Holding Strong

Slow, methodical, he slid one hand up her nape and into her hair, clenching just enough to hold her securely, keeping her right there against him.

That possessive embrace sent another thrill racing through her, turning her breath short and shallow, her heartbeat fast and furious.

With the other hand he shoved the door closed and turned the lock, then went one further and flipped the security latch. That all seemed so final that her knees trembled.

His hand in her hair tugged, tipping her head back and away to give his open mouth access to her throat, tasting her skin, sucking and licking down to her shoulder, then concentrating where her frantic pulse raced.

She couldn’t help but groan at the feel of his teeth, his hot tongue. “Denver...”

He kissed his way back up to her mouth.

So much heat suffused her, she felt light-headed. At the last second, she turned her head. “I need five minutes for a shower.”

That clever hand in her hair brought her face back around. “Later.” And then his mouth was on hers again, his tongue delving, consuming.

Making her forget herself.

She clutched at him, uncaring that she was a little worn from so much dancing, that she’d wanted this first time with him to be perfect.

His free hand went to her waist, kneading her before gliding up her ribs without quite touching her breast, back down past her hip to the curve of her backside. His big hand opened on her, cuddling, stroking her bottom, lifting her to her toes.

He was so big all over that she felt dwarfed next to him. He crowded her more, caging her against the wall as his hand teased back up her body.

When she made a soft sound of anticipation, he eased up, gently kissed the corner of her mouth, her jaw, then locked onto her gaze. Their breaths mingled as his fingers hooked in the V-neck of her shirt and stretchy lace bra, and tugged them both down until he’d freed one breast.

She felt the cooler air on her bared skin, her sensitive nipple. Low light filled the room from the bedside lamp she’d left on, but he didn’t look at her there.

Still with a hand in her hair, staring into her eyes with an intent expression, he cupped her.

Her lips parted; his gaze went heavy.

“Fuck, you feel good.”

Heart thundering, she closed her eyes as he drifted his thumb over her taut nipple.

“Look at me, Cherry.”

Oh, that husky voice. She got her eyes open, and it was so startling, seeing him like this, being the recipient of that golden-brown, predatory stare.

“I like it when you breathe hard,” he told her. “It does interesting things to you here.”

Here being the breast that he continued to fondle so carefully.

“All this soft flesh.” He finally looked down at her, made a rough sound and bent his head to draw her in.

Putting her head back against the wall, Cherry held her breath to smother a groan. From the moment she’d met him months ago, Denver had epitomized the elemental male.

As a heavyweight fighter, he was big and so incredibly strong, with amazing biceps, tight abs and thighs that made her breathless. All of the fighters at the rec center were big and brawny, but other than Gage, Denver was the biggest.

All of it honed strength.

He had confidence down to a fine art, but he never bullied. In fact, she’d witnessed his very big heart overflowing with kindness and generosity. She loved watching the men work with the at-risk neighborhood kids, but because of his size it always seemed more amazing to see Denver tussle with a child, coach a youth or instruct a high school kid.

He could break the average guy in two, but he tempered all that strength with gentle control. Such a turn-on.

With his sense of humor, he made her laugh as often as he made her sigh with lust. But when it came to those things that mattered to him, he had laser-beam focus.

Working with kids.

Supporting his friends.

Training for the sport he loved.

She so desperately wanted him to focus on her, too. But after what had felt like a great connection, their interest mutual, each of them flirting with the other, he’d suddenly cut her cold and she had no idea why.

If they weren’t to have a relationship, she at least had to have this—the intimate knowledge of him, a memory to hold, a fantasy for the dark, lonely nights.

“Stay with me, honey.” He took her mouth again, keeping her from giving a reply.

Stay with him? She was here, in the moment, 100 percent.

As he deepened the kiss more, he smoothed his hand down her back...and into her jeans and panties.

She went to her tiptoes in surprise.

He rumbled in appreciation at feeling her body go flush to his.

Finally freeing her hair, he lifted his mouth and melted her with his heated gaze. “You have the finest ass I have ever seen.” As he spoke, he worked his fingers lower, cupping one whole cheek.

“Um...” Still up on her toes, she glanced toward the bed.

“Soon,” he told her. “Once we’re there, I’m done for, and I want this first time to last.”

It could last forever if he’d let it. But of course she didn’t say that. Just getting him to this point had taken a lot of work.

Lightning seared the dark night, illuminating the room for two seconds, followed by a crash of thunder that rattled the window. She felt all that turbulence deep inside, making her head swim and her knees shake.

Keeping her trapped in his sights, Denver brought his free hand around and opened the snap on her jeans.

Cherry held her breath as the material loosened. He eased down the zipper with excruciating slowness, then slipped both hands into her jeans to work them down her thighs.

Being mostly bare from the waist down was startling enough, but when he went to one knee, her heart almost popped out of her chest. She staggered slightly before his hands gripped her hips.

Looking up at her, he said with concern, “You okay?”

Denver Lewis was on his knees in front of her and her jeans were down.

Not wanting him to stop, she bobbed her head. “Yes. Fine.” In a frenzy of need. Taut with expectation. Incapable of more than one-word replies—but otherwise fine and dandy.