Into His Keeping (8 page)

“
Yes
,
just like that
,”
he approved
.
“
That
’
s my good girl
.
Do you want me
,
Jilly
-
girl
?
Tell me
.
I need to hear it
.
I won
’
t touch you unless you ask me to
.
You have to understand you
’
re not helpless like this
,
just so stunningly beautiful
.
God
!
You
’
re so beautiful
.”
His voice had gone reverent at the end
.

“
Holdin
!”
Jill moaned urgently
.
“
I need you
.
Don
’
t make me think
.
You know I love you
.
Please
,
please
,
touch me
.”

“
Like this
?”
he asked as his fingers sank down to tunnel into the honey curls surrounding her sex
.

“
Yes
!
More
,”
she demanded as he just stopped with his middle finger resting on the nub of her clit
,
the two fingers beside it curling down the length of her flushed outer lips
.

“
Tell me
,
baby
.
Tell me what you want
,”
he insisted
.

“
No
.
I can
’
t think
.
Just take me
.
I need so bad
.”
Jill was desperate
.
The drive for release almost painful as her body burned for him
.

“
Are you asking me to take control
?
Are you giving me this body
,
Jilly
-
girl
?”

“
Yes
!
Please
!”
she begged helplessly
.

“
Say it
,
baby
.
Tell me what
’
s mine
.
Only mine
.
Give me this sweet body
,”
he insisted softly
.

“
Only yours
,”
she panted
,
“
Always
.
You know that
.”

“
Mine
!”
breathed out of his mouth as his lips descended to the nearest nipple and his fingers spread her pussy lips and tormented her clit
.

The explosion of sensation pushed a wail out of Jill as he took possession of her
.
His mouth sucked her nipple deep and hard
.
The hand on her pussy held her open in a fashion that was shocking even though no one could see her as his middle finger manipulated her clit
.
Jill wanted to scream but somehow she couldn
’
t
.

All she could manage were muffled moans as she endured pleasure that was torment
.
Then suddenly there was loud
,
pounding thunder
.

No. Not thunder. Pounding. Where?

Jill jackknifed up in bed as her door opened and she stared at the face in it blankly. Still wrapped in the dream she was panting, her face flushed and her pulse skittering in alarm as the long-ago afternoon faded away.

Two faces in her doorway. Confusion and concern on them.

“Mom, you ‘kay?” Drifter asked in concern. “You were moaning. Is there pain? Do I need to call Dr. Coates? You’re flushed too and not breathing right.”

“No, ah, no, I’m…” Her eyes flicked up to the worried man standing behind her son and heat flashed across her body. She knew the blush painted her guilty and trembling hands tried to hide her cheeks as she looked at Drifter again.

“No, really. Just a dream.” She gulped back a moan when she realized the man behind Drifter smiled slowly at that confession. His eyes had always seen every detail, every nuance of her expressions, mannerisms. At one time he could simply glance at her and read her body. He wore that look now and he was right. She didn’t like it.

“But you’re trembling.” Drifter’s brow wrinkled in concern as he stepped farther into her room.

Behind him Holdin’s eyes changed, the lids became heavy as his gaze dropped and Jill realized she was sitting up with the covers at her waist. Her thin nightshirt did nothing to disguise heavy breasts and the sharp outline of swollen nipples. Jill grabbed the sheet and clutched it up to her neck.

“I just woke up. I’m fine,” she insisted. “Now shoo. I need to get up.” Her voice wasn’t as firm as she’d like it to be but she needed to get rid of these two.

“But…” Drifter started, still concerned.

“It’s okay, son. Your mother was startled when we knocked,” Holdin injected smoothly, a hand resting on Drifter’s shoulder to pull him back out of the room. “Let’s give her some privacy to wake up.”

“I don’t like this place,” Drifter argued as he frowned back at Holdin. “It’s too big. I can’t hear her if she falls.”

“I’m not going to fall. Stop worrying,” Jill insisted. “There’s no pain, hon. No headache. It was just a dream. I’ll see you downstairs in a few minutes.”

“My room is right next to hers. Remember?” Holdin added. “I’ll hear her if she falls. Come on.”

“But…? Are you sure?” Drifter asked again, worried as he searched her glowing face. He ignored Holdin’s hand on him, looking to Jill for confirmation.

“Yes, yes. Go on.” Jill avoided looking at Holdin. “I’ll be down in forty-five minutes.”

“Take an hour if you need it.” Holdin grinned at her over Drifter’s head as the boy backed out. “Breakfast can wait ‘til you’re ready.” His eyes twinkled and he let them drift down again to where her legs were clamped tightly together. “As I recall, sometimes you needed a little extra time to,” he paused and looked into her eyes again, “be ready,” he finished the awkward sentence that had nothing to do with breakfast.

As Drifter turned, Jill mouthed “Beast” to Holdin.

Holdin held the door handle and leaned in so only his head was in the room and their son behind him. “Sexy beast,” he corrected softly, and pulled the door shut.

Jill slowly sank back into her pillow and resisted the urge to groan loudly. Her body was damp with sweat and need. It trembled with the power of that distant afternoon and now she had to get up and face Holdin’s family. Thank God, her son didn’t know the signs like his father did.

She’d just resigned herself to a cold shower and was sitting on the edge of the bed when the phone rang beside her on the nightstand. Frowning at it, she wondered if it was a ranch phone. It didn’t seem logical that Holdin would have his guestrooms wired with the public number.

“Hello?”

“What was the dream?” a familiar voice rumbled in her ear.

“None of your business. Does every room have its own phone number?”

“No, this is room to room, like an intercom but more private. It is my business. I think it’s all mine, baby. You’re flushed and damp, all the way to your toes,” he drawled. “Nothing could be more my business. Now tell me. What were we doing to get you so worked up?”

“Who said it was about you?” she shot back.

There was a pause. “Don’t play that game, Jilly-girl.” Holdin’s voice dropped even lower. “I know you’re lying. You looked into my eyes and blushed from head to toe. Your body blasted out a wave of sexual demand and I could smell the want in the room. It was mine, woman. Don’t hide behind another man. I’ll not stand for it.”

Jill’s back stiffened. “Lying? I don’t tell you what you want to hear and you call it lying? Then you think you can lay down some sort of command?” Jill asked in sarcastic amazement. “Aren’t you just the king of everything? Get over yourself. I’m not one of your groupies and I don’t work for you so take your judgments and orders somewhere else.”

“Wait, Jill! Don’t you—”

“Stop! Now. I’ll be down when I’m ready and I don’t intend to put up with this,” she informed him with acid in her voice. “You don’t get to order me or my son around.” She put the phone down softly.

It rang again immediately. She picked it up and didn’t bother putting it to her ear, simply held it in front of her and said, “Nor will I be bullied by this. If you insist on calling back, I’ll take it out of the wall. My door opens in two seconds and you will see the last of us, Holdin. If I have to lock my door in your house, I don’t need to stay here. We are not your possessions. If you can’t manage to respect us, we’re gone.” Jill dropped the phone back in its cradle and eyed it. It didn’t ring.

She sat on the bed five more minutes to make sure her door would not open at an awkward moment. Apparently he’d gotten the message. Acid turned in her stomach and ate at her as she shuddered in reaction. She hated confrontation. Now she began to suspect she might have overreacted.

She’d panicked when he called her a liar. Panicked because it felt like a slap from him. The emotional impact was too huge to deal with. She’d been teasing and he’d “hit” her. Well, not really, but just the fact that it’d hurt her so deeply had pitched her into a defensive shrew. One thing Jill did not do was lie. Never. Truth was too precious to her. Too difficult to see in the world around her. “
God
!
I am a mess.”

Holdin put his phone down very gently. He reached for control and securely fastened the lock on his inner demons. Possessive rage was pointless. She was correct on a certain level. They were not his yet. He coldly analyzed their exchange and acknowledged his words had been too strong. He’d reacted to her snappy reply and the vision of her dreaming about sex with another man had flipped him right into Neanderthal mode.

Time to go to the gym. He’d skipped the session this morning to spend time with Drifter. Right now that was the only place he could safely work through his reactions. His suite of rooms came with his own exit out the back of the house. Once outside he jogged to the farthest building across the wide expanse of lawn.

It was a steel structure thrown up on a concrete slab. Not fancy in appearance but inside were all the tools a pro quarterback needed to stay in form. This retired quarterback intended to make use of every one of those if he needed to. By the time he stepped back in the house, he had to be completely able to repair his relationship. To get to that place, he needed to run the “beast” into the ground. That bastard was not going to raise its stupid head again today.

Grimly he entered his private domain. He’d built it with his first signing bonus and it had been his sanctuary in his quest to be the best so Jill could find him. This space had seen him rage over Jill, weep over her and drive himself into the ground as he pushed himself to new limits. That first pro season he’d painted her name on the ceiling so he could look up to focus on the motivation. Several years later he’d painted over it but it didn’t matter. The letters were still there, under the paint. He was always aware of them and often wondered if he should have scraped them off first but suspected that wouldn’t have worked either.

His career, his physical abilities, they all were monuments to Jill. The quest to regain her had consumed his life for so many years. His journey had often been dark, even dangerous. He’d focused on winning and that meant destroying his opponents with all the ruthless zeal of a grudge match. Every single time. This space had seen him overcome pain, exhaustion, even several concussions. Here the relentless competitor had honed himself into a weapon.

Holdin started his workout. Pressing the timer, he whipped into motion. Pushing himself against the clock was extremely effective. Time didn’t care who or what he was, it could beat an opponent without effort or emotion. Holdin needed the ruthless challenge of it right now.

And still she invaded his mind. The memory of her body poured over his last night rode him like a burr on a long-haired dog. He couldn’t untangle his mind from the sharp prickles of need. Then there was the scent of her hair and that more personal perfume he’d recognized and realized he’d forgotten in the same moment. He’d been shocked that he’d forgotten it. Recognizing it last night had rattled his core so badly that he’d thought he might come just breathing her in.

He’d spent most of the night coldly forcing himself to breathe normally and sporting a tent pole under the sheets. A big old revival meeting tent too. He could almost hear the choir singing under there but it wasn’t a hymn from the Baptist hymnal. This tune came straight from the temples of sin on Bourbon Street. The bluesy call to passion had throbbed with a thick backbeat that pounded up his veins.