Page 47 of The Rebel (Looking to Score 1)
Fuck.
I grunt, and Eden murmurs her approval.
“Your mouth feels so good,” I say on a groan, petting her hair and tucking it behind one ear.
The sight is erotic as hell, and I lose myself in the pleasure of it. She’s perfect.
The intensity of my release is unexpected. Normally, I’m quiet in bed, so I’m surprised to hear the deep groan that rumbles in my chest, and the sound of her name falling from my lips. My cock jerks in her mouth, but Eden doesn’t let up, swallowing me until I’m spent and relaxed.
Finally, she releases me and sits back on her heels. “That okay?”
“Fuck.” I groan again and tug her onto my chest. She laughs softly and lets me hold her. “You’re incredible.”
I hold her close, wondering how long she’ll lie with me like this. I’m sure she’s about to get up and dress and make an excuse about going back to her own room. And while I do understand that, it doesn’t mean I’m happy about letting her go.
But then she sits up, pulling the sheet with her to cover her naked chest, and I can tell there’s something else on her mind.
“I was wondering about something.”
17
* * *
EDEN
Holt said I could ask him anything, and lying here in bed with him, I believe him. I’m sleepy and completely satisfied, and apparently that’s a recipe that makes me want to reminisce. I’ve just asked Holt about our night together way back in college, and now he’s gone quiet on me.
His chin dips and he presses a soft kiss to my forehead. “I thought it was obvious I enjoyed myself back then.”
I smile in the darkness. Most of the light from outside is now gone, and there’s only a soft lamp glowing dimly in the corner. “That’s good. I thought about that night often over the years.”
I’m not sure if I should have admitted that, but now that it’s out there, I decide it’s only fair—I wouldn’t want to hide my truth from Holt.
“So, you never regretted it, then?” His voice is low and husky.
Surprise jolts through me. “Regret? What makes you say that?”
“You left that note,” he says, his low voice a little unsteady. With each word, it sounds like he’s stepping around broken glass. “I worried that I’d hurt you or something. Wondered if you felt pressured or just didn’t enjoy yourself. I tried to make the right decisions, respect your boundaries and all, but that note . . . you said it was all a mistake.”
He studies my palm for a moment, then releases a sigh, his sad eyes meeting mine.
“At the time, I thought it was.” My voice is soft, hesitant. “I was inexperienced and so uncertain about what I wanted. Later, I realized the real mistake was running from your bed and into someone else’s arms,” I whisper. “But I didn’t know that then. I was young and stupid.”
“Hey.” He sits up, leveling me with a stern look. “You’ve never been stupid. You graduated magna cum laude. Stupid people don’t do that.”
“Fair,” I say, but then his words fully register, and the slightest smile tugs at my lips. “But wait. How did you know I graduated magna cum laude? Did you check on me after you left Sutton?”
He lifts a shoulder, and if I’m not mistaken, the faintest flush appears on the apples of his cheeks. “Can’t blame me for being curious about the gorgeous, mysterious girl who came into my life for one perfect night and then disappeared for good.”
“Not for good, it turns out,” I murmur, nuzzling into his chest.
It’s a little dangerous to be this vulnerable with him, I admit. I have no idea where a man like Holt fits into my life. What I do know, however, is that being with him in this moment feels right, logistics aside. So I snuggle in a little tighter, enjoying the feel of his heartbeat on my cheek. But when I feel myself start to doze off, I know it’s time to go.
“It’s late,” I say through a yawn. “I’d better get back to my room.”
He sighs. “I wish you wouldn’t.”
“I wish that too. But it’s for the best.”
Reluctantly, I peel myself away from him, immediately missing his touch the moment it’s gone. I collect my clothes from the end of the bed, and Holt does the same with his boxers, hiking them up over his hips before tugging on a pair of sweats from his suitcase. At the door, he treats me to another long, slow kiss, the kind that makes me wish I could say fuck it and crawl back into his bed for the night.
There’s nothing I’d love more than to spend the rest of the evening wrapped in his arms. But there’s also nothing that would ruin my career quicker. So with one last squeeze of his hand, I slip out the door.
