Dare Me(57)

“Holt.” I reach out and press my fingers to the warm skin of his back, trailing my fingernails over the wide span of skin between his broad shoulders. “What happened tonight? Everything was fine one second, then it wasn’t the next, and I’m not sure what the hell happened.”

“Nothing happened, Saige. Let it go,” he snaps.

“No,” I say defiantly. “If we can’t be honest with each other and talk about things, then this won’t work.”

He flips over quickly, startling me. “Well, if that isn’t the pot—”

“Stop!” I yell at him. “I know. I promised myself I would be honest with you about everything, including the nightmares. Be honest with me, Holt. What is going on?” I slide over closer to him. We’re both lying on our sides, face to face. I reach out, pressing my hand over his heart, yearning for his touch in return. “Talk to me. I dare you.” Fuck it. If he can use those words, so can I.

He sighs loudly and leans forward, pressing his forehead to mind. “I love you, Saige.” He stares into my eyes, looking for me to respond. I close my eyes and exhale slowly, letting those words sink in. I avoid responding, but I feel the weight of his words on my heart. I swallow hard and can hear my own heartbeat; it’s beating so fast.

He sighs disappointedly. “I know it’s too soon for you, Saige. But you wanted honesty, so there it is.” His voice is desperate. He’s clinging to hope that I’ll validate what he’s feeling and I want to, I so desperately want to, but I can’t. His lips hover next to mine, so close that I can feel the warmth of his breath as he speaks.

I’m at a loss for words. I knew it would eventually come to this, one of us admitting our feelings for the other, but I didn’t expect it here—now. “Is that what’s been bothering you?” I ask. “You’re in love with me?”

He rolls to his back and kicks the sheet off him. “Be careful what you ask, Saige. You might not like the answer.” He jumps up from the bed and disappears into the bathroom, the door closing behind him with a loud thud.

I follow him to the bathroom, where I twist my hair into a knot on top of my head and yank the glass shower door open. Holt is standing under the steady stream of water, his hand on the wall and his head dropped forward. I step into the shower and close the door behind me. As seconds go by and he doesn’t acknowledge me, I begin to shiver as the light mist of warm water hits my skin. I walk up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist, my fingers pressed against his hard abdominal muscles. I press my lips to the back of his shoulder and pepper him with soft kisses.

I pull him tighter to me, finally speaking. “Just because I can’t say it yet, doesn’t mean I don’t feel it,” I muster, giving him honesty. “In fact, I think I felt what you’re feeling first.” I can feel his back tense, and his head drops further forward. “Look at me,” I tell him and turn him around.

His eyes find mine as I hold his beautiful face in my hands. Water drips from his dark hair onto his pain-filled face as I lean in and kiss him.

He swallows hard. “Say it,” he whispers.

My heart is racing, and I try to form the words on my tongue, but I can’t. I press my lips to his, wanting him to feel what I can’t say. “Let me show you,” I whisper against his lips. My hands fall from his face to his shoulders and down his chest. I press a soft kiss to the firm plane of his chest where I can feel his heart beating just underneath.

His eyes never leave me as I explore every inch of his chest, finally falling to my knees in front of him. I can see his jaw muscles working as he fights back whatever he wants to say. Water runs in a small river down his abs into the short stock of dark hair just above his cock.

I reach for his firm erection, running my hand up and down his length, making him even harder. He moans at my touch. Pulling the soft head into my mouth, I run my tongue around it slowly, savoring the taste of him, while my right hand works the base of his cock simultaneously.

My sweet man comes unglued as I work him in my mouth. His legs tremble and his hands tighten into fists as he fights against his pleasure. Pulling himself free from my mouth, he reaches down and pulls me up by my arms. Shoving me against the glass shower wall, he reaches behind me, lifting me by my bottom.

“Let me show you,” he says, pressing himself into me. It’s fast and hard, and I yelp in shock at his sudden movement before he slows, using his mouth to kiss every inch of my face and neck and chest before he loses himself in me. In between every kiss, every lick, every touch, he tells me he loves me—and I believe him. I savor his touch and drink in his love, even if I’m unable to verbally express the same in return.

I come fast and hard with my arms wrapped around his neck. Every part of me is sated, and I rest my head on his shoulders. With two last thrusts, he finishes, filling me. I’ll never have enough of this man.

“I love you, Saige,” he whispers against my lips before setting me down, his eyes shifting from angry to compassionate. “And I’m going to show you again, and again, and again just how much I love you until you’re able to say it in return.”



I wake to find Holt in the living room area of our suite, balancing his laptop on his lap while sipping a cup of coffee. CNN is on the large-screen television in the background.

I clear my throat, drawing Holt’s attention to me. “Good morning.” I shield my eyes from the bright sun streaming through the large windows of the hotel room.