Page 182 of Holding On To Good

Even if it wasn’t the truth he wanted to hear.

“I know.”

“I just…I can’t lose you,” she said, quick and urgent.

“You won’t.”

“You didn’t promise,” she whispered. “At the office when I asked you to swear that we’ll always be friends you didn’t give me your word…” She inhaled deeply. “I need you to say it, Urban. I need your promise.”

Goddamn it, she had no right to ask that of him. But like that night when they were kids, he was helpless to refuse her.

Because he didn’t want to lose her, either.

“We’ll always be friends,” he told her gruffly. “I promise.”

Unlike that night, this time his words didn’t feel like a vow, one he’d do his best to keep no matter what it cost him.

This time, they felt like a lie.

Worse than that, they felt like manipulation. Like he’d only said them to keep Willow with him for a little while longer.

Long enough to convince her to stay forever.

It was fucked up and wrong, but before he could take his promise back, before he could do more than say her name, she pressed her mouth to his, stealing his words and his breath.

Over the past two weeks, she’d kissed him dozens of times. Hungry, voracious kisses filled with need. Light, playful kisses meant to entice and tease.

But she rarely kissed him first.

And she never kissed him like this. Soft and slow and languid. As if nothing else in the world was more important than learning the exact shape of his mouth. As if his taste was to be lingered over and savored.

As if it was much more than a kiss.

As if this was her true declaration.

A way for her to tell him what was in her heart, without saying the words. A way for her to show him how much he meant to her without breaking her rules.

A way for her to give him what he wanted while still holding a piece of herself back.

It wasn’t a compromise. It was a copout. A gutless, easy way to let herself off the hook.

But he was no better, no braver or stronger, because he not only let her get away with it, he fisted one hand in her shirt at her lower back, shoved the other hand in her hair, holding her head, and kissed her back.

Their kiss turned feral as he poured everything he had into it. Everything he was. Everything he couldn’t tell her, all the words that threaded through him, stitched there from the time they were kids, as much a part of him as the blood in his veins. The beat of his heart.

Reaching between them, she shoved his shirt up, her fingers trailing across his stomach, skimming just beneath the waistband of his jeans. Back and forth. Back and forth. The friction, the tease of it driving him mad until finally, thankfully, she slid her hand inside his underwear and cupped him.

His groan was a combination of lust and frustration. This wasn’t part of his plan. The dinner. The flowers. The music he hadn’t played. He’d meant to seduce her.

Instead she’d almost walked out on him.

Now, with her warm, soft hand stroking his cock, her small, firm breasts pressing against his chest, her slick tongue in his mouth, all his thoughts of taking his time, of the slow and methodical seduction meant to tear down her walls, went up in flames.

And in its place, like a phoenix rising from the ashes of bad ideas and too many regrets, rose something more powerful. Something more urgent and desperate.

Grabbing a hold of the short, silky strands of her hair, he tugged her head back, reveling in her soft gasp, the way she bucked against him. He held her still while he took the kiss to a deeper, darker level, devouring her moans, sucking on her tongue, nipping at her lips. Part of him, a tiny, still functioning part of his brain, worried he was being too rough, that he was taking too much, but then she bit his lower lip, and had him growling into her mouth, his cock jerking against her hand in reaction.

He wanted to strip her bare, right here, right now. Set her on the counter, spread her legs and make her come with his mouth. He wanted to bend her over his kitchen table and take her from behind. He wanted her on her knees in front of his office window, his hands in her hair, his cock in her mouth. He wanted to come on her belly. On her tits. Mark her as his. To imprint their time together permanently in his mind.

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