“Just something Kadence left behind.” She goes back to reading. Her lips move as she reads, making her even cuter.

“Is this one of her porn books?” I lean forward and pull it out of her hands. I’ve heard Nix talk about these smut books she reads. He told us one night it was just pure porn.

“Sy, give it back.” She jumps up, trying to pry it out of my hands.

I keep her at arm’s distance and read aloud from the book. “He allowed his molten juices to intermingle with hers,” I read over her screaming. “What the actual fuck, Holly?” I ask, trying to hold her off as I read some more. She climbs onto me, her ass right in my lap, but I can’t even think about that now.

“Give it back, now!” she demands, but I don’t; instead, I read aloud, “Plunging into her glistening moistness.”

“Sy,” she screams, snatching it out of my hands before I can finish.

“What the fuck are you reading that shit for?” I ask, concerned she’s being brainwashed. Molten juices?

“It was just lying around. I picked it up one day,” she tells me, trying to move off me, but I hold her in my lap, enjoying her sitting there. “It’s not just about sex,” she adds, trying to defend it, but I can see her blush.

“What’s it about then?” I ask, running my hands up the back of her dress, loving the feel of her under my hands.

“Umm, it’s about this guy who gets run over,” she explains, arching her back into the feeling of my hands lazily stroking her soft skin.

“Go on,” I encourage, watching her stumble.

“He … umm …” She pauses. “He was—” She breaks again, too lost in my touch. “You’re distracting me,” she complains, dropping her head to the side. Her soft, pale skin looks delicious. I lean forward and gently kiss her before lightly nipping at the area.

“What are you doing?” She whimpers at my touch.

“Kissing you,” I say in-between caresses.

“You are a good kisser,” she admits, bringing her hands up to my neck, pushing me into it.

“What have you got planned for tomorrow night?” I ask, trying to distract her.

“I’m not telling you,” she breathes out heavily, not falling for my interrogation tactics. My hands move to her strap, as my heartbeat picks up at the anticipation of pushing her to the next step. I want more than anything to strip her naked and feast on her, but I know she’s still shaky; the last thing I want to do is scare her. My fingers fumble over the thin strap, releasing it from her shoulder. She looks down at me, but I don’t let her look stop me. Following on, I work on the second strap. She pulls back, looking down at me, lust evident in her eyes.

“What are we doing?” she whispers, unsure, but I can’t grasp if she’s shutting this down, or just needs to understand what it is I’m asking for.

“I want to see you,” I admit, knowing I want more, but willing to take whatever I can get. She takes a shaky breath before bringing her hands around her. Releasing the zip, her dress falls to her waist revealing her perfectly round breasts. Fuck. I had forgotten how perfect she is. The pink tips of her nipples stand erect, begging me to lick them, take them between my fingers and pull. Even though I’m trying to control this, having them in my face is just too much. My hand comes up, lightly grazing the side of her breast, skimming over the nipple.

“Sy,” she breathes, arching once again at my touch. I’m on the edge of control. I don’t know how to do slow, or be gentle when it comes to her. The need to claim this woman is strong, but then I succumb to the need to protect her, my brain reminding me of my priorities and Holly’s fragile state.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I admit, leaning forward and taking her nipple in my mouth. Her body responds, her nipples sensitive and responsive. My dick strains in its position, begging me to let him free, but this isn’t about me. This is about Holly.

“More,” she implores, pulling my head to her breast. Her body rolls against mine, her pussy hitting the tip of my cock with each movement. “I need more, Sy,” she begs in a crazed state.

“What do you need, baby?” I look up, searching her face for what she needs.

“You,” she whispers, peering down at me. Her cheeks flush with arousal, her lips glisten.

“You’ve got me,” I say, kissing her nipple again.

“No, Sy, I need you.” She takes my head and forces me to look up at her.

“How bad do you need me? ‘Cause, baby, I’m ready as soon as you are, but fuck, once I start, there is no stopping me,” I warn. I know right now if she says stop, I’ll be able to walk away, but once I get her under me, there will be no stopping.

She looks down at me. Her panic is laced in arousal, telling me this is moving too fast for her.

“Let me take care of you,” I say, running my hand down her side then sliding up her dress.

“Just me?” she questions when my finger finds her prize.

“Just you, baby,” I confirm, letting her off the hook.

“What about you?” Her question comes out breathy as my finger moves through her wetness.

“I just want to see you come apart,” I tell her, meaning every word. As much as I want to take her right now, show her just how much the last few weeks have affected me, I don’t want her retreating.

“When I take you, Holly—and I will—there will be no questioning of if you want that. Do you understand me?” I ask as my fingers slide into her tight heat. She doesn’t reply, her head now lost in the feelings my fingers are drawing out of her. I forgot how responsive she can be. I feel her tighten around my fingers, her greedy pussy milking my hand for all it’s worth.

“Do you understand me?” I ask again, ensuring she’s on the same page.

“Yes,” she hazily replies.

“Yes, what?” I challenge, hooking my fingers to find her G-spot.

“When you fuck me—which you will—I’m going to want it, Sy.” She forces out shallow breaths as her hands come to my shoulders.

“Good, girl. Now, ride my fingers like you would my cock,” I command, watching her do as she’s told and build herself to the crest.

Fucking A, I don’t know how I’m going to survive this shit.

***

Her hair smells like cinnamon and hot apples. I remember the smell from the first time I met her. Cinnamon, and hot apples; the smell that makes me hungry for warm pie in one moment, and then makes me hungry for her in the next.

“Sy?”

“Yeah, baby,” I reply, pushing her hair off her neck to lean in and kiss the soft skin.

“Did you just smell my hair?” she asks, her voice sounding sluggish from sleep. After I made her come with my fingers, her body was spent, so I carried her to her room and told her to rest. I know I’m entering dangerous territory being in her bed. Even having her close when I’m on the edge is not good news, but I know this is what she needs.

“I love the smell of it,” I tell her, not caring if I sound like a fucker for it. “I’m liking your hair getting longer, too,” I admit. I was fucking pissed when she cut it off. I loved her hair when I first met her.

“What is it with you and my hair?”

“I think you’re beautiful any way you wear it, but do you remember that night you walked into my shop? You strode in wearing that short fucking dress, and those fuck-me heels. Any guy in a one-mile radius would have had a hard on for you. Hell, you had me hard, even with all of that attitude you were throwin’ around.” I laugh when she pinches me. “But it was your long hair shining under those fluorescent lights that had me.” I wrap my finger around the now shorter strands.

“I’m growing it again,” she whispers, turning to face me.

“Don’t do it for me. Have it however you want it. Like I said, you’re beautiful no matter what. I just miss having something to hold on to,” I joke as I remember when I pulled it at her apartment.

“I needed to feel like I wasn’t that person anymore, that scared woman who lost herself in that old barn.” She looks at me, her eyes showing the truth to her statement. “It was my way of controlling it. It sounds lame and maybe it is, but cutting it off was therapy for me.”