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Unwrapping Holly(12)

By:Lisa Renee Jones


Words escaped Holly, nerves clamoring inside her. Was he telling her he knew she was acting out of character? She didn’t know. Probably. Yes. He must know. He touched her with cool confidence that said he knew his way around a woman’s body, kissed her like a man who would dare her to take risks. Carried himself like pure, sinful masculinity. He knew she was out of her element.

Good gosh, she could barely breathe—let alone think—from the desire this man stirred in her. It frightened and excited her to imagine this powerful, gorgeous man on top of her, inside her, touching her. She was wet and aching. Needy.

Willing herself past her inhibitions, she acted on the desire to touch his cheek, reaching out for the rough stubble that felt erotic beneath her fingers. “I couldn’t seem to help myself,” she admitted finally in a raspy voice that she barely recognized as her own.

“I like that you couldn’t help yourself.” He kissed her knuckles and opened her palm, his lips brushing the sensitive flesh with ridiculously sensual impact. And his eyes, those dark emotive eyes, held hers. They reached inside her, touched her, moved her.

And for just a moment, she wondered if she had made a mistake. She’d had a few “vanilla” lovers, a few disappointments. But something told her there was nothing “vanilla” about Cole and his demands. Would she be able to handle him? Would she know what to do?

But then, he said, “I’d kiss you, but I’m not sure I will ever stop if I do,” and his expression held such dire need, a confession of need that matched her own, that Holly threw aside inhibitions and fears.

For once in her life, she wanted to be daring. She wanted to know that feeling of completely uninhibited freedom that she’d tried so many times to create on paper, from nothing but pure imagination. And this man was the one to teach her that. On some level, she sensed this particular man could give her a freedom she’d never experienced before. That with him, she would explore her fantasies rather than simply wish them to life. And she wanted that—it fulfilled a need she’d long burned to fulfill.

Desire spiked with her newfound resolve, and she whispered, “I don’t want you to stop,” and slid her hand to his face and pressed her lips to his.





ONE TOUCH OF HOLLY’S LIPS on his and Cole was ramrod hard, his cock pulsing with white-hot desire. Her lips were soft, her touch innocent, yet oh-so-seductive. And the kiss, the kiss was laced with a promise that she was his, soft and willing. She trusted him enough to reach beyond her obvious reservations and give herself to him. He found this realization provocative, arousing. He wanted nothing more than to press Holly against the seat, spread her legs wide, and find his way inside her, but even more, he wanted to be worthy of the woman’s gift—a part of herself no other had experienced.

Cole knew women, and Holly wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of woman. Whatever had led her to this place tonight, needing to explore beyond her comfort zone, it didn’t matter—what mattered was that she’d chosen him. And he planned to take damned good care of her. Slowly, he would guide her into confident territory, where she could explore her wants and needs.

Cole slipped his tongue past her lips, into the wet, warm recesses of her mouth, seducing her with his kiss, making love to her with his mouth. She rewarded him with a soft moan, a sensual sound that coiled in his gut and damned near undid his willpower. He could no sooner stop kissing her in that moment than he could stop breathing.

Deepening the kiss, he tasted her, his cock pulsing with the sweet honey flavor of her lips. She responded to the kiss with fervent need, clinging to him, offering him more of that sexy moaning that licked at his cock and tightened his balls.

Wisps of her silky hair tickled his cheek; the smell of her, the sweet aroused female scent, beckoned to him. He was hungry for her, starving—so he kissed her passionately. His hands slid under her coat to surround her slender waist, then brushed the bottom of her full breasts. She arched forward, melting into him as if she couldn’t help herself, encouraging him. Cole caressed upward, thumbed her hard, plump nipples. He wanted more of her. Naked.

The coat had to go, he decided, and he didn’t ask permission. He tore his lips from hers and slid it off her shoulders. Holly shrugged it away, urgency in her actions. The minute the barrier was removed, Cole wrapped his arms around her, and she willingly leaned into him. She was tiny, delicate, and unbelievably sexy.

He dipped his head, nuzzled her neck, and inhaled deeply. “You smell like vanilla and sugar,” he murmured, sliding her hair to the side to nibble her neck.

She shivered and pressed her body along his length, soft against hard, her fingers latching behind his neck. Telling him she wanted more as much as he did.