Smoking Holt Page 2

  No. He couldn’t stand her. It was hardly a secret.

  And it pissed her off.

  She shot a glower at him and something froze in her chest. Probably her heart. Or her anger. Or her heart. Because he wasn’t looking at her with apathy or revulsion or some fake contrition.

  He looked stunned. “Where did you get the idea I can’t stand you?”

  “Gee, I don’t know, Holt.” She stubbed out her cigarette. And then the other two. “Maybe the way you treat me like I have a disease?”

  “I do not.”

  “All right. Warts then.” She rubbed the annoying prickle at the corner of her lids. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t.

  “Bella—”

  “It’s okay, Holt. I get it. I’m hardly your type. But could you at least—”

  “You’re exactly my type.” He said it softly enough, but she heard it. The words percolated through her booze-pickled brain.

  “What did you say?”

  He sat back, eyes glowing. “You heard me.”

  They stared at each other in silence as the rain pattered on the big umbrella and then dripped onto the deck in fat splats. Tension and desire crackled between them. It became almost too intense to bear.

  Bella fumbled for her pack of cigarettes, but Holt covered her hand with his. “No. No more,” he said. “Not tonight. Fixate on this instead.” And he leaned forward and lowered his head.

  Chapter Two

  Holt couldn’t believe it. She was holding still as he came in for a kiss—a kiss he’d been fantasizing about for months.

  And who wouldn’t fantasize about kissing Bella? She was drop-dead gorgeous. Just looking at her made his mouth water. His cock hard. He could barely contemplate more. Much less make an attempt.

  Maybe it was the whiskey he’d guzzled on an empty stomach or maybe it was the desolation surrounding her like a cloak. Or maybe it was the burn of repressed need rising up within him. But somewhere during their awkward, confrontational exchange—and they were always awkward and confrontational—a sudden resolve had washed over him. A determination to change things between them.

  It had been like this for far too long. And he had no idea why.

  Holt threaded his fingers in Bella’s silky hair and cupped her nape, pulled her closer. Her lips parted and her tongue peeped out as he approached. Desire raged through him.

  He’d wanted her, ached for a taste of her for so long, he could barely breathe, now that he’d finally dredged up the courage.

  But breathing was overrated.

  His lips touched hers. Her scent, her essence, filled his mouth and he groaned. She tasted like ambrosia.

  Okay. There was a hint of whiskey and a trace of menthol, but he could overlook that. For the moment. Because—shit—her lips moved beneath his. And not a murmur of protest or outrage or fury or any of the other responses he might have expected in the unlikely event he might grab her and suddenly kiss her with no warning.

  No. She was exploring, tasting, sipping him like a woman long denied.

  He tipped his head to the side and deepened the kiss. His gut clenched when she opened for him, gave him better access. And then—yeah, his cock sprang to attention—she sank her claws into his shoulder and tugged him closer.

  She nipped him. Just a gentle nip to his lower lip. And his vision went red.

  He didn’t mean to growl.

  He didn’t mean to go all feral and wrench her chair around in a metallic squeal of protest.

  He didn’t mean to scoop her up into his arms and hold her luscious form hard against his body while he consumed her. Bracing her on the table, using the umbrella pole for leverage, he grasped her buttocks and positioned her over his crotch and rubbed, dry humping her like a lust-crazed beast. The ashtray and the whiskey bottle fell onto the deck as he jostled the table in his frenzy to feel her fully against him. He ignored them. Ignored them and rubbed his cock against the damp heat of her core.

  Sure, it was through two layers of jeans, but it was closer than he’d ever been to heaven in his life.

  He had to revise that thought a moment later when Bella, who was—unbelievably—undulating against his cock and grunting and moaning, tossed back her hair and stared at him. The fire in her eyes stole his breath.

  “Holt,” she whispered through clenched teeth. “God, yes, Holt.”

  Now that was the closest he’d ever been to heaven.

  That look, those words—Jesus. A dream come true.

  Why the hell hadn’t he grabbed her and kissed her with no warning before?

  Because he’d thought—deep in his heart—she’d push him away. Maybe slap him. Certainly dress him down. Never in his wildest imagination had he expected this. Well, maybe in his wildest fantasies. Maybe in all his fantasies.

  But he’d never thought it would really happen.

  He held her close, cupping the small of her back, and nibbled his way over her cheek and along her jaw to suck on her earlobe. She went crazy, huffing and moaning and fisting—fucking fisting—his hair.

  He’d never been into hair pulling—at least having his hair pulled—but something about her rough and riotous response to his nips and laves made the fire in his belly flare. He responded in kind, twining his fingers in the skeins of her hair, holding her still at just the right angle as he explored the exquisite column of her neck.

  He cradled her breast. Squeezed. He couldn’t resist. God. She was soft. Full. Delicious. He longed to yank off her shirt, rip off her bra, expose those tremendous globes to his hungry sight.

  He wanted her naked. He wanted in her. Now.

  A fury of passion enflamed him. A passion that could not be quenched—

  He stilled as a cold finger traced its way down his back and, unerringly, found its way to the crease of his ass. And another. And another. And then the finger became an icy rivulet.

  He glanced up to see that, during their tumult, the umbrella had tipped and was now funneling a stream of cold water right onto him.

  Goddamn rain.

  Whatever happened now, it wasn’t going to happen here.

  Without asking—he didn’t want to chance jostling her from this receptive mood—he lifted Bella into his arms and carried her into the house. He nuzzled her neck as he made this transition, because it seemed to keep her preoccupied. And hell, he really liked her response.

  Who knew she would be such a tigress?

  Well, he’d known.

  He’d suspected anyway.

  Every conversation, every interaction with Bella was like a battle for domination. It stood to reason making love with her would be the same. And while there was nothing Holt enjoyed more than exerting domination over a willing woman, the prospect of winning it—from Bella—appealed much much more.

  He sat in the first chair he came to, settled her across his lap and kissed her again. This time he took her mouth slowly, savoring her, rubbing his lips gently over hers before delving deeper with his tongue.

  He nearly lost his load when she sucked on him, mimicking another act he’d fantasized about. A lot.

  God, he bet she gave great head.

  She approached everything in life with passion. Most of the time her passion was misdirected and exasperating, but when she applied herself to something, it was a whole-hearted effort.

  He repositioned her as the pressure in his cock became excruciating. She wiggled back and he groaned. “Jesus, Bella.”

  Yeah. He shouldn’t have spoken. Words could shatter the spell.

  She pulled away and gazed at him, her eyes luminous and damp. “Oh my God,” she said. “What are we doing?” She wriggled against him in an attempt to escape. He did not allow it.

  “I should think that was obvious.”

  “Seriously Holt. Seriously?” She wriggled again. He tightened his hold. A part of him ached at the fact she wanted to slip away. Another part of him really enjoyed the wriggling.

  “I’m dead serious, Bella.”

  “This isn�
�t a good idea.” She stopped resisting, but her chest rose and fell a bit too rapidly, indicating her internal distress. “You? Me? Like this?”

  “Why not? That was a phenomenal first kiss. Can you imagine what the rest of it could be like?”

  She stilled and stared at him. Her lips worked as she thought through the scenario. And goddamn, it was hot watching her think that through. When he saw that telltale flicker, when rational thought began to wedge its way in, he decided to push it.

  Why the fuck not?

  She’d been wild and inflamed in his arms. Clearly she felt something other than disgust for him. If there was even so much as a hint of attraction lurking in her breast, he would find it. Stroke it. Seduce it.

  He could not let this go.

  Not now that he’d tasted her.

  “I want to fuck you, Bella.” This he whispered, caressing her breast and thumbing a nipple. It was hard, that nipple. Swollen and tender. “I want to make love to you. I want to make you come. I want you screaming in pleasure. Clenching my cock with your cunt.” When she didn’t pull away, when her eyes widened and her beautiful lips parted and she whimpered a little in her throat, he tightened his hold on that tender crest.

  “But I’m not… You can’t… I don’t…”

  “Hush.”

  God preserve him from thinking women. He didn’t want her thinking. Didn’t need her thinking. Couldn’t bear to lose the ground he’d gained.

  He dipped his head and put his mouth around her other nipple, manipulating one in his tight grasp while he sucked on the other through her shirt. This time when she wriggled, it was to get closer, to urge him on. She probably didn’t even realize her sharp nails were scoring his skull.

  He didn’t give a shit. She could draw blood if she wanted to. As long and she let him continue.

  To that end, he skated his other hand down her flank and over her thigh. And then, ever so smoothly, between her legs. She winced as he brushed against that heated crease. He pressed harder, imagining he felt a dampness pooling there.

  Hunger churned in his gut. His pulse pounded in his cock. He flicked open the snap of her jeans and stroked her soft belly, then slipped beneath the band of her panties.

  Thunder roared in his ears as he found her nest. Yeah, it was a tight fit, wedged into her jeans as he was, but a man needed to make the most of every situation. He covered her clit with three fingers and massaged her with tiny, restricted arcs as he relentlessly worked her nipples.

  Her breathing devolved into gasps, and then hard pants. “Holt,” she panted, grabbing hold of his ears. “Holt. Holt. Holt!”

  He didn’t need that gush of cream to tell him she’d come. Or the rigid spasms of her body. Or her assiduous grasp on his ears. The tone of her voice—a tone he’d never heard before, a low panicked hum, marking her complete loss of control—was plenty.

  God, he loved that tone.

  He wanted to hear it again. And again.

  Preferably with his cock buried deep in her body.

  He liked making her lose control.

  What he did not like was that she sprang from his lap almost as soon as she recovered herself. She took him at unawares, or he’d never have let her go.

  She turned away from him, though he could see her clearly in the reflection of the windows, and fastened her jeans and rearranged her shirt. No matter how she rearranged that shirt, the wet spot where he had suckled her nipple as she came, the evidence of her passion, was still clearly visible.

  She sucked in a deep breath. Then whirled around to face him.

  His mood plummeted. Hell. He knew that look.

  When she opened her mouth, he knew what she’d say.

  “That shouldn’t have happened.”

  The fuck.

  The hell.

  No way.

  She was not going to deny this. He was not going to allow her to retreat back into that hard, impenetrable Bella-shell, the armor she wore to keep everyone and everything at bay.

  He stood and faced her down, matching her stubbornness with his own brand. “Wrong.” Her eyes flared. Her nostrils pinched as he countermanded her announcement. He stepped closer. “It should have happened a long, long time ago.”

  Chapter Three

  Bella stared at Holt. Just stared. It was all she could manage. Her body was still aquiver, weeping from his gentle touch, and aching for more, but her mind rebelled.

  Her instinct for self-preservation screamed “No!”

  He was a dangerous guy. Far more dangerous than any of the men she’d ever dated. Or slept with. And not just because of the depth of her seething attraction to him. Not just because she’d secretly wanted him for years.

  She knew him, and knew him well. It was no secret, what he was into. And she wasn’t his type. In a big way.

  Not that she was strictly vanilla. She wasn’t. A little kink could really spice up a relationship…or a date. But Holt was a hard-core Dom. He went to clubs. Tied women up for fun. Kept “pets.”

  There was no way she could ever be one of those women. No way.

  The very thought horrified her.

  She was a strong, independent woman. She stood on her own two feet. Answered to no one.

  Needed no one.

  She certainly didn’t need him.

  Wanting him—well, that was another issue entirely. She had always been drawn to him, even as she threw invectives at his tousled head. She would always fantasize about him. Always ache for him. Even when she was old and grey.

  And single.

  Living with her twenty cats.

  But she would never be one of his women. She knew the kind of woman he craved.

  She would never become that.

  He stepped even closer and she stepped back, holding out a hand as though it could stave off his relentless advance. “This isn’t going to work. Holt.”

  To her relief, he stopped just before he reached her, though he stood close. Close enough for her to feel the sizzle of his energy, the waves of his heat.

  “Isn’t it?” He quirked a brow. “It seemed to work just fine a moment ago. In fact, I didn’t have to do too much to have you coming like a wildcat.”

  She frowned. “I did not come like a wildcat.”

  He lifted his hair, exposing the long, tanned column of his neck. She tried not to fixate on the long, silky locks, now that she knew how they felt sifting through her fingers. “Would you like to see my scars?” He chuckled. “I think you drew blood.”

  Before she could stop herself, she glanced down at her fingernails, just to check. No. No blood.

  “Tell me you didn’t like that Bella. Tell me you didn’t enjoy any of that at all, and I’ll drop this, right here and now.”

  She glared at him. Opened her mouth to do just that, but something stayed her tongue. Her soul howled in denial and the words, “I didn’t enjoy that” just would not come out.

  It was a lie and she knew it.

  Instead, she turned her back on him. “That’s not the point.”

  His chuckle rumbled through her and she realized he’d come up behind her. She winced as he set his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back against him. His warmth tempted her, but she refused to relax. She refused to lean in. Give an inch. “I think it’s exactly the point.” He eased her hair off her neck and set his mouth to her nape.

  Ribbons of delight scoured her like a lash. She couldn’t help tipping her head to the side, but only a little because she didn’t want to encourage him. She didn’t dare.

  “I’ve wanted you for a long time Bella. Thought about you. Imagined kissing you. Holding you. Touching you like this.” He cupped her breasts. Squeezed gently. Gently, yes, but her sensitized nipples still tightened.

  His warm mouth traveled to the crook of her neck. She shivered. Sighed. “There’s something between us. You can’t deny it.”

  “I-I c-can.”

  He grunted a little laugh. She heard the thread of frustration in his tone, but something el
se as well. Something she didn’t recognize. “I know you can, Bella, sweet. You can deny it until you’re blue in the face. But your body knows the truth.”

  His fingers tightened over her nipples. Turned into a pinch. A tug. And her knees threatened to collapse. Her body liquefied. Dampness swelled between her legs. Her stupid clit thrummed in tandem with her thudding pulse.

  “Damn it, Holt. It just wouldn’t work between us. I… You… Shit.” It was all she could manage, because he was wreaking havoc on her body and mind. He excelled at havoc. She wrenched away and whirled on him. “I won’t be one of your…pets.”

  She tried not to spit the word, but that’s how it came out.

  “Is that what you think I want?”

  “It’s what you like, isn’t it? To bully women? To boss them around and make them do what you want? I’m not like that Holt, in case you hadn’t noticed—”

  “I had noticed.”