SOPHIA
Finally, at the house! I shake my head to clear the lust from my brain as I get to the door. Dad gave me a key, but I’m nervous about using it. After all, I know someone is here, but I shake it off.
I’m going to be living here now, so I have to be able to recognize this amazing building as my own. And it is impressive; it's old, beautiful and overlooks Central Park. I turn the key and walk into the foyer.
Gunner said the place was huge, but apparently, his huge and my huge are two different things. This could be an apartment complex. I swallow and take a few steps forward, dragging my luggage behind me.
Where am I going again?
I come to a kitchen after a few false starts, and my mouth falls open. Oh, I’m so screwed. A gorgeous, tall man is in the kitchen drinking red wine from a glass … shirtless. Dark brown hair, tan skin, muscles that I want to touch …
Why are they all so attractive? Come on! Why can't he be ugly or have a weird eye or anything like that? His eyes flick to me, dark and smoldering. My heart stops, and my mouth goes dry as I stare at him. Because that’s all, I can do.
Being in the same room as him makes me aware of exactly how young and stupid I feel right now. The cut of his jaw, the soulful look in his eyes, the way he slowly sets the glass down without looking at it, not missing a beat while appraising me, sets a fire inside of me.
“Um … hi.” I don’t know if he even hears me.
He nods to me. I take another step forward. Wine suddenly sounds fantastic. No. No. A nap sounds fantastic. Rest is what I need. I swallow. “Do you know where I’m supposed to be staying? A loft or something?”
He nods, but his head cocks to the side. I lick across my lips. I need to sleep. No, I have to sleep. I need to forget everything I want to do with this man or Gunner before I’m with my dad again.
Because odds are we are all going to be hanging out together, I need to avoid thinking like this before I embarrass myself. I’m too young for any of them to take seriously. They’d just laugh if I even tried to flirt.
Gunner being hard was just … a coincidence. After all, I walked in on him when he looked like he was ready to do a whole lot more than work.
I take a deep breath, steel myself, and walk all the way into the kitchen. “I’m sorry. If you can show me, then I can get out of your hair.”
“Sophia.” He says finally.
His voice is low and sexy, like silk dragging across my body. I shiver and nod.
“I’m Holden.” He murmurs. “Go through there and the stairs to the loft area on the right.”
He points to the doorway without moving. I’m tempted to ask if he’s wearing clothes, but I don’t. Half because I hope he isn’t … and half because I’m a sane human who knows that it’s not any of my business.
I hurry up to the loft, start unpacking, then sit in the middle of my things. God, how am I even going to take care of this lust when I know my dad’s in the same house? I mean … I guess I was able to get myself off when I lived with mom.
It’s no different, right?
“Finding everything?”
I jump and nearly fall over. There’s Holden, wearing low-slung jeans that are unbuttoned and reveal the black boxers underneath. I want to lick the light trail of hair that goes from boxers to belly button.
It’s been eight months since I had sex. It’s been two since I actually took care of myself. Maybe I need to put the shower to work. If nothing else, it will buy me some privacy so I can fantasize without being all guilty.
Holden doesn’t apologize for scaring me. He just watches. I can see a million questions burning in his eyes, but I can also see something else. Something I feel. Heat, lust, blatant hunger.
I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Yeah. Everything is … is fine.”
“Anything I can help with at all?” He leans his head to the side. “A tour?”
“Maybe once I finish unpacking. I can handle this, but I’ll let you know if I need anything; thank you.”
He nods and walks away, just like that. I have a feeling Gunner would linger, so I appreciate that Holden allows me to have some privacy. I finish unpacking, get through a shower and drag on pajama shorts and a tank top.
I climb into the plush bed and take a deep breath. I need to sleep. I need to rest up so I can control all these stupid urges and keep my fantasies locked away. But sleep drags up nightmares of plane crashes, of Mom’s boyfriends shooting me wicked smiles.
Gasping, I roll out of bed and into a tangle of blankets that I can’t seem to escape. I whimper, then there are two hands pulling me from the sheets and against a warm body. I fight for a second, but he collars my wrists.
“Look at me.” My eyes lift to Holden’s. He nods once. “Take a deep breath.” I make myself swallow air and exhale. His thumb strokes the inside of my wrist. “Take another and tell me something you can feel. Tactile.”
“Your hands are rough,” I whisper.
He smirks and nods. I swallow. “The … the wood is cold.”
“Nightmares?” He guesses, continuing to stroke my wrists, along my palms, against my fingers. His touch is so soft, it sends little sparks of shivers through me. “I’m familiar with them.”
“It’s stupid. I don’t know why it bothers me so much.” I admit, swallowing. “I feel like a little girl sometimes.”
He shrugs. “Means you’ve lived through shit.”
“That’s one way to say it.” I try to smile. “But it’s fine. Just stuff I still need to work through.”
Holden looks at me for a long time, and I feel the air between us sizzle. When he reaches a hesitant hand for my cheek, I lean into his touch. His fingers slide into my hair, and he leans forward.
“Nightmares acclimate us to our fears so we can be better prepared for the situation in the future.” His low voice warms me.
When did I touch him? When did I put my hand on his shoulder, stroking down the firm muscle of his arm, over the tattoo the whole platoon has? Fuck, he’s my father’s friend. Why am I letting him touch me? Why do I want to touch him? This is insane.
“Does it work?” I ask.
He tips my chin up, and his nose brushes mine. “Occasionally.”
“And do they go away?” I lean towards him.
He’s a magnet, a promise, everything I need right now. Everything I’m tired of telling myself I don’t want. Because I want Holden. Safety, assurance, warmth rolls off him. I drag my teeth over my bottom lip. One kiss wouldn’t be terrible, would it? I could stop at one kiss.
“Some do.” His hand tightens in my hair, and he leans back. “Others linger.”
Of course, he’s not interested. He just wants to make sure I’m still alive because he’s friends with my dad. I look away and brush my hair behind my ear. “Well, thank you. I feel a little less ridiculous now.”
“I don’t.”
My eyes flick to his, and he catches my jaw, drags me towards him, and kisses me. His lips mold to mine, and the burn sizzles across my skin. My lips part when his tongue strokes along the line between them. I whimper and press myself against him.
His hand grips the back of my neck while his other hand strokes over my knee and up my thigh. I pant into his mouth as he starts another kiss, his tongue stroking against mine. Easing his way inside and taking his time like I belong to him. Everywhere he touches, licks, kisses, he claims.
I deepen the kiss as his hand strokes down my back, and he pulls me over his lap. I gasp at the hardness pressing on my cotton shorts and wrap my arms around Holden’s neck. He groans inside my mouth and thrusts up against me.
A door opens somewhere in the house, and I jump off him.
What the fuck did we just do? I put my hand to my mouth, look at Holden as he sucks his bottom lip with a sexy smirk that makes me eager to climb back on top of him and rub my fingers through his hair.
Which is the last thing I should do.
So I run to the bathroom, lock myself in and slide down the door. I still feel Holden across my skin, his fingers inching up the back of my thighs towards my ass, and dear god, I wanted him to toss me on the bed and show me the best remedy for nightmares.
“Holden?”
I don’t recognize that voice. I’m stuck in a house filled with men. Men like Holden and Gunner … and my dad.
My dad.
Because these are his friends, and they are my supervisors and I’m not going to move up in a company by sleeping my way to the top. So what happened with Holden is a one-time thing. No more kisses, no more worries, no more anything except general politeness.
I’m going to be good. I’ll be a good girl, oh a very good girl if Holden offers up his mouth again.
No.
Wrong direction.
I want to beat my head against the tile floor. Holden is gorgeous. Gunner was gorgeous. And I still have more to meet. My phone rings, and I reach for the door handle. My fingers wrap around it, but I lick across my bottom lip and listen to the annoying ringtone cycle through again.
Groaning, I open the door and crawl across the floor for my phone. I grab it from the charger, put it to my ear, and answer it. “Hello?”
“Hi, baby! How is everything? Are you settling in okay?”
“Yes, Daddy.” I adjust on my elbows and knees.
“No problems? Everything is to your liking?”
“Yes. I promise. Everything is great.” I smile, but the hair on the back of my neck raises. I glance over my shoulder and find Holden watching me, blatantly staring at my ass which I’m now realizing is up in the air in a very … sexual position. I flip around, so I’m sitting and swallow. “When will you be home? I was thinking we could do dinner?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. Order yourself a pizza or ask Holden what he would recommend. He likes the fancy food like you do. Sushi and … salads and things like that.”
“Dad, that’s not fancy. It’s healthy.”
“Yeah. Yeah.”
“Be home before I go to sleep, at least?”
“I plan on taking Saturday off to show you around.” He says as if that’s interchangeable. When I don’t answer, he sighs. “I’ll see what I can do, honey.”
“Please, Daddy.” My eyes are on Holden when I say it, and I don’t miss his smirk. “Soon?”
“Alright, honey. I’m sorry. I should have known that moving in with a bunch of guys is a lot to ask you to do alone. I’ll be home in an hour.”
“Thank you.” I hang up and watch Holden look me over, smile, and then head out. I cover my face with my hands. “Fuck.”