by V.K. Sykes
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Holly thought her brain might melt into a puddle of idiot goo under the force of Nate’s sensual onslaught, and wouldn’t that be humiliating. Not that he seemed to mind or even notice. Witty conversation didn’t seem foremost on his to-do list at the moment.
As soon as they were on the expressway, snaking down the twisty road at a relatively sedate speed—sedate for Nate, anyway—he reached across and gently pushed up her dress and stroked the inside of her thigh. It shocked her for about a second, and she gasped softly at the first contact of his confident hand along the silk of her stockings. He glanced at her, a question in his eyes.
Even though Nate was driving at the speed limit on a fairly empty freeway, Holly’s first instinct was to tell him to keep both hands on the wheel. But she found herself trusting him to get them home safely. And she had to admit she wanted his hand to stay where it was.
Besides, the man was an athlete. His level of physical coordination had to be spectacular.
Feeling reckless, she pushed the power control lever to recline her seat a few extra degrees. Then she stretched out her legs and relaxed deeper into the leather cushion. Even over the purr of the engine she heard the hitch in his breathing. That big hand slid a little higher on her thigh and she sighed as a rich, moist heat settled deep and low. It had been way too long since she’d felt that sensation.
Well, she’d never actually felt anything like this. The truth was that a man’s touch had never felt that good before, and they were barely to first base. Her body was responding in an unfamiliar and yet totally natural way.
The lights of the city flashed by in a neon blur, shimmering before her half-dazed vision. The inky night sky, the soft air, and Nate’s hand on her thigh nudged her into a hazy, sensual trance. Holly wriggled her bottom and the dress crept up some more. He took the invitation and slipped his hand higher, barely an inch away from hot, tender flesh. She wanted his hand to do more—so much more, and she couldn’t wait for that to happen.
Of course, she was lying there like a lump when she knew she probably ought to be doing something, too. Nate must want her to do the kind of thing she knew women sometimes did to men while they were driving. But sensual inertia aside, she couldn’t muster up that kind of nerve. Better to let him take the lead rather than stumble into some clumsy mistake that might ruin the evening.
Nate increased his speed and soon they crossed the bridge into New Jersey. Holly closed her eyes, letting pleasure flow through her, and a few short minutes later they were driving through tree-lined suburban streets. Nate brought the car to a smooth stop in front of her little rented house.
His hand withdrew and she instantly missed its warmth, but he swooped in to give her a short, hard kiss that left her breathless. Then he strode around to the passenger side, where he practically hauled her out and set her on her feet. Given the trembling state of her legs, she almost asked him to carry her up the front walk.
She dug into her purse and pulled out her keys. “Here,” she said, handing Nate the jangling bundle. “The one with the red sticker is the front door. I’m sure your hand is steadier than mine, and the lock is a little finicky.”
His only answer was a rumbling laugh that made her insides pull tight with longing.
As they reached the porch, he took the keys and, in the same motion, pulled her closer. His kiss was hungry and insistent, rushing in like a wave. He eased her slowly against the wall of the house, one hand cupping her bottom as he pushed against her. The hard pulse of his erection rubbed against her mound, the delicate fabric of her dress little protection from his heat. The power of his urgent mouth on hers, the feel of his thick bulge against her—the sensations threatened to overwhelm her and she felt a flash of insecurity. They were making out on her front porch and any night owl neighbors could see.
Holly broke the kiss and wriggled out from against the wall. “Inside,” she whispered, glancing around.
“Oh, yeah. I want you naked,” Nate breathed, shoving the red key hard into the lock. He got it on the first try, twisting the door open.
They barely made it through the door before Nate pulled her to him again. She dropped her bag from nerveless fingers and managed to kick off her high heels without wobbling. As tall as she was, she still had to stand on her tiptoes as they kissed. Nate made it easier by supporting her, practically lifting her off the ground.
Despite her size, he handled her with a controlled gentleness. How incredible to be held by such a strong, powerful man, one who could fling her across the room like a rag doll, but whose touch caressed and cherished her. Without taking his lips from hers, Nate smoothly lowered the straps of her dress, sliding them down her shoulders. A moment later he found the clasp of her zipper, his hand moving down her back, building the anticipation as he lowered it.
Releasing her lips, he flicked the bodice down to rest around her waist. His eyes ran hotter than the engine of the DB9 as he studied her breasts, his hands shaping wherever his gaze landed. Holly sucked on her lower lip, loving the feel of her nipples pulling tight as his fingers brushed so lightly over them.
“You make me crazy,” he murmured. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”
Before she could move or even say a word, he ran a string of hot kisses across her neck as he deftly unhooked her bra. She gasped as he slid the straps down her arms. Her breasts fell into his hot, waiting hands.
Holly shivered as the truth of the moment finally sunk in. She was about to have sex with Nate Carter. On their first date. And until a short time ago she hadn’t even been sure it was a date, so how insane was that?
She had known it would come to this since the girl chat in the rest room. She’d spent the rest of the evening thinking about it, thrilling at the thought of his powerful body taking her, even though she finally acknowledged the thrill had been tempered with anxiety.
But the reality of it had remained abstract. Now, as Nate gazed hungrily at her breasts, his eyes locked onto the flushed tips of her nipples, she suddenly felt a sharp stab of panic.
Holly plastered her hands on his chest, her fingers digging into the smooth fabric of his suit. “Nate, hold on,” she gasped.
He slowly pulled back, his eyes clouded with passion “What?”
She looked away from him and took a step back. They hadn’t even made it out of the hallway and she’d let him get her half-naked. Mortified, she quickly put her bra back on. “I could use another glass of wine,” she said in a shaky voice. “What about you?”
She needed time to recover her wits. If she started babbling about how she felt, it would probably come out all muddled and stupid.
Nate looked mystified. But, after a moment he nodded uncertainly, raking a hand through his thick hair. “Well, okay, we can take it slow. Maybe I came on too strong, but...” His eyes cleared and he shook his head. “No buts. Sure, I could use a drink. Got any cognac?”
Relief weakened her knees. As if they aren’t already weak enough.
“Of course,” she said. “I’m my father’s daughter. I always have a good stock of fermented products on hand.” She led him into the kitchen and retrieved a bottle of Courvoisier from her pantry.
“Make it a double,” he said.
Holly pulled up her bodice and flipped the straps back over her shoulders. Seeing Nate’s face deflate, she decided not to reach around for the zipper. She’d already thrown enough ice water in the poor guy’s face.
“Sorry, I just need a breather,” Holly apologized. “But take your jacket off and stay.” She poured a double cognac into a snifter and handed it to him, then uncorked a bottle of red wine and poured a small glass for herself. She didn’t really want any more alcohol, but she needed the cover.
“Okay,” he said, his confusion evident.
He draped his suit jacket over a stool at the counter and followed her into the small living room off the galley kitchen.
“Okay, did I do something wrong?” he asked as sat on the sofa. Its old wooden fr
ame creaked ominously, but he ignored it. Given his big, rangy body, that kind of thing probably happened all the time, but she could only pray her grandmother’s antique sofa didn’t collapse beneath him.
Wouldn’t that be a great end to the evening?
Repressing a spurt of semi-hysterical laughter, she sipped her wine. Finally, when she could no longer avoid his question, she sat down in the overstuffed armchair on the other side of the coffee table and forced herself to look at him. Part of her was amazed he hadn’t already bolted. And it touched her that he continued to wait patiently for her to find her voice.
“Nate, I’m sorry. I really wanted to do this. I can’t tell you how much.” She paused, unhappily searching for the right words.
He simply nodded. If he was angry with her, he was doing a good job of repressing it.
“It’s just that I haven’t had that much experience, and most of what I’ve had has been, well, sort of mediocre. I was always too busy with school or work to bother very much with men and sex.” She shook her head, feeling a prickling in her eyes that told her tears weren’t far behind. That was so not going to happen. “It’s weird and embarrassing to be talking about myself this way. But I feel like I have to get this out on the table,” she finished in a firm voice.
He leaned forward, setting his snifter on the table between them. A smile lifted the edges of his mouth. “Can I try to help you out?”
“Please,” she sighed.
“Based on what you’ve no doubt heard already about me, I’m guessing you think I’m some kind of, I don’t know, super stud or something.”
She stared at her feet, wishing she could crawl under the floorboards. How had she gotten herself into this ridiculous situation? But now that she was in it, she had to plow ahead. “I don’t know about that. But I do know the kind of women you’re used to. And I’m not in the same league.”
Her voice caught on an infuriating croak. Suck it up, Holly. You can do this.
“Look, if we do this, I’ll disappoint you,” she said through clenched teeth. “And I can’t stand the thought of being judged on how good I am. In bed, or whatever. By you or anyone else. That’s not what I’m about.” Angry embarrassed tears stung her eyes. “Damn, this is ridiculous!” She shook her head hard, furious and lost in an unfamiliar jumble of emotions.
Nate pulled out a crisp white handkerchief from an inside pocket and handed it over. With a defiant sniff, she dabbed at her eyes.
“Holly, look at me, okay? Everything’s cool. I understand where you’re coming from.” He moved around the coffee table and went down on one knee before her, reaching out his hand. She hesitated a moment, then held out her own. As Nate grasped it gently, Holly absorbed the warm strength of his calloused palm and her heartbeat began to settle.
“Forget about not being experienced enough,” he said gazing straight into her eyes. “Experience is way over-rated. Trust me on that.” His eyes were warm and open, but his voice held a touch of cynicism. Oddly enough, that reassured her.
Without letting go of her hand, Nate stood and drew her up to him. “And as for disappointing me, you can forget that, too. You’re incredible—in every way. Man, I’m the one who should be worried, not you.”
Hard to believe that, but it sounded like he actually meant it. The tension in her body began to ease.
“Truth?” she whispered.
“Truth,” he said firmly. He slowly pushed the straps of her dress down, his lips brushing each bare shoulder in turn. She shivered as the bodice fell away, just as it had done minutes earlier, and she had to fight not to stiffen up again.
“Relax, sweetheart. Let me take care of you. Let me make love to you,” he whispered in her ear. “Tonight is going to be all about you.”
“Okay,” Holly said, allowing him to pull her close. “I think I can go along with that plan.”
Chapter Twelve