Page 33 of Holding Out

Her nipple was the tightest knot.And when he brushed the tip, she whimpered again.And again.He tested her preferences.The flick.The pinch.The tease.The good news was, Becca liked it all.He knew that because his other hand was cupped over those practically non-existent panties, and he could feel her getting wetter against his palm.

He pushed her dress up.And drew back so he could look.

She was—

“Becca, you are so fucking gorgeous.”

Her eyes were huge, her lower lip slack and reddened—she was wrecked, and it looked good on her.So did the barely-there bra and panties.She was perfect.Generous but compact.Those tits—

“I fucking love this dress,” he said, and sucked her nipple through the lace of her bra.

She cried out.Not a little whimper or moan.A full-on cry that arrowed straight through his erection.Her knees buckled, which gave him such a double surge of lust and satisfaction that it almost felledhim.He was going to have to get them both horizontal.

Which—

He hadn’t thought this all the way through.Her book fantasy man probably would have been twelve steps ahead of him, but apparently that guy hadn’t been with anyone half as hot as Becca or he wouldn’t have been thinking at all.

He walked her backward to the bed and gently tipped her back so she was sitting on the edge.When he tried to pull away, she protested and clutched at him again.

She was greedy, just like he’d been sure she’d be.

Why the fuck hadn’t every guy on the West Coast wanted to give her the world?

Idiots, all of them.

He was going to have to compress the world into a single night, because that’s all he could give her.Maybe he was no better than all the other douchebags in the long run, but at least he would show her what she deserved.Just this once.

16

No.

That was about how well her brain was working at this point.She just knew she didn’t want him to walk away.She wanted his body pressed against hers, she wanted as much of him as she could have, and she wanted it as soon as possible.The idea of him moving away, taking his warmth and the intense pull of chemistry that had pretty much blown all rational thought away—

No, no, no.

She grabbed his arms, but he evaded her grasp.He had a plan she couldn’t understand, because she justwanted.

He was turning the covers down for her.Pushing them back.Making a space for her on the clean white sheets.

He came close again, stood between her legs, and she reached for his belt buckle.He batted her hands away.

“Patience,” he said.

“I’m ready.”

He laughed.“Not yet.”

“You’re a tease!”

“I’ll tell you when you’re ready.You wanted the job done right.”

He stepped closer, which made her pussy cry out for contact, but all he was doing was reaching for the zipper of her dress.He maneuvered it down, and she let the dress fall away from her shoulders.“Yeah,” he said.“Yeah, yeah, yeah.God.You are—”

She lifted her butt, pushed the dress to the floor, kicked it away.Reached for his buckle again and was rebuffed again.“I just want to touch,” she whimpered.“I just want tosee.”

Apparently she wasn’t above begging.She’d never actively longed to see or touch a penis before, let alone begged to.Thiswas what people meant when they talked about sexual chemistry.It was some weird fucking magic.

“Scoot back,” he said.

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