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Hotel-flavored memories flood my vision as the whiskey swims in my head. Her down on her knees, lips around my cock. I’m about to open my mouth with a much-needed spilling of my guts when she rears back and shoves my chest with both hands. I step back, eyes wide.
“I’m only living and working here because I’m trying to get away from my father.” Her eyes are brimming with tears.
“Does that mean you finally believe me?” I bite back, expecting her to deny the allegations of him kidnapping her and her mother and framing me for it.
The water is seeping through her shirt, revealing the pebbled tips of her breasts through the white fabric. She nods, a barely perceptible motion. My throat tightens as I stare down into her eyes, searching for the truth.
“I believe you,” she whispers, her wet lashes brushing against her cheeks. “And I’m so, so sorry, Holden.” Her voice cracks.
My chest caves in. I grip the back of her neck, dipping my forehead down to hers. “I’m sorry, Rosie. I’m so fucking sorry for everything that’s happened.”
She sucks in a ragged inhale, choking on a sob. “I—I’m sorry … sorry for calling them, for telling my aunt where we were. I’m so fucking sorry that they locked you up again. You’d warned me what would happen. You’d told me they’d do it, that they wouldn’t give a shit about what I had to say. I should’ve believed you. I should’ve?—”
She drags in a broken cry, eyes lowering in shame. I want to hold her, confess my incredible addiction to her, make love to her, beg her to move into my house and never leave it.
Instead, I reach up to wipe away a tear mixed with water. “Sleep with me tonight? I need to hold you. I need … I just need you.”
Her bottom lip quivers as she nods, relief flooding her features. I drag the soaked shirt up over her head, tossing it on the shower floor. Then, I grab the waistband of her leggings and pull them down. I get on my knees to peel them off of each foot, one by one. She braces herself on my shoulder with one hand.
With slow, gentle movements, I use my bar of soap to clean her. I spend more time than necessary on her breasts and between her legs, grazing over the surface of her skin, deliberately moving at a glacial pace. Goose bumps prick her skin despite the scorching temperature of the water.
Her breath hitches when I use the showerhead to thoroughly rinse her from head to toe. I watch her face as she gasps with the spray between her legs.
“You look so damn good when you’re turned on.”
“Like an angel?” she asks.
“My angel.” I press a kiss to her hip bone, eyes on hers.
41
ROSIE
He still hasn’t said that he loves me.
Holden is carrying me to his king-size bed, muscled shoulders stealing my focus as I try to remain grounded and not melt into his blubbering little sex doll.
He has to say it before I let him fuck me again.
He tenderly lays me on top of the covers, the dim light of the lamp illuminating the space with a romantic orange glow. He uses the towel around me to dry my long, wet hair.
“I’ll sleep in here, but we are not having sex,” I announce.
His dark eyes flicker up to mine as a smile ghosts across his lips. “Okay, angel. Whatever you want.” He leans forward and stamps a kiss on the tip of my nose.
He stands and walks over to his chest of drawers, fishing through one for a few seconds while I admire his rounded ass cheeks.
Be strong! Don’t give in. You got this!
Do I?
I swallow over a lump in my throat as dampness seeps between my thighs. He turns around, and my eyes shift up to his face. If I see his dick, I’ll give in. He pulls on my arm, lifting me up from the pillows to put one of his T-shirts over my head. He dons a pair of formfitting boxers before climbing into bed next to me. His arm wraps around my torso, pulling me up against his chest. The hard length of this erection presses into my ass cheeks. More of my arousal immediately begins to ooze out of me.
I grit my teeth. “I mean it. We’re just sleeping.”
He chuckles into my neck. “Holding you is more than enough for me, but I can’t control my physical reaction to you. I just can’t.”
My chest sputters with his words. I wiggle closer to him, drawing a painful groan from him.
