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22

Bridger

E ven when the water scalds my skin, I don’t bother adjusting the temperature. I let the hot spray pound against my shoulders before turning so it can do the same to my chest. With any luck, it’ll wash away the sting of Dick’s words. My jaw aches from being so tightly clenched, and my lungs burn, like I’m still holding my breath, waiting for the world around me to explode.

Then there’s Holland.

I press my forehead against the cool tile and squeeze my eyes closed. Of all the people who could have witnessed that train wreck, it had to be her.

The girl I can’t stop thinking about.

The one who ignites my temper.

The one I can’t bring myself to trust.

She saw something I would have preferred to keep hidden away in the dark, and she didn’t flinch.

Another wave of embarrassment rolls through me, sharp and unforgiving.

Holland already thinks I’m an asshole. Tonight she discovered that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

And yet, she stayed.

My feelings for her have always been complicated.

A tangled mess.

I used to tell myself it was nothing more than the hum of attraction, but it’s not that simple.

Not with Holland.

She’s a problem without a solution.

I’m startled out of those thoughts when a curvy body brushes against mine from behind and hands stroke their way across my pecs.

“What are you doing in here?” I croak.

“I thought that would be obvious.” There’s a beat of silence. “I’m helping you clean up.”

For just a second or two, the warmth pressed against my back disappears, and with the steam filling the room, I almost wonder if I hallucinated that she was here with me.

Touching me the way I’ve dreamed of for two years.

She returns before rubbing soapy hands up and down my back with measured movements.

Fuck.

Her touch feels so damn good.

No. It’s way better than that.

It’s the exact balm I need.

All the tension from the game and the confrontation with my father gradually dissolves, leaving a clawing need in its place. No one has ever turned me on the way this girl does.

She sparks something deep inside me.

If I’m being completely honest with myself, it’s what scares me most about her.

I can’t help but lean into her touch, my body betraying me even as my mind screams for me to pull away and put some distance between us. Her fingers trace the sculpted lines of my muscles. Her touch sends shivers cascading down my spine despite the scalding water.

“Holland,” I groan, my voice barely audible over the pounding spray. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Shh,” she murmurs, her lips sweeping over my shoulder blade. “Let me take care of you.”

I want to protest, to push her away and maintain the walls I’ve carefully erected around myself where she’s concerned, but the brush of her skin against mine is intoxicating.

Her hands glide downward, fingertips grazing my ass. She soaps the taut muscles before dropping down and running her hands along the backs of my thighs and calves. A groan rumbles up from my chest before echoing off the tile.

I’ve never been taken care of this way.

She straightens, wrapping her arms around my rib cage and pressing a kiss against my spine. Her fingers strum the ridges of my abdomen before sinking to my groin. My breath catches as one hand wraps around my shaft. I’m hard as steel. Her grip tightens as she strokes my cock from the tip to the root and then back again. She repeats the movement until my balls tighten, drawing up against my body.

I sink my teeth into my lower lip, suppressing the sound building in my throat. This girl already has me in the palm of her hand in more ways than one. And there’s a part of me that’s cautious about dropping the last of my barriers.

No matter how fragile they might be.

I’m still not sure if she’s telling me the truth.

Or if I can trust her.

Just when I think I might explode, her touch disappears. Air rushes from my lungs when she cups my balls before massaging them. My head tips back. This time, keeping the pleasure trapped inside is impossible, and a long groan breaks loose from me.

She presses another kiss against my skin. “Do you like that?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Mmmm. You’re so long and thick.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Maybe.” Her teeth scrape against my shoulder. “I might have thought about you once or twice after we had sex.”

“You want the truth?” The question is out of my mouth before I can stop it.

She continues to squeeze and release my soft flesh. “The truth is the only thing I want from you.”

“I might have thought about it more than once or twice.” Even that’s a lie. I thought about her way more than that. I’ve had a difficult time staying away.

I turn in her arms until I can drink in the sight of her wet hair clinging to her face. She’s so damn beautiful.

Sexy.

The way her eyes have darkened with arousal only intensifies my own desire.

For a long moment, we stare at each other as the air crackles with electricity.

Her hand rises to cup my cheek as her thumb traces my jawline. The tenderness of her touch is my undoing, and I lean in, capturing her lips with my own in a desperate, hungry kiss.

She responds instantly, pressing her naked body flush against mine as her arms wind around my neck and pull me closer. I groan into her mouth as my hands roam down her sides to grip her hips. The kiss deepens and our tongues tangle as two years of pent-up longing and frustration pour out of me.

Everything else falls away. The embarrassment of how I played tonight, my father and what Holland witnessed, along with the reasons I’ve been careful to keep her at arm’s length.

There’s only her soft skin and eager mouth.

She breaks away to nip at my lips and then chin before trailing down the column of my neck, licking and sucking her way along my chest until arriving at my nipple. Her tongue darts out to stroke over the little nub until it stiffens beneath her touch. The scrape of her teeth sets off every nerve ending in my body, making me feel more alive than ever before. She turns her attention to the other one before sliding lower. Her vibrant green eyes spark with a life all their own as they stay fastened to mine and she drops to her knees.

My erection bobs inches from her pouty lips.

“You don’t have to do this,” I force myself to say.

She leans in, pressing a kiss against the tip. “I want to,” she murmurs, her breath hot against my sensitive skin. “Let me make you feel good.”

Before I can offer up one last protest, she takes me into her mouth, and a delicious warmth surrounds me. The velvety softness of her tongue swirls around me, drawing me in deeper until I nudge the back of her throat.

Already, I’m close.

My hands find their way into her wet hair, not guiding, just needing something to hold on to as pleasure floods my system.

Holland slides up and down my shaft with expert precision, her tongue swirling around the head before taking me even deeper. As tempting as it is to close my eyes and enjoy the sweet torment, I can’t bring myself to look away from the expression on her face as her eyes hold mine captive. The way she looks as her cheeks hollow and water runs down her face is so damn erotic.

The sight is almost enough to make me come on the spot.

What I love most is that she’s not tiny and waif-like.

Holland is strong and sexy.

Her confidence on stage turns me on so much.

“Fuck,” I groan, my fingers tightening in her hair.

She hums in response. The vibrations send shockwaves of pleasure through my body. Her hand caresses what she can’t fit in her mouth, twisting on the upstroke in a way that has my toes curling against the shower floor.

She must sense how close I am, because she doubles her efforts, bobbing her head faster as her free hand cups my balls. The coil of tension in my lower abdomen tightens as my release continues to build. When I try to warn her to pull away, she grips my hips firmly to keep me in place.

“Holland, I’m gonna—” I rasp, my voice strained.

She looks up at me through spiky lashes, her eyes dark with intensity. The sight of her, combined with the relentless suction of her mouth, pushes me over the edge. I come with a strangled cry, my body shuddering as waves of pleasure crash over me. The thought of her taking my release deep inside only makes my orgasm more powerful.

Holland swallows down every drop I give her, continuing to work me gently with her tongue until I’m spent. Only then does she press a kiss against my softening cock before rising to her feet.

I pull her against me, claiming her mouth in a searing kiss. The fact that I can taste myself on her tongue only fuels the fire burning inside me.

I pull away long enough to murmur, “That was?—”

“Pretty fucking fantastic?”

I snort out a laugh as the edges of my lips curl. “Sure, we can go with that.”

Humor dances in her sparkling eyes.

I like it.

More than that…

I like her .

That thought is all it takes to break down the last of my barriers.