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19

Holland

T he first thing that hits me when I wake is the warmth.

The second is the hard, steady rise and fall beneath me, like I’m lying against a solid, living, breathing furnace. My brain is still foggy with sleep, and it takes a moment to play mental catch up and for the details to sharpen. There are strong arms wrapped around me, a hand resting possessively on my hip, and the faint scent of soap and something that is inherently him.

My eyes snap open to find Bridger Sanderson flat on his back, his annoyingly perfect jawline relaxed in sleep while I’m sprawled across his chest.

I should move before he wakes up.

Instead, I remain perfectly still.

As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve never felt so safe.

Safe in a way I can’t explain.

Safe in a way I haven’t allowed myself to feel in years.

Not since the last time I let my guard down with this guy and got burned for it.

But in the sliver of dawn where the world doesn’t feel so sharp, I let myself indulge in the comfort I’ve found in his arms. My hand slides up his chest, fingers tracing the hard lines of muscle and the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath them.

It’s ridiculously soothing.

My fingers drift lower, brushing along the edge of his ribs, and?—

“Enjoying yourself?”

His voice is gravelly, still thick with sleep, and I jerk my hand back, as if burned.

“Maybe.” The response shoots out of my mouth before I can stuff it back inside.

Bridger stretches lazily, his arms extending above his head, and the movement makes his abs ripple.

I should look away but can’t bring myself to do it.

His voice dips, growing even deeper. “Interesting. Go on.”

I glance up at him and search his eyes. His mouth is closer than I realized. “What if we extended our truce? Maybe considered a ceasefire for the time being?”

He stills. “What exactly would that entail?”

The muscles of my belly spasm as thoughts circle through my brain. When I remain silent, unsure how to respond, he rolls us over until he’s fully stretched out on top of me.

A gasp works its way free from me as his hard length nestles against the V between my thighs. That’s all it takes for arousal to pool in my core. It’s been so long since I’ve felt desire like this burn through my body. I don’t realize that I’ve widened my legs until the blunt tip of his cock presses insistently against my center.

“Huh, Holland? What are you suggesting?”

He slides his erection against me, and every thought flies out of my head. It’s impossible to think straight when he does that. The silveriness of his eyes deepens as he repeats the movement. A smirk curves his lips, as if he knows exactly how much he’s able to affect me with the simple caress.

“That we…”

Another stroke.

When my voice trails off, he hikes a brow. “That we what?”

I stifle a groan as my teeth sink into my lower lip. His gaze drops to the movement as he holds himself steady. His biceps bulge as he cages me in. It’s like the outside world, and maybe even our past, melts away into nothingness.

All I’m cognizant of is him.

And the moment we’re teetering dangerously on.

It feels as sharp as a razor’s edge.

He presses his pelvis against mine, and the pressure building in my core turns explosive.

“I can’t think when you do that,” I blurt in frustration.

“Is that such a terrible thing?”

Good question.

“I’m not sure,” I say on another shuddering breath. It seems ridiculous that he’s turned me on to this degree while barely touching me.

“Pretty sure thinking’s overrated, you know?”

I blink as the comment echoes in my brain. It sounds strangely familiar. A different conversation maybe? It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what he means when he shifts his hips and his hard cock slides across my soaked shorts.

The pleasure is dizzying.

“So, about that ceasefire…”

As much as I want to blot out the past and start fresh, I’m not sure if it’s that simple. There’s a question that needs to be answered before we can move forward.

“Do you still believe I’m involved with the messages?”

He stills, and air leaks slowly from his lungs. “I’m not sure.” There’s a pause as he searches my eyes. “I really hope not.”

I swallow down my disappointment and jerk my head into a nod. Before I can say anything, he rolls onto his back until I find myself stretched out on top of him. His morning wood is still nestled between my legs. When I wiggle, the head of his cock bumps my clit, sending my body into overdrive.

A whimper works its way up my throat as his fingers strum my sides before sliding past my waist until he’s able to palm my ass cheeks.

If I were smart, I’d put an end to this.

“I suppose we could cuddle at night,” I finally say.

“I’d be okay with that.”

“Just okay?”

He presses me closer before flexing his hips. “Maybe a little more than okay.”

The sensation reverberates throughout my entire being. It’s almost a shock when my muscles tighten, clamping around nothingness. My brain clicks off, and I can’t help but shift against him, chasing the delicious feeling.

His fingers dig into my flesh to keep me anchored in place.

“How close are you to coming?”

I’m almost ashamed to admit the way I’m tap dancing on the edge. It wouldn’t take much to shove me over the precipice.

“Close.” My eyelids feather shut.

“Eyes open, Holland. When you orgasm, I want you to see exactly who’s getting you off.”

Even though it feels like my eyelids weigh a thousand pounds, I force them open and hold his gaze. One long stroke upward is all it takes to make me shatter into a million pieces.

A muscle in his jaw tics as our gazes stay locked the entire time I moan out my orgasm. I masturbate regularly. The last thing I’m going to do is leave my pleasure in the hands of a man. If I’m horny or stressed, my trusty vibe always does the trick.

But this?

It’s not even in the same ballpark.

It’s so much bigger.

Brighter.

Like a burst of colorful fireworks that steals your breath away and holds it captive. He continues to grind against me the entire time until every last spasm has been wrung from my body.

I bury my face in his chest, feeling more exposed than I’m used to. What I’m most afraid of is that I’ll find a smirk lifting his lips, followed up by enough gloating to make me regret everything that just happened. Only two nights spent in his bed, and I’ve already folded like a cheap house of cards.

It’s demoralizing.

I thought I was better than this.

Stronger.

Turns out, I was wrong.

“Hey.” His fingers slip beneath my chin to lift it. “Look at me.”

I force myself to meet his gaze. Shock slides through me at the sincerity etched across every line of his face.

“Truce, right? Maybe we haven’t hammered out the finer points, but I think this was a good start, don’t you?”

I nibble my lip, surprised by how much I want to believe him. “Yeah.”

It’s only when his other hand squeezes the rounded curve of my ass that I realize it’s still there, gripping me possessively.

“We should probably get moving. I’ve got class in thirty. Not that I’ve been stalking your schedule, but you do too, right?”

“Yup.” I roll off him and onto my back, not needing to be told twice.

He raises himself up on one elbow to stare down at me. “Our game is tonight. You’ll be there, right?”

It’s tempting to tell him that I won’t be able to make it. After what just happened between us, a little distance would do me some good. It would give me a chance to fortify my walls again. I don’t like how quickly he was able to break them down.

“Yeah.” I almost wince as the word slips free.

“And you’ll wear the jersey?”

“It would be rude if I didn’t after you bought it for me,” I mumble as my cheeks heat under the intensity of his stare.

His expression relaxes as the corners of his lips quirk. “When have you ever been worried about being rude?”

I can’t help but snort.

He’s got me there.

Before I can come up with a snappy retort, he leans closer and brushes his lips across mine. Our gazes stay fastened until he pulls away and rises from the bed with a lazy stretch. It’s only then that I notice the massive boner he’s sporting.

Damn.

A thick shiver slides through me as I remember how good the stroke of his hard length felt. It takes a moment to realize that while I got off, he didn’t.

After giving me a delicious orgasm, he asked for nothing in return.

“Am I free to go, or would you like to keep staring?” His tone drops, turning husky. “Because I certainly don’t mind you eating me up with your eyes. In fact, I kind of like it.”

I clear my throat. “Need a hand with that?”

“As tempting as the offer is, I don’t think we have time. You stroking my cock isn’t something I want to rush.” He nods toward the door. “I’ll take care of it in the shower.”

My brows rise, and even though I just came, the mental image of Bridger stroking his hard length turns me on all over again.

There’s no doubt about it, dropping my guard was a bad idea. And if I’m not careful, it’s going to lead to problems.

If it hasn’t already.

“Okay.”

He pauses. “Can I take a rain check?”

I shrug, needing to shake off the disappointment that has settled over me. It doesn’t make a damn bit of sense why I would feel this way. “We’ll see.”

A chuckle slips free from him as he steps into the hallway, leaving me alone in his room. I collapse against the pillows and stare at the ceiling, wondering exactly how I ended up in Bridger Sanderson’s bed.

Even harder to believe… I just might be enjoying it.