“Are you sure?” She nudged him. “Because if you get me all hot and bothered again, then take off…I’ll legit kill you.”
He snort-laughed. “I’m sure. But make no mistake: I’m done fighting this attraction between us because I’m not good enough to try anymore. Done trying to be the good guy by keeping my hands off of you. But that doesn’t make me better. It makes me worse. You should say no. You should turn me away.”
She stood there silently, and he held his breath. Half of him wanted her to say no, and the other half of him wanted her to say yes. One half was louder than the other. “I already told you earlier. If you’ll knock, I’ll let you in.”
He dropped his forehead on hers. “Well, I’m knocking.”
“Then come in. I’m waiting for you.”
He kissed her, right there in the hallway in a crowded bar. He shouldn’t start anything right now. He should hold her hand and bring her back to his place, while whispering sweet words to her. He should woo her. But instead, he wanted to make her come, with his name on her lips like some sort of fervent plea. He needed to.
Fuck the Tootsie Pop.
I want to know how many licks it takes to get to the center of Lydia.
The skirt she wore was ridiculously short—part of what had driven him crazy while she’d been on the dance floor—so he dropped to his knees in front of her and dragged it up. She gasped, her hands falling on his head. “What are you doing?”
“No one comes back here because it’s a staff hallway, and I locked it. I owe you for last night, when I left, and it’s time for me to pay.” With one finger, he pulled her panties to the side. They were soft and lacy. It made him wonder what color they were, because it was too dark for him to see. “Hold on tight, Lyd.”
She dug her hands into his hair, holding on tight as ordered.
Gently, he raised her leg and rested it over his shoulder. He could already smell her sweet scent. Feel her intoxicating heat. Leaning in, he flicked his tongue over her clit. She was better than anything he’d ever tasted before. Even more so than the water he’d chugged after being stuck in the one hundred and ten degree hell that they called a desert for eight hours.
She moaned, the noise mixing in with the loud music from the club. Her nails dug into his scalp, and she pressed against him, her hips moving restlessly. “Oh my God, Holt.”
He deepened the intimate kiss, moving his tongue in circles over her. He could feel her whole body getting tighter, more frantic, and he knew she was close.
Hell, he could taste it, too.
Her hips moved faster, so he thrust a finger inside of her, crooking it just right. She arched her back, one of those sexy as fuck moans coming out, and then she froze, her heel pressing into his back. Afterwards, she collapsed against the wall, her body going lax.
Standing up, he swiped his hand across his mouth, pulled her skirt back into place, and caught her hand. “Come home with me tonight?”
“As if you needed to ask?” she said, laughing lightly. “Yes. God, yes.”
He nodded once, even though she couldn’t see him, and led her back into the crazy madness of the bar. As they worked their way across the floor, he caught sight of Paul, the dick she’d been dancing with earlier. He watched her leave, looking like a deflated puppy, but she didn’t even glance Paul’s way.
She was too busy watching him.
Thank fucking God.
As they walked into the night, she followed him silently. He’d die to hear her thoughts, to know what she was feeling right now. “You okay?”
“Mm hm.” She smiled up at him. “I’m more than okay, because you just did amazing things with your mouth.”
A smartass reply came to mind, but he couldn’t get it out.
The words all jumbled in his head. He curled his hand into a fist. She’d said he’d done amazing things with his mouth. At least he could still get some things right. Since his mind had bailed on him, he remained silent.
A building pressure sprouted behind his forehead, making him wince. Shit, he was getting the headache a few days earlier than usual. And he’d already invited her home with him. If he tried to back out now, she’d think he was running. He wasn’t.
Maybe if he took the pills soon enough, he’d be okay. Maybe he’d be able to tuck her in to bed, and then suffer in silence while she slept.
“I’m glad you came to your senses,” Lydia said, still smiling. “Giving up something that good is sacrilegious.”
Guilt slammed into his chest. She thought it was a good thing he’d given in to his primal urges to claim her as his. She was wrong. She’d be much better off if he didn’t. Hell, he could barely form a coherent thought on the best of days. And she was about to see his fucking worst. He opened his truck door for her. “A-After you.”
“Okay.” She hesitated, resting a hand over his heart. It was as if she already knew how strong of a hold she had over him, and was taunting him by placing her hand over the one part of him that she hadn’t laid claim to yet. “But before I go with you, I need a promise.”
Fuck me. He gritted his teeth, his head aching even more than just moments before. He didn’t make promises to anyone. Not after the last one had led to him killing a good friend on a battlefield deep in the bowels of hell. “Tell me what you want.”
“When you decide that feeling that we aren’t finished yet is gone, just come to me. Be honest. Don’t run. Don’t hide behind your alleged shortcomings, and act as if you’re doing me a favor by running. If you want to be done, we’ll be done. But don’t run without saying a word.”
“I won’t.” He cradled her cheek. “When we’re done, I’ll let you know. I can’t promise you forever. I can’t promise you a long time. Hell, I can’t even promise you tomorrow. But I can promise not to leave you without a proper goodbye.”
She nodded. “That’s all I ask.”
“Then get in the truck, so I can take you home.”
She climbed in, and he gave her a boost on the ass. She grinned over her shoulder at him, and he forced himself to smile back as if he didn’t feel like he was about to die. The way she made him feel…it was like listening to a mash-up of warning bells and happy elevator music on repeat, which was confusing as hell.
He didn’t know whether to push her away, or pull her close.
So he did both.
With a hopefully carefree wink, he shut the door. The bang made him flinch. A cold sweat already covered his forehead. This was going to be a bad one. He’d have to pop a pill as soon as they walked in the door, and grit his teeth through the pain. He slipped into his seat and kicked the truck into gear, his palms sweaty.
When he glanced over at her, she looked absolutely gorgeous in the moonlight. The streetlights bounced off of her, playing with the shadows, and it only highlighted her generous lips and high cheekbones even more than before.
An urgency that had nothing to do with his headache hit him like a punch in the gut. He’d already had her once, which should have been enough to temper the need rushing through him, but if anything, it only made it worse.
He had to have her, and he had to have her now.
Earlier, he’d told her they had to keep at it until the feeling was gone…but what if it never went away? He shuddered and tightened his grip on the wheel.
That was the closest he’d ever come to thinking in terms of long-term, and it was sickening as hell. But what made him even sicker was this next thought:
What if she tired of him before he tired of her?
Shit, that wouldn’t happen, would it? He stole a quick glance at her, the movement sending a shaft of pain piercing through his skull. She stared out the passenger window, tapping her nails on her thigh. There had to be a way to make sure that didn’t happen. A way to make her so addicted to him that she’d never think of leaving, but not so hooked that he broke her heart when he left.
Orgasms. Lots of them.
That had to work.
“When we get back to my place, yo
u’ll have one minute to be naked in my bed, waiting for me. If you’re not there in time…” He drifted off, letting her imagination go wild with that one. And while you scramble into my bed, I’ll grab a pill out of the kitchen and hope to hell it works fast for once.
She licked her lips and lifted her skirt a fraction of an inch. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.”
He rested his hand on her thigh possessively. She was so smooth. So small. So his. She pressed her thighs together, squeezing his hand in between them. “Sometimes.”
His lips twitched. “Occasionally.”
“Every once in a blue moon.”
“Never,” he added.
She inched closer. “Like right now.”
“What are you going to do right now?” he asked, side-eying her.
“You’ll see.” She rested her hand on his cock. “Know my favorite moment between Rose and the Doctor? It’s when they get trapped on opposite sides of the wall, in two different worlds.” As soon as she finished talking, she squeezed him.
His headache was instantly forgotten. “Jesus, Lydia.”
“That moment of complete and utter loss?” Slowly, she undid the zipper, brushing her fingers across him as she did so. “Yeah. That’s the best few minutes of the show. And when he burns up the sun to say goodbye, but doesn’t get to say he loves her?”
He swallowed hard, keeping his attention on the road by force of sheer will and nothing else. His vision blurred, so he blinked a few times to clear it. “Yeah?”
She freed his cock from his pants, and ran her fingers over it. “Heartbreaking. I mean, I bet they never even had the chance to do something like this…”
“Lydia.”
She lowered her mouth to his cock, flicking her tongue over the head. He was hard and aching for her. Had been since the second he’d seen her in the club. Wait, no. He had been since he’d walked away from her, leaving her naked and alone on her bed.
With a groan, she closed her mouth over him and sucked him in. Her hot little mouth was pure heaven and hell, all wrapped up in one. He threaded his hand through her soft hair. They were almost at his place. Almost.
When she took more of him in, more than anyone else ever had before, he groaned and tightened his grip on her hair. “Shit, don’t stop.”
She didn’t. She sucked harder, taking the rest of him in her mouth. He almost died, right then and there, from sheer pleasure. That’s how fucking amazing it felt.
He turned into his driveway on two wheels, screeching tires and not giving a damn. Once he slammed the truck into park, he arched his hips up, fucking her mouth. He didn’t hold back, not because he didn’t care, but because he was too fucking gone to think. To worry.
Moaning, she sucked harder, scraping her teeth over the head and running her fingers over his balls, taking all he gave and then some more. He banged his head back against the headrest, sending even more pain coursing through him, and let out a string of curses he didn’t even hear or mean to say.
For all he knew, he released a jumble of words that made no sense at all. It wouldn’t be the first time. There was a reason he held himself back in bed.
Once, when he’d first returned from the war, he’d lost control. After he’d come, he’d collapsed on the bed next to the faceless woman he’d been with that night. She’d looked at him as if he was a monster. Apparently, his words had gotten mixed up in the heat of the moment, and it had freaked her out. She’d been out of his life within two minutes. He’d never lost control again.
Not until now.
He collapsed against the seat, her mouth moving over him until he was sure he’d go insane from the pleasure. Her sweet tongue brushed against him, and the way she moved her fingers, touching in all the right places, would surely be his cause of death. He couldn’t think of a better fucking way to go. He arched his hips again, tugging on her hair. “I’m gonna come.”
She nodded and kept going. He hadn’t expected her to want to swallow…but he sure as hell wasn’t going to complain. He watched her mouth move over him, clenched his jaw, and came explosively.
Words flew out of his mouth, and he dropped his head back against the seat. She pulled off of him slowly, her mouth leaving a trail of torture behind. He hissed and tightened his grip on her hair, pulling her up. “Enough.”
Glancing away, he took a deep breath. He didn’t want to see the look on her face, in case he’d lost his shit. From the corner of his eye, he watched her as she sat up, holding her hand over her mouth. He could feel her bright hazel eyes on him. She stayed silent, which was pretty damn damning, in his opinion. He’d fucked up. Again.
This was why he was better off alone, damn it.
“Lydia…” He took a deep breath and formed his thoughts as best as he could with his head throbbing like a bitch. And then he looked at her. She hadn’t moved. “Look, I’m sorry if I scared you. If you want me to take you home…”
She blinked. “Scared me? Why would you have scared me?”
“Well, I…uh…”
She rested her hand on his arm. “There’s nothing you’ve done, or could do, that would send me running. I was simply quiet because I was thinking how that was one of the hottest moments of my life, and I never want to forget a second of it.”
“You’re too good for—” He took a shaky breath and rubbed his temples. There was so much he wanted to say to that, but he couldn’t even finish a damn sentence. His mind had quit on him, and now he was going to make a fool out of himself. “Shit.”
“Are you okay?”
He nodded, turning away from her. He didn’t need to see her pity, or fear, or anything, really. He just wanted to crawl under the covers and hide from the whole world.
Just wanted to disappear, until he felt human again. “I have to…I…”
“Lie down?” she asked softly.
“Yes. That.”
Her door closed behind her, and for a second he thought she left him. He wouldn’t blame her if she did. But then his opened, and her hands were on him. “Come on. I’ll help you inside.”
Disgust at what he’d become hit him hard. This wasn’t him. He wasn’t the guy who needed help, damn it. And her doing this was both amazing and frustrating, all in one. He didn’t want to be this guy with her. He wanted to be the guy who blew her mind with amazing orgasms. The guy she missed when he was gone. The guy she needed…
Not the guy who needed her.
Chapter Eleven
Lydia watched him, forcing herself to stand completely still. He sat in the driver’s seat, an array of emotions crossing his features. She knew, deep down, that he hated feeling the way he was right now. That he was two seconds from snapping, and she didn’t want to be the one that pushed him too far. But he obviously needed help.
She didn’t know what was wrong with him, or why he’d shut her out like that after she’d gone down on him, but she knew one thing: He was in pain, and he needed help. And I need to give it to him.
“Go.” He slammed his hand down on the wheel, and she jumped. “Go…home.”
“No.”
“Listen, little girl. You—” Gripping the wheel, he flexed his jaw, paling. After a few seconds, he swung on her, his blue eyes narrow and icy cold. “Get the hell out of here. I don’t want you—”
She growled under her breath. “Stop right there,” she snapped, lifting her chin.
“No. I don’t want you here.” He gripped the wheel even tighter. “Don’t want you… I’m done. Get the…message.”
Shaking her head, she crossed her arms. “You can’t scare me away by being a jerk. I grew up with Steven—you’re nothing compared to him. Get out of the truck so I can get you inside. Now.”
He stared at her, breathing heavily. “I don’t want you. Don’t you hear me? Get the hell out of here.”
“Nope.” She put her hands on her hips. “I understand you’re frustrated, and feeling like crap. But hear me and hear me well. I will not leave you until you’re better.
”
“I’m never going to be—” He broke off, gritting his teeth. He was starting to look less pale, and more green. “—Better.”
“Then you’ll never be better. But I’m still not leaving.”
“You little—” He gripped the steering wheel tighter, and the fight seemed to leave him. He collapsed against the seat. “—S…shit.”
She swallowed hard. It hurt to see him hurting, and it hurt even more that he didn’t want her there. “I just want to help you. Can’t you see that?”
He nodded once, not replying. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, he let go of the wheel. “I need to get inside,” he rasped.
“Okay.” She caught his hand. “Let’s go.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he entwined his fingers with hers and turned back to her. Pain and regret and something else she couldn’t name were written all over his face, and almost made her fall over. He swallowed hard. “Lydia…”
“Shh. Come on.”
He climbed out of the truck silently, his fingers still entangled with hers. Reaching into the truck, she grabbed his keys out of the ignition and walked up to his door with him. His silence was both a relief and a worry. Would he go off on her again? Say rude things to try and scare her away? She didn’t know, but it didn’t matter.
She wouldn’t leave until he was okay.
With trembling hands, she unlocked the door. As soon as she shut it behind her, she turned to him. “What do you need?”
“Pills.” He collapsed against the door, his face pale. “Kitchen.”
She hurried into the kitchen, her heart pounding. Next to the sink, beside an empty bottle of whiskey, was an orange container filled with prescription medication for migraine headaches, according to the label. So…he got migraines. That’s what this was. After she got the meds in him, she needed to get him in a dark, quiet room, and get a cold compress on his head.
At least she knew what to do now.
Twisting the lid, she shook a capsule out onto her hand. After opening a few cabinets, she found the one that held glasses. By the time she came back into the foyer, he’d shrugged off his coat and kicked off his shoes. When he heard her coming, he dropped his head against the door again.
Taking What's His (Entangled Brazen) Page 9