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I shoved my pen and notepad away. It was better than throwing it. “This is so frustrating.”
He came up behind me and put his strong hands on my shoulders. I rotated my neck as he massaged. “You’re so good with your hands.”
His voice dropped low. “Tell me what else you want me to do with them.”
I tipped my head back and let my gaze caress the hard angles of his face. “Can you make me forget what’s going on for a little while?”
He spread his hands flat over my shoulders and stroked down my arms, bending over me. “I can’t make you forget, but I can give you an outlet to vent your emotions.”
“I’ll take it.”
I rose, but he caged me by the table and moved my phone closer to my notepad and pen.
“Aren’t we going to the bedroom?”
His smoldering gaze landed on me. “You expecting company?”
“No?” I glanced out the window facing the street. The neighborhood was usually quiet, but there was no school. What if some kids went outside to play?
He reached over and tugged the cord. The blinds fell shut. Instant privacy.
We didn’t waste time after that. I wound my fingers through his hair as our mouths clashed. My ass bumped into the table, and he lifted me the rest of the way, managing to get my leggings rolled down.
I was about to undo the clasp to his jeans, but he released my mouth, leaving me bereft for a second before he kneeled. Peeling my pants off, he dropped them, his hot gaze not leaving my center.
He pushed my legs apart, and I swallowed hard. Broad daylight, kitchen-table sex. It wasn’t like I was in a sex club with twenty strangers watching, but my mind didn’t believe it. My heart raced and my self-consciousness peaked, but typical Holden—he wiped all that out of my mind.
He descended on me, burying his face between my legs. I twined my fingers through his hair once again and gave in to the storm of sensations. He did what he’d said he would and gave my emotions an outlet.
We were alone. I was free to cry his name, holler my pleasure, and pant and moan—all things I needed because he brought me to climax hard and fast.
When I exploded, he didn’t give me a chance to float down from my peak. He was up and ripping open his pants. Shoving them down only far enough to free his hard erection, he plunged into me. Pleasure surged in response. He had his thumb on my clit, doing nothing but resting it there while he thrust in and out.
This wasn’t a sweet and intimate interlude. This wasn’t a sexy quickie. This was a release. Just what I needed.
I came again, bucking hard against him. I would’ve slid across the table, but he captured my legs and held me in place as he growled and braced himself on the table as he came.
He stayed inside me and continued to hold my legs. “Feel better?” he asked, breathing hard.
“Yeah. The pressure is definitely off.” I felt less like I was going to crawl out of my skin or hide in a corner and cry about the path my life had taken and more like I could don my armor and go into battle.
He eased out of me. “We can do that every hour if you need it. All fucking weekend.”
I believed him. Neither of us would be able to walk by the time I left for Bismarck on Sunday to pick up the kids, but I’d be too boneless to worry. I’d be too spent to care about how the upcoming legal battle would affect my life.
I thought I might even be able to ignore what the likely outcome would be. Because I hadn’t forgotten what Kira had said and the unfair pressure it put on me and Holden during a time I couldn’t handle much more. Her words had highlighted where I had to put my priorities and what it might mean.
I had the weekend to figure something out—or come to terms with what I might have to do if I couldn’t.
* * *
Holden
It was Sunday, and Emery had been pensive and quiet all day. I showered and dressed and was about to leave to run home and do chores. I had on my coat and boots when I found her sitting at the kitchen table.
She was stirring a cup of cocoa and staring out the window.
“Want me to grab some lunch to bring back before you leave?” I asked.
