Hold Me (Promise Me Book 1)

by Brea Viragh

“All right, then, let’s go.”

  The glint of desire in his eyes had me looking on the bright side of things when he took control. Now our roles reversed as Duncan led me through the crowd and out the other side.

  The look had me forgetting about Leslie Gordon and her silly reunion superlatives. Forgetting about the cheap meat and cheese deli platter someone thought was enough for the hundred people in our graduating class, for which my tongue told me no, but my grumbling stomach told me yes.

  And almost forgetting that August was looking for me.

  **

  Our footsteps echoed eerily in the empty hall. The muffled shouts of the reunion class burst behind us as another prize was bestowed on a lucky winner and I spared a look over my shoulder to see if anyone followed.

  “Where are we going?” I asked. “The car is the other way.”

  Duncan peered into a room before testing the doorknob. “Someplace where we can be alone. I don’t want to wait until we get back to the hotel.”

  Alone sounded pretty good right now. Nerves skittered along my skin that had nothing to do with Duncan and everything to do with a certain other man.

  “Fine, hurry.” It was pretty obvious he didn’t want to wait. I pointed down; evidence of his arousal pushed against the pleated confines of his khakis. “I can tell.”

  The knob turned in his hand and he pumped a fist in the air. “Mission accomplished.”

  We fled into the darkened music room like refugees. The door closed behind and wrapped us in a cocoon of hushed silence. I remembered this place too. The required fourth period band where I puttered away at the bass drum and pretended to know what I was doing.

  The same plastic chairs were still set up in a semi-circle, row after row looking down on center stage where Mr. Banks would conduct. I could almost picture him there with the baton dwarfed in his massive hand, red suspenders keeping his trousers in check.

  Duncan drew me toward him, his hands resting on my hips and kneading my skin. An effective cease for my unvoiced reminiscing. “Did I tell you how sexy I find you today?”

  And here I was, trying to pretend I wasn’t preoccupied. I put my hands on his shoulders and raised my chin. “No, but I’m willing to let you tell me now.”

  His palm traced a line along the bottom of my skirt as his powerful voice softened, whispering in my ear. “I’ve been wanting you all day.”

  His words sent a shiver down my spine and had me overlooking the people and places I’d rather forget. Soon it became hard to concentrate with Duncan’s hands on me, the ironed edges of his shirt brushing against my breasts as those ham fists drew me closer and closer.

  “Easy now,” he murmured, moving back against the wall until his arms trapped me in a cage.

  His cologne took me back to the first time I saw Duncan at a birthday party for one of my coworkers’ kids. He was a friend of a friend of a friend, invited in a show of support and sought after as the sole proprietor of a bouncy castle. I adored his whimsy, the easy way he acted around everyone, and had moved to his side before I thought better of it.

  How does a grown man come to have a bouncy castle?

  Let me buy you a drink and I’ll tell you.

  Deal.

  “I bet you aren’t wearing any panties under there,” Duncan continued.

  Unfortunately, he was wrong, but I wasn’t about to say anything and spoil the mood. We had so little time for each other as of late, given the circumstances and the move. I knew better than to dissuade him when he at long last got around to the idea of being naughty.

  Amid the chairs and sleeping instruments, I allowed Duncan to slip the dress from my shoulders inch by inch and push me back against the blackboard, placing his lips on me.

  I’d like to say he had a favorite spot. My neck and collarbone always garnered special attention when I took my clothes off. I didn’t know if that were true and he’d never told me any different.

  He slid those rough palms down my sides toward my hips and rested them there while his lips traveled north. I opened my mouth to him on a sigh, loving the way he fit against me, the largeness a change against the lean lines of my features.

  On autopilot, my head tilted up to meet him while he pushed my legs apart. Duncan groaned as he maneuvered my underwear aside and slid a single finger forward to probe my center. “You are so hot.”

  I stifled a yowl of surprise, checking over his shoulder at the single square of light looking out on the hallway and dividing my attention. On guard.

  “I love this dress on you.” His finger twirled a circle on my most intimate parts and I could not help but warm under the heat of his ministrations. The man knew how to turn me on.

  “Are you positive no one can see us?” I struggled to peer over him to make sure we were well and truly alone.

  Duncan blocked me with his body and, captive between the wall and his arms, I had no choice but to let him do what he wanted.

  “Stop worrying,” he demanded.

  He moved my hands above my head, elbows back, knowing I would obey. Funny, I always thought about sexing in the band room while I went to class there. Back then I didn’t have the guts for any clandestine exposure.

  I remembered my boyfriend at the time, a certain Fred Dickerson, begging and begging me to sneak back to school once people left for the day and walk on the wild side. He was willing to do whatever it took to get me in the mood. Some people get turned on by the thought of danger. For me, my tastes ran more vanilla. It made me wonder what extremes I would go to in order to avoid August. Extreme enough.

  Duncan could not resist the urge to touch me, his knuckles brushing the softness of my breasts until my nipples stood to points. His finger worked magic, my stomach tightening, breath coming in short gasps. Soon its friend joined the party as his thumb swirled near my clit.

  “Duncan,” I moaned. My body vibrated and my thighs squeezed tight around his wrist.

  His lips skimmed the edge of my mouth and nipped lightly. “Yes?”

  “I don’t know about this.”

  His eyes caught mine in the dim light. “Did I not say to stop worrying?”

  Pressing his body ever closer, I listened to the quiet hiss of his zipper releasing, feeling the hardness of him on my abdomen. Those lips met mine again and I tasted his tongue as it slipped inside with almost aggressive force. He liked to show me who wore the pants in our relationship. This time I had no problem letting him.

  I wasn’t too big on experimentation within my erotic boundaries; Duncan was the opposite, so this band room blitz should be enough to satisfy him for a while. And serve as a perfect way to hide.

  “Are you ready for me?”

  I braced myself on the wall and slid a leg up to give him access. A single nod gave him his answer and he lifted the skirt of my dress toward my navel.

  Duncan slid into me inch by inch like slick satin over iron. The gasp escaped before I strangled it back, my body accommodating his size and the intrusion.

  “Oh, fuck,” he ground out. I echoed the sentiment as his hips began to piston back and forth. His penis slid inside with surprising ease and I felt the strangest desire to blurt out the Hallelujah chorus.

  Duncan lifted me higher until my legs wrapped around his hips. I clung to him, keeping my chin on his shoulder.

  Damn, it felt so good. Good enough to make me forget myself. Good enough to take away all my anxiety and nerves as I focused on the feeling of him against me.

  Duncan upped his momentum, pounding me harder and harder until my head fell back against the wall. My nails scratched at his back when my legs began to grow numb.

  “You like it when I fuck you like this?” he asked, his breath hot on my ear.

  “Yes.” My ass slammed into the wall again and again.

  His fingertips dug into my skin hard enough to leave bruises. I searched for leverage and found none as he pulled me onto him, a doll used for his delight, his passion. Goodness, how had I thought this was bad? Nothing wrong coul
d feel this wonderful.

  The intensity built. We raged together and he plunged, hitting my center, leaving me deliciously sore. Just when I thought I could handle no more, as my fingertips clawed at the wall and a keening wail escaped my mouth, a cough sounded across the room.

  And I froze.

  “Sorry about the interruption. I was making sure the door was locked before I left,” came a male voice full of discomposure that couldn’t hold a candle to my own embarrassment. “I didn’t realize anyone was here.”

  Duncan released his hold on my rear and dropped me unceremoniously to the ground. The hem of my dress fell, hiding my lady bits from the intruder.

  I fought to steady my trembling legs. “Sorry, uh, we were just leaving.” I scrambled to excuse our behavior and found it best to stay mute on the subject. “No need to call the authorities. We’ll be on our way in a minute.”

  “Isabel?”

  The interloper, illuminated from behind so his features were shadowed, called out my name. Recognition clicked into place. I would have given my soul to melt onto the floor and disappear.

  “Oh, no.”

  Duncan straightened his shoulders. “And who are you, exactly?” He cleared his throat and turned toward the other man.

  I didn’t need an introduction to know who stood there. I’d recognize him even if I went blind. “Hello, August.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  There was no blood left in my body. It all went to my face and I wished the wall were brick so I could be camouflaged. Talk about a head rush. Nothing brought the pulse to hyper drive in as short a time as good, old-fashioned coitus interruptus.

  Smoothing the front of my dress and raising the strap to my shoulder, I forced my nose into the air, told myself to act dignified. When faced with the choice of annoyance or embarrassment, it’s always better to go with the former and fake it ’til you make it.

  “I didn’t realize you were still holding onto your hall monitor sash,” I told August. “It’s been fifteen years but you always treated the job with life or death seriousness. Although you could never stay far from the band room for long.”

  I crossed the floor. My heels clicked in time with my heart, Duncan adjusting himself behind me. Soon August came into view, all lanky strength and long, muscled limbs. His head tilted to the side and he kept his eyes averted, hands shoved into his pockets as I watched a single auburn curl fall over his forehead.

  The boy I knew had turned into an attractive man somewhere along the lines. Quite attractive, if I did say so. Damn, I shouldn’t be thinking such thoughts moments after having another man inside me.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry about the interruption,” August murmured. His eyes glittered black in the dense, hallowed hallway light. “Band geeks gravitate toward the motherland; you know how it goes. I apologize.”

  He sure didn’t sound sorry.

  “Not nearly as sorry as I am,” I muttered. Glaring at August helped, as well as calling him a number of four-letter words inside my head. I doubled my efforts to stay indignant instead of bemoaning my bad luck.

  August took a step closer until he stood inches away. His eyes locked on mine and held, and a slow tingle began in the pit of my stomach.

  “It’s good to see you, Isabel,” he said in an undertone.

  My cheek twitched. “We are not doing this now.”

  “If not now, when?”

  “Never.”

  Confident Duncan would follow me out of the room in due time, I flitted past August without another glance in his direction. Sure, maybe a second glance, but not a third. I’d seen enough as it was. He looked the same as the last time we saw each other before I moved away, but more developed. Sharper angles. Filled out in places he had not before, although those boyish blue eyes still invited women to trust him.

  The high cheeks and single scar running parallel to those bones added depth, a little something extra, though the scar was a remnant of a sleepaway camp dare gone wrong. I’d been there that night and stemmed the bleeding from a ninja throwing star when no one else would go within ten feet of him.

  “I heard you were back in town,” August called out, turning to trail after me.

  I kept my eyes focused on the wall ahead and listened to his footsteps. “Word travels quick around here,” I quipped.

  August chuckled and hastened his stride. “You would do best to remember small-town life. You’ve been gone too long.”

  I turned to him then, focusing on his shoes instead of his face as my cheeks heated at his knowing words. “If things had turned out the way I expected, then I would be living in California the rest of my life. Five years wasn’t long enough.”

  Duncan finished recovering from the poorly timed disruption. “Iz, you ran off on me. Hello there.” He stuck out his hand with a slight scowl. “Duncan Whitaker, pleased to meet you.”

  Duncan relied on the heft of his personality to smooth over any ripples in this first impression, which to a man of strong upbringing meant everything. His grandparents had imparted a strict sense of propriety, though his sex drive sometimes overrode good sense.

  “Pleased to meet you as well, Duncan,” August answered. “August McKenney.”

  Duncan nodded. “I’m happy we finally got the chance to meet in person.”

  The two men clasped hands, veins popping while each fought to show their own superior strength. It was almost comical to watch them together, one strong and fair, the other slender and dark haired.

  The handshake lasted much longer than propriety dictated before they backed away. August discreetly wiped his palm on the side of his pants. “So, have you enjoyed the reunion so far?” he asked, directing the question toward me.

  I tried not to let humiliation color me further. As it was, I looked like a dead ringer for the Kool-Aid pitcher.

  “No, I haven’t enjoyed the reunion so far, and if you guys are done being manly, I think it’s time for us to make an exit.” I stared at the back door and the gleaming red sign above it. “I’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

  August was in for a big disappointment if he sought to regain our former closeness. I toyed with the simple diamond solitaire adorning my left ring finger.

  Duncan knew only what I’d told him of my brief history with my old friend, and nothing about the stupid pledge. I had the sick feeling it would worm its way into conversation somehow, and I wasn’t sure whether Duncan would laugh or go into murder-mode.

  It was nothing to worry over, I tried to tell myself. The argument which drove August and me apart was in the past. As long as it stayed buried, I was in the clear.

  “You can’t leave yet.” August reached into his back pocket and retrieved my fallen tiara. Where had I lost it along the way? “There are still some awards to give out. You wouldn’t want to miss the excitement.”

  I awkwardly took the plastic crown from him, making sure our fingers didn’t touch. “No thanks. I got what I came for.”

  “Yes, I can see that,” August responded, his tone dry.

  If Duncan recognized the insult, he had no comment. That was one thing I could say about my man: always cheerful and looking on the bright. Otherwise known as oblivious in most circles.

  “We shouldn’t up and leave without at least mingling a little, Izzy,” Duncan told me. “We did drive all this way.”

  “With a moving truck.” I gritted my teeth. “I’m tired and ready to be off my feet.”

  “Yes, but when are all your friends going to be gathered in the same place again?” Duncan pressed.

  “I don’t know. Probably in another five years for our twentieth reunion. It’s kind of a thing around here.”

  I promised myself, once upon a time, I would get far away from this small town and every inhabitant within the county lines. For a time, I had. Moving out to California in my late twenties and waiting for the world to recognize me for my skills used to be the best thing I’d done in life. It didn’t take long for me to realize those were pipe dreams, and a
fter trying and failing to make it in the extremely competitive market of song lyricists, it appeared my best option was coming home.

  So I thought…until seeing August again. A part of me screamed I should get back behind the wheel of the moving van and take off for parts unknown so I wouldn’t have to deal with him. Acknowledge the jumble of emotions balling inside of me.

  Something about the way he looked at me made the hairs on the back of my neck jump to attention in a good way that was very, very bad.

  In a heartbeat, Duncan had made the decision to journey across the country with me and staked his future on our love. Poor man didn’t know what he was getting into after a year of dating and then sharing the same abode for a mere four months.

  I had to pity him a little. I was a horror to live with and he still put up with me. I wondered how long it would take him to get a clue. Hopefully never.

  “Come on, it will be fun. You won your title a moment ago,” Duncan said with a smile. “You need to go out and greet your people. The fans await.”

  August sent me a burning stare and swept his arm down the hall in the direction of the remaining crowd. A shout rang out followed by a round of clapping and hoots as another crown left Leslie’s grip.

  “Sounds like a good time in there,” August added.

  “Yeah, I’d rather not.”

  Duncan took it upon himself to know what was good for me. He strode forward, my chin coming to his bicep, and grabbed me by the hand.

  “Let’s go hang with your friends.” A kiss to the knuckles, a sharp bite on sensitive skin to remind me to mind my manners. “We didn’t come 2,600 miles to linger in a hotel room. You had us leave a day ahead of schedule to get here in time for this, remember?”

  “I must have been out of my mind.”

  “August, I’ve heard so much about you,” Duncan continued, our conversation terminated. “I feel like I know you already.”

  The other man raised a brow. “All good things, I hope.”

  “I heard about the time a bee stung your ass crack.”

  “She told you?” August shivered and covered his eyes with a hand. “I’m mortified.”