~ Maggie Calhoun
“We’re home.”
Olivia’s sweet voice drifted into my consciousness. I opened my eyes and saw that we were parked in front of the duplex. I sat up and rubbed my face, only to discover that I’d drooled on myself.
“Shit, how long have I been asleep?” The last thing that I remembered was getting in the car to come home.
“You were out before we made it off the ranch property.”
“Damn, I must’ve been really tired.”
“You should be. You had a big day.” She smiled brightly, clearly proud of herself for the intervention she’d done on me.
And she should be. I couldn’t believe how far my head had been up my own ass; I’d been so focused on myself. After her speech in the car and spending the day with kids that would love to have the problems that I have, I’d realized I’d spent all my life being self-centered.
I’d competed in a sport that didn’t have a team. It was just me. I’d always put myself first, which was fine when my career depended on it. But that time in my life was over. This truly was a new chapter and it wasn’t going to be about me. For the first time in a long time, I was excited and looking forward to the future and I had one person to thank for that.
We got out of the car and I followed Olivia up the steps of her porch.
She put her key in the door and looked over her shoulder at me. “Are you coming in?”
“If that’s okay. I was hoping we could talk.”
She nodded and opened the door.
Without saying a word, we fell into the routine that we’d picked up over the month that we’d shared together. I let Channing out and she went upstairs to put on her pajamas. My ears and other parts of my body perked up when I heard the shower running. I was instantly at half-chub. When we’d been hanging out, whenever she took a quick shower before putting on her pjs, I’d known what the night had in store. She liked to feel fresh before sexy time.
But that wasn’t what was going on tonight. I tried to relay the message to the head below my belt, Inigo Montoya Princess Bride style, that I didn’t think that shower meant what he thought that shower meant. But just like Vizzini, my dick did not listen.
I did my best to distract myself by feeding Channing and pouring Olivia a glass of wine. I tried to think about today at the ranch. After the yoga class, we’d stayed and helped with another program. I’d talked to some kids that were going to be horseback riding for the first time. Some of them were scared because the horses were so big, so I talked to them about energy and how it’s the way animals see you and relate to you. They don’t care what you look like or what you say, they only see and hear energy. And it doesn’t matter how large the animal is, they will respect you and meet you at your energy.
We talked about how animals sense fear and anxiety in people and they don’t understand that it’s them that you’re scared of. All they know is that there is a threat. That can send an animal into a panicked state. I told them about how Cesar Millan, The Dog Whisperer, teaches having calm and assertive energy. He says that he has the same energy whether he’s working with a Chihuahua or a pit bull. Size doesn’t matter, only energy. In the rodeo, we called it having the dominant mind, but it was basically being calm-assertive. If your energy is telling them to be calm, then they will be.
I wished that same philosophy would work on the beast in my pants. But five minutes later when Olivia came downstairs, I was still at half-mast. I looked up and watched her walk into the kitchen. Her hair was piled on top of her head and she was wearing her favorite oversized white V-neck shirt and flannel shorts. It was the same thing she’d been wearing our first time together. I would’ve thought that it was a sign, except those were her favorite pajamas and she wore them most nights.
Without running it by my brain my eyes zeroed in on her nipples, which were hard beneath the loose T-shirt she wore, and the damp tendrils of hair that were curling up at the base of her neck. My dick, who still wasn’t convinced that those weren’t go signs, grew to three-quarter chub.
Olivia must have noticed my body’s response because as she took the glass of wine from me, she stared down at my crotch and said, “Don’t get excited. I only rinsed off because the ranch was so dusty.”
My head fell back, and I cracked up. Olivia was the definition of a total sweetheart. It wasn’t for show, it was who she truly was. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t call me out on my shit. Case in point, today in the car. As brutal as that had been to hear, it was exactly what I’d needed, and I loved her for saying it. I loved her. Period.
She grinned and walked into the front room. I followed behind her and did my best not to watch the sway of her hips or the curve of her upper thighs as they disappeared into her shorts. But my eyes seemed to have a mind of their own.
By the time she sank into the corner of her L shaped couch, I was rocking a full-blown hard-on and there was nothing I could do about it. Olivia had that effect on me. I adjusted myself before sitting down on the other side of the sofa, making sure we had plenty of space between us.
I needed as much distance as possible if I had any hope of keeping my mind clear enough to have the conversation we desperately needed to have.
She took a sip of wine. “So, what’s up?”
I smiled; that one was too easy.
“Besides that.” She motioned to my lap with her glass.
I took a deep breath and noticed that my palms were damp. Although that happened a lot when Olivia was around, I knew this time it was different. This time it was because I was nervous about what I needed to say. There was a reason that my mom had teased me about being an island unto myself growing up, I didn’t typically open up to people.
But this wasn’t people. This was Olivia.
“First, I want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry about how I treated you at the surprise party. You didn’t deserve that. I was an asshole and there’s no excuse for the way I acted. But it was the main reason that I’ve been staying away from people so that I wouldn’t expose them to the miserable prick I am. But I’m sorry that I went AWOL.
“And thank you for today.” I wished there were other words in the dictionary, better words, more accurate representations of the gratitude I felt for her. Thank you, just didn’t’ seem like enough. “Thank you for cleaning my house and for kidnapping me,” I teased.
She smiled.
“Thank you for the breakfast burrito, the coffee, the back warmer, the ranch, and the talk. I know that you don’t like confrontation and so that couldn’t have been easy for you.”
“It was actually easier than I thought it would be.” The edges of her mouth curled up in a self-satisfied grin as she took a sip of wine.
I smiled. “Well, everything you said was true. And I needed to hear it. All of it. I’m going to go back to physical therapy and I’m going to go see someone about the other stuff.” It was hard for me to even say the word, but I figured that meant that I needed to say it. “The depression. And I told Hud today that I’d be back next month and anytime he needed me. I would love to say that my days of being a selfish asshole are behind me, but I can’t promise that. What I can promise is that I’m going to do my best not to let that happen.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll let you know if you start slipping.”
“Does that mean you forgive me?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“Good.” I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn’t really been scared that she would say no. I knew that she didn’t hold grudges, but it still felt good to hear it. “You’re my best friend and I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Friends.” She said, looking down at her wine glass. “Is that what we are?”
“Is that what you want us to be?”
Her eyes lifted to mine. “What do you want?”
As I stared at her my chest constricted, my palms dampened, and my heart raced. “You. I want you. All of you. I want to be with you. I want you to be mine. I want—”
I didn’t get to finish my thought because Olivia had moved across the couch with the grace and speed of a panther pouncing on her prey. The next thing I knew we were kissing, and our clothes were coming off. Desperation unlike any I’d ever felt before crashed over me. I needed to feel her skin against mine. I needed to be inside of her. And I think she must’ve felt the same because it was a flurry of kissing and stripping each other. I pulled off her shirt and she worked on my jeans. I tugged her shorts down and she lifted my shirt up and off.
When we were both naked, I laid her down on her back and moved between her legs. Her pebbled nipples grazed my chest as I hovered above her. The smooth, silkiness of her inner thighs brushed against my hips. She gripped my shoulders and the pressure of her fingertips dug into my flesh.
Then, just as suddenly as everything started the atmosphere changed. The energy between us shifted gears. Everything went from fast forward to slow motion. The frenzied pace of our coupling became controlled and measured as I pushed inside of her. Her hazel eyes stared up at me through thick lashes as her inner walls tightened around me.
All the feelings that I’d tried to ignore, suppress, and deny for twenty plus years overwhelmed me. I knew that it might not be the best time to tell her how I felt, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was bursting to reveal the feelings I’d kept a hidden secret for two decades. She was the only woman I’d ever loved, and I knew, in that moment, the only woman I would ever love. I’d wasted enough time, I couldn’t wait one more minute, one more second to say those three little words.
Chapter 30
Olivia
“Enjoy life now. It’s not a rehearsal.”
~ Maggie Calhoun
Holden’s expression grew serious as he stared down at me. He was looking at me like he was seeing me for the first time. Slowly, he lowered down until our lips were barely touching.
“I love you,” he whispered against my lips before crushing them to mine.
A much cooler person would have kissed him back, but I was not that person.
My eyes flew open. “What?”
I could feel him smile against my lips and saw the evidence of his grin as he rose up resting on his elbows. “I love you.”
A lump formed in my throat and I was barely able to breathe. I’d imagined this moment for so many years. There were times when we were hooking up that I thought that he might say it. But he never did. And then we were over. I’d always been a glass half full girl, but I’d pretty much lost all hope.
“Can you say it again?”
“I love you.” He kissed the tip of my nose.
“Again,” I whispered.
He bent down and kissed my forehead. “I love you.” He continued kissing me on my right then left cheek, jaw, chin, and neck declaring his love for me between each kiss.
When he finally got back to my mouth, I could feel his lips above mine, but we weren’t touching. I opened my eyes and found him staring down at me.
“Do you have anything to say to me?” he asked.
“Oh.” My eyes widened in shock when I realized that I’d just been soaking in the moment and not reciprocating. “I love you!”
My declaration came out much louder than I’d meant it to. Holden had created such a calm, blissful vibe and I’d just ruined it by yelling like I was Will Ferrell in Anchorman.
“Sorry,” I immediately apologized.
He chuckled. “I like the enthusiasm.”
I giggled, filled to the brim with giddiness. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
I thought about confessing to the letter that I’d written to him all those years ago and asking if he’d ever found it. But before I could, his mouth covered mine and we shared a kiss that I knew was going to go down in history as a kiss for the ages. It was just the right amount of tenderness and devouring. It walked the thin line between savage and sweet. It held the perfect balance of reckless and controlled.
It was the ultimate oxymoron of kisses and I surrendered to it completely. My hips tilted up as need curled deep in my belly. Holden started to move inside me, in and out. My hands roamed over the hard planes of his sculpted shoulders and back. Heat radiated off of his skin causing my palms to tingle.
As his tempo increased, he broke our kiss so he could brace himself on his forearms. As soon as I lost the contact of our kiss, my lips burned with the aftermath of the fiery possession. I felt branded by him, and I hoped that he felt the same about me.
Pleasure swirled in me as my hips rose and fell in rhythm with his. Our bodies moved in perfect sync and the pressure and friction sent me soaring to new heights. I was so lost in erotic oblivion that I gasped when a drop of something landed on my forehead. My eyes fluttered open and when they did, I noticed that he was wincing and sweating. I squeezed his arm and stilled my hips.
He opened his eyes and stared down at me with alarm. “What’s wrong?”
“Are you in pain?”
He didn’t respond, but I saw his jaw tick.
“Is this hurting you?”
His chin lifted and he closed his eyes.
“If we’re gonna do this, you can’t hide from me. You have to talk to me. You have to tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t want to stop,” he admitted his pain without actually admitting it.
I waited, and when he finally looked back down at me I smiled, “Who said anything about stopping?”
During the month we’d been together his back had been in better shape, but I knew that wasn’t necessarily always going to be the case. So, I’d talked to my friend Heather, whose husband had back issues, and I’d done some research online.
“You go that way,” I instructed as I scooted to the edge of the couch and turned so that I was facing out. He rolled on his side so that my back was facing him. I lifted my leg up and he hooked it under his arm. I reached between my legs and gripped his shaft positioning it at my swollen entrance.
I turned my head and looked over my shoulder. “If this hurts, you have to tell me and we can try something else.”
His dick throbbed in my hand and a wicked half-grin appeared on his mouth. “He likes it when you’re bossy.”
I squeezed, enjoying the power of holding him literally in the palm of my hand. “Promise you’ll tell me.”
His baby blues softened, and I saw that there weren’t any walls up between us anymore. And somehow, I knew, in my heart, that they wouldn’t be going back up.
“I promise.”
Feeling assured that he would tell me if he was uncomfortable, I rocked my hips back as he slid inside of me. I gripped the corner of the cushion. The new angle was allowing him to hit all sorts of new areas.
His fingers spread on my hip and he easily found a rhythm that had my body tensing on the threshold of climax. It only took a few pumps before my entire world narrowed to a consuming, jarring explosion of pleasure. Holden thrust into me in one final push as a moan of male satisfaction tore from deep in his chest. His body vibrated against mine as tremor after tremor quaked through me.
When my body finally recovered from my bone-shattering release, I found myself cocooned in Holden’s arms.
“I love you,” he whispered as he gently kissed the back of my neck and held me tightly. I’d never felt more satisfied, more peaceful, more seen, or more loved.
“Do you want to go to bed?” I asked, worried that this position might not be comfortable for him.
“In a minute,” he whispered as he snuggled against me, tightening his arm around me. “I just don’t want to let you go yet.”
That was fine by me. I’d happily stay in his arms forever.
Chapter 31
Olivia
“Worry and stress don’t stop bad things from happening. They just stop ya from enjoying the good.”
~ Maggie Calhoun
A penis pen was thrust in my face as my sister slurred, “Promise that you’re going to come right back!”
“I promise. I’m just going t
o go home and get Channing.”
“Woohoo!” Molly shouted. “Liv’s bringing Channing Tatum to the party!”
“I’m going to have Channing Tatum at my bachelorette sleepover!” Maisy lifted her hands and the entire room cheered.
It was strange being stone cold sober in a house filled with drunk people. Maisy had decided that instead of going out to the city for her bachelorette party she wanted to have an old-fashioned sleepover. So after the rehearsal dinner, which was more dinner and less rehearsal since the only people actually in the wedding party were Holden and me, she’d had all the girls come to her house for an adult slumber party, which meant there was booze.
I’d decided not to partake tonight because in my experience things always came up last minute on wedding days and I felt, as the maid of honor, that I should be at my sharpest tomorrow.
To be honest, it wasn’t some great sacrifice. I didn’t feel like I was missing out at all. I’d sort of been riding high the past week. I was floating on cloud nine. Holden and I were officially a couple. And the entire town knew. We were Facebook official, at least on my account. Holden didn’t have a Facebook account. We weren’t technically living together, but each night we would decide which side of the duplex we wanted to stay in. And yesterday, I’d given him keys to my place.
“Can you get more chips?” Harmony Briggs-Reed—who would, fingers crossed, one day be my sister-in-law since she was married to Hudson Reed—shouted out to me as I walked out the door.
“She can’t.” Molly pointed her penis pen at Harmony. “No stores are open.”
Even drunk my twin was reasonable.
“I think I have some I can bring from home,” I called out.
“Yay!” Harmony celebrated. “Bring chips and Channing Tatum!”
“Chips and Channing Tatum!” A few of the women began to chant.
“Chips and Channing Tatum!” Some others joined in.
“Chips and Channing Tatum!” By the time I closed the door all twenty of them were chanting.
Educating Holden (Wishing Well, Texas Book 11) Page 18