Page 56 of The Rebel (Looking to Score 1)
She kisses me like this moment is important, like I mean something to her other than being a guy she can swap a few orgasms with. It’s a dangerous thought for me to be thinking because I know the gulf that separates us.
Forcing myself to break the kiss, I move to my side and grab a condom from the nightstand. Keep a clear head, Rossi. This isn’t important or special. It’s just a hookup. Just like the one we shared in college that wasn’t even meaningful enough for Eden to stick around for until morning.
“Let me help with that,” she murmurs, taking the condom from me and working it down onto my shaft.
I’ve never had a woman help with this task, but something about her touch makes it all the more erotic. I hover over her and plant gentle kisses on her throat as I line myself up between her parted thighs. She keeps her eyes on mine as I slowly press forward, beginning to ease myself inside.
My eyes sink closed as pleasure sizzles through my body. She’s so damn warm and wet, and every inch of her is inviting. It’s an almost spiritual moment.
I keep my pace slow, leisurely at first. I can’t ruin this by coming yet, as much as my body is in favor of that idea. The base of my spine tingles and my balls ache. But I have to make this equally as good for Eden.
I want to confess so many things to her, but the words catch in my throat. I want to promise to always keep her safe. I want to beg her to stay with me—always. I want her to be mine and no one else’s.
Of course, I say none of those things out loud because I learned a long time ago that hope is a dangerous thing. Eden will probably get her fill of me and move on once she realizes where we each are in the pecking order.
I chase the sad thought away with a steady snapping of my hips. She whimpers, pressing her pelvis to mine, meeting me stroke for stroke.
“Fuck, you feel good,” I say, groaning.
“So do you.” She sounds breathless, and I love it. Love knowing that I’m driving her wild with desire, just like she does to me.
“Did you ever think about it?” she asks, surprising me.
“This?” I breathe out the word, pressing my mouth to her throat, and she nods. “All the time. Did you?”
I’m dying to hear her answer. Did she think about us fucking as often as I did?
Eden meets my eyes, and like she’s admitting to a long-guarded secret, she nods.
Male pride surges through me, and my pulse rate increases. So does my tempo.
We’ve waited so long for this moment, and now that it’s here, it’s even better than I could have anticipated. I feel . . . well, pleasure, obviously, but there’s also a sense of peace I didn’t expect. We’re like two halves of a whole, finally together again. No one understands me quite the way Eden seems to.
“Holt,” she cries, pressing her fingernails into my shoulder. “There.”
It’s better than I imagined it would be when she starts to come. And believe me, I imagined it a lot—what our first time together might feel like. It’s so intense, I don’t know how I’ll ever recover.
My release tears through me, dismantling me from the inside out. A hot rush of pleasure that rips the air from my lungs and makes my body jerk once, twice. Fuck.
When I untangle us and peer down at Eden, she’s smiling. “What?”
She tips her chin, playing coy. But in my head, I pretend that she’s thinking, If I’d known you were so good at that, I wouldn’t have waited six years.
And hell, maybe it’s true.
22
* * *
HOLT
“You didn’t have to do all this, you know.” Eden gives me a shy look from across the center console of my car.
Yes, I did. I ruined what was supposed to be our last date. After I got a panicked phone call from my mom, my mood had plummeted and I didn’t have the energy to cook for Eden like I promised. While we ended up more than salvaging the date, ordering takeout and cuddling . . . and then, well, things turned physical and I have zero complaints there.
But it wasn’t the same as having a nice date. And I didn’t want to leave her hanging. Eden is the kind of woman who deserves to be wined and dined.
Then why exactly am I taking her on a date to a drive-in movie theater, you ask?
Maybe because I know most guys would plan something extravagant to try to impress the wealthy heiress. I also know she couldn’t care less about pomp and circumstance. I’m hoping she enjoys this casual downtime together.
