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They’re there, haunting us like a ghost I can feel in every floorboard and rafter of this house.
* * *
Falling asleep next to Holt shouldn’t be this nice.
It took me a while to drift off with my brain going in circles, but the nice thing is that Holt knows just how to let a girl be.
He didn’t pry at me, didn’t push me.
He just held on and let me tire myself out.
It felt safer, somehow, to do that in his arms.
Knowing he was lying there awake with me, guarding me from my own bad thoughts.
Maybe he was having bad thoughts, too. But at least we were having them together, and I kinda hope being so close helped him the same way he helped me.
Still, it took far too long to fall asleep last night.
I’m a sleepy wreck come morning.
A little too sore to be riding much today. I swear, it’s with complete disgust that I crack one eye open and watch him roll out of bed like it ain’t nothing.
He’s full of energy, moving with this sinuous grace that makes him as impressive as he is gorgeous.
“Oh, nooo. Don’t tell me,” I groan, dragging a pillow over my face against the rising rays of the sun flitting through the window. I can’t resist peeking at him, watching how the light flows over his body. “If I’d known you were a morning person, I’d have kicked you out.”
“As opposed to fucking?” Holt snorts back a laugh as he steps into his boxers and jeans, hoisting them up around those delicious V-hip crests designed to make a girl insane.
“Why you gotta say it like that?” I snag the other pillow and toss it at him.
He ducks, still laughing, and rakes a hand back through that sin-black hair, smirking at me.
“’Cause that’s exactly what happened. We fucked real hard, honey. Your legs wrapped around my waist, and…” He turns his head, glancing at his own shoulder, where a fading red mark digs into his skin in two neat oval-shaped arcs. “Yep. Sure enough, you bit me.”
“Oh my God.” I scrunch down, pulling the covers up over my head. “Get out. Get outta my house, you dick.”
Mortified, I’m still laughing.
“Kind of have to. I’ve got work. We’ve got a shipment of new equipment coming in today so we can pick up clearing the Paradise Hotel site.”
His weight pushes the bed down then, and he catches the covers and drags them down.
Then he kisses me, kneeling over me until all I can see is him and the light and then nothing at all. I close my eyes and sink into it with a soft, hungry sigh.
He makes me feel too good.
Like I’m just liquid in a lady-shaped skin, slowly heating up until I’m ready to boil over with every caress of his mouth, every slow taste he takes of my lips.
He knows how to kiss a girl, all right.
That perfect mix of sweet and naughty that makes me tingle in all the right places.
He uses his tongue in soft suggestion, slipping into me until I’m moaning, going loose, forgetting I even meant to hide from him and kick his stupid, arrogant, sexy ass out of my house.
I’m a lazy mess by the time he lets up, my defenses burnt to a crisp. He pulls away with a self-satisfied smile that says he’s got me right where he wants me.
Ass.
But I can’t stay too mad when he gives me that smile and tucks my hair back with coarse fingertips.
“Stay in bed a while longer,” he says. “You work hard enough. I’ll make you breakfast.”
“You’re just trying to spoil me so I don’t put you out.”
“Not quite, but the thought might’ve crossed my mind.” His smile fades, though, his eyes darkening, concerned lines crisscrossing his brow. “You going to be okay on your own here today?”
“I’ll be fine. Those assholes won’t come back. Not in broad daylight.”
“Only if you’re sure.”
I shove my hand into his face, laughing. “Go make my breakfast already.”
“Will do,” he rumbles, his lips moving against my palm and making those hot sweet tingles slice through me.
Damn him.
Damn him all to hell.
I’m still damning him by the time the smell of hand-griddled blueberry waffles drags me out of bed and downstairs.
He’s not a bad cook.
It’s nice sharing breakfast, quiet and easy in between a few jabs at each other ’cause we just can’t resist.
But it’s also different now, not all anger and salt in open wounds.
It’s like a kiss with a sting of pain, that sweetness from the nip of hungry teeth against sensitive lips.
I think I kinda like it.
I’m still thrown off guard at how weird it hurts to watch him walk out the door with an arrogant wave over his shoulder.
Even knowing he’s coming back tonight.
Even knowing the second he walks in that door…he’s going to tumble me onto my back and make me beg for it.
