Page 7 of Auctioned to the Agent
Instead of repeating myself, I take her hand and pull her with me through the kitchen to a door next to the pantry, opening it to reveal a set of stairs leading to my basement. I start down the stairs, but Holly stops at the top, still holding my hand.
“Where are we going?” Holly asks, and I turn to her. My position a couple of steps below the landing has us at eye level. Without thinking about it, I reach up and cup her cheek, locking my gaze with hers.
“I have a studio in the basement. Last night, the sound of your voice stopped me in my tracks. Will you please sing for me again, angel?”
Holly leans lightly into my touch and smiles. “You really liked my voice?”
“More than liked it. Sweetheart, you have the voice of a siren. I’ve never heard anything more beautiful.” On impulse, I lean forward and press my lips to hers, keeping the contact light and brief. When I pull away, she’s smiling.
“Okay,” she says, and follows me the rest of the way down the stairs.
The basement is open and spacious, with an entertainment set up and a large TV perfect for the rare sports game I indulge in. But the best part of the space is tucked away at the back. My recording studio isn’t large; I built it just for me to enjoy. I’m not a singer, but I play the piano, and Mick has occasionally drafted me to record a backing track in a pinch.
Letting go of Holly’s hand and giving her a chance to take in the space, I set up my spare microphone in front of a stool and turn on the recording equipment, pocketing the remote that will allow me to start and stop the recording. Guiding Holly to the stool, I have her sit and adjust the microphone for her.
“This is amazing,” she says in a breathy voice. “I’ve never been in an actual recording studio.”
I can’t help a rueful chuckle. “This setup isn’t as impressive as a professional studio, but it’ll due for our purposes.”
“Do you play?” Holly asks, and I notice she is looking at the piano in the corner.
“I do,” I admit. “Not professionally. I mostly play for myself.” Changing the topic, I ask, “Do you have a favorite song? I canlook for a backing track on the computer if you want, but I’d prefer to hear you sing acapella.”
Holly thinks for a moment before surprising me by saying, “I’ll sing if you play for me.”
I met her eyes and smile at the challenge I see there. This a new side to Holly, and I can’t deny that I like it. There is something in her gaze beyond that challenge though. Something heated that calls to something in me. My cock pulses and starts to swell behind my fly, and I have to turn away to adjust myself before Holly notices. I move to the piano and take a seat on the bench, lifting the lid covering the keys.
“What song do you want to try?”
“Can you play, ‘Bound to You?’” she asks.
Fortunately, it’s a song I’m familiar with, given that the movie it came from was so popular the year it released. I nod and hit the record button on the remote then turn to face the piano. I’m just starting to play the opening chords when I feel Holly sink down next to me on the bench. I hadn’t expected it, but I continue to play, and a moment later, she adds her voice.
The song is a sensual love ballad that builds slow but becomes powerful and strong, just like the love it describes. It’s intimate, and sitting next to Holly as she sings shifts something deep in my chest. I’m lucky the song is a simple one to play because I can’t help but get lost in Holly and her magnetic voice.
I’m so wrapped up in her, that I’m not even thinking about what a star she could become or how signing her would benefit my record label. Those thoughts are barely blips on my radar as she weaves a spell of words around me. Our gazes lock as she closes the song, and the following silence is heavy with tension until, as if some invisible string has snapped, we lunge for each other.
Chapter Five
Andrew
I pull Holly into my lap and kiss her deeply, sweeping my tongue along hers, and the feel of her against me lights a fire in my veins. She sits heavily on my lap, rocking over my hard shaft in uncoordinated movements, her arms wrapped tightly around my shoulders.
God, the feel of her is like nothing I’ve experienced. I’ve been with plenty of women. A man in my position and with my wealth has no trouble finding a warm body to lose himself in for a couple of hours when the mood hits. But this, what I’m feeling right now with Holly in my arms is nothing like those meaningless encounters. This is like a lightning strike, scorching and ruinous. I’ve barely gotten a taste of her, but I already know there will be no turning back from this.
Standing, I lift Holly in my arms and settle her against the piano. The keys compress beneath her, but neither of us pays any attention to the sound. Slipping my hands under her sweater, I palm Holly’s sides, working my way up to her breasts. They’re the perfect size to fit one in each palm, and I mold her flesh, swallowing her pleasured moans as I do.
Releasing her mouth to kiss a trail along her jaw and down her neck, I tease one beaded nipple with my thumb before pinching it between my knuckles, making Holly cry out. She sinks the fingers of both hands into my hair and holds me against her skin, silently begging for more. I press an open-mouthed kiss beneath her ear, and she shudders before I pull back to look at her. Her skin is flushed and her eyes are wild and bright.
“Fuck, angel. You’re so fucking beautiful, I can’t get enough of you.” Holly grips my shirt with both hands and pulls me closer between her spread thighs.
“Then why are you stopping?” she asks, showing me more of that feisty spirit.
“Who said anything about stopping? I’m just getting started, but there’s a problem we need to address before I go any further.”
“What’s that?” Her brows crease as a worried expression overtakes her face.
To put her out of her misery, I lean in and kiss her lips before pulling away again and telling her, “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
