Page 32 of Holding Out

But the kiss wasn’t cute.It was—

She was—

Her mouth was soft.Warm.And the way she opened for him, it felt so personal.Like she was lettinghimin.And she didn’t just take his tongue, which would have been sexy enough, she gave back.She tangled with him.She teased him.She edged into his mouth and took control for a hot second, which jacked him way up, fast.He took control back, pressing her against the wall and wedging his thigh between hers, and that pushed his buttons hard, too.

So did the little moan she let out when his thigh made contact with the vee of her legs, and the heat he could instantly feel through whatever she was wearing—not much—and his own pants.

Ding!

The doors opened.She clutched at his arms when he pulled away, trying to keep him close, and he laughed.She laughed, too, and let him go.

“You’re hot, you know that?”

Again, that goddamn surprise on her face.Fuckers, all of them, whoever they were.

He led her out of the elevator and down the hall.To their room.He didn’t look down because he knew his dick was making an undignified tent in his pants, and he didn’t want to draw her eyes there.Not yet, anyway.Later, he’d want her looking plenty.The tent jumped at the thought of her, big-eyed, her mouth puffy from kisses, staring at him with the same awe she’d given the Met earlier tonight and the Edgewater lobby just now.Not that he deserved any particular awe—although he did okay for himself—but just because that was what he wanted, desperately, to put on her face.

He opened the door to the room and let her walk in ahead of him.It wasn’t a brilliant act of chivalry or anything, it just let him ogle the sway of her hips under that teeny-tiny dress.The dress was so ridiculously short and so ridiculously loose that a stiff breeze would bare her ass to him.He wanted so badly to flip the edge up and look at what she was wearing underneath ...

But he was a tour guide tonight, and he had responsibilities.He had to set the standard for all visitors to come, so she would know what she deserved and never settle for less.

“Oh my God, Griff,look.Furs!”

There was, in fact, a fat little fur-covered ottoman in the shape of a bear.

And a fireplace, with a fire in it.One of his requests.And a bottle of champagne on the table and a bowl of chocolate-covered strawberries.

She clapped a hand to her mouth.“Oh, Griff.”

“First things first.”He opened the champagne, poured two glasses, and toasted her.

Her eyes were not just big.They were shiny.His chest ached, hard.Well, damn.It was so easy to please her.Like no one had ever goddamn tried.And as mad as he was at all the other assholes who hadn’t, he was way happier to be the first, which worried him.

He set the candles he’d brought around the room and lit them while she watched and sipped champagne.She’d kicked her shoes off, and he thought of telling her to put them back on, but he liked the way she was wiggling her toes against the plush of the carpet.

“It’s so much,” she whispered.“It’s too much.”

“That’s what she said,” he quipped, trying to lighten the mood a little.He didn’twanther to cry.That hadn’t been the point of any of this.

She giggled and came close as he lit the last candle.She put a hand on his chest and slid it slowly down his stomach to his belt, where he caught it and removed it before she could finish her exploration.

“Not yet.”

“But I want to feel you.”

The body part in question throbbed at the sentiment, but he shook his head.He felt wound up all over.Like his skin was too tight.Like his blood was rushing too fast.Like he was going to lose his mind if he didn’t kiss her.

He touched her cheek.Eased his hand back to cup her head.Stepped forward at the same time as he drew her to him.And kissed her.

She whimpered into his mouth.Fuck.She dug her fingers, hard, into his biceps.Clutched him, her body alive against his.She was going to kill him.

He metered the kisses.Held them back, held her still, a hand on her head, then her arms, then her waist.He didn’t want to lose control.He could taste the wine she’d drunk but mostly he could tasteher, a pleasure with no name at all that he was pretty sure he was going to crave for months after this.

The length of her body pressed to his.Curves against chest, and then she tipped her hips against his dick, seeking him with her heat.The shamelessness of it, so at odds with the good-girl vibe, slayed him.He tipped back, rubbing against her, abandoning better judgment.He slid his hands under the front of her dress and found a triangle of lace that subsided to a sopping string before it dove between her ass cheeks.Jesus.He made a noise he didn’t mean to make and she bit him, hard.

This wasn’t supposed to be like this.He was supposed to be in charge here.

He forced himself to man up.He crushed his lust, put an inch of space between his throbbing dick and her heat, slid his hand up the curve of her waist to the lace cup of her bra.He brushed the lace away.Her skin was softer than satin, and he wanted to apologize for the roughness of his palms, but he didn’t think the sound she made when he circled in on her nipple was begging for an apology.It was begging forsomething, but not that.

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