“I did. You know it?”
“Who doesn’t know it? Everybody fucking knows that lime. You seriously just blew my mind, Holliday Hughes.”
I smile and laugh. “Yeah, most people are pretty shocked when they find out I’m the woman behind the lime.”
“I bet.” He lies next to me and I slip back down into his arms. “I’m impressed.”
I pretend to pop my collar. “Well, I’m not a rock star or anything…”
Rolling on top of me, he says, “No, you’re better and completely fucking hard to resist.”
“Who said anything about resisting? Hope you’re not getting tired on me. I’m having way too much fun to stop now.”
With a light chuckle and a cunning look in his eyes, he smiles. “Don’t worry. I’m just getting started.”
“A woman who blushes even after being made love to might just be the sexiest thing ever.” ~Johnny Outlaw
The water cascades down Dalton’s body as the spray of the shower hits the top of my head. I take him in again, deliberately slow because I know he’s close. He grips the small ledge he’s leaning against with one hand, the back of my head with the other.
The shower stall is steamy, but there’s no shortage of hot water. Pressing one hand against the marble for support, I hear a muffled moan just as his head hits the wall. His tremors stop and I swallow around him.
“Shit, don’t do that,” he says, his voice breathy. “My dick is sensitive.”
I slide back—hands on thighs, mouth closed, eyes wide, kneeling before him. His tone, like his expression, is serious when he says, “You’re going to be the fucking death of me, Holliday. You, the way you look at me, makes me want to stay here with you forever.”
When I stand up, I rub my chest against his, remaining pressed firmly against him. “Nothing lasts forever. You’d grow bored.”
I expect a witty comeback. That’s our thing. I don’t get snark. Instead, his arms come around and pull me into an embrace, my cheek to his chest—the gesture kind and loving after such heated activities. If I’m not careful, I might confuse this for something more, something deeper, something I would be able to count on.
Relying on a musician to be faithful is not the plan. Do I think it might be nice to see Jack Dalton on a regular basis—yes. But as for Johnny Outlaw—he’s more unpredictable. And I don’t handle unpredictable very well. My life is organized, scheduled to the minute, planned, and synchronized with my growing business. I don’t have a life outside of work. I’m single. I take care of myself and my company. It’s better that way. Nobody gets hurts, especially me.
“Relax,” he whispers. “You’re so stiff. You’re over-thinking this. Enjoy the now.”
My shoulders drop and I close my eyes. “What are we doing?” I ask, feeling like I’m on the verge of developing feelings for the man that fucks me one minute then holds me tenderly the next—giving me the best of both worlds.
“We’re having a good time.”
Moving away from him, I press my back against the opposite wall of the shower, my hands behind me. You can’t get much more exposed than this, vulnerable, with no barriers to hide behind.
“A good time,” I repeat, nodding and looking down.
“A really great time.” When he speaks, he draws my attention back to him. “I’m not going to feed you lines, Holliday. You know my lifestyle now. It doesn’t work well for most women.”
“And here I thought I was special,” I say with a laugh while rolling my eyes.
“Why do I get the feeling I could tell you all the things that make you special, but you’d still think I’m feeding you a line of BS?”
“Because you already know me well enough to know that’s true. How about one?”
He smirks. “I thought you didn’t fish for compliments.”
I shrug. “Sometimes a girl needs an ego boost.”
“You have great tits.”
I laugh, the noise sounding good even to my ears. Dalton may not be able to make me any promises, but he knows the right thing to say to make me see the good in the moment. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but really,” he says, dropping his hands on either side of me and kissing my lips. “I should be thanking you.”
“Go on.”
A chuckle echoes deep in the shower stall then he replies. “I’ll go on alright. And on.” He kisses down my neck and across my collarbone, his fingers settling between my legs.
Resting my arms on his shoulders, I close my eyes and feel, feel everything he wants to give me, each sensation playing a part of the melody our bodies create together. The water rains down around us as his breath heats the skin of my neck. It’s just a whisper that could have been so easily lost in the sound of the shower, but I hear him. I hear him and my heart clings to the words when he says, “You’ll always be my angel.”