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By the time we broke apart, Holt’s fingers had slipped under my T-shirt to stroke my belly. He pressed a final kiss to my neck before sitting back, stretching his arms along the back of the couch and smirking at me. Even in the giant dress T-shirt with a big tongue on the front, he looked achingly hot.
I’d never wanted anyone this much, and he seemed to want me back just as intensely. Was this what it was always supposed to feel like? I knew I should leave soon to get some sleep before work tomorrow, but I didn’t want to. We’d only met last week, and I already wanted to spend all my time with him. He was fun, and he made me feel fun. It was so easy with him. Like we’d just effortlessly clicked, despite being so different.
“I really like you, Holt,” I found myself croaking, once again fiddling with the hem of my tiny T-shirt as a wave of self-consciousness rushed over me.
The smirk dropped from his face as his eyes softened. He leaned back in and cupped my nape, pressing a gentle, seeking kiss to my mouth.
“Good,” he said quietly, nuzzling my cheek. “Because I really, really like you too.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Fabussy
Holt and I couldn’t stay away from each other.
Late Tuesday morning, he sent a text asking me to come down to his day office for a very important business meeting during my lunch break. The moment I got there, he pushed me down into a chair and knelt between my legs to suck my cock, jerking himself off at the same time.
As we were fixing our clothes, Seb returned with his and Holt’s lunch, and the three of us ate together before I had to go back to the office, where I sauntered in with a huge grin, like… well, like a man who’d just had his dick sucked on his lunch break.
I knew Holt would be busy sorting out the match line-ups for the upcoming week, so we didn’t see each other that evening. But for once, eating dinner alone in front of the TV wasn’t at all depressing. Because I knew I’d be seeing Holt again soon.
On Wednesday, he turned up at the HutSec office in his hot little delivery guy outfit with a huge box of donuts and a tray of iced coffee, smoothly telling Grace at the front desk that, “Taylor Hough placed the order and said he wanted to treat all his co-workers.”
As several people hurried to the front desk, he plucked a specific cup from the tray. “Is Tim here?”
Tim from HR frowned a little and stepped forward. “Yes.”
Holt smirked at him, brandishing the cup.
“Special one with almond milk for you, buddy,” he said in an overtly condescending tone, because I’d told him all about Tim’s little rant about someone—as in Holt—drinking his almond milk.
Sharon sighed. “Taylor, you’re so thoughtful.”
“Thanks,” Tim said stiffly, taking the coffee. “Sharon, let me get you a donut.”
“I can get it,” she replied primly, giving me a beaming smile. “So kind of you, Taylor. What a treat!”
“No problem,” I mumbled, trying to get as close to Holt as possible while everyone jostled to get a donut.
He handed me one of the coffees, a black cold brew, then gave my ass a brief squeeze before leaving.
On Thursday morning, I got a text from him telling me to go out into the stairwell. After making up some excuse to Lance, I hurried out there and found him waiting. All he did was throw his arms around my neck and give me a deep, tongue-tangling kiss, then smack my ass as he stepped back and teasingly said, “Stop slacking off to make out with the wildly attractive building owner, Hough. Back to work.”
We arranged for me to go and watch the wrestling with him on Friday night, but we texted constantly up until that point. When I got home from work on Friday evening to eat dinner and change before heading back, I had another text waiting from him.
You know, if you wanted to bring a toothbrush and pyjamas, a sleepover at my place might be fun…
My belly tightened with excitement as I stared down at my phone. Holt wanted me to spend the night with him?
Okay, I typed back, trying not to do a little happy dance in the middle of my apartment. I’d love to.
Excellent, he replied instantly, then followed it up with, Actually, don’t worry about the PJs. You won’t need them, handsome.
A fluttery feeling went through my chest as I grinned, making my way to the bedroom to get undressed for a shower. Before I could reply, Holt sent another text.
But bring the cowboy hat.
—
