Page 47 of In Your Dreams, Holden Rhodes

I nodded and sat up, catching my breath. “Right. Sorry.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine. You probably haven’t been laid in a while.”

My mouth fell open in frustration. “You were about to come from grinding on me and I’m the one who hasn’t been laid in a while?”

Anger flared in her eyes. “No, I wasn’t.”

I snorted. “Yes, you were. Your thighs were shaking.” Her mouth opened and closed in shock and I moved to standing. I was out of breath. “It’s fine. So you have a sensitive trigger button.”

She blinked about six times. “It’s late. You should go.” Her face flushed harder. She grabbed my hand and pulled me to the front door.

“Don’t take the garbage out until tomorrow morning,” I said, picking up the painting of me crying I had left downstairs before stepping onto the porch. “Or the raccoons will get into it.”

She shot me a haughty look. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

I snorted. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

The door closed behind me and I walked to my truck. I was still hard from her writhing on me, and I could still hear her breathy moans in my ear, feel her gripping my hair as she spiraled outwards with arousal.

This was a problem. It would complicate things and get in the way of me finding a long term partner, but as I drove home, grinning wide, I didn’t give a shit about any of that.

I wanted to do it again, and she did too, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

19

Sadie

I wokeup the next morning, thinking about Holden.

Sunlight streamed into the bedroom. Katherine’s old room was feeling like mine, with my clothes strewn everywhere and my paint supplies all over her desk.

Holy shit. I almost came whiledry humping. That didn’t happen. Ever. I only came with a vibrator, by myself, on a really good day when I was fully hydrated and well-rested, and even that situation was iffy. If I had a tough day at work or was tired or stressed, no dice.

With a guy? Never. Never ever.

All Holden had to do was grip my ass and work my hips against his, and I was almost there.

This was bad. This was so bad. I didn’t want to think about what this meant.

It was the press of him between my legs that did it. That thick, hard ridge rocking against me scattered my thoughts.

I chewed my lip. The second I had realized what that build of pressure in my lower belly meant, I panicked.

The memory of his stubble scraping against my neck made me shiver in my bed. The way his mouth had taken mine had dragged me underwater, where nothing else mattered except us tasting each other. He had wound me tighter and tighter with his tongue, sweeping into my mouth, kissing me like I’d never been kissed before. Heat built between my legs as I inhaled his scent.

God. His scent. It turned off all the lights in my brain. The second he kissed my neck, I was done.

I cringed and covered my face with my hands. We weren’t supposed to be making out. I wasn’t dating. I wasn’t going to tee myself up for a Grant redo. Grant was perfect, until he really,reallywasn’t.

Besides, Holden wanted to get married, and the idea of ever getting involved with that again made my skin crawl.

Get your shit together, I told myself.

Holden didn’t like me. He was probably horny after seeing that huge alien dildo. I groaned in embarrassment and made a mental note to email the company today. Of all the toys they could have mixed it up with, they sent that thing?

Holden’s dark gaze from last night flashed into my head and the apex between my legs ached. I blew out a long breath. That crackly, exciting energy from last night with Holden was because of hormones, those pesky bastards. My hormones told me I needed an orgasm, and Holden smelled good, so they connected the two. If I wanted to avoid more moments like last night, I needed to come, and to come, I needed a vibrator.

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