Unwrapping Holly: (9 page)

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Authors: Lisa Renee Jones

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He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm, peered at her with a plea in those chocolate brown eyes. “Stay, Holly. Help us decorate the tree, and then later”—he grinned—“I’ll wrap you up and put you under the tree.”
She laughed. “Wrap me in what?”
He wiggled an eyebrow. “Me.”
TWO HOURS LATER, LAUGHTER FOLLOWED Holly into Cole’s kitchen of shiny black-and-gray granite. Cole had gone for firewood while his brothers playfully argued over who deserved the honor of placing the topper on the tree. Smiling at the silliness of Cole’s brothers, she thought of her own siblings with longing. Another week, and Rachel, the middle sister, would be the first to arrive home. Rachel was now a big-time advertising executive in New York City, which felt worlds away from Texas. Holly couldn’t wait to give her a big hug and hear what was happening in her life.
Warmed by that thought, Holly filled her glass with ice and Coca-Cola and crossed to the door. But then she hesitated when she heard her name, knowing she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but finding it impossible not to.
“I like Holly,” Abe said. “Cole must, too, since he never brings his women home.”
Jacob snorted. “Holly’s going to go back to Houston. She’s safe. Not that Holly isn’t cool and all. I’m just saying. You know how Cole is.”
How Cole is
. Holly swallowed hard against the discomfort the words caused. She inhaled deeply and tried to understand why that bothered her. She’d not come here with the expectation of anything but a hot escape with Cole. It shouldn’t surprise her that he would see her in the same way—a hot holiday escape that ended when she went back home. Her gut twisted a little. But Cole was no longer a nameless one-night stand. And she had never been simply an out-of-town girl leaving soon. She was thinking of moving home.
She turned back to the counter and set her glass on top, holding the cold surface with a steely grip. What was she doing? If she moved back here, things could be awkward with her and Cole. If she didn’t—painful to leave. She didn’t want to feel like her long-term decisions were influenced by a fantasy, and she feared that was where this was headed. She needed to talk to him, to figure this out.
Cole’s voice sounded on the other side of the door a minute before he was suddenly there in the kitchen with her, leaving her no time to analyze her feelings or get a grip on them. Holly turned as he closed in on her; his legs framed hers, his arms outstretched to hold the cabinet on either side of her.
“Hey,” he said as if they hadn’t seen each other five minutes ago and she wasn’t standing in
his
kitchen.
Holly found herself laughing, the coil of tension inside her fading quickly. “Hey.”
He wiggled his brows. “I hear you’re using me for my body?”
She grinned at the repeated words she’d spoken a few minutes ago to his brother Jacob. “I like your tree, too,” she teased, feeling lighter by the moment. Cole was just so damn good at making her forget to be stressed—even when she should be. He was easy to be with.
Easy to have fun with,
she thought, as she added, “And it’s a good thing.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Because I can’t even manage to get your pants off.”
He laughed and kissed her, stepping closer so that the hard proof of his arousal pressed against her stomach. “Don’t I know it,” he murmured against her neck, and nibbled her ear. “I can’t wait until we’re alone.”
Her hands sculpted his muscular back. He felt good. He smelled good. Like warm cinnamon and spice. “Me neither.” Maybe tonight should be where she stopped this thing with Cole. She didn’t know what her next move should be. Didn’t want to think about it at this very moment. But she did want to enjoy what time they had. She played with the dark strands of his hair. “Don’t rush your brothers off because of me. They seem really into the tree thing.”
He studied her, his expression suddenly serious. “I’m glad you’re here, Holly.” The sincerity took her off guard, warmed her inside out, and Holly knew in that moment that she was in trouble. She couldn’t seem to get him into his bedroom, and if she wasn’t careful, soon she might not get him out of her heart. Which made the idea of being daring, of reaching beyond her limits all the more appealing. Better to keep this in perspective—this was a fantasy, a fling. An erotic adventure.
“I’m glad I’m here, too,” she said, sliding her hand down the front of his pants and stroking his cock. “Let me show you how glad.” He thickened beneath her touch, and she felt the high of that power to please, to tease. She’d never been so bold, and she was beginning to like it. She went up on her toes and nipped his lips, while one finger tracked the ridge of his erection. “You like that, yes?”
“Holly,” he whispered. “If you don’t stop now—”
She smiled. “I might make you come?” she challenged, her body caressing a path down his until she was on her knees before him. Her hands settled on his hips as she tilted her chin, staring up at him. “Do you want to come, Cole?” She had his zipper down by the time she’d finished the question, her hand freeing the thick, hot length of his cock.
“Yes, baby,” he said roughly. “I want to come. Take me in your mouth.”
She wrapped the width of him in one hand, a ball of liquid pooling at the tip of the head. Holly stared up at him and licked it free. He moaned and grabbed the counter.
“Shhh,” she warned. “Your brothers might hear.”
“I really don’t give a damn right about now, Holly,” he said. “They know when to get lost, and if they don’t, I’ll kick their asses.” His eyes heated, his cock pulsed. “Suck me, sweetheart. Suck me, now.”
The idea that they could be discovered was surprisingly arousing. But she wasn’t ready to give him what he wanted, not yet. She licked him instead, lapped at the silky head of his erection with long, languid strokes of her tongue, and found herself moaning when the salty taste of his arousal touched her lips. The muscles in her womb clenched and tightened.
She stared up at him, watching him watch her. The raw, ani malistic hunger in his expression drove her wild. Teasing him was torture, and she could wait no longer. Holly drew him into her mouth, sucking him deep, and wrapped one hand around his stellar, tight ass. She wanted all of him, wanted him as hot as she felt. He pumped his hips, low guttural sounds escaping his mouth as he worked against her, pulsing and throbbing in her mouth. She could feel the tension in him, the need for release. He was damned near shaking and so was she. She’d never had a man come in her mouth and she wanted that now, wanted to taste his release, feel that power, that control. She licked and sucked, urging him onward.
Give it to me,
she thought.
Give it to me.
As if he heard her silent demand, he tensed and then shook, his cock spasming against her lips. Suddenly, her body clenched, tightened. Disbelieving, she realized she was coming, and with each pulse of her own body, she sucked him harder, deeper, took his pleasure with her own. Drank in every last drop of his release and then slowly, delicately licked the head of his still-thick erection and stared up at him.
“Now we can go finish the tree,” she whispered.
HOLLY SNUGGLED INTO THE BURST of warmth surrounding her, her lashes fluttering as she came awake to find herself in Cole’s strong arms. He lifted her from the couch where she remotely remembered curling under a blanket and listening to him and his brothers talk about holidays of the past.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her arms wrapping around his neck, noting the absence of his brothers, who had clearly departed while she slept.
“Not far,” he said, settling her down on a blanket in front of the fire a moment before he pushed to his feet and started undressing. In a blink, Holly shook off the haze of sleep, her mouth watering. Finally, she had Cole to herself, all of him. She was instantly wide awake, enthralled by every inch of his exposed skin. The tree twinkled behind him, casting rainbows of color on the taut, gorgeous muscles he wasted no time displaying—first he removed his shirt, exposing broad shoulders, a tapered waist, and a six-pack of rock-hard abdominals that damned near made her orgasm just looking at them. Then, one piece after the other, his clothing disappeared.
In only seconds, he stood gloriously naked before her, his cock jutting forward in an impressive arousal. She was on her knees in an instant, crawling toward him, not about to wait for him to come to her, desire driving her to be the aggressor. Her body gushed just thinking about taking him in her mouth, and this time she would have no mercy. She would make him beg for satisfaction before it was over.
Holly settled at his feet, and caressed up his powerful calves and then wrapped the base of his cock with her palm. He moaned and stiffened, the lines of his face harsh, primitive, laden with the urgent anticipation she’d hoped to invite. She’d given her share of blow jobs in her college years, compliments of a boyfriend who favored his pleasure over hers. And she’d found that the process of mastering it, much like a craft, was enticing though not quite enjoyable. Never had she wanted to take a man in her mouth for the sheer pleasure of it—until now. Until Cole. She was like a new woman with Cole. Daring. Willing to explore and eager to use her newfound sexuality to lead an encounter. With a seductive glance upward, she pinned him in a stare and licked the liquid bead pooling at the tip of his arousal, her free hand skimming an amazingly tight ass.
“You like that?” she asked, her lips lingering near his cock.
“Yes.”
She licked the head again.
“Holly,” Cole murmured, her name etched with the burn of his desire, his fingers pressed to her head, in her hair, urging her onward as she did a slow swirl of her tongue around the head of his cock.
“Do it, Holly. Take me.”
“Not yet,” she said, lapping at him. She wanted more than his orgasm. She wanted all of him; she wanted him wild, a ball of sexual tension unleashed with explosive pleasure.
So, she restrained herself, restrained him, maintained a facade of leisure as she licked up and down his length.
With long, languid strokes of her tongue, she teased them both until finally, inch by inch, she drew his cock into her mouth, taking him deeply. He was hot and hard and, like before, she tasted, with satisfaction, the salty, taut need building within him.
Slowly, she began to pump his rod with her hand, suckling him and laving him with her tongue. Harder, she pulled on him; deeper, she took him—yes . . . she wanted him deeper. His cock expanded, thickened. What she couldn’t manage with her mouth, she covered with a tight wrap of her palm. His muscles strained; the sinewy lines of well-defined male perfection flexed as pleasure stole away his control.
“Harder, baby,” he panted. “Deeper.” She smiled against his cock, and gave him what he wanted, working him with her hand and mouth. The slow rock of his hips was no longer contained, turning to all-out thrusts; his hands settled more firmly in her hair. He was on the edge, rushing over into release. She drew him deeper, and he tensed a moment before shuddering to release. She worked her mouth around him, lapped up every last moment of the reward, and then slowly brought him down.
But there was no time to revel in her success, her power over this amazing man. Cole swiftly shifted the power, claiming control. One moment he was standing, the next, on his knees in front of her, his eyes smoldering with the promise of a bounty of sinful delights. He lowered her to the blanket, framing her body with his, the fire beside them crackling with hot embers.
He whispered her name against her lips, “Holly.” And she shivered with the passion-etched word. Shivered with the caress of his lips across her jaw, down her neck.
With sensual, tender hands, and nimble lips, he displayed a remarkable flair for finding every sensitive spot on her body. Demonstrating how sinful his lips could be in the most delightfully unexpected places, his tongue traced her wrist, the bend of her arm, the line of her spine clear to her backside.
She was lost, barely aware of the moment he slid a condom in place. Barely aware of her own name for the tenderness of his lovemaking.

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