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He’s holding me so tightly, and I’m afraid I’ll wake him up if I move at all. I hold my breath, taking a moment to study him. I’ve never been this close to Holden. I’ve never been touched like this by him.
His expression is uncharacteristically relaxed. Since he’s been out of prison, I have yet to see him without a scowl; even before then, it was rare. I can count on one hand the times I’ve seen him smile, none of which were directed at me.
His black eyelashes are thick and fanned out over his sharp cheekbones. The naturally tanned skin tone all the Redfords got from their mother is something my pale, freckled self will always be envious of.
I finally release the breath I was holding gradually so that I don’t wake him. His bare chest and shoulders aren’t quite touching me, but if he pulled me even three inches closer, we’d be in a full-on cuddle position.
I really shouldn’t drink so much if I’m going to end up in the den of the fucking viper.
I’ve seen Holden shirtless before, but being so close now, I’m able to make out the notched brand on his shoulder clearly. The two-inch double R depicts one letter mirroring the other. They use it to brand their cattle, but all the brothers bear the brand on their chest or shoulder. Duke got his at age sixteen, so I’m assuming that’s when they all did. I remember it well because he told me it was a rite of passage as a Redford to permanently mark the brand into their flesh, forever swearing family loyalty. They’ve all always been slightly unhinged.
The deep yearning inside my lower belly is growing stronger with each minute I stay locked in his hold. Holden will never feel the attraction toward me that I’ve had for him since I was a teenager, and I’m beginning to loathe myself for it.
You need to get out before he wakes up and sees you here. Maybe you can replace yourself with a pillow.
I slowly start to inch down. It seems like the best route for escape. I hold my breath again as I go. He’s still in a deep sleep, so maybe I’ll be able to sneak out without him ever knowing I was here.
One minute, I think I’m going to make it. The next, his eyes slice open, their black depths freezing me in place. He moves so quickly, I don’t even have time to react.
A cold blade of metal is pressed to my throat as he straddles me, pressing his lower body over my hips and pinning one of my arms back. His muscles are taut, the veins in his hands and neck popping out.
I gasp at the abrupt change in position, his weight on me, the thick bulge between his legs pressing right against my sensitive groin, and the effortless way he pins me down without me having even a moment to react or escape him.
He blinks at me, almost like he’s registering my face after he decided that I was an imminent threat. He slowly releases the pressure of the knife he’s holding against my throat. I drag in a sharp inhale, fear still gripping me tightly.
The terror of what he was about to do is replaced by something entirely different in the next moment when I feel his length harden. My lips part, our unexpected proximity drawing all attention to the nerves between my thighs.
Holy shit, he’s big.
Not that I’m quite sure what big or small would be, considering I’ve never actually felt a dick before. His feels … too big to fit up there.
He flexes his jaw, but doesn’t move off of me. His eyes are pinning me down just as much as his hands, studying me intensely. His chest rises and falls steadily as he glares at me.
I’m afraid, so afraid of him … but also so fucking turned on right now.
“What are you doing in my bed, Dixon?” he finally spits out.
I rush to explain. “I, uh … I think I ended up here by mistake. I thought this was?—”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say Dolly’s room, but he fills in the blank for me.
“Duke’s bed?” he says through gritted teeth.
I nod.
I’m having trouble holding in the moan that’s threatening to spill over my lips with every tiny burst of friction between my thighs. He’s so … overwhelming. I’m completely helpless right now, at his mercy to do whatever he wants with me.
Shit, I am the most pathetic twenty-one-year-old virgin who ever lived …
After another few intense moments of staring, I wiggle my bottom half against him. He immediately shifts, moving back to give me room to escape.
I scramble up, pulling my legs out from underneath him. He sits back on his haunches, palming the small knife. My eyes are drawn down to see the tip of his dick, sticking straight up inside his boxers and creating a tent effect. My mouth drops open. The image draws me back to the night I walked in on him getting blown in the barn. He didn’t have any shame then either.
My cheeks flush deeply.
“Get out,” he bites.
“What can I get for you?” I approach the table with a fake smile, trying my best to make it seem genuine.
