Page 21 of Hollis (The Moore Men #2)

Thirteen

Ford

B ringing the bottle up to my lips, I tip my head back and let the chilled brew fill my mouth while the condensation drips onto my lap. With my line of sight hidden behind the dark sunglasses on my face, I can’t help but watch him… Hollis fucking Moore.

He’s sitting beside Remi on the picnic table directly across from me, wearing teal board shorts, still wet from the river, a pair of black slides, and a black Moore Family Ranch hat sitting backwards on his head, with dark brown strands of hair on his nape peeking out from underneath the bill.

No shirt. The half-empty bottle of tequila sits next to him, and he’s got a beer in his hand and a portable fan around his neck as his attention stays focused on his friend.

Why the fuck can’t I tear my gaze away?

Why am I suddenly noticing the littlest things about him?

Like the way his cheeks crease and his eyes squint as he throws his head back and chuckles at whatever Remi is saying. Or how the sound is infectious and oddly arousing. How the fuck can his laugh turn me on?

It’s been like this all goddamn day, and it’s becoming a problem.

After I ran away and left Hollis sitting in the woods last night, I climbed back into my tent and passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The full-body relaxation and utter exhaustion that settled in my bones from that mind-blowing orgasm was clearly strong enough to quiet my mind and stop my spiraling.

At least, for the rest of the night. As soon as I peeled my eyes open this morning, everything—the messages, his realization, the blow job, the way it made me feel—came rushing back, hitting me like a ton of bricks.

My dick was hard, my heart was pounding, and my mind was going a mile a minute.

All day, I’ve done my best to avoid Hollis, but he’s not making it easy.

During breakfast, he came up beside me, and his arm brushed against mine when I was fixing myself a burrito.

His smirk told me it wasn’t accidental. Then the group hiked down to the river to do some fishing, and while I managed to sit away from him, I could feel his gaze burning a hole through the side of my head the whole time.

For the most part, I’ve been successful at dodging eye contact, and surprisingly, he hasn’t brought up last night, but none of that matters because, much to my chagrin, my body now seems to be in tune with his.

It’s infuriating.

Even when he’s not in my line of sight, I can sense when he’s near.

The hair on the back of my neck stands up, my skin tingles, and goosebumps cover my arms. How can one quick, frenzied blow job leave this kind of effect on me?

I don’t even know what to make of it. Nothing should’ve happened—that much I do know—but I can’t bring myself to regret it or wish it didn’t happen because it was…

Well, it was the best damn blow job I’ve ever had.

I can say that confidently.

And that’s not to say my sex life has been boring or terrible before now, because it hasn’t.

Communication in bed has never been something I’ve struggled with, and sex has always been important to me, been something that helps me feel connected.

It’s something I enjoy, and not just the physical release, but the emotional aspect too.

The intimacy . I crave it. Learning their body while they learn mine.

But last night, with Hollis… We didn’t need communication.

He knew exactly what I needed before I even knew.

And fuck me , the things his mouth can do.

He swallowed me down like his life depended on it.

Like he was attempting to suck the soul from my body.

And hell, maybe he did. Maybe that’s why I can’t stop looking at him, or why my body thrums like a live wire any time he gets too close, or why the deep, rich sound of his laughter sends a rush of heat down my spine.

I fucked up.

I was weak.

But having him in front of me, feeling his body heat burn into me, feeling his lips against my ear as he repeated everything I said I wanted to do to him, hearing the raw desire and need in his tone, was too much.

Too arousing.

Too enticing.

Too fucking tempting.

Even the strongest of man would’ve given in.

“Yo, Cap!” The sound of Remi’s voice cuts through my mental fog, and I realize I’ve zoned out so much that he and Hollis have gotten up from the picnic table. Sitting up straighter and clearing my throat, I tip my chin at Remi. “Get your ass over here and play a round of beer pong with us.”

Before I can stop myself, my gaze shifts to Hollis, who’s standing beside him with a cocky smirk tugging on his lips.

The same lips that were wrapped around my cock.

Fuck, knock it off! Stop thinking about it.

“Yeah, Cap, get your fine ass over here,” he drawls tauntingly. “You’re my partner tonight.”

“I’m not playin’.” I stand and finish off what’s left of my beer before walking over to the cooler to get a new one.

“Oh yes, you are,” Remi pushes. “Quit being a fuddy duddy and have a little fun for once.”

Clenching my jaw, I begrudgingly walk over to the table.

Chandler is on one side with Remi, while Hollis is on the other.

The cups are set up, and after Hollis wins the eye-to-eye shot, we go first. I’m used to this, playing ridiculous college drinking games.

My team somehow manages to talk me into it every single year.

But standing here now, beside Hollis, after what happened between us, feels suffocating.

It feels like everybody knows. And hell, maybe they do.

Hollis isn’t exactly one to be quiet about his conquests , but the idea of my team knowing something so personal—and confusing—is enough to make me want to crawl out of my own skin.

Given that nobody has said a word to me about it, or been acting weird today, I’m hoping that means he’s kept his mouth shut.

For the most part, Hollis and I remain in the lead; he’s oddly good at this game, but Remi and Chandler sink a couple balls back-to-back. Nudging my arm, Hollis says, “Drink up, Cap.”

“What?” My brows pinch. “Why me? I drank last time.”

“Because them’s the rules,” he drawls, his chocolate brown eyes flicking to mine. My body heats.

“Since when?” I scoff before downing a mouthful of lukewarm beer.

“Since I made them up.” Hollis winks before taking a swig from his own can. “Anybody ever told you that you could benefit from lightening up a bit?”

“I don’t know,” I deadpan. “Anybody ever tell you that you’re a pain in the ass?”

He chuckles, and before he even says a word, I already regret my choice of words. “A time or two,” he offers. Biting down on his lip, Hollis drags his gaze over the length of my body before adding, “No complaints yet.”

“Alright, knock it off,” Remi cuts in. Eyes narrowed, his finger points toward his best friend as his lip twitches with a smile he’s trying to hold back. “Back to the game.”

Hollis and I end up winning this round, but then we switch and play another round, this time with Chandler as my partner.

We kick their asses, and I won’t lie… It’s a little more exciting than it should be, beating Hollis at such an immature, mindless game.

Once we get the table cleared off and the fire out, we all head to our separate tents.

As I lie down on my air mattress, I breathe out a sigh of relief that Hollis didn’t try to pull anything.

A good night’s sleep is probably exactly what I need.

The last month, or however long it’s been since he and I matched on the app, has been one long fever dream. One where I lost all sense of rational.

But I’m thinking clearly now.

It was a slip.

A moment of weakness.

I’m in the middle of a divorce from a marriage I was in for far too long.

A marriage where I didn’t feel appreciated, or seen, or even wanted…

It’s not surprising that I would seek something out from somebody like Hollis.

There’s no denying ho w seen or wanted I was last night, but that doesn’t mean it can happen again. He must know that…

Clearly, I spoke too soon, though. My attention jerks to the front of my tent as I hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. Then the sound of the zipper opening.

Fuck.

“No,” I grit out quietly as his tall frame steps into the small space.

Breathing out a small chuckle, Hollis closes the tent before crawling onto the air mattress beside me. His scent fills the area, and it makes my head swim. Goddamnit, pull yourself together, Ford.

“No what?” he asks, his voice raspy and no more than a whisper.

“This is not happenin’ again, Hollis.”

“What’s not happenin’?” It may be dark in here, but I don’t miss the flirty grin on his face as he lies down on his side and rests his head in his hand. “Maybe I just wanted to talk.”

“Talk.” I huff. “Right. I’m sure that’s exactly what you wanted to do.”

“Gosh, somebody’s mind’s in the gutter,” he teases. “Tell me, Cap… How many times today have you thought about me on my knees for you?”

“None,” I lie through a tensed jaw. “Because I’m not some teenage boy incapable of controllin’ myself.”

“If that’s what you wanna go with,” he murmurs under his breath.

The air in here evaporates. My heart’s beating so fast, I’m certain Hollis can hear it. My senses are overwhelmed by him, and as the minutes pass, I’m forgetting why him being in here is such a bad idea .

“I gotta say…” he continues. “I’m a little surprised by how you’re actin’.”

My brows furrow. “Why? Because you think that highly of yourself that you can’t fathom the idea of somebody not bein’ interested in you?”

His laugh rolls through me like an electric shock, sending a wave of goosebumps all over my body and causing my dick to throb. “No, it’s not that at all.”

“Then what?”