Going Hard: Boys of Fall (8 page)

Flashes of their night together hit her. Greedy hands on supple skin. Dammit, her nipples perked again. What the hell was up with that? Just thinking about Rafe without a shirt had her on edge.

She refilled her glass of wine and poured another for him.

He seemed to be emptying his glass as quickly as she was. Because of the heat of the day? Or because his mouth was as dry as her own?

She rolled onto her knees and packed away the leftovers onto the chiller packs at the bottom of the basket. Mrs. Martinez was ever the organized soul, just like her son.

“Cookie?”

His nostrils flared, but he said nothing. Instead, he drained his glass.

“What the hell is your problem, Rafe? It’s a gorgeous day and you’re sitting there seething about something or other. What did I do this time?”

“Nothing.”

“Then would you please pull out that tree branch from your ass and relax? You are harshing my buzz again big time.”

“I’m terribly sorry. All you care about are bars and clubs. I thought this would be a nice change of pace.”

“For me or for you?”

He frowned.

She stood. “You don’t need to watch after me. I can take care of myself.”

“Really? I seem to remember a pair of handcuffs in your immediate past.”

“Nothing wrong with a pair of handcuffs, Rafe.”

His jaw snapped shut. “That is not what I meant.”

“Of course it isn’t. You would have to have an imagination to think about using a pair of cuffs on a woman.”

He rolled to his feet fast. Superfast. Holy crap.

She stumbled back and he grabbed her. “Be careful.”

She shook off his hands. “I’m tired of being careful. Don’t you get it? I’ve been careful every damn day of my life whether I wanted to be or not. Between my brothers and you freaking guys on the team, I never had a chance to have fun.”

He reeled back. “That’s not true.”

“Oh really? I’ve always been Wade or Colt’s little sister, who needs to be protected. Guess what?” She opened her arms. “I’m a full-grown woman and I don’t need protection!”

She was so freaking tired of safety.

She twisted her arm behind her back and tugged at the bow of her bikini top.

He frowned. His eyebrows were going to be permanently trapped in that position. “What are you doing?”

The strings loosened and the cups of her bikini dangled over her nipples. The light breeze caressed every inch. God, it was freeing. She whipped her top over her head and tossed it in Rafe’s shocked face.

“What now, Rafael?”

7

R
afael
. Why had she started calling him that again? Was she trying to remind him in spectacular fashion of all the days she’d thrown his full name in his face as a teenager, and made him think all kinds of inappropriate thoughts about his best buddy’s much younger sister?

She’d been fourteen to his eighteen, for God’s sake. For a little while, she’d been thirteen. Full of sass and snark and everything else that had made him want to put her in her place—beneath him.

But she’d been too young. He’d always had his principles. Just like he did right now.

Charli had asked him for help on Wade’s behalf, not to have sex with his obviously revving-hard sister-in-law.

But now she was standing in front of him, her perfect body on display, and all he could hear in his head was her saying his full name, over and over, while he slammed into her again and again and made her scream.

“Hol, what are you doing?”

He was not going to look at the bikini now snagged on the toe of his sneakers.

“Hmm, not certain, but pretty sure this is called undressing.” She shucked her cutoffs and tossed them aside, then hooked her thumb in the knot on her hip.

He should tell her no.
Don’t do it
. She might catch a chill, or an indecency charge, or find herself with an extremely hard dick trying to make a home between her creamy thighs.

Yeah, the last one was practically a certainty at this point.

But her fingers were on the move, tugging on the silky fabric that was hiding her from his gaze.

And then it wasn’t there anymore, and he couldn’t breathe thanks to the fist that had reached right into his chest and stopped his heart.

She was gorgeous.

He’d seen her naked before, of course, but not like this. That had been in the dark, shadows cloaking every part of her that he’d been so hungry to devour with his eyes. Learning her with his mouth and hands hadn’t begun to take off the edge created by his need to see.

Now he could take in every stunning detail, including the ones that were new.

Like the tiny words tattooed right above her pubic bone that he’d somehow missed before, probably because he’d tried so hard to focus on her face. Well, screw that.

He was focusing on the rest of her right now, and her tattoo said in script
lucky you
.

He choked out a laugh. “Really, Hol?”

She scowled at him and reached up to cover her magnificent tits with her arm. Her other hand cradled her crotch. “You’re laughing at me.”

“No.” He sobered instantly. “I would never. I couldn’t.” Ignoring every warning bell clanging in his brain, he stepped forward to trace the script words so freaking low on her belly. “Lucky you, huh?” he murmured, raising his gaze to hers. “Not gonna argue with that.”

“It’s temporary. I don’t have any real tattoos. Yet. Well, you can see that, can’t you?” She bit her lower lip. “Fake it until you make it, right? So I’m pretending I have confidence.”

“How’s that working out for you?”

“Gotta say it seemed easier when I didn’t feel a breeze up my ass crack.”

He chuckled and reached up to cup her chin, lifting until their eyes were close to level. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, Hollie Bennett.”

Shuddering, she held his glance. “You don’t get out much, do ya, Martinez?”

Another dig, but funny how much less it stung when she was offering him…well, everything. Despite her reasons for initiating things, he couldn’t deny being flattered. Touched.

Oh, and horny as fucking hell and nearly drowning in want.

For her. For Hollie. Always Hollie.

“I’m not a virgin. I’ve had a few lovers. All were lovely.”

“Pfft. Yeah, okay. I liked it better when I could pretend you were a sexless shut-in.”

Her annoyance made him chuckle again as he stroked his thumb along the pulse thrumming so strongly in her throat. “Drop your arms, Hol. Let me see you in the sunlight.”

She inhaled and obliged him, turning her toes into the grass. That was the only tell of her nerves, other than the absolute terror in her huge blue eyes.

Eyes he’d happily swim in for the rest of his life without moving from this very spot.

He shifted, barely resisting the urge to adjust his hard-on. All right, so he’d save the poetry for after he’d worked out this frustration.

“Beautiful,” he repeated, letting his gaze wander from her flushed cheeks to her freckled pale shoulders. Sunblock. She needed more sunblock. Skin that delicate couldn’t handle the sun. And Jesus, imagining that creamy softness sliding against the darker tones of his own skin nearly had him busting out of his pants.

Keep it together, man. Try not to come in your pants like the fumbling guy she already thinks you are.

His gaze skimmed down her arms, and he studied each of the freckles there too. Some large, some as tiny as the drops of sweat clinging to the tops of her breasts.

Her breasts. God. He should be getting closer to used to them by now. He’d seen them a couple times, but it didn’t seem to matter. Their innocent swells capped by those dusky pink nipples that seemed to grow and tighten under his focus, were his undoing every damn time.

He made himself keep going, though he wouldn’t have minded fixating on those twin mounds of perfection for a good long while.

Oh, but he would. He would. Just not quite yet.

He continued on to her narrow waist, so at odds with her full ass. And lower to the dark tuft of hair over her slit, those wispy curls a more effective tease than if she’d been bare. He didn’t want her bare. He wanted to have to work for the secrets she kept beneath, under those sexy curls he intended to tug on with his teeth to make her squirm.

It wasn’t right. None of this was right. He should’ve known what a private meeting alone would lead to.

Maybe he had, and that part of him just didn’t care. If it hadn’t cared when he’d texted her about a picnic, it definitely didn’t now.

Perhaps his conscience would reemerge once he’d gotten off. Either way, he was glad to have a respite from the voice that always reminded him so relentlessly about all the ways he was fucking things up.

He wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Not today.

“Gorgeous, Hol.”

Her throat worked but she didn’t say anything. A first.

There would be more, for both of them.

“Turn around, baby,” he said huskily, only realizing he’d used the term of endearment when her pupils flared. She obliged, her feet sliding a little in the dewy grass. Or maybe that was just nerves.

Funny, he wasn’t nervous anymore. Not even a little.

It felt as if he’d been meant to be in this position with her all along. He’d fought it so hard, but ultimately, he was right where he wanted to be. Even if he changed his mind about that tomorrow, now he was going to savor. Relish every damn second.

She clasped her hands in front of her and he made himself take the same visual trip over her back as he’d done with her front. More freckles, another expanse of exquisite pale skin. That dip in her spine, the dimples right above her ass. Those perfect cheeks, so round and bitable.

He fucking wanted to bite her ass. To leave marks there that she’d feel every time she sat down for the next two days.

Moving closer, he gripped her hips and spoke against her hair. She smelled like cocoa butter, reminding him of summer days and sunshine and all the freedom he’d so rarely let himself enjoy. “Your sexy-as-hell behind gives me very bad ideas.”

If he’d expected nerves or reticence, she wasn’t delivering. “Really? Something kinky?” Pure delight shaded her voice. “I’m game. Just give me a pillow to bite.”

“Jesus, Hol.” Not laughing was an impossibility. “I meant more like me biting you. But if you have something in mind…”

Yeah, that wasn’t him talking. Where exactly had he summoned that sly sexual tone? And she was responding, all right, rubbing back against him as if she was raring to go.

He had to find out.

Without warning, he slipped his hand between her thighs.

She braced against him then relaxed as he spread his fingers over her soft slit. Wet warmth clung to his palm as he slid one finger between her folds to tease her clit. The stiff bud pulsed and he pressed inward, circling with enough pressure that she rose up on her toes. Her gasp stilled his hand, but she wasn’t having any of that. She reached down to guide him just the way she liked, slowly at first then with growing intensity until she was soaking his hand.

Goddamn, she was so ready, making little mewling noises that were more suited to a darkened bedroom than the center of a sunny backyard.

Fuck, they were out in her yard in the middle of the day. Anyone could come upon them and see her, so beautifully, on display.

“Not yet,” he breathed against her ear, giving her one last rub. “We didn’t finish eating yet.”

Her groan would’ve made him laugh if he hadn’t been in pain. “If you’re hungry, I can give you some directions to a needy location…” She took a breath. “Due south.”

It was his turn to groan as he drew his hand from her and turned her toward him with his other hand. “I promised to feed you.”

While she glared, he tugged her back to the blanket and pulled her down beside him. He took off his shirt and pulled it over her head, making her sputter.

“My parents are gone. We’re all alone. Clothes aren’t necessary.”

“I want to see your perfect tits stretching against my shirt while I feed you.”

Eyes wide, she fell silent.

He rooted through the picnic basket and came out with a sprig of fat red grapes. Knowing full well which hand he was using, he broke off a few and set them on his thigh, then reached for the bottle of wine. He held the grapes over the edge of the blanket and splashed some wine on the fruit before he shifted back to Hollie. Her full lips were damp and trembling, so he traced the bottom one with a grape. “Open up for me, belleza.”

She did as he asked, biting into the grape. Once she’d chewed and swallowed, he slipped his finger inside, nearly shuddering at the wet flick of her tongue against his skin. “Tastes good?”

She nodded, and he knew she understood he wasn’t just referring to the fruit.

“Delicious.” She licked her lips and he shifted, trying futilely to ease the ache below his waist. “What does belleza mean?”

“Beauty.”

She glanced away but he gripped her chin and brought her attention back front and center. “Don’t look away when I tell you the truth.”

“Just not used to hearing it.”

“Well, time we rectify that.” He leaned closer and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I love looking at your hard nipples in my shirt. I bet they smell like me now.”

She took a ragged breath. “Stupid me, thinking you needed Spanish to talk dirty.”

He smiled and pulled off another couple of grapes, then popped them into his mouth. She tracked every movement as he chewed and swallowed, unconsciously tugging at the hem of his shirt. With the way she was sitting, the material barely covered her pussy. Her delicate dark hair and pink flesh were almost hidden by the shadows but he couldn’t drag his attention away.

She pulled again and he lost his view.

“Leave it,” he commanded. “Dios mio, me vuelvas loca.”

She took off her glasses and set them aside, then blinked up at him. “W-what does that mean?”

He looked up at her, belatedly hearing himself. He never spoke Spanish to anyone but his mother and a few friends and relatives back home in Juarez, but apparently she’d shaken the habit loose again. “My God, you drive me crazy,” he said, voice low.

“You too. I mean, you drive me crazy too.” She shimmied closer on the blanket, pushing aside the picnic basket. Before he could guess her intention, she laid a hand on his chest. “Your body is insane.”

He hissed from the coolness of her hand on his flame-hot skin. Then she slid it lower and gave him a look under her lashes. “Will you teach me some Spanish, Rafael?”

Her nails trailed lower, lower, and Christ, his dick might as well have been on a spring. It bobbed against the placket of his pants, threatening to tear right through. He’d hoped to keep things on a semi-reasonable level until they got into the water, just in case her brothers stopped by. Assuming, of course, that he could tempt his little daredevil into the cold creek. But she never operated on his timetable.

And thank God for that.

“Like what?” he asked as she toyed with his belt.

She undid it and pulled it out of the loops, winding the supple leather through her hands. “Oh, hmm.” She looked up at him playfully, still caressing his belt. “How about ‘Fuck me hard’?”

He reached for the wine bottle, then reached for a handful of her hair, dragging her lips to the bottle. “Maybe, if you take a nice long drink first.”

She sealed her lips around the bottle, moving them up and down in a way that should’ve been hilarious or obscene. Instead he tipped up the bottle from the bottom, leaning forward to lick the drops that slid down her chin. “Cógeme fuerte.”

“Cógeme fuerte,” she echoed, setting aside the bottle and flicking her tongue around to catch any stray droplets. “Am I saying it correctly?”

Without waiting for him to answer, she kicked the remnants of their lunch out of the way and rolled onto her belly between his legs. She reached for his zipper and yanked it down, following the path with little kisses she trailed down his stiff length.

He fisted his hand in her hair to slow her down—he was the one who should be on his knees for her, not the other way around—but she took it as encouragement instead.

“God, yes. Pull my hair.” She shivered and wriggled on the blanket, causing his shirt to ride up her back. Christ. Her firm, bare ass tormented him, and the agony only got worse when she crossed her ankles and flexed her taut cheeks.

When she pried down his boxers and pulled him out, he didn’t offer an admonishment. More like a groan of fucking relief as her warm, wet mouth slid over the swollen tip. His hand tightened in her hair again, almost unintentionally, and she moaned around him, deeply enough that he pulled hard.

Her perfect ass bounced. And she purred in her throat, rippling around him as she sucked him inside.

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