Page 24

MERIT

“I can’t believe we got everything in one trip,” Ridge says, carrying a box inside my new apartment—aka the Children’s Wing.

We were able to load up all my possessions in his truck and Holt’s truck. He sets it on the kitchen counter, and Ella immediately opens it and starts unloading some cooking utensils. Crutch, Ray, and Teresa are here helping too. I think it surprised everyone to find out that none of the furniture in the condo was mine. Not the couch, not the bed, not even the TV.

“Merit, I love all these movies. You have a great collection.” Ray looks at the covers of some DVDs and Blu-rays as he stores them in the living room cabinet.

“You play them at the store, right?” Teresa asks. “Both Holt and Raylee said something about it.”

I peek inside a box labeled bedroom and see my panties. I quickly shove it underneath my arm. “That’s right. Whenever the store is open, I have some type of old movie playing. Children nowadays have no exposure to that kind of stuff. I mean, when I see a child get completely engrossed in the dance scene between Gene Kelly and Jerry Mouse in Anchors Aweigh ? It’s just breathtaking.”

Crutch leans against the counter, taking a break from installing a new faucet. He absentmindedly and possessively rubs his hand across Ella’s pregnant belly. “I’ll have to admit, when you made me watch Singin’ in the Rain , it was better than I thought it would be.”

She smiles. “So, what you’re saying is…you should always listen to your wife.”

Instead of answering, he leans forward and kisses her.

Passionately.

Heat blossoms across my cheeks. No one else seems to mind their public display of affection. I guess they’re used to it. Not knowing what else to do, I turn to carry the box into the bedroom. I stop at the threshold to the hallway, unsure which way to go.

“Which bedroom are you taking?” Ridge asks. He’s got another box in his hands marked bedroom.

“Oh… I… uh…”

Holt slides his arm around my waist. His touch sends a tingle down my spine.

I love that feeling.

“You can choose either one,” he offers.

I nuzzle against his jawline, whispering so everyone doesn’t hear me. “I shouldn’t be in her room. I don’t wanna be rude or disrespectful. I don’t wanna tarnish her memory.”

He doesn’t ask who. He knows I’m talking about his cousin, Carrie.

Ella’s soft voice catches me by surprise. “You won’t tarnish her memory.” She gently laughs. “She would’ve liked you, you know. All she ever wanted was for all of us to be happy. And you make Holt happy. It’s as simple as that.” She nods to the two bedroom doors. “Just choose. It’s only four walls. Nothing more.”

Holt kisses my cheek and nudges me forward. Swallowing loudly, I walk into the bedroom on the right.

Thankfully, no one tells me whose bedroom it is that I chose.

***

I’m about to throw up.

If I put one more bite of pizza in my mouth, the other five slices will come spewing back out. I guess moving makes me hungry.

Holt checks the time on his watch. He promised Ridge he would meet him at the bar to watch football. Normally, Will and Cullen have a band playing every Saturday night, but apparently, they forgo that during the fall so everyone can watch college football instead. “You better head out before you’re late,” I say.

“You sure you don’t wanna come?”

I nod, looking around at some of the mess. “I wanna finish getting everything unpacked.” He growls his displeasure, making me giggle. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

He pushes away from the table and stretches. His pale blue T-shirt draws out the color of his already gorgeous eyes. His bronzed skin stretches across the hard lines of his muscular body. Even, the sun-bleached hair on his arms is sexy.

Holt is all man. Masculine and hard and confident.

“Like what you see?” he asks with a wink.

“Huh?”

His cocky smile curls one side of his mouth. “You’re staring at me.”

I plant my hands on my hips. “Well, that’s because I’m just wondering when you’re gonna leave so I can get my work done.”

He licks his lips, crossing the distance between us. “You forget I can read your face.” He lifts his eyebrows. “And according to you, your mind too.” His hands tug at my hips.

I lean forward. Lifting on my tiptoes, I squint my eyes together and fake a grimace. “So, what am I thinking now, sir ?”

He laughs, nodding his head, playing along with my game. “You’re ready for me to leave you alone.” Tugging me behind him, he leads me over to the alarm panel. “Let me show you how to use the alarm and electronic door lock. There’s a panel connected to every outside door.” He shows me how to arm and disarm. It looks fairly simple. “So, it’s the same number for everything—1102.”

I furrow my brow, nonverbally questioning the importance of the number.

“It’s the date I found Mr. Hard Knock.”

“Mr. Hard Knock?”

“He was my pet turtle.”

“You had a pet turtle?”

“Hell, yeah. I loved that thing.”

We end up talking about childhood pets while we gather the trash. Holt heads out to the bar, and I spend the next several hours putting away the last of my belongings. It’s midnight before I finally lie down in my new bed. It’s quite possibly one of the most comfortable beds I’ve ever laid on. Despite that, I can’t fall asleep. After an hour of tossing and turning, I finally get up.

I’m not sure why I open the door that connects the Children’s Wing to the Big House. And I’m definitely not sure why I walk down the marble hallway, tiptoeing, listening for sounds of Holt. I shouldn’t be out here. I shouldn’t be exploring. I made Holt promise that we would respect each other’s space and privacy when I moved in.

Here I am breaking the promise on the very first night.

I stop walking. Holding my breath, I listen again.

I don’t think Holt’s home. Surely, he would’ve called or texted when he made it home safe. He hasn’t done either. In fact, our last text was a couple of hours ago. Where the hell is he? Aren’t all the football games over by now?

Turning into his trophy room, I slowly look around. There’s no window in here. Holt told me it doubles as a safe room, so that makes sense. Fortunately, there’s a nightlight in the corner, giving my eyes just enough light to focus on the trinkets in front of me. Well, I don’t really think a Super Bowl ring can be called a trinket, but you know what I mean. Opening the glass case, I trace my fingers across the diamonds.

“Lost?”

Shitting my pants, I jump in the air and spin around, knocking over a box of newspaper clippings in the process. Holt’s leaning against the doorframe, watching me.

“Shoot.” I quickly bend down and try to gather the thin pieces of paper without ripping them. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be in here.”

“Why not? Everything in this house is yours. You can go anywhere you like. Do anything you like. Take anything you like.”

I put the box back on the shelf and carefully lower the lid to the glass case. “I thought you were a cynic of women, scared we were all out to poison your chalice, plotting to steal your riches. Yet, here you are, already turning over the keys to the kingdom? I guess my spell on you is working,” I joke.

He doesn’t say anything. It’s too dark for me to even see if he’s smiling. All I know is that the air grows thick with tension. Is he angry?

“Sorry, it was a joke,” I say in a rush. “I was watching Court Jester when I was putting things away. It has that whole bit about the poisoned chalice. You know how much I love Danny Kaye. And he—”

“Merit, stop talking, baby.” He swallows with a gulping noise. “What are you wearing?” His whisper is low and pained.

I glance down at my simple, white sleeveless nightgown. The lace edge barely covers my bottom. I’ve slept in the same bed with him—twice, as a matter of fact—and each time I was in my bra and panties. And he wanted more nights than that, but I made excuses about work and then packing up my condo. In reality, I’ve been scared. What if I’m on borrowed time with Holt? What if our happiness has an expiration date? As stupid as it sounds, I didn’t wanna exhaust all of my bliss. In my mind, if I didn’t spend the night with him, then it didn’t count. If I woke up in my own bed—alone and without him—then I still had all of my ‘Holt’ tokens in my pocket. I still had time to kill, money to spare, candy to eat, seeds to plant. Maybe that’s why I was so hesitant to move in. Why I made him promise that we would give each other space and privacy, despite only being separated by some walls and doors.

Because if I’m on borrowed time, I wanna savor it. I wanna make it last. If I could drag it out forever, I would.

Because I don’t want this to end.

“Mer,” he urges, begging me to answer his question.

I run my hand across my stomach, feeling the material. This gown might be a smidge skimpy from shrinking in the wash, but it covers way more than just my bra and panties… so I’m not exactly sure where this line of questioning is going. “It’s a nightgown.”

“I can see your silhouette through it. The lines of your body. Every single curve. The fullness of your breasts. The hardness of your nipples. The flower print on your panties.” He drags a staggered breath through his lungs. “You. Are. A. Fucking. Goddess. Just waiting to be worshiped.”

Holy shit. I guess the nightlight gives off more light than I thought—from where he’s standing, at least.

And from where I’m standing, I might not can see his face, but I sure as hell can hear the liquid sex in his voice, fucking my eardrums senseless.

It’s like I just had phone sex… in person.

“Oh.” Well, that’s original. I’m trying to think of something sexy to say or do when Holt beats me to the punch.

He stands straight and grips either side of the doorframe. He seems larger tonight. More masculine. More intense.

More Holt.

“Do you know how long it’s been since my fingers have been inside of you? Since I heard you cry out in orgasm and soak my hand in your cum?”

My mouth dries, and I can’t even swallow. Afraid I might choke, my hand snatches up and massages the base of my throat. All I can do is shake my head.

He makes a big show of checking his watch. The face of it lights up with his movement. “Seventy-seven hours.”

“Well, that seems like a long time,” I croak.

“Come here, Mer.” His order is laced with longing and urgency.

My heart pounds in my chest, beating louder and faster with every step. When I get within arm’s reach, he pulls me close, pinning me against the wall. His lips rub against mine. He doesn’t kiss me, though; he teases me. My mouth parts. His breath mingles with mine, intoxicating me with scents of beer and mint-flavored gum. He skims his hand across my thigh, instantly breaking me out in chill bumps as his calloused fingers expertly caress my skin.

He draws the want and need from me, stoking me slowly like a fire.

A fire about to engulf everything in its path.

When he dips beneath the elastic of my panties and drags his thumb through my wetness, I buck against him, unable to control the movements of my own body. His growl cuts through me like a knife, filleting my resolve. “Mmmm. Such a sweet fucking pussy. So wet, so perfect.” Moaning, I beg for more.

I suddenly feel abandoned and forgotten when his hand darts away.

But I’m not forgotten.

Not by a long shot.

He lifts me with ease, and my legs wrap around his waist. My damp crotch rubs against the erection tenting his cargo shorts. Without saying a word, he leads me back down the hallway, into the Children’s Wing, into my new bedroom. Lying me down on the bed, he kisses me.

And I mean he kisses me .

Like he hasn’t seen me in a month.

Like he just realized he can’t live his life without me.

His tongue pushes against mine. He draws the breath from my lungs and into his own. I suck his bottom lip, biting him, just wanting to make sure he’s real. In a tangled fury, he wrestles my panties down my shaking legs.

This is new.

Every other time, he’s worked his hands underneath my panties. I’ve never been bare for him before. He stops kissing me and stares at my body, committing to memory what he can see between the moonlight and the living room lamp, filtering down the hallway and into the open bedroom. “Fuck, Merit. You’re gorgeous.” When his fingers press into my core, everything I thought I knew about desire is upended. He stretches me, marking the deepest part of my body with his touch. His words are panted and breathless, tumbling through the darkness between our wild kisses. “So tight on my fingers I can barely move.” Twisting, he strokes the swollen ridges of my G-spot and presses his thumb against my throbbing clit. “Enjoy my fingers now, baby, because once my greedy tongue gets a taste of you, you may never see them again. I’m gonna be a hungry bastard.”

Instinctively, I grab his hair, tugging his face closer to mine so I can kiss him more forcefully, more violently. It feels like only mere seconds pass before my stomach clenches. My heart stops beating. My brain fogs with a flood of euphoria.

And just like seventy-seven hours ago, I come all over his hand.

Grabbing my ass, he folds me against him, holding me tightly as I float down from my high.

My Holt High.

He peppers kisses in my hair, and I can feel the sticky residue of my passion coating his fingers as he draws a lazy line down my shoulder and arm. I lower my hand, gliding it across his firm muscles and dipping my fingers beneath the waistband of his shorts. He jerks away from me.

Leaning up on my elbow, I stare down at him. Even in the dark, I can see the dilation of his eyes. The hunger, the want, the need. “I’ve seen you. I know what you do.” My voice is raspy and strained.

Grabbing my hair, he brings it to his nose and inhales deeply. “What?” he asks with a soft smile.

“You go into the bathroom. You shut the door. And you touch yourself.”

He swallows. Loudly.

“Why don’t you want me to touch you? To do the same things to you that you do to yourself?”

His eyes dart to my lips and down to the gap at the front of my twisted nightgown, where my breast is halfway showing. He licks his lips. “Because I want you to touch me.”

I blink, trying to absorb and comprehend his nonsensical words. “You don’t want me to touch you because you want me to touch you ?”

He nods, sucking air deep into his lungs.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” I pout.

“You’re my everything, Merit. And I know that once you touch me, I’m done for.” He cradles my face. “I wanna give everything to you. And I wanna take everything from you .” His voice is a rumble of thunder, animalistic and possessive. “I’m afraid…” he pauses, trying to gather his thoughts. “The things I want from you…” his voice trails off again, overcome with the power of his declaration, the truth of it. “I wanna own you—your body, your soul, and your heart. I wanna fucking consume every inch of you. In my mind, there’s no world in which we are two.”

He slides his hand into my gown, fondling my left breast. His fingers circle my hardened nipple, and then he pinches it. Hard. A shot of electricity pulses through me, making my pussy throb for more. “From the minute my heart formed in my chest, it was destined to beat for you.”

Slowly, he pulls his hand away, dragging his fingers up my sternum, up the column of my throat, where they settle against my lips. I can smell myself on his fingers as he traces the outline of my lips. “I’m afraid you’ll run. I’m afraid I’ll scare you. So…” his sigh is so heavy it’s almost tangible, overflowing with equal parts of adoration and sexual frustration, “we’ll take it slow. As slow as you want.” He halfheartedly chuckles. “Why do you think I haven’t tasted you yet? Because once I do, it’s game over.”

In my entire life I never imagined a man could make me feel the way Holt makes me feel—physically, emotionally, mentally.

And these words? These confessions of his soul? Now, that I’ve heard them, can I ever live without them?

My tongue snakes out of my mouth, licking his fingers. A half-moan, half-sigh rattles deep in his chest before he leans up and crushes me back down to the bed. But instead of ravishing my mouth with his tongue, he plants one long, lingering kiss on my swollen, needy lips as he gently nuzzles my nose with his own. Slow and steady, this is the kiss reserved for couples who have been lovers for a thousand years, mates since the sun first rose over the horizon.

“Holt?” My lips move against his.

“Yeah, baby?” His words push oxygen into my lungs.

When I don’t immediately respond, he stops kissing me and looks into my eyes.

“You’re right. I’m scared.” His face immediately falls, filled with dread that he’s taken, not only our conversation too far, but our physical intimacy as well. He makes a move to roll off me, but I grab his waist, fusing his body to mine. The steel length of his erection is so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if it bruises my side. “But if I run, I want you to follow me.”

His eyes dance across my face. His gaze is so intense it literally leaves tingles in its wake. His whisper is calm and chaos wrapped into one. Flight and fight. Permissive and domineering. Love and hate. “I’ll chase you to the ends of the earth, Merit.”

I wrap my hands around the back of his neck, weaving my fingers through his curls, tugging and pulling. There’s a good chance I pull too hard because he hisses between his teeth. I hook my left leg around his waist. My bare pussy opens wider and scrapes against the fabric of his cargo shorts. My whisper is barely audible. “But I’m not running tonight.”

Shifting my body, I force him to roll us over so he’s spread across the bed and I’m on top of him. I grab the hem of his T-shirt. Pushing it up, I leave him no option but to take it off. I drown in the sight of him. Holt is all man. His hard lines look like chiseled marble in the blue-white glow of the moonlight. Leaning down, I take his nipple in my mouth, lightly nibbling the pebbled skin, before I kiss my way down his stomach.

His palm reaches out, instantly massaging my scalp. “Talk to me, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“What I want is to feel you in my hands.” I look up at him from my position on my hands and knees. “And then I want you to fuck my mouth with your cock, sir .”

Holy shit. Did I just say that?

Hell, yeah, I did.

Quickly working his shorts, as soon as the button falls open, I latch onto the soft skin right above the band of his boxer briefs. I suck hard, leaving no doubt in either of our minds that my goal is to mark my territory and bruise him with a hickey. His hips thrust forward, bucking against me. “Oh, fuck me. You’re branding me, baby.” He hisses again, slithering against me like a snake.

“Yes,” I answer, my hot breath bouncing back in my own face. Satisfied with my damage, I lick and kiss the now-tender spot.

He doesn’t say anything, but I can’t help but notice that his hands are shaking when he helps me lower his shorts and his boxer briefs. His dick immediately jumps under the perusal of my stare. It’s so much larger than I thought it would be. Massive, huge. A fucking giant compared to Edward. Well, a fucking giant compared to any man. His throbbing skin is pulled tight, begging for release. Pre-cum glistens on the tip of his thick, mushroomed head.

For a second, I wonder what it would feel like to fully take him inside my own body. My eyes fall closed, picturing the moment.

Tenderly, he caresses my face. “What are you thinking about?”

“Just thinking about the future.”

Satisfied with my answer, he just nods. I straddle his legs, curious if he can smell the desire still weeping from my naked crotch as it spreads open wide. His intake of breath tells me that he obviously can. Sliding my hand between our bodies, I grab his cock, relishing the feel of his velvet skin over his hard length. His back arches, making him bow off the bed like a man possessed. It’s erotic and passionate. And completely gives me the confidence I need to pleasure him. I quickly find the rhythm he likes—tight and fast and intense.

“Oh, Merit…” His moan alone makes my pussy drip. Unable to stop myself—because I’m about die without some friction—I shift so that I’m straddling only one of his legs instead of both of them, and I start grinding myself against his kneecap, giving my clit the attention it so desperately needs. How in the world, I have enough brain power to remember to hump his right knee instead of his scarred and previously injured left knee, I’ll never know.

He strangles on his words, spewing them into the night, disguising them as heaving breaths. “My baby has a hungry little pussy. Spin around, and I’ll give her the attention she needs.”

There he is… reading my mind again.

I decide to reward him for his telepathy.

By taking him in my mouth.

He screams wildly into the night, driving me mad with desire. “Oh shit!”

I shove his dick into my mouth like I’m trying to swallow the damn thing whole. With every bob of my head, his tip pokes the back of my throat, making my eyes water. He’s not only long, but wide. I can feel the corners of my lips cracking. Like when you’re sitting in the dentist’s chair and have your mouth open for too long. His fingertips dig into my scalp. My forearms are braced across his abdomen, and they begin slipping around against his sweat. Giving up on chasing my own orgasm—because I want to solely focus on his pleasure—I scoot a little higher and sit on his thigh. His mumbled words tell me he’s getting close. Sucking his cock with the same fury of my pumping hand, I bring him to orgasm, eagerly swallowing every last drop. I drain his body, making damn sure there’s no possibility of him going to the bathroom later to jerk off.

After his shuddering body calms down, I sit up, eager to see his handsome face. And I can’t stop my smile.

Digging his fingers into my hips, he chuckles. I think it’s the most loving sound I’ve ever heard. Simple, but filled with emotion and intensity.

I tilt my head in curiosity. “What?”

“You forget you wear your emotions all over your face.”

“Oh, yeah? And what does my face say?”

His lopsided smile is the sexiest I’ve ever seen. “That you never want me jacking off in the bathroom again.”

Nailed it.