Page 18 of Wrapped Up in Holly

“Holly,” I started, wrapping my hand around her arm and yanking so she toppled off balance and onto me. “Baby…”

Her gaze softened. I hadn’t called her baby in a long time. Because I was a stupidstupidman.

“You do so much for me, and I’m going to change that.” I kissed the corner of her mouth. “I promise.” I kissed the other corner. “But, right now…” I licked at her bottom lip. “I need you to do one more thing for me.”

Her breathing was erratic, her breasts rising and falling against my chest. But she stayed quiet, not fighting me on this.

“I need you to take all this pretty lace and satin and put it on. Let me look at you.” I curled my hand around her neck and kissed her mouth, swallowing her tiny sigh. One I hadn’t heard in a very long time. Because I was a stupidstupidman.

I held her close, licking and sucking at her mouth, searching for all the passion and heat that I’d let slip through my fingers over the last few years. I knew my wife was hurt. I knew she was mad. But I also knew we could make it through this.

I apologized with my tongue, begged her with my teeth, comforted her with my hands sinking into her hair. And whenshe finally gave in, the tension in her body melting away, it was like we were kids again.

I supposed this was part of what we had to do. We had to remember who we were before responsibility and schedules and bills and everything else got in the way of us. We stopped finding moments together to be Holly and Evan, but I was determined to change that. Starting now.

I pulled away from her, brushing my lips against her forehead. “Can you do that for me?” I rasped. “Can you let me look at you?”

She nodded, pushing off me with her hand against my shoulder, and reached for her wineglass, downing about half of it. I couldn’t help but notice the nervous twitch of her hands. It’d been a long time since she’d modeled, but she needed this. She needed to know she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

I needed this. I needed to be close to her, to help her remember how much I love her.

Weneeded this.

Holly stood eventually, but instead of changing in front of me, she walked out of the living room and into the small powder room in the hall. Not that I hadn’t seen every square naked inch of her before, but it bothered me that she wasn’t confident enough to stand in front of me and take her clothes off. Whether it was from her own hang-ups or how I’d hurt her, I wasn’t sure. Either way, I hated it.

A few minutes later, Holly’s light footsteps sounded behind me, and I turned to look at her. My wife was tall. When we’d first met at twelve-years-old, I was shorter than her. Now, I was taller by about four inches, but she still came in a bit over 5’10. Her legs were endlessly long, but she was no longer stick thin. Her thighs were thick, hips lush, and stretch marks decorated her stomach, but I couldn’t see it under the long red lace thatskimmed the tops of her legs. When she hesitated to step in front of me, I flicked my fingers.

“Come on, lemme see.”

She toyed with the thin straps at her shoulders which led down to the triangles over her breasts, but what caught my eye were her wedding and engagement rings. The tiny diamond she wore every day.

She’d been mine since we were kids.

She was going to be mine until my last breath.

Which might be soon since I was having trouble inhaling once she finally moved to the front of the living room. She was backlit by the twinkling lights. Her skin practically glowed. Under the lace, her dark nipples were taut and begging for me to lick them.

Still, Holly fidgeted with the hem of the lace.

“Take your hair down,” I told her, because I wanted to see it, but also because I think she needed some help to get comfortable. She tugged the elastic band out, and her hair fell to her shoulders. She’d always complained about it being too straight, but I loved it, loved running my fingers through the sleek strands.

“Don’t be nervous,” I said and snagged her glass as I stood up. I met her by the fireplace and held the cup to her mouth. She raised her glowing amber eyes to mine and pursed her lips, allowing me to pour the alcohol into her mouth while drifting my other hand down her throat. “Don’t swallow.”

Her eyes widened slightly when I bent to kiss her, sliding my tongue over her lips and into her mouth, so I could taste the wine. It was warm and slightly fruity, like cranberries and dark chocolate. I lapped at it, at her, and the wine spilled between our mouths, ran down our chins. She squeaked out a surprised sound, but I wrapped my arms around her middle, pulling her close, letting the liquid soak my shirt.

When there was none left between us, I separated, both of us breathing hard, our skin damp from the wine. She laughed, her eyes lighting up, and I hadn’t realized how much tension I’d been holding from not hearing that sweet sound for so long. With her lips pulled up and her eyes still glittering in amusement, she wiped her hand over my jaw and throat, tugging on the collar of my shirt.

“You’re a mess.”

I dragged my palm down her throat and over the swells of her breasts. “So are you.”

She shrugged, and it was exactly the reaction I was hoping for. To let go.

I did, too.

I squeezed her hip before releasing my grip on her to sit back down. I tipped my chin. “Lemme see.”

Her teeth bit into her lower lip, her gaze sweeping over me. It was a make or break moment, so I let my knees fall open wide and rested my hands on the back of the sofa. There would be no question about what seeing her body did to me.

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