Whiskey Kisses (17 page)

Izzy

Dear Dad,

Sometimes life has a way of surprising you, in a good way. I’m okay with that. More than okay.

Almost happy for once,

~Iz

If I could describe my life in colors it would begin with a pure azure blue the exact color of my father’s eyes, then, after he left, an entire sea of navy to represent the long dark night he cast us into. The black of midnight would come in right at my eighteenth birthday. It created a stain that bled through for almost ten long years. Then this new world Holt has brought me into, first yellow, then orange, then red with aching passion. We were ripping through every shade of pink, electric blue, green as bright as springtime, peaches and creams, the deep salmon of a brand new day. Every color was present and accounted for. They were all here, in every hue, with Holt spilling them at my feet like a deck of playing cards. We had unearthed one of life’s biggest secrets, how to push past the darkness and fall madly, deeply in ruby red love. And, although I’m not ready to say those words—to hear them—I’m ready to live them, to let them vibrate over me in a rainbow poured out from the hot of Holt’s mouth, from the weight of his steely body over mine. Holt is delivering me from the darkness, taking me by the hand and leading me out of those charred woods I lost myself in so long ago. I don’t know how to thank him. I don’t think there are enough thank yous to let him know how indebted to him I really am. Holt is the only man I’ve ever felt comfortable with. The only one that doesn’t make me feel as if I want to jump out of my own skin simply from being in the same vicinity. Holt makes me feel at ease. He makes me
crave
his kisses, addictive as candy. And now I want all of him, covering me, in me—buried deep inside where he can never come out.

I run my hands down the hard ridges of his abs, lower still until my fingers run through the curls at the base of his hips, and I’m holding him—
holding
him right there in my hands. My fingers run up and down, taking in the slight curve, feeling the ridges, and, for a fleeting moment, I want to tell him there’s no way in hell this is ever going to fit inside me.

“You okay?” He presses a warm kiss onto my forehead, and the shadow of a smile etches up his cheek.

“Better than okay. You sure this is all right?” I give him a slight squeeze, and Holt trembles with a quiet laugh. “I mean if you’ve been harboring a
big
, bad secret, now would be a good time to tell me.”

“I promise it was made just for you. It’ll be perfect.” He dots another sweet kiss to my lips and falls back on the bed, tearing open the condom wrapper and pulling out the shadowed disc. “It’s sticky—you probably don’t want to touch it.”

“Sticky, huh?” I run my finger over it to affirm this.

Here I am, thrust in a brand new world—one that my friends, my sister, entered into forever ago. My heart pounds as if it’s trying to hammer its way out. My body goes numb as the gravity of what’s about to happen sinks in.

“I must be laughable to you.”

“What?” He rolls it on, and I defiantly run my finger down his rock hard curve one more time. Still sticky. “Izzy.” Holt leans in until his warm breath brushes over my cheek. “I don’t know what happened that left you so hurt, but I promise—you’re everything good in my life. I will always be here for you. We fit—deep down inside, we’re the same person. I’ve wanted you as a part of my life ever since I stepped in that dance studio when I was just a kid. It was you, Izzy. Every day since that moment it’s only been you my heart has wanted.”

My breathing picks up as my mind swirls with thoughts of that fated day. Is it a coincidence that Holt was there that afternoon, venerating my beauty through his starry eyes, and that it’s him who’s pulling me through to the other side of this great ache that swallowed me whole so long ago?

“I remember that day.” I dig my head into the pillow. “And now I want to build new memories.”

“I’m in.” Holt gently cradles the back of my neck, pulling me closer until a breath can’t be squeezed between us.

His mouth crashes over mine. Holt sings my praises, venerates my beauty once again by way of his white-hot, electric kisses. These were impassioned pleas for me to hear him, to feel his affection, and I want to. I want it all with Holt.

I pull him down and feel his weight as he lays his chest to mine.

“Izzy”—he draws back until our eyes connect, and my adrenaline rockets through my skull—“I’m in love—”

I touch my finger to his lips and shake my head ever so slightly.

“No words,” I whisper as tears blur my vision. I can’t go there. I’m not ready. Don’t know if I’ll ever be.

I pull my knees up and guide him in, closing my eyes, just feeling the burn as Holt becomes a part of me in the most intimate way.

He lets out a groan—a roar—as if he’s had it pent up all along. I arch my head into the pillow and bite down hard over my lip. Holt presses in, pushing deeper as my body fights him every inch of the way. He leans down and peppers my face with heated kisses before pulling out and starting in on a slow and easy rhythm. My body starts to give. My legs relax over his back as he thrusts in and out with far more ease. Every last part of me surrenders to him, and I open up for Holt like a moonflower. Here it is—done, in the record books. Holt Edwards is my first, and, lucky for me, he wants to be my last.

Holt reaches down and threads his fingers through mine. He pulls my hands over my head as he continues to move his body in mine. This feels right, natural, and pure. Not one part of me wants to run screaming. No—in fact, I want this feeling—this moment—to last a hundred years. I want this moment to stretch out like a rubber band until it snaps from delirious pleasure, and all of time is frozen in this wonderful night forever. Holt promised me tricks and treats—
fireworks—
and he’s delivering far more than that.

Time moves in uneven jags as Holt loves me with his body. My nerves dance on their raw edges in rhythm to his thrusts, shouting with a fury as a fire builds in me that only Holt can quench.

“
Shit
,” he whispers as his body slams into mine, harder—faster. Holt is racing to the finish line. His muscles tense over me, solid as sheetrock. I glide my hands down his back and dig my nails into his hips as he gives the last few violent thrusts. Holt lets out a groan and stiffens over my body before giving a mean shudder. He tracks wet kisses to my temple, dripping down to my ear, panting up a storm, making me warm and heady. “You okay?”

“Yes.” I find his lips and tear off a kiss. “God, yes.” I pull his bottom lip into my mouth and graze it with my teeth, sucking it down, trying to swallow it. “For the first time in my life I feel better than okay.” I fall back to the pillow and pant through a smile. “I feel happy. You make me happy, Holt.” Tears come without permission. It’s true. Holt cut the head off the demons that have haunted me for so long, and I feel whole again.

“You make me happy, Iz.” And strangely he looks grieved at the concept.

I take a quivering breath. “So when do we break out the whips and chains?”

Holt rumbles out a laugh before licking a line from my cheek to my ear. “Whenever you’re ready, kitten.”

“With you I’m always ready. You push me past my comfort zone in a good way. Until a couple of weeks ago, I was only going through the motions. It’s you who’s teaching me how to live.”

“Really?” His smile arches up in a shadow before blooming into something far more vexingly wicked. “Because I’m about to teach you something else.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“The fine art of pleasure.” Holt lands his lips over mine, rotating his tongue through my mouth as if he were drilling for oil. He moves his lingual efforts down my cheek, dripping those molten kisses to the nape of my neck, stopping briefly at my collarbone. “Heaven,” he whispers. “That’s what you taste like.” Holt continues his journey down my body, his fingers trickling over my hip. His hand floats to my thigh and flattens over my stomach for a moment before he glides up and cups my breast. Holt offers the world’s softest massage, digging his fingers into my flesh ever so slightly. He brings his lips over my nipple and takes a gentle bite. A hard groan comes from the both of us in unison. Holt dives down and loves me right there for a brief stretch of time, and my body enlivens, every nerve in my body stands at attention, trying to fan the flames of this building inferno. Holt and I are already burning for each other with the hottest kind of fire, so bright and consuming there’s no extinguishing this blaze. His mouth moves lower still to my belly, and an involuntary quiver ripples through me. A small cry escapes my throat as I pick my head off the pillow, taking in this new sensation.

“How’s that feel, kitten?” He buries another soft kiss into my stomach before I can answer.

“Insanely good.”

Holt looks up and gives the flash of a smile that ignites the room like a bolt of lightning.

His mouth dives over me again as he twirls his tongue into my belly button, and I tremble with an involuntary laugh.

“Maybe too good,” I whisper. “But I’m not complaining.” I thread my fingers through his thick, glossy hair. All those weeks I’ve wanted to do this. Holt has the most amazing soft hair, slick and cool.

He moves his meandering kisses to my waist. Holt traces out the curve of my hip straight down my leg, my shin, then races back up through the inside of my thigh and my legs clamp shut.

“Whoa.” He inches back. “No one said tonight was going to end in a decapitation.”

“Nor should it.” I pull him back up by the arm, and he lands another mouthwatering kiss over my lips. Holt has it backward. He’s the one that tastes like heaven. Who knew the best part of my existence would be the day I fell into Holt Edwards’ mouth? His
bed
.

“I want to make you feel good.”

“You do.” I tuck myself beneath him. “You know what I like?”

“Pina coladas and getting caught in the rain?”

“Making love after midnight.” I pull him in by the cheeks and feel him growing against my thigh.

Holt reaches over to his nightstand once again.

I think we can go on forever like this.

I think we will.

The morning light cuts through my lids like a laser, blinding me, pulling me away from the blissful dream I’m having. Holt and I are on a warm sunny beach, rolling in the sand, losing ourselves in a sea of wild kisses.

Something touches my foot, and I kick it away. Damn cats. A soft wet sensation streams across my stomach, and I squirm in an effort to wriggle my way back into that beachfront fantasy. A warm wet streak sinks down past my hip and into places that cats should never venture.

“God!” I sit up, clutching at a ball of fur that—has Holt Edwards’ face attached? “Oh!” I sink back on my elbows as he swims up. “Sorry.”

“Morning to you, too.” He gives a kiss through his smile. “More like afternoon. It’s one-thirty.”

“It is not!” I bat his arm before drawing him in.

“God’s honest truth.” His teeth bump against mine, and I savor the feeling.

“In that case, good morning and good afternoon.” I pull his body over me like a blanket.

“Should we go for good evening?”

“As long as you’re not starving, I’m good.”

“Really? Because while you were catching up on your beauty sleep I snuck over to the kitchen and made you this.”

Holt pulls a plate from the nightstand—a tower of pancakes swimming in syrup.

“In that case, I lied.” I sit up and pull the sheets to my chest. “I’m absolutely starving.”

“Good, because I’m starving, too.” Holt plunges his fork into the gooey confection and breaks off a piece. “I’m going to feed you.”

“You’re going to feed me?” An involuntary purr filters from my throat. He slips the first bite into my mouth—warm and light as air. I give a hard moan. “Mmm—that’s perfection. Did you make those? I think you missed your calling.”

“I did, and thank you. By the way”—he tilts into me with that sexier-than-hell half drugged look on his face—“it’s pretty damn erotic watching you eat.”

“Really. Well, you’re in luck because it’s no rarity. I’m pretty religious about getting three square meals a day. And I’m not shy about it either.”