Page 24

24

Holt

There was one right answer after I disposed of the spider.

It’s good night, Ziggy, I’ll see you in the morning .

That was the right answer.

But the wrong answer, kissing her, touching her, was the only answer.

I’m fired.

I am so fired when her stepfather finds out.

And I don’t fucking care.

Not when those wide blue eyes and that smile are telling me I hold the key to her happiness. Not when she’s using every bit of her being to communicate that she trusts me. When she’s showing me with the way she kisses me and touches me that she likes me.

When she’s fucking delicious and so responsive and so vulnerable all at the same time.

Fuck tomorrow. Fuck being fired .

I want this woman.

End of story.

That’s all I’m thinking about as I lift her up to carry her out of the bathroom.

After she shrieks, she wraps her arms around my neck and presses her lips to my neck again. “Holt, your foot?—”

Hurts like a bitch as I put weight on it for the first time in weeks, and I’m limping as I carry her out of the bathroom, but ask me if I care. I have Ziggy in my arms and a raging erection. The foot will be fine. “What foot? I don’t have feet.”

Ziggy snort-giggles. “If you hurt yourself?—”

“Can’t hear you over the beauty of your naked body.”

Jessica snorts at me—some guard dog, letting us battle a spider on our own—but she doesn’t get up out of her doggie bed and she doesn’t try to stop me from manhandling her favorite person.

Smart dog.

She’d find out what a doghouse is if she tried.

Ziggy’s fingers brush the back of my neck, and she nestles closer in my arms.

My dick aches. My balls are so tight they’re on fire. I can still taste her on my tongue, and I fucking love it.

She licks my jawline. Considering how hard and ready and desperate I am after tasting her pussy, the feel of her tongue on my face makes me nearly cross-eyed.

I want this woman.

I want her in my bed. I want her in my house. I want her in my life.

Her and her baby.

The dog. With another dog who likes me.

Family .

She doesn’t ask where we’re going as I carry her across the hall to my room. Doesn’t object when I settle her in the center of my bed amongst the twisted sheets.

Not Ziggy.

No, she’s cradling my face again and kissing me before I can get into bed myself.

I crawl onto the mattress, the fucking boot catching on the edge.

“Your foot—okay?” she says between kisses.

I grunt in response and capture her mouth so she can’t ask any more questions.

I love kissing this woman. Her eager tongue, her possessive hands, the little noises she makes when I stroke her ass—there’s no chance in hell this is the last time I’ll ever kiss her.

She feels too good.

Too right .

But my fucking foot is stuck on the edge of the bed and I can’t get closer.

I try lifting the boot, and it takes the crumpled sheets with it.

“Holt?” Ziggy whispers.

“It’s fine.”

She blinks at me, lit only by the moonlight coming in the window and the light from her room filtering across the hall. I can’t tell if her gaze is addled with lust or fully aware of something not being right.

“What’s not fine?” she asks.

I sigh.

“Your foot?” She twists beneath me, looking down my body. “Here. Let me help.”

No.

No .

She’s naked. Completely bare. I can touch her anywhere. Kiss her anywhere. Lick her anywhere. Again.

And I’m ruining the fucking moment by being unable to get around in my own damn bed.

“I got it. It’s just—stuck.”

She slips out from beneath me like a freaking magician, tugs once on the sheets, and then I’m free.

“How do you usually sleep?” she asks.

I roll to my side. “I don’t want to sleep .”

A grin flashes at me as she walks on her knees back onto the bed. She pushes my shoulder until I’m on my back. “Okay, grumpy pants.”

Shit . “Ziggy?—”

“Shh.” She slides one hand down my chest, leaning in to press a kiss to my jaw. “You’re allowed to be frustrated.”

“Some parts more than others,” I mutter.

Her hand drifts lower. “Like this part?”

She grips my cock through my boxers, and I hiss out a tortured breath. “ Yes .”

“I might have something for that.”

My dick twitches in her hand. I squeeze my eyes shut and concentrate on the sensation of someone else touching me, even through my boxers. “Feels—so—good.”

“Feels very large,” she whispers.

My frustration melts away, replaced with raging-hot desire for this glorious creature praising my cock.

My booted foot is hanging off the edge of my bed. I can’t flip her over without banging it around, which means I can’t make her scream.

But it doesn’t matter, because she’s slipping her hands under my boxers, letting my hard-on spring free into the cool air .

Relief mingles with the desperate need to stroke my cock, but before I can grip myself, she leans over, tucks her hair behind her back, wraps both hands around me, and licks me, her tongue swirling around the tip of my penis.

My hips jerk off the bed.

She giggles. “So that’s all it takes…”

I might not be able to roll around, but I can sit up, and I do. “Do you have any idea just how close I am already after eating you?” I growl as I grip her under the arms and pull her onto me.

“No. How close?” She leans over me, kissing my neck, her hair slipping down to tickle my chest. Her belly brushes my dick, and my eyes cross again.

“So—close,” I grit out.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Think about Fletcher in his waffle budgie smugglers.

“That’s good,” she whispers, “because I’d hate for you to not feel as good as I do.”

“You feel better than winning a cup after being written off as the worst team in the league.”

She strokes my chest while she presses soft kisses to my jaw, hovering over my dick like she’s giving me a minute. “That’s very specific.”

“Best day of my life.”

“I haven’t had the best day of my life yet.”

“Challenge accepted. Get on my cock.”

She laughs.

Fuck, I do too.

It’s been months since I’ve been with a woman, but probably years since I laughed in bed with one.

And it feels so damn good .

I hook a hand behind her neck and shift so I can kiss her.

She tastes like paradise. All of her. Her skin. Her mouth. Her pussy.

And while she kisses me back, she centers herself over my hard-on.

“Condom?” I ask against her mouth, barely getting the word out.

She half-laughs. “Can’t get more pregnant. And I’ve had all of the STI tests done the past couple months. I’m clear.”

“Same.”

“Good.”

I kiss her again, and she slowly takes me into her body, making me nearly whimper at her hot, slick core squeezing me.

“You are big,” she murmurs.

For the amount of extra blood surging to my cock, it’s a wonder I can think. “You’re welcome.”

She giggles again, and fuck me if she doesn’t squeeze me tighter.

Bliss.

Pure bliss.

She sinks all the way down with a shudder that makes her breasts jiggle.

Fucking perfection.

I shift my pelvis to press up into her, then freeze. “The baby?” I whisper hoarsely.

Shit.

Is this okay for the baby?

She smiles at me as she lifts her hips, then settles on me again. “Baby’s fine.”

“This won’t?—”

“No. This won’t hurt Tater Tot. ”

My damn heart swells up eight sizes.

She’s using my nickname for her baby.

She presses another kiss to my jaw, then shifts to lift her hips again, finding a rhythm as she rides me.

Her hands rest on my chest, fingers digging into me. When she dips her head, her hair brushes my shoulders. I thrust to meet her as she pumps my dick.

I can still taste her on my tongue, mingling with the scent of her vanilla honey shampoo. I roam her body with my hands, squeezing her ass, teasing her nipples, stroking down her spine from nape to crack, until we’re both panting and my cock is so hard and ready.

“Ziggy—” I gasp.

“Oh god, almost there,” she whimpers. “Feel—so—good. You—so—good.”

I can do this.

I can hold on for one more minute.

I grit my teeth and thrust harder into her, gripping her thighs, shifting my hands until I can brush my thumb over that sweet little nub at the top of her sex.

She gasps and throws her head back, squeezing me tighter, and then the spasms come around my cock.

Thank fuck .

I let go with a groan of relief as I hit my climax too, cock pulsing, squeezing her thighs tighter while she grinds hard on my hips.

Dots dance in my vision.

One foot curls.

The other’s fucking stuck in place.

But Ziggy’s gasping breath as she comes all over my cock is music.

Her grip on my shoulders makes me feel like her anchor .

The thing holding her life together.

I want to hold this woman’s life together.

I want her to know she matters. That I care.

I want new life in this house.

I want her .

For as long as I can have her.

Ziggy will cost me my rugby career. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not next week.

But eventually.

And as the last of her orgasm leaves her and she collapses on top of me in time with my own body relaxing, panting and blowing her soft breath across my chest, her fingers gently drifting over my shoulder as she releases her grip, I don’t care.

For this moment?

Worth it.

“Can I—stay?” she gasps.

I slide my tired arms around her back and squeeze.

Let her stay in bed with me tonight?

That’s the least I’ll do for her.

The very, very least.