Page 26 of Reece & Holden (Gomillion High Reunion #6)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Reece

The last couple of days have been fun but at the same time difficult.

I wasn’t lying to Holden when I said I’d miss him.

I’m glad I’ve been out of the state, or I wouldn't have been able to keep away from him. Going with Marina and mom on a trip to Tennessee has been good to keep me occupied, but my mind—and if I’m honest, my heart—have been back in Gomillion.

I also meant it when I said we’ll be great together, I just hope he can see his own worth, but if not, I’m ready to convince him.

I’ve also been tentatively planning for the long term.

I’m not going to give up Holden now that I’ve found him, and while I don’t love the thought of relocating back to the US, I have been thinking about some possibilities.

At some point I need to talk to Nolan, and I don’t think there’d be a huge problem making some changes, but I need to talk to Holden first. However, we aren’t there yet despite what my heart tells me, so I’m trying to be patient.

I get back on Monday, and thankfully I’m tired from all the walking we’ve been doing, so I sleep well.

But I’m on edge throughout Tuesday. I’m not nervous about the date as such, but worried about how Holden is.

We’ve texted each other, but they’ve been brief, and I couldn’t tell a lot from them.

I know Clara’s been with him, which I like as she’s a great friend, but she’s also not my biggest supporter so I’m extra cautious as I knock on his door clutching a large bunch of flowers.

“Hi,” he says, looking slightly apprehensive.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I say and he relaxes. A smile breaks out on his face and I know everything’s going to be okay.

“These are for you.” I hand him the flowers and he steps back to let me enter. He looks delicious in black linen pants and a gray-blue T-shirt. His feet are bare. I toe my shoes off and follow him into the kitchen. He finds a vase for the flowers and arranges them.

“Thank you, they’re pretty.”

“Not nearly as pretty as you. I’ve missed you so much,” I say, and his smile is all the permission I need. I cup his jaw and brush my thumb over his lips. I feel him shiver at my caress and I want to see what else my touch can do to him.

“I’ve missed you too,” he says and leans in to kiss me. The effect is electric, and my head feels light as all my blood rushes south. I’m done going slow, waiting to figure out if this is about us. I know it is. Like a plant needs the rain after a drought, my body needs him.

He slides his hand down to my ass and pulls me into him, and I can feel his hardness against my own erection. He wants this as much as I do, and that makes my blood pound in my ears.

“Fuck, Holden, you’re so hot,” I groan, and the delighted giggle he gives just makes me harder, and I grind into him.

“Dinner first,” he says, and steps away leaving me bereft and needy. I adjust myself in my jeans, wishing that I’d worn some looser pants.

“That was cruel. Do you tease all your guests like that?”

“Only the ones I’m attracted to.”

I like Holden in all his guises, but I particularly enjoy the sassy version, partly because he always looks so happy and that fills me with joy.

“Well, because it smells so wonderful, I’ll obey. Can I do anything to help?”

“Can you grab a couple of beers out of the fridge?”

“You want a beer?” I’m surprised as he said he doesn't drink and I’ve seen the effects of alcohol on his system.

“I actually like beer, and one or two is fine. I just can’t drink wine or liquor.”

That’s good to know, though I wouldn’t have minded not drinking if it suited him.

I fetch a couple of bottles and Holden puts two glasses on the counter for me to pour.

“Please take a seat,” he says and I carry the beers to the table and sit.

The placemats are made of a sort of tough cotton depicting scenes of mountains, and I run my fingers over one of them, tracing the picture. They don’t feel woven, more knitted.

“Did you make these?” I call across the kitchen.

“I did a few years ago,” he replies.

“Have you ever considered selling what you make in your store or at a craft market?”

He looks thoughtful for a minute. “Not really. I’d never make a living from it, so what would be the point?”

“Not to replace your store, but so other people could enjoy your creations. Or if you were feeling particularly benevolent, you could sell some to fundraise for charities. It’s what my mom does with her quilts.”

“Oh, does she? I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll think about it,” he says, bringing a dish over and placing it on the table. It’s lasagna, and it smells delicious.

“Pasta’s my favorite,” I say as he puts down a bowl of salad and slides into his seat. He gives me a smile like he already knew that fact. A way to a man’s heart and all that, except he already has mine.

I help myself to some lasagna and take a bite.

“Oh my, that is delicious!” I exclaim. “How is it that you can cook so well when you barely eat?”

He shrugs. “I do eat when I need to, but I don’t really care to cook for one. But yes, I can cook. My mom taught me.”

“It's amazing,” I say, taking another forkful. “How are your parents?”

He tells me that they’re well, doing fine in their retirement house, and then just casually drops in, “They want to meet you.”

”You told them about me?” I put down my fork so I can take a gulp of my beer.

“Of course I did,” he says, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I love that he now seems to believe we’re serious enough to be able to tell his parents. But still, the thought fills me with some dread.

“They’ve invited you to family dinner on Sunday.”

“Oh!” I was probably about twelve the last time I saw them. I take another drink of my beer.

“But if you'd rather not . . .” Holden trails off when I don't answer.

“No, I mean yes. I’d love to, I just don’t know . . . Actually, I’m nervous I guess,” I admit with a sheepish grin.

“Of my parents?” he laughs. “They’ll love you.

” I guess they don’t know the whole truth, then, and I’m glad of it as it’s not a subject I want to explain to his parents.

While we finish up eating, we talk about a few of the people we met at the reunion, some of whom we both remember.

I help to clear the table and offer to wash the dishes.

“No, you’re my guest. Go through to the living room and relax. I’ll bring you a coffee in a minute.”

I don’t relax, not in the way he meant it by sitting on the couch.

Instead I wander around his room, getting a sense of Holden at home.

I peruse his books and look at the couple of photographs he has up of him and his parents.

I can see his creativity everywhere . . .

cushions and throws, even some art on the wall.

Though there are also paintings, mostly landscapes, which seems like a theme.

Holden may have indoor hobbies but a lot of what he creates has a sense of the outdoors.

A question I ask him when he appears and joins me bearing two mugs of coffee.

“Do you like the wilderness?” I’m standing in front of a watercolor of some mountains.

“I love it.” He stands next to me and passes me a mug.

“To be in it?” I take a sip of my coffee.

“When I can, not that I get much of a chance.” Then he gives me a look. “You don’t think I’m the outdoorsy type, do you?”

“I never said that,” I protest

“You were thinking it, though. I could practically hear your thoughts.”

“Kind of,” I admit. “But I like that because I do too, though it’s been a long time since I’ve been hiking.”

“Then we should do it together sometime.” He smiles and looks happy, his eyes shining with the promise of a future adventure. He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

I put down my coffee and take his mug off him too. I place my hands on each side of his head and press a soft kiss on his lips, then I look into his eyes the color of emeralds and whisper, “I’ve had my dinner, now I want dessert.”

He licks his lips and I need to taste them too, so I lean in and take his bottom lip between mine. The tiny gasp he gives acts like rocket fuel to my desire.

”I need you.” He takes my hand, all but dragging me upstairs to his bedroom.

I’m torn between wanting to devour him quickly and wanting to take my time, but it’s Holden who decides that one by claiming my mouth as soon as I’m through the door.

His hands deftly find my buttons and he tugs my shirt off.

I pull his tee up and disconnect our mouths just long enough for me to drag it over his head.

The rest of our clothes land on the floor shortly after.

All the while we manage to mostly keep our mouths together.

I walk him to his bed and he lies down. I pause, mostly to suck some air back into my lungs.

“Where . . .” I start, and he points to his nightstand.

“Top drawer.” I reach over and grab some lube and condoms.

“I did some prep before you arrived.”

“You did?” I ask and he nods. The thought of him getting himself ready has my cock leaking precum.

“Did you think of me?” My voice is husky.

“Of course.”

“Fuck, Holden, the only thing hotter than the thought of you lying here with your fingers in your ass and thinking of me is to see you doing it. Can I watch you next time, baby?”

His eyes darken and he smiles. I got my answer. I cover his body with mine and kiss him deeply, then I run my fingers through the hair on his chest, something I’ve longed to do since I saw his chest at the motel.

“This is perfect,” I say and he gives a contented sigh.

My cock aches and I can’t wait any longer.

I need to feel him around me. I kneel between his legs and reach for the lube.

He draws his knees up and I trace round his hole with a lube-coated finger.

He wrinkles his nose in impatience even though I can feel his body responding to me.

“One day I’m going to tease you so much you’re going to be begging for my dick.”

“I’m begging you now,” he snaps. “That’s why I got ready.

” I laugh at him and slide my finger in easily.

After a couple of thrusts I add a second finger—he’s right, he did prep.

I add a third and twist them a few times before withdrawing.

I waste no time tearing open a condom packet and sheathing my dick, adding a coating of lube.

I line up and slowly sink into him, enjoying the pressure of him gripping me as I bottom out.

“You good?” I check in with him and he nods. I start moving, rocking my hips. He feels so good and I pick up the pace as he throws his head back and groans, which spurs me on faster.

“Harder,” he groans and grabs the headboard behind him. He pulls his knees up and I hold them wide, opening him up further while I slam into him.

“Oh god,” he pants as I hit his prostate. I shift my hips so I can nail it again and again. He gazes up at me, pupils blown, and his lips bruised from all the kissing. He looks undone and the sexiest sight I’ve ever seen.

“You’re mine. All mine,” I growl with each thrust, and I catch his throaty yes, which pushes me on harder, his cock bouncing between us. My balls tighten . . . I’m not going to last much longer.

”Can you come for me, baby?” I croon, and he gives me a low moan as I slam into him a couple more times.

Suddenly he arches off the bed and cries out, coming untouched, spurting all over his chest. I keep thrusting, fucking into him through his orgasm.

His hole grips me tighter, and pulls my own release from me as wave after wave hits me, and I can't stop until I’m completely spent.

I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard before, but then, I’ve never had to wait twenty years.

I slide out of him and he stretches his legs out as he lets go of the headboard.

I lie next to him and pull him into my arms. We can clean up in a minute, but for now I just want to hold him.

He settles into me, fitting against me like he was made to be there.

I breathe him in deeply, and the usual scent of him mixed with the smell of our lovemaking is a heady mix.

I nuzzle into his hair. “That was perfect, baby.”