“Lots of people have one.”
“I’m not lots of people, I guess.” I rubbed my hands over her shoulders, and she tilted her head back. “It isn’t that I’m against dating. I’ve just been focused on trying to build a theater career, and keep my day job, and have a life.”
I could see that. But I also knew that despite how outgoing she was, Mina was also shy. It was why she liked fictional people so much.
I’d also seen her reticence at getting naked in front of me, and though I didn’t press her on it, I knew that had something to do with it. Mina wasn’t completely confident in her body, and she’d assumed it would matter to me.
Frankly, I didn’t give a fuck. Mina was hot. Her breasts were hot, her hips, her waist. Her mouth was hot. Her tummy was hot. The insides of her thighs were hot. Her pussy was definitely hot. To me she was just hot, full stop.
Men really aren’t as complicated as women think they are sometimes.
“Fine,” I said, running my soapy hands up under her armpits, making her squeak in surprise. “You don’t have boyfriends. I’m not going to complain.”
“You have girlfriends, I bet,” she said, twisting to look at me through narrowed eyes, as if she’d just caught me with one.
I grinned at her. “Relax. My last girlfriend and I broke up a year and a half ago.”
“So it’s just hookups, then.”
“I don’t do hookups. They’re not my style.”
Mina twisted to look at me again, this time in shock. “You’re telling me that you haven’t had sex in a year and a half?”
I felt my brows rise. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“I’m trying to believe the idea that you’re actually more celibate than me. I didn’t think that was possible.”
I pressed her shoulders so she had her back to me again, then soaped her back. “I work a lot, in case you didn’t notice. A hell of a lot. My job is stressful, I’m pretty screwed up, and I live with three guys and a lesbian.”
Mina’s muscles relaxed under my hands. She may have curves, but she was also fit and strong from the dancing she did. “So what you’re saying is that you’re lucky I took pity on you,” she said.
I put the soap down and moved her forward, under the warm spray. I cupped her breasts while I pressed flush against her back, letting her feel how hard I was. “Very lucky,” I growled.
I heard her intake of breath, and then her body melted against mine. I let my palms take the weight of her breasts, feeling their full, perfect softness, the nipples hardening against my fingers.
“Holden,” she breathed.
I slid one hand down her belly, over the curve of her hip, then brushed my fingertips over her pussy. Mina gave a shiver that was the best thing I’d ever felt, her body tensing then relaxing, her breath growing short. She leaned her head back onto my shoulder.
“Let me show my appreciation,” I said.
I slid my finger into her, and she moaned. I took my time, just as I’d done earlier with my mouth, learning exactly what she liked, the pace, how much pressure and where. It was important to know.
It didn’t take long to get the hang of it. Pretty soon I had her gripping my forearm for balance, her nails digging into my skin as she got closer and closer.
I liked regular, everyday Mina. But I also liked the woman she kept under wraps, who was vulnerable and sensual and really liked sex. Especially—I was a lucky bastard—with me.
Hopefully only with me, because that was the way I wanted it.
I stroked her, feeling how hot she got, listening to the sounds she made as my cock got harder against her back. She leaned back into me, arching her hips into my fingers, and I felt her get deeper into the sensation, felt her let the pleasure take over. Finally she came, crying out as I kept her upright, her pussy squeezing around my fingers in a way that nearly made me come.
She sagged as I reluctantly slid my fingers out of her. “That’s no fair,” she said softly. “I’ve had three orgasms and you’ve only had one.”
I slammed the water off and grabbed her by the hand, leading her to the bedroom. As I rolled a condom on, she got on all fours on the bed, which was the hottest thing I’d ever fucking seen. But I didn’t take much time to appreciate it because I got on the bed, parted her knees with mine, and slid deep and hard inside her.
I tried to make it last, but I was already halfway gone.
Afterward I grabbed a towel from the bathroom and dried her still-wet skin. Mina slid under the covers, satisfied and already sleepy. I got in with her. At long last sleep overtook me, and I sank into oblivion still smelling the scent of her skin.
Twenty
Mina
Here are the things that happen to you after a night of hot sex with Holden Whittaker:
One, you get magically taller.
Two, you are suddenly hotter than Scarlett Johansson.
Three, all of your problems go away.
That was how it felt as I went to work the next morning. Holden had left early, though not before giving me a parting gift in the form of his mouth between my legs. Because apparently, he actually liked doing that. I’d never known that kind of man existed except in romance novels.
As I got off the train and walked down the street toward Morgan Financial, I noticed a coffee-and-bagel truck called Anil’s. Normally I’d skip a bagel with all of its carbs, but today was a good day, I hadn’t had breakfast, and Holden Whittaker wanted to have wild sex with me, so fuck it, I’d do whatever I wanted. I stopped and ordered breakfast and a coffee to go.
“I know you,” said a voice in line behind me. “You’re Graham Morgan’s assistant.”
I turned and saw the woman Mr. Morgan was seeing, the one who had left the office while I sat at the desk. She was just as gorgeous as before, wearing perfect jeans and ankle boots and an off-one-shoulder top, her long hair worn loose. The ends were dyed blue. She gave me a friendly smile.
“I’m not really his assistant,” I said. “I’m the office supply person. I was just manning the desk for a few minutes.”
“Ah. So you don’t have to deal with his terrible attitude all the time.”
Actually, the rumor around the office was that ever since he’d started seeing this particular woman, Mr. Morgan was much nicer than he used to be. It was Eliza’s theory that Mr. Morgan’s girlfriend had a magical vagina, but I wasn’t about to repeat that to her face. That seemed a little forward. “Mr. Morgan isn’t that bad,” I said. “I think he’s just misunderstood.”
That made the woman laugh softly. “My name’s Soraya,” she said.
“Mina.” I grabbed my breakfast and we stepped out of the line so the people behind us could go ahead.
“Do you like working with office supplies, Mina?” Soraya asked.
“I hate it.” Then I realized what I’d implied. “That’s nothing to do with Mr. Morgan, of course. It’s a great company and I’m happy to have the job.”
“You don’t have to bullshit with me,” Soraya said easily. “I’m pretty blunt, myself. That’s why I work for an advice columnist.”