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“Oh, shit,” he says, slipping his fingers out of my hair and pushing himself up on one elbow to look down at me with his brows furrowed into an almost comically deep line. “Am I in trouble already?”
I can’t help but laugh, turning to muffle it in the pillow.
He’s like a little boy in a grown man’s body, sometimes.
It’s ridiculous and cute as hell.
“What?” He actually sounds worried. “What’d I say that’s so funny?”
“That.” I hide another snicker against the pillow, then clear my throat and turn my head to rest my cheek to the cool pillowcase again, looking up at him. “I’m not mad. I was just wondering if you were like this with other girls.”
Holt looks straight-up confused. Then he sinks back down on the bed slowly.
“Like what?” he asks.
“Making them feel…”
I frown, trying to find the words for it. For the way I felt when he looked at me like I was the only woman in the world, touching me like he knew me better than I know myself.
Yeah. That.
Every bit of that.
“…special. Treasured. That’s why they hated you, because they realized after it was over it was all fake.” I bite my lip. “A dream. One that made them wish they could never wake up—only you’re already gone, leaving them dreaming away all by their lonesome.”
Something I can’t quite figure out flickers in his eyes.
It’s dark, strange, and it might almost be sad.
“Is that how you’re feeling now?” he asks softly.
“I don’t know.” I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t like lying, either.
I’ve had e-damn-nough of that for a lifetime.
“I don’t know if you’re really here with me,” I say.
“Oh, I’m here, honey,” he promises, his voice deep and hot. “If you’re dreaming, then I’m dreaming right the fuck with you, woman. And I’m not keen on waking up.”
The way his words come out kills me.
This rough, heartfelt thing, hitting that much harder when his gritty voice has this sensuous quality that just makes my knees butter.
About as weak as the roughness of his palm gets me.
He presses it to my cheek and strokes down my jaw, holding me captive with those eyes.
I’m back to thinking they must be the devil’s again.
He’s got me that spellbound.
“Truth be told, I’ve never been like this with any woman in my life. That’s not just pretty talk to make you believe me, either. It’s…fuck.” He makes a low sound in his throat, brows lowering. “Women always wanted me to be dirty. So I was. You’re the first woman who wanted something else.”
He stops.
Dead stops, staring at me like I’m something he’s never seen before in his life, something that confuses and enchants him all at once. My heart trips over wild beats.
“You wanted me to be real,” he finishes in a whisper. “So I was real for you, Libby.”
God, it almost pisses me off, the way I flutter up when he talks like that.
I want to believe him, instead of thinking it’s just some slick act so I won’t put him out on his ass before he’s gotten a good night’s sleep out of the deal.
But something about what he said bugs me.
I actually hurt for him instead of bracing for him to hurt me.
“What about for you?” I ask.
His mouth quirks quizzically. “What do you mean?”
“You were dirty for them and real for me. I mean, you were plenty dirty, too, but you know what I mean.” I press my hand to that huge, rough hand against my cheek, turning my head to kiss his palm and inhale his scent.
He smells like hot summer days and the mountains and a hint of raw, wild sex.
“What do you ever do that’s for you, Holt?” I ask.
“Tough question.” Holt smiles, and there’s that completely disarming boyish sweetness coming out again. “A whole lot of what I used to do was tied up in my ego. So even if I was being filthy for those girls, I was also doing it for me. To prove something. That I could make them crave me, make them want me. So in a way, doing what they wanted was all for me. I wasn’t some martyr.”
“Yeah?” I whisper.
He lingers on me, stroking his thumb against my cheek, tracing just beneath my eye.
“Being real for you, that was all about you. About wanting to make sure that if you were gonna give me a shot, actually be with me…” The more he talks, the more that Heart’s Edge drawl comes out, lazy and purring. “That you wouldn’t regret shit. Even if we never do this again, I don’t want you to regret tonight.”
God, I want to believe him.
Hard not to when he touches me like this is his only chance, and he’s making sure he remembers it for the rest of his life.
Making sure I remember it, too.
