“Shower,” Hollin said, gently pushing me toward his bedroom.
“What? Why? I was thinking alcohol and nap.”
He laughed. “Have you smelled your shirt lately? Your hair?”
I brought the front of my shirt to my nose and immediately started coughing. “Oh Jesus. Smoke.”
“Yeah. So, shower.”
“Does my hair smell like it too?”
He shot me a look. He knew how sensitive I was about my hair. It took forever to clean and doubly forever to dry. I hated washing it and hated blowing it out. But letting it air dry was worse. It meant it would be five times the size I wanted it to be with frizz for days. Who knew if or when I’d get all the smoke smell out of it?
I grumbled under my breath and followed him into the bathroom. He put the water on its hottest setting as I stripped. When he turned back around, I was topless, and he gaped at me.
“I feel like we’ve been here before,” he said with an arched eyebrow.
“I wasn’t topless that time outside Wright.”
“No, but I thought you were.” His hands slid around my sides and pulled me into him. “Your bra was nude, and at first, my brain didn’t process it. And that was when I knew.”
“What?”
“How much I wanted you.”
“Because I was almost topless?”
“Well, yes, but we found the ring.”
He unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down my legs. I stepped out of them, cringing at the memory.
“Oh yeah. I try to block that out.”
“I was irrationally angry that he’d think about proposing to you.”
“But you didn’t even like me.”
“Sure I did. I liked pushing your buttons. And when I thought about you with someone else, I got pissed off.” He hefted his own shirt over his head. I ran my hands down his bare chest, taking in his words. “I wanted you to myself.”
“And now you have me.”
His smile was blinding. “Every stubborn inch of you.”
He slid out of the rest of his clothes and dragged me into the shower under the spray. I laughed as the water hit my back, soaking through my smoky hair. He drew us both under the jets. He kissed me hard, stealing my breath and all conscious thought.
My back hit the white tiles, and I lifted a leg around his hip, drawing him in closer. Today had been harrowing and exhausting. The adrenaline had dissipated, and with it had come a hollow emptiness that I didn’t want to touch.
But this…
This I still wanted.
Hollin Abbey had saved my life. He had been an actual hero today. And more than that…he was now my official boyfriend. And I wanted him to make me forget the last terrible hours and remember the bliss I’d been in when we put a label on our relationship.
He grasped my ass in his hands, digging his fingers hard into me before lifting me into the air. I wrapped both legs around his waist as he leveraged me against the shower wall. Steam fogged the shower window. It clung wet and warm against our bare skin. My breathing was ragged and my throat raw from the smoke.
I dragged his bottom lip between my teeth, biting down just hard enough for him to pinion me against the tiles.
“Fuck,” he ground out.
His cock jutted up between us, long and throbbing.
“Please,” I gasped.
He obliged, lining us up and thrusting hard upward. I gasped and cracked my head on the tile. My vision was blurry at the edges as he plunged inside of me. I shook with the exertion of holding myself up. Even Hollin’s massive legs quivered as the slick surface threatened to undo us.
I was close when he finally dropped me to my feet, spun me around, and pushed my body forward. I braced myself on the bench, and he drove back into me. His hands returned to my hips. With better leverage, he used all his momentum to jerk into me. I met every thrust with my own push backward against him.
It was only a matter of minutes before I was crying out into the shower. My orgasm forced his, and then he held me fast against him as he finished. I dropped onto my knees. My head was light, and everything felt woozy.
I looked up at him from heavily lidded eyes. “Hi.”
He chuckled and bent down to kiss me. “Hey you.”
He helped me to my feet, and on shaky legs, he soaped up my body and then his. He lathered up my hair with his shampoo, running his hands through the thick, long tresses, and repeated it with the conditioner. I’d never been taken care of like this before. And all of the tension from the day swirled away down the drain.
When he finished, he turned off the shower, wrapped me up in a towel, and carried me to his bed. I laughed, but it felt nice to have him tuck me in. He pulled on a pair of boxers and snuggled in tight behind me. He pressed a kiss to my shoulder.
“How are you feeling?”
“Sleepy,” I said, pushing my back against his hard chest.
“Good. That’s what I wanted.”
“You planned this?” I only half-accused, my voice already drifting into dreams.
“Planned to take care of you? Yes.”
I couldn’t even argue. It had worked. It was what I’d needed. Now, I could finally relax enough to sleep. I’d process what had happened tomorrow. Today, I needed this…just him.
28
Piper
Thankfully, my dad dealt with most of the fallout with the barn. It had been caused by an electrical fire that swarmed swiftly through the space. Because it had taken so long for the fire to be put out, the barn was unsalvageable. The entire thing would have to be torn down and rebuilt. We had insurance, but it was disheartening, to say the least.
I had no idea what we’d do until that point. Almost all of the offices had been in there. Most of the wine had been in the cellar, but years and years of work had been lost in the fire. In the interim, we’d given most of the staff time off and moved me and my dad down to the cellar until we figured out what to do.
By the time the weekend came around, I desperately needed the break. The gala for the DII soccer team was tonight. If I hadn’t agreed to go with Hollin, I might have skipped the entire thing. Peyton had assured me it was just what I needed and that I couldn’t miss seeing her perform. Which was true. I loved to watch her dance.
So, I put aside my aching heart and got ready for the event. In years past, the three grandkids had always gone to Abuelita’s house, dressed in our prom attire. Abuelita always wanted to be the first person to see us in our outfits. And even though prom was long past, the three of us had agreed to show off for Abuelita one more time.
Peter stood in his tuxedo as Abuelita, seated at the dining room table, circled her finger in the air. “Do a little twirl.”
He sighed. “I don’t twirl.”
“You took ballet for a few years, like the rest of us,” Peyton said. “You know how to turn.”
He shot her a look and did a perfectly executed pirouette. Peter had been better at the grace of it all than I ever had. If he’d stuck with it like Peyton, maybe he would have ended up in New York, too.
“Lovely,” Abuelita said. “Now, slower. These old eyes don’t see like they used to.”
He obliged, turning in a slow circle as Peyton went into the bedroom to change. “I do look pretty sharp, don’t I?”