Tracing Holland (NSB Book 2) (19 page)

“You know, I could watch you think for
hours. It’s fascinating,” she observes suddenly, and I feel the slightest crack
of a smile spread across my lips.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Which is probably a good thing
because that’s pretty much all I get in these conversations.”

My smile widens into a grin, and I
finally dare a look back at her. Her own eyes are alive with humor, and I
actually suck in my breath at the effect of her light on my scarred soul.

“I just gave you an entire paragraph.
That was a full-on legitimate speech.”

“Yep.” She drops the simple word
between us for effect, and this time I actually laugh.

“Yep,” I echo, sliding my arm around
her. It was the right move, and I love how effortlessly she settles against me.

“Hey, Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“I have one more secret.”

“What’s that?”

She glances up at me. “You should know
that I’m going to be taking your newfound virginity as soon as we get to Philly.”

Philadelphia,
Pennsylvania

September
23-27

I’m at
her door the second we receive our room assignments from Kenneth. I barely even
drop my hand from knocking.

“Thank god,” Holland breathes, pulling me inside and pushing
me up against the solid wood.

We attack each other with a hunger that’s been building
since that first longing glance, the first time our bodies committed to what
our brains would fight for days.

My shirt is on the floor before I even realize it’s moving
,
my jeans unbuttoned as we maneuver toward the bed. Sixteen
months. Her mouth is tangling all coherent thoughts in my head, blurring them
into a blinding white light as her hands slide over me, forcing my body to
surrender to her every command. It’s hers, every muscle, every nerve, and when
we finally make it to the bed, I can’t help but wonder how I managed to stop
this from happening so many times. I don’t know if I should admire or skewer
myself for the lunacy.

“You’re in your head again,” she warns. “Stop thinking.”

I smile against her lips and let her shove me down. She tugs
at my jeans, and I help kick them off before flipping her over to return the
favor. She grins as I work at her straps and clasps,
then
pulls me back to her once we’re both free of the final barriers.

Our kisses are more fervent now, more urgent in their need
to connect us in the impossible. We know we can’t get close enough, not like
this, but it doesn’t stop us from trying.

“Damn, you’re beautiful. Perfect,” I observe, suddenly
pulling back and gazing down at the goddess beneath me.

“Not as beautiful as we are together,” she returns, lacing
her fingers with mine and kissing them.

My heart is ready to explode, along with every other inch of
me if I don’t do something soon, and I move back to meet her mouth. She hasn’t
let go of my hand, and I push it above her head, clasped firmly in mine. I won’t
let go this time. I hold on, even as my other hand freely explores her
incredible body.

She clenches her eyes shut as my fingers move over her,
gently at first
,
then more deliberate as I read her
reactions. Her slight groan sends my own blood searing through me, and when she
arches to receive my touch, the fire nearly consumes me. I need this woman. I
need to be inside her, to intertwine my essence with hers. I need…

I freeze.

For one minute and forty-seven seconds, I was with Holland
Drake. For one minute and forty-seven seconds, I didn’t think about Elena
Barrett Craven.

 
“Luke? Luke,
what is it?”

Holland’s staring up at me, her beautiful eyes…I blink,
completely paralyzed. I’m still on top of her, still present, still desperate
for her, but suddenly, I’m somewhere else too. I don’t know where, just that my
body wants to do something that’s tearing my brain apart.

“Luke. Hey!”

I try to shake off whatever is happening and stare back down
at Holland. She doesn’t seem angry, just concerned.

“I’m sorry, I…” Words start to come out. I hope they make
sense. They’re…Elena. I can’t even think now. Her face has occupied every
recess of my head. Elena…oh god, the guilt. The self-hatred. The anger. It all
comes rushing back. I’m about to betray her. But it’s not a betrayal, is it? It
can’t be forever, right?

Holland startles me out of my torment with a gentle push to
the side. She guides me back to the bed, propping herself up beside me, gazing
into my eyes. She doesn’t say anything as she studies my face, tracing my
chest, my cheek,
my
lips. I close my
eyes,
trying to put this moment back together, reclaim some
of the sudden chaos.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, unable to look at her. “I don’t know
what’s wrong with me. It’s…” I can’t finish, and am grateful I don’t have to.

“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” she guesses, and I
glance over at her again.

I feel like shit. I don’t even know how to start sorting
through all the reasons why. “I want you, Holland. I want you so badly, I
just…I don’t know. I don’t understand what’s wrong with me.”

She sighs and settles onto the sheets, tucking herself
against my side. Her hand climbs my chest, up my neck, and cups my face, gently
stroking my cheek. I close my eyes again, allowing every nerve she triggers to react
to her touch.

“Tell me about her,” Holland murmurs, still running her
fingers in a dizzying pattern of chills over my skin.

“Elena?” I ask in surprise.

She turns my face toward hers and gives me a soft, but
lingering, kiss. “Yes. Tell me about Elena.”

I know I don’t deserve this woman and I can’t imagine ever
denying her anything again. I swallow hard and stare back at the ceiling.

“Elena was…I don’t know how to describe it. A ray of
sunshine, I guess, but not the kind people mean when they say that. Not the
easy kind.”

I stare off as I fight to explain. “You know how on a really
sunny day you can look at a full shade tree in the distance and see a few
streams of light piercing the gaps in the leaves? That was Elena. She was the
ray of sunshine that fought its way through the darkness, through the gaps.”

I quiet, haunted by my description, but Holland prevents any
need for more when her lips meet mine. I reach up and touch her hair, pushing
it from her face as our kiss intensifies.

“I love that you still love her,” she breathes. “I love that
you let your love for her transform you.”

My soul is bursting, so full of emotion that I’m still lost
when she moves on top of me. Holland takes my breath away as she claims me,
reminding me that while Elena is in my head, she’s here too, intent on carving
out a piece of my heart. But she already has it. God, she has so much of it, I
just don’t know how to give it over to her.

“You tell me when to stop,” she whispers, fighting for our
connection again. My heart thuds against my sore ribs, my body reacting exactly
how she wants it to as she takes it hostage. It is hers, every inch of it, and
I can’t breathe as she pushes for more, escalating her seduction to a feverish
intensity. I reach for her, intent on taking over, but she stops me with a
greedy kiss, locking my arms against the mattress.

“No, you’re mine right now,” she directs, pressing me into
the sheets. Her hands, her skin, her eyes, she’s totally captured me, and I
doubt I could have moved right then even if I wanted to disobey her, but I
don’t dream of it. She owns me in that moment, and I suck in my breath at the
power she has over me. She seems to be losing herself too as she grabs the
condom from the nightstand, and I’m shocked that there is nothing in me that
stops our progress this time. There’s no protest, no devastating explanations.
Just anticipation, hope.

Unbearable fire.

She kisses me again, hungry, inviting, and finally lets me
hold onto her as she slides into perfect union with me. I’m amazed at how we
fit, two halves forming a whole, two imperfections transforming into a
beautiful masterpiece.

“It’s ok, Luke. It’s ok to feel something good,” she
breathes. “It’s ok to let go.”

Spellbound, any lingering thoughts dissolve when the white
light returns, blistering through my body and exploding the darkness of my
head. But she has no mercy, she doesn’t stop, and I love every beautiful
harmony that escapes her in the next few moments, evidence that she’s connected
too, that she is satisfied with us, with the final testimony of what we do to
each other. That the connection of mind, body, and soul has only begun,
stranding us with a new, undeniable addiction to each other.

Sixteen months. Sixteen months erased in sixteen minutes.

∞∞∞

“So
that happened,” Holland sighs, turning towards me.

I match her grin. “It did.”

“You know, you weren’t nearly as bad as I thought you’d be.”

My eyes widen in disbelief. “What?” I cry.

She giggles and nestles against me. “I’m kidding! I think
with a little practice…”

“Oh, shut up. I can tell when a woman’s faking it,” I bark,
and she laughs.

She becomes serious as she takes my hand and kisses my
fingers. “Luke, I know how hard that was for you.
The significance
of this moment.
I can’t tell you how happy I am right now that I got to
share it with you. I don’t take it lightly.”

I close my eyes and draw in a deep breath, reminded yet
again how much I don’t deserve this woman but am certainly going to fight to
try.

“Do you know how much I wish I could say she was my last?
That you were the first since Elena?” I confess quietly, opening my eyes again
to meet her compassionate gaze. “But she wasn’t, Holland. She wasn’t even in
the last twenty probably. We’d degraded way before her death, and then
afterwards, I completely self-destructed. I don’t even know what happened those
first couple months, only that there were lots of girls and substances to keep
me numb. And then, I just stopped living altogether. Over a year of complete
darkness.”

She squeezes my hand. “You’re not that person anymore.”

“I’m trying not to be anyway.”

“Exactly. Which means you’re not.”

I grin and adjust so I can wrap my arms around her and hold
her against me.

“Hey, Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“You know I was kidding, right? That was amazing. You are
amazing.”

“Wait until I’m back in full form.”

She laughs and twists to face me. “Interesting… And how long
will that take?”

I shrug with a grin. “I don’t know. Depends how much
practice I get.”

I love her look as she studies me. “Really…well, we don’t
have a show for four days. Think the others would miss us?”

“Pretty sure Wes would,” I tease, and she flinches.

“Yeah, true…how are you feeling, anyway?” she asks, her eyes
changing as she traces the bruise on my ribs. “I was afraid I was hurting you.
This one looks pretty bad.”

“That’s funny, because I was loving the fact that I didn’t
feel it for a brief moment. You’re a great doctor.”

She laughs and swats at my arm. “For masking pain with sex? Pretty
sure they have another name for that.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, whatever. You know I didn’t mean that.”

“No, but I
gotta
say, as much as I
hate to admit this, because what you and Wes did was totally immature and
stupid, badass Luke is pretty damn hot. I can’t believe you took a punch and
fought for me.”

I laugh and shake my head. “It’s not like Wes really gave me
a choice.”

“Who swung first?”

“This feels like a trick question.”

“It’s not! I just want to know.”

I sigh. “I’m pretty sure I did.”

“Pretty sure?”

“It happened really fast. I don’t know.”

“Has it been sixteen months since your last fight too?”

I glance at her in amused disbelief, and she returns a shy
smile.

“What? Has it?”

“I have no clue. Probably not,” I laugh.

“How can you not know?” she argues, crinkling her nose in an
adorable scowl.

“It’s not like I keep a diary of this stuff!” I cry in
exasperation.

“You should. It’s fascinating.”

“Fascinating?”

“So when guys fight, do you actually do the whole ‘I’m
gonna
cut you!’ ‘No, I’m
gonna
cut you, bitch!’ thing first or what? Like, do you
try to work it out with empty threats before the fists fly?”

I shake my head with a grin and rub my eyes. “Oh my god,
you’re relentless.”

“So that’s a no?”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure Wes did call me a bitch.”

“What? No…really?”

I groan. “Can we please not talk about this anymore?”

“Ok, fine! Just one more question.”

I sigh and roll my eyes. “Fine, what?”

“I get the whole macho testosterone thing, but did it ever
occur to you that maybe throwing punches isn’t the best choice for a guy who
makes his living playing guitar?”

I laugh and wrestle her against the sheets, responding with
a kiss that eliminates any lingering questions.

∞∞∞

Holland
and I have pretty much decided to test our espionage skills and figure out a
way to spend the next four days in this hotel room when I get a text from
Callie that uproots my world yet again.

“Shit,” I mutter, staring at my phone in disbelief as I
balance on the edge of the bed.

“What is it?” Holland asks, coming up behind me and resting
her chin on my shoulder.

I rub my hand over my face. “It’s Casey this time…Dammit!” I
turn and give her a quick kiss before rising to collect my clothes. “I have to
go.”