Shit. I can’t believe I said that aloud.
“It is. I’ve been told it’s pretty mind-blowing.”
Holt’s words are like a jolt.
An aphrodisiac.
A stimulant.
An intoxicating rush.
An inaudible “Yes, please” puffs from my lips.
His lopsided grin turns sly.
Darn inner voice.
“You want that?” he asks.
So it is a blatant invitation.
His voice is unapologetic and yet, a small part of me feels like he is toying with me. Playing me for a fool.
The fact remains this gorgeous strapping man causes parts of me I didn’t even know were dormant to roar back to life. Suddenly, I can think of nothing else than having said lonely parts caressed, touched and kissed. Something tells me Holt Christensen would do that really, really, really well. And as God is my witness, I want it all.
What to do? What to do?
There’s a war raging inside me. There’s a part of me that thinks I’m stir crazy—that’s the straight-laced voice talking—then there’s the newly acquired adventurous side—the renegade voice that thinks Holt would look pretty darn good naked in that tub.
“I’ve never done anything like that before,” I confess.
“Which part? Being tied or hooking up with a guy you barely know,” he reads my thoughts.
My heart pounds like a drum.
“Both.”
“Well, the handsome man in front of you would be more than happy to show you the ropes... pun very much intended.”
I laugh out loud and love the dichotomy in him—he’s one part sweet and one part dominant.
I weigh the risks against the rewards.
I throw caution to the wind. “I want that with you.” The words spill from my lips.
“What do you want exactly, Everly?”
I wave a nervous finger at him. “What you just said.”
“I want to hear it from you.”
“Clearly someone is playing hardball,” I retort.
His grin tells me that was the wrong choice of words.
“You know what I mean,” I add quickly.
“Here's what I know.” He allows for a short pause, as if he wants to make sure he has my undivided attention. “We can keep running around in circles or I can show you my mad skills. What will it be?”
“Tie me up,” I blurt out.
Speaking the words sends another hedonistic jolt throughout my body.
“Is that how a good girl asks for something?”
“Please. Tie me up, please.”
“Much better.” His tone is rough. “Looks like I’ll be sampling your goods earlier than I thought.”
I swallow hard. I still can’t believe I was willing to go there. “So it seems.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“Are you backing out?” I'm in no position to dare this guy.
“Not a chance. A gentleman always asks twice—”
“I’m sure.”
I don't think I've been this certain about anything in a very long time.
“My place is—”
With rushed hands, I open my clutch and rummage through it. “I—I have a luxury suite upstairs.” I pull the key card out and lift it at eye level.
My God, I’m nervous.
He cocks an eyebrow. “You’re well connected.”
“Another perk of saving a bar mitzvah,” I explain.
He grabs the key card from where it’s balanced between my fingers and slides it inside the inner pocket of his suit jacket. It's like it's happening in slow motion.
We both lift our gaze up at the same time. To the unsuspecting eye, we’re just two people engaged in a friendly debate. The frantic palpitation of my heart lets me know otherwise. After a few long beats, Holt reaches out for my hands. When he brings them to his lips and drops a soft kiss against them, I shiver inside.
“Do you need to let anyone know we’re together?”
His question takes me by surprise.
“What do you mean?”
“A backup?”
“Oh, yes, of course. Clearly, I don't do this very often. I should let my cousin Ainsley know.”
I pull out my iPhone, tap on the screen and step beside him.
“Smile for the camera,” I say.
He chuckles, but he's a good sport about it.
In fact, what was supposed to be one photo, turns into five hilarious minutes of me clicking away. Holt even grabs my phone and has a go at it. After our selfie session, I shoot Ainsley a quick text.
She’s going to freak out.
“I'm all yours,” I say with feign calmness as I tuck my phone back into my clutch.
“Music to my ears,” he grins. “Lead the way, precious.”
Dear God, I might not survive this night.
CHAPTER 13
Holt
This night will forever more be engraved in my memory. The last six years of sacrifice paid off big time tonight. The media was buzzing about my artists’ wins. Small record labels don't often dethrone more established ones. Mine did. Sure, I was going to stick around for a bit, but at the end of the night, I had planned on going back to an empty house, pouring myself a glass of whiskey and reliving the triumphant highlights. I came to the lounge for a short respite from overzealous reporters with a thousand questions. I was going to head back to the pressroom. I swear. The second she approached, my plans changed. I never expected her and I never expected she’d say yes to my bold proposal.
The small group of people on the elevator ride is a blessing. Had it only been the two of us, chances are, I would've devoured her well before we reached her suite. Since the crowd doesn't allow for intimacy, I pull out my phone and shoot a text to my publicity team and one to Mrs. Talbot to check up on Naomi. Everly pulls out her phone as well.
When the doors open on the penthouse floor, I interlace my hand into hers and pull her behind me. My jaw is so fucking tight and my cock is rock hard in my effort to act like a gentleman until we’re behind closed doors.
“Which way?” I ask.
“Down the hall and to the left,” she says.
With a rushed step, I guide her to her suite.
“That’s me,” she points to a door straight ahead.
I circle my arms around her shoulders and flip her around, forcing her to walk backward the rest of the way. When we reach the door, I place my hands on the doorframe by her head and step into her, invading her space.
“Chivalry might get kicked in the ass once I open the door,” I warn.
“I'm okay with that,” she says, raising her chin up.
“Good,” I nod.
I lower the key to the reader and it doesn't take much for the door to open. I push Everly inside the room, kick the door closed and drop the key on a table near the entrance. There’s no time to appreciate the swanky penthouse. For now, I’m only interested in one thing. I can’t think beyond my hard on and my need for her.
“Come here,” I repeat our earlier dance. I pull her tight against me before twisting us both around so her back is against a wall. I move in close, placing one hand above her head.
“Do you know how much I’ve been thinking about you since I left your bakery?”