the window. "You're thinking about Claire, also, aren't you?"
My dad was a little too perceptive. I didn't bother answering.
He, too, watched the antics outside. After a few minutes, he turned to face me, sliding his hands into his pockets. "You know, Son, I think we men are instinctively protective. In some ways, it's sort of cavemanesque.
"Did you just create a new word?" I laughed, wondering where he was going with his thought process. Christopher Andrews was a relatively quiet man, but he was insightful, and I’d learned long ago to listen when he had something to say.
He chuckled. "Merriam-Webster would be proud." He grew serious again. "We like to protect what we think is ours; it doesn't matter the species. We piss on fire hydrants, we bang our tusks, we bare our teeth, and flash our muscles. We all do it, especially when it comes to our mate."
I rolled my eyes and finally looked at him. "Is there a point to this little nature lesson, Dad?"
"There is." He settled into the leather chair across from his desk. "We can only protect what is real, like flesh and blood. We can't protect memories, Holt. You can treasure them, share them, or even keep them secret, but you can’t protect them."
"You're talking about Claire."
It was his turn to nod.
I sighed and rubbed my face in my hands as I leaned my elbows on his desk. My father always looked so strong and capable of anything si
tting behind this desk. Sitting in his chair, I felt weak and inefficient. "I didn't protect Claire like I should have when she was alive, Dad. I didn't live up to my promise to her."
"You couldn't have stopped her death, Holt. That doesn't mean you didn't protect her."
"No." I shook my head vehemently.
"Holt--"
"She was pregnant, Dad." The secret fell from my lips before I could stop it.
My dad froze. I closed my eyes; I couldn't look at him as he processed that if things had gone differently, there would be another almost five-year-old running around his back yard right now.
"Oh, Son." I felt his strong hands grasp my shoulders. "Why didn't you tell us?"
I bowed my head. "We were going to tell everyone after we came home from the honeymoon. But afterward, I was such a mess. I couldn't live with the truth that I lost two people that day. And then Carol announced she was pregnant. It was the first time people began to smile, and I couldn't take that away from all of you, so I didn't say anything. Children should be celebrated, and I couldn't celebrate mine. Maybe that was selfish, I don't know. I wasn't in a good place back then, and later it just seemed too late." I tried to wipe away the tear that started to drip from my eye before my dad could see.
"It's okay, Son. Let it out. You've kept too much bottled up inside for too long." The catch in his voice was all it took to release the dam that had been building all day. My dad knelt in front of me and pulled me into a hug and held me as my guilt, grief, and secret flowed out.
When I finally felt I could compose myself, I stood. My father rose with me, his own eyes damp. "Talk to me, Holten."
Restless, I paced the floor before finally moving to stand in front of the window where my father had stood moments earlier. A sudden exhaustion gripped me, and I leaned against the wall, resting the side of my head on the window frame. I stared out the panes without really seeing.
Yesterday's Tomorrows Page 18