Page 6 of Infinite as They Come (Sinful Trilogy #3)

Sawyer

The internet could not be fucking trusted.

The house looked good enough online. Small, a little run down but nothing I couldn’t fix, and just the right size for me and Holly.

That house looked like heaven, really. The one standing in front of me was so far from the photos I had wondered if I had straight up gone to the wrong address.

But nope. This was the place. This was the home.

This was a complete fucking disaster and the opposite of everything I wanted to give my girl.

The porch had half the floorboards missing and the railing was gone and the chimney looked borderline destroyed with almost all of the bricks gone, and the ones that remained looked damaged beyond repair.

When I moved around the back, all I saw was brittle land.

Withered and ruined, too dry for any life to grow.

No flowers, no grass. No lemon tree . And Holly really loved that damn lemon tree…

It had taken me over an hour to drive out to Leesville. The further I went, the louder it got. It was supposed to be quiet and peaceful—the words Holly had used earlier. But the dirt road at the front had about a million trucks zooming up and down it. You could hear them from the backyard.

I was pulled from my thoughts when my phone went off in my hand. Sticking my hand into my pocket, I yanked it out without looking at the number.

“Hello?” I answered, and in a second flat, they hung up. My eyes rolled and I shoved my phone back into my pocket, rubbing my hands over my face as I stood there in the piercing sun. Part of me had been hoping I’d find the home with ease, that there wouldn’t be too much hunting, too much stress.

I groaned. My life for the last three years had consisted of saving, saving, and more saving.

Holly could buy that perfect house like it was nothing.

She could buy one in every city in every state and have more than enough cash left over, but I had to be smart with my money.

Every shift at work had been for her. The aches, the tiredness, the strain.

Every bit of pain was worth it if it meant I got to give her the home we’d spend the rest of our lives in.

I’d find it. And it’d be perfect too. I wouldn’t let her dream home be some okay version.

No. I would cross every T, dot every I, and give her one that she’d love.

“It’s what we call a fixer upper!”

I turned to see Mandy—the very loud, very blonde, very excited realtor I had talked to online. She clasped her clipboard to her chest, her smile all big as she tried to soften the blow.

“I’m sorry the house doesn’t look like the photos,” she said. “I know this—” A truck’s loud, obnoxious horn went off in the background, cutting her off before she exhaled sharply. “I’ll find something for you and your wife. I promise I will.”

“She’s my girlfriend,” I said, but your wife sounded really good, like it made complete and utter sense and rolled right off the tongue, and I suddenly wanted to hear more people call Holly my wife. “And thanks.”

I said goodbye to Mandy and made the hour drive back to the motel, picking up that chicken for me and Holly to eat for dinner along the way.

Hopefully she hadn’t gotten too bored waiting around for me.

That thought just made me want to get back to the motel faster, and when I did and pushed open the door, the first thing I heard was the sound of the shower in the background.

“Is that you?” Holly called out.

“Nah, it’s someone else,” I said, kicking my shoes off and taking a seat in the chair by the window.

“Scary!” she said .

A low laugh left my lips as I put the bag of food on the little table, and I realized then that I instantly felt all that stress of the afternoon wash away.

Most of it, anyway. Holly had a way of calming me down.

Of making me feel grounded and centered, and some days, all it took was that sweet, soft voice of hers.

That need to find that home for her and us was still sitting there heavy at the back of my mind.

It wouldn’t go away until I had those keys in my hands and I was standing with Holly inside that building, but now that I was back with her, hearing her voice, that scent of her perfume lingering in the room, I could relax.

For tonight, with my girl, I could feel at ease.

I heard some noise to my right and looked over to see Holly.

She was stepping out of the bathroom, a white towel wrapped around her body as she gripped the neck.

Her golden skin was glistening with droplets of water as she took a few more steps into the room, her eyes brightening a little as we stared at each other.

“It is you,” she said. “Lucky me.”

No, lucky me, because as she dove through one of her bags all I could think about was how damn good she looked while doing something so casual.

It was impossible not to stare at her. I could see her curves even through the towel: those rounded hips and the dip of her waist and the way the material strained against her chest. It was probably some cheap dollar store towel, and the fact that she was using it when she had those fancy Egyptian cotton ones or whatever the hell they were at home made me stare at her even more, my eyes dragging up and down her body.

She pulled something out of her bag, all flimsy and lacey and pink, before peering over her shoulder at me. Maybe she felt my eyes on her.

“What?” she asked, a shy smile spreading across her lips.

My head shook slowly. She always looked beautiful.

Like a goddamn dream come to life. Those Bambi eyes and her long lashes.

Long, silky hair. Perfect bronzed skin. How lucky was I that I got to see her and feel her and hold her?

That she wasn’t just in my head? That she wasn’t just real, but all mine as well?

“What is it?” she asked, that shy smile still there on her face .

My head tilted, taking all of her in. Every inch. “It’s been so long since I last painted you, baby.”

Teeth biting into her bottom lip, she held the towel against her a little tighter. “It’s been, like, two weeks.”

I had painted her a million times, had seen her naked so many times I lost track, but she still managed to get all shy on me sometimes. So fucking cute.

“Exactly,” I said. “Such a long time.”

“So, what, you wanna paint me like this?” she asked softly. “In my towel?”

“Well…” My eyes lowered for a second, to her smooth thighs where the edge of the towel stopped. “You could always take it off.”

Those cheeks somehow got even redder. “You’ve never painted me… like that.”

“I know, baby,” I said. “I won’t make you do it if you don’t wanna.”

“I… I don’t mind,” she whispered. “You know I trust you, Sawyer. What do you want me to do?”

Humming, I stood up and laid my hands against her waist, guiding her backwards, moving her closer and closer to the bed. “You could keep the towel on. Or take it off. Up to you.”

Her fingers toyed with the top of the towel, giving me a little nod. “I’ll take it off,” she said softly. Tucking her thumbs into the towel, she gave it the softest of pulls, letting it hit the floor with a little thud.

My palm rested against her cheek, my fingers holding her in place as I pressed my lips to hers.

It was a gentle kiss, soft and slow, because there was nothing I hated more than rushing things with Holly.

I loved taking my time with her and feeling every last part of her, focusing on all the little details.

The way her eyes would flutter closed, or how she’d whimper out my name, or how her fingers always clawed at my hair as she tried to tug me in closer.

That was one of my favorites. How she’d pull at my strands tight, especially when she was close to the edge, like she needed something to hold to keep her from falling apart.

The little moan she let out had me groaning, my other hand lowering to the small of her back to push her against me.

Her body was still a little wet, her fingers damp as they moved through my hair, stroking through my locks.

I was getting too excited, so I pulled away from her, watching as her eyes slowly opened up.

“Lie down for me, princess,” I said, giving her a quick, soft kiss. “Use the sheet if you’re feeling shy.”

She nodded and sat at the edge of the bed and I finally got a chance to look at her properly.

Flushed cheeks. Thighs pressed together.

Round tits and perfect brown nipples that I had to resist the urge to lean down and take into my mouth and suck and lick.

She scooted back more and more until she was at the center of the bed, turning a little so that she was resting on her side.

Stretching a hand out, she grabbed one of the pillows, cuddling it tight to her as she rested against it, a single pretty nipple on show.

One of her hands grabbed at the sheet, letting it drape against her round hips.

“Like this?” she asked, her lashes all dark and long as she batted her eyes my way. So sweet, so innocent. As if I had never seen her like that before.

“Yeah, honey, like that,” I said, voice suddenly a little too rough. Christ, maybe this was a bad idea. “Whatever feels comfortable. Let me get everything ready.”