Page 142 of In Your Dreams, Holden Rhodes

She loved me, and she was staying. I kissed her harder. I was never, ever letting her go.

“Are you trying to distract me from painting you?” she mumbled as I backed her against a wall.

“Never.” I kissed her slow, soft, lazy, because we had all night and I wanted to savor her. “Upstairs?”

She shook her head, gaze locked on mine. Her fingers stroked the hair at my nape and my eyes fell halfway closed as the sensation shot tingles down my spine.

“In front of the fireplace.” Her throat worked and her gaze dropped to my mouth. “The light is better.” She leaned up on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss onto my mouth. She lingered and I inhaled her, saturating myself with the overwhelming brightness that was Sadie.

“Be right back. I’m going to change.” She winked and slipped out from under my grasp, running up the stairs, shooting a cheeky grin over her shoulder before she disappeared down the hall.

I stood there, watching her go, with a half a mind to follow her up and help her take her clothes off.

I wanted her to paint, though, and I wanted to watch her paint. I headed upstairs after her to bring down her painting supplies.

When she returned to the living room, I had already settled into the chair. Two mugs of hibiscus tea steamed from the coffee table. The fireplace was on and dancing with flames, casting a warm glow around the room along with the soft lighting.

My gaze skimmed all the places her leggings clung. The curve of her thighs. The shape of her calves. The hem above her delicate ankles. Those toes with sparkly gold polish.

Her hoodie. It wasmyhoodie I had gotten from a client a few years ago from a golf tournament. It was way too big for her. The sleeves bunched and it hung to the tops of her thighs.

“Fucking hell, you look cute in that.”

She smiled openly at me, picking up her mug and blowing the steam off it. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, watching her lips as they moved.

She winked at me and grinned wider. “Easy, tiger. You get comfortable and I’ll put some music on.”

I stayed right where I was as she moved around the living room. Her fingers walked over the records before she pulled a record out.Rumorsby Fleetwood Mac.

As she slid the record out and set it onto the player, her delicate motions enchanted me, spinning a spell around me, drawing me in and pulling my entire focus. The way her fingers moved. The way she shifted as she set the album cover on the table. How her mouth lifted into a smile every time our eyes met. I swallowed again.

She turned the record player on and Stevie Nicks’ voice scraped into the room at a low volume. She stepped toward me, assessing my position in the chair with a thoughtful, fucking adorable look on her face.

“Shift sideways a bit?” she asked, gesturing. She worried her bottom lip, studying me as I did as I was told.

“I love when you tell me what to do,” I whispered, fighting a smile. I was already hard from anticipating this, and the intimacy of being in my home that now felt likeourhome.

She broke off with a quiet laugh. “You’re so beautiful, Holden. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever met.”

My pulse beat in my ears. No way in hell I’d ever forget Sadie Waters standing in my living room, wearing my hoodie with that open expression on her face, like it mattered what I thought.

She grinned but her eyes fell to my straining erection. Her eyebrows lifted.

I shot her a rueful smile, raking my hand through my hair. “You’re wearing my hoodie. How could you blame me?”

She smiled wider. “Of course, wearing your hoodie, how could I tease you like that?”

She laughed softly and set her brushes out, studying them. My side facing the fireplace warmed and I relaxed into the chair, letting out a long breath.

I raked a hand over my hair again, smoothing it. “Hair look okay?”

Her gaze returned to me. “Hair looks perfect, baby.”

My brain melted at her calling me that. I swallowed past a rock in my throat.

“I want the real Holden,” she said, eyes on her paints, a little smile on her face. “Unruly hair and all.” Her gaze cut back up to mine and my heart expanded in my chest.

The cutest little frown appeared between her eyebrows as she concentrated on sketching me. She hummed with the music. The quick scrape of her pencil over the canvas gave me goosebumps. Behind her eyes, she went somewhere else while her gaze cut between me and the canvas, her pencil moving fast. She went somewhere quiet, thoughtful, and focused.

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