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I needed more from him. I needed everything. My hands must have agreed because they moved from his shoulder to his chest and under his jacket, trying to shove it off his shoulders. He groaned as my careless fingers scraped across a nipple, then he broke the kiss, breathing heavily.
“Sutton, baby, we have to stop. Fuck,” he ground out, lips crashing back into mine until we were a mess of tongues and teeth and lips.
I didn’t care if we were alone in my apartment or in the middle of a wedding. The absolute only thing that mattered to me in this moment was having Holden’s lips on mine. Those perfect, glorious lips that were now placing open-mouthed kisses down my neck — nibbling and sucking until I was a panting mess. My hands slid into his hair as he placed kisses on the top of each breast.
“Holden, Holden,” I chanted, fighting the urge to shove my dress off my shoulders to give him better access.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” The booming voice of the DJ jolted us both back into the moment, where we were just feet away from a tent filled with people. We stared at each other in the dim lighting as the DJ said, “The groom and his mother would like to share a special dance.”
“Do you want to leave? With me? Now?” The series of questions alerted me to just how flustered our kisses had left him.
“Don’t you have to give a speech?” Why I cared about a speech, I had no idea — I wanted more than anything to leave with him right now.
“They decided not to do the whole speech thing.”
“Okay, but what about —”
“I don’t give a single fuck about this wedding, Sutton. I’mlookingat the only thing I care about, and I might fucking die if I don’t have you in my arms again soon.”
And once again I happily followed Holden to wherever he would lead us.
35
Holden led me around the pagoda strewn with lights, his strides so lengthy that I almost had to jog to keep up. He glanced back and slowed his pace. Even the soft lighting couldn’t disguise the almost feral look on his face, like he was seconds from throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me off into the night.
“Where are we going?” I asked, tugging him to a stop when we had walked past the house and around to the driveway.
When he’d asked me to leave, I’d thought we were going to finish what we’d started on the dance floor — and while I was happy to go anywhere with Holden, other parts of my body were at risk of rioting if those places didn’t involve a bed. A bed and no clothing.
“My place,” he responded, propelling us back into motion. He opened the passenger side of his car and helped me in before closing the door and practically running around to the driver’s side.
He wasted no time starting the car and steering around the vehicles parked there for the wedding. As soon as we were on the road, he reached over and took my hand, placing it on his thigh like he needed to maintain some form of contact with me.
“Are you not staying at your parents’ house?” It seemed like the obvious choice, given the fact that his parents’ house was bigger than my college dorm building.
He shook his head, eyes focused on the road.
“No, I’m renting an apartment downtown, across from the courthouse, until the house is finished.”
“Oh.” The one word held a wealth of questions that I would eventually ask — as soon as my brain wasn’t hyper focused on sex.
“I don’t love the idea of living with my parents for any amount of time, but I wasn’t sure what the gap would be between taking the solicitor position and the Bradford place being finished.”
“That makes sense.” He had managed to answer most of my questions with that brief statement. I supposed a grown man wouldn’t want to live with his parents, even if they did probably sleep on fourteen-carat-gold sheets and you could live your entire life in the same house without ever running into each other.
The rest of the car ride was quiet, tension and anticipation filling the air. Holden’s thumb caressed my hand, and I swear I felt the movement between my legs. He parallel parked outside one of the older buildings that had recently been remodeled. The bottom floor was an insurance agency, but the top floor had always been an apartment. I squinted up at it as Holden helped me out of the car. I had a hard time imagining Holden living in the studio apartment that had been the home of our resident flasher for years, until one of his kids came to take him home to live with them. He was actually an incredibly nice man, if you ignored the whole flashing thing. I hoped he was doing well and had given up his flashy ways.
We walked to the alley between his building and the neighboring one, and up the metal stairs that led to the apartment door. Holden wasted no time unlocking the door and flicking on the light. I stepped inside, taking in the space. It had clearly also been remodeled.
“Wow, this —” I started, but Holden’s mouth caught the rest of my words as the door shut.
“So I guess we’re going to skip the tour,” I said, smiling against his lips when his mouth finally left mine.
“Kitchen, couch.” His arm swept around, even though his head stayed hovering above mine. “Loft.”
And then his mouth found that spot right below my ear and sent all the breath whooshing from my lungs on a sigh, the tour forgotten. My fingers ran up his back to his shoulders and under his jacket, shoving it down as far as I could without his cooperation. His hands left my waist to shrug it the rest of the way off and then his mouth met mine again. We were a frenzy of kisses, me tugging his earlobe between my teeth and him responding with playful nips along my neck.
His hands landed on my shoulder, fingers running underneath the thin straps of my dress teasingly.
