Divide (15 page)

Mick

With Holland asleep on my chest, I was both completely at ease and on high alert. I knew the next time the beast tried escaping would be worse, and with each occurrence, overpowering the rage would become more and more difficult. She’d done well this time, but tonight’s episode was only the beginning. She’d be flying off the handle with more frequency now that we were fully into the change, and I’d lose a little more of her each time.

All it would take was one time…one instance of Holland succumbing to the monster, and she’d be gone from me forever.

Her hair tickled my nose, and I leaned over to smell her without even realizing what I was doing until I’d done it. She smelled familiar, like home. She’d showered in my shower and used all of my products, so the shampoo
was
a familiar scent. But it was more than that. More than just the way her smell mingled with familiar soap and shampoo, Holland
felt
like home. She fit perfectly in the crook of my arm, and I never wanted to let go.

She murmured something in her sleep and I froze, not wanting her to wake up and put distance between us again. She wiggled around a bit, readjusting and crawling further into the space of my open arms.

The movie had been over for a while now, and the brand name for the player floated around on the screen. I’d waited long enough and should probably get her to bed; if she slept curled up in this cramped space on the couch all night she’d have a terrible kink in her neck come morning.

I slowly moved forward on the couch, cradling her in my arms, then stood as gracefully as I could, so as not to disturb her. She stirred, but didn’t quite wake up. I started for the stairs, turning off lights with my elbows as I went.

“…Nic Cage…” She mumbled the words that preceded and followed the actor’s name incoherently. I could imagine what she tried to ask, though, and I laughed quietly.

“Yes, Holland,” I whispered, “you were right about that.”

“Mmm.”

I shook my head and turned the corner into the master bedroom. Even while sound asleep, she was stubborn and determined to be right.

I placed her onto the bed as gently as I could, then tried to get the covers over her with her weight on top of them. She turned and looked at me with sleepy eyes barely open, her hand darting out and gripping my wrist.

“Stay with me.”

“What?” I froze. She was sleeping, the words mumbled and nearly incoherent. She must not have known what she asked of me. Or I misheard.

“Stay.”

Nope, that’s what I’d heard. I stared, unblinking.

“Don’t get any ideas, Mick, it’s not like that. I just don’t want to be alone, okay?”

I nodded, words failing me still, my mouth painfully dry.
Schmuck.

She curled into a ball and allowed me to cover her. I made my way to the other side of the bed, removed my boots, and stretched out atop the duvet. I could at least not cross any lines by sharing the same bedding with her at this point in our story. Right?

I pulled the decorative throw around me, frustrated by the fact that it either covered the top half of my body or the bottom half, but never both at the same time. I grabbed the remote by the bed and turned on the fireplace. My dad hadn’t made this place fancy, by any means, and he’d wanted it as rugged as rugged could be, but years of a woman’s presence—first my mom, then Ro’s mom later on—well, there were certain luxuries he’d given in to.

This California king was one of them, as well as the remote controlled fireplace at the foot of the bed, and for these things I was grateful. At least we’d rest well while we were here—the soft snoring coming from Holland was proof of that.

I crossed my arms behind my head and stared at the thin white canopy above us until my eyes were too heavy to keep open any longer. Lulled by the peaceful sound of her snoozing next to me, I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke to Holland’s arm slinking around my waist. I stilled, suddenly very alert and completely frozen in place. I didn’t know what to do; she must have readjusted in her sleep and if I woke her…well, if I woke her, she’d have been humiliated because she’d cuddled with me by accident.

Yeah, waking her up now would have been rude.
I’ll leave her there
…curled up beside me, one arm holding my waist, I’d leave her there. A gentlemanly decision, I told myself.

I stared up at the ceiling, wide eyed and—

Her hand twitched, then slid its way up my torso. I barely dared to breathe. Her fingertips grazed my chest, purposefully—she was awake and moving with intention or sleeping through a dream I wished I starred in.

And still, I lay there…unable to move or think or breathe.

She rested her hand in the crook of my shoulder, then nuzzled her face into my neck on the other side.

When her lips found my throat, kissing me gently with an open mouth, I squeezed my eyes shut.
She
wasn’t the one sleeping.
I
was. This obviously wasn’t real. Apparently I
did
get to star in a dream tonight. My own. My breath returned to somewhat normal once I realized that I could breathe without fear of waking this dream version of Holland.

Then she climbed on top of me, and all rational thought jumped out the window with my calm breathing. Her hair dangled in my face, and the scent of her dared me to open my eyes and look up at her. But there was no way the timid girl I’d seen cowering away from me earlier could possibly be climbing on top of me now, and if I opened my eyes, I risked shattering the dream. She’d been so afraid of me, of
herself
, there was no way she’d have acted like this if we were awake.

Her lips brushed slowly against mine, then she ran her tongue across my lower lip before nipping at it gently with her teeth.

“Mmm.”

“Did you just growl at me?”

I may have growled. Might have moaned. I didn’t know, couldn’t think past the fact that her lips hovered mere centimeters away from mine.

You’re dreaming, idiot. Just dreaming.

“Are you going to open your eyes?”

I squeezed them tighter.

Just a dream.
A damn good one, yes, but still a dream. Had to be.

“Fine,” she said, her voice more playful than I’d heard it since we met. “Have it your way.”

I didn’t have time to comment about the fact she was a figment of the best dream I’d ever had before her lips pressed to mine. I reached up reflexively and pulled her down tightly to my chest. Dream or not, it felt too good to have her in my arms again to ever let her go.

I opened my mouth to hers, letting our tongues fall into rhythm together.

She felt so real, so solid…I skimmed my hands down her back, halting when my fingertips connected with bare skin and lace instead of the jeans she’d gone to sleep in. I paused for a moment, unsure what to do with myself, when all I wanted to do was grip her tighter.

She must have been suffocating underneath all the down comforters and with the fireplace raging, so she’d removed her jeans at some point in the night.

Idiot. My hands rested on the near-naked curve of Holland’s ass, and all I could think was to question why she wasn’t wearing pants.

She drew back, and I opened my eyes to see her biting her lip. It was half-coy, half-timid, and one-hundred percent sexy. She slid down to the side of me, one leg still wrapped around my midsection, and I ran a hand down her smooth thigh. I wrapped my fingers behind her knee and turned toward her. I pulled her close and lined my body up to match the length of hers, pressing one leg up toward her center. She tightened her grip with the leg draping over me, and reached both hands up, settling them at the base of my neck.

I could have kissed her for hours. Hell, I could have done much more with her, but something nagged at the back of my mind. Something that wouldn’t let me fully lose myself with this beautiful, broken girl.

She pressed her fingers into my neck, gripping me closer, and pushed her chest up against mine. With one hand, she felt her way down the length of my torso and up beneath my shirt. As her fingertips grazed the bare skin of my side, chills broke out across my body and I inhaled a quick breath. She was trying to undo me.

And I was going to let her.

That digitally created image of her flashed into the forefront of my mind, blocking any thoughts of
this
Holland and the way her lips currently danced along the length of my throat, replacing it with the threat of what she’d look like forever trapped in statue form. Like a splash of arctic water, the visualization iced up any warmth I’d gained from her
very real
body pressed against mine.

I pushed the image away—I’d deal with it later—but behind my eyelids, all I could see was that blasted threat. I’d forgotten all about its discovery after the episode with Holland downstairs, her enraged meltdown being all either one of us could think of, but I had to get to the bottom of who created the picture.

No one could have come into this cabin while I was gone, I would swear to it. The house had locks and an alarm system…and there was just no way.

I sat up, my mind focusing on that photograph downstairs in my office, instead of the half-naked girl in my bed, but Holland sat up with me, dragging my shirt up and over my head. She sat back to look at my chest, then ran her hands over my skin, eventually settling at the base of my head. As I stared into her eyes, the light from the fireplace danced on her skin, casting an amber glow; I could almost forget about the grayness covering her. She was so beautiful.

She climbed into my lap, straddling me, and looked up into my eyes.

I ran a hand over her cheek, stopping to brush my thumb across her lips, then drew her close and kissed her again.

Fuck the photograph.
I wasn’t going to miss even a second of getting to hold this beautiful girl in my arms.

After we kissed a little longer, Holland’s tongue and lips doing miraculous things to my insides, she gently pushed me back, a coy smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

What’s this?

She licked her lips, then raised an eyebrow at me, and with a quick movement, she pulled her sweater up over her head. I slowly soaked her in, memorizing every inch, then moved back until my bare shoulders rested against the knotted wood of the headboard. She followed, and my hands found her lace-covered bottom, pulling her on top of me once more. With her bare chest against mine, I kissed her without holding back. She leaned into me, pulling me close to her and never letting our lips break contact. I rested my hands on either side of the groove above her hips, gripping the soft skin there gently, and keeping her in place on my lap. Her nails dug into my back as she kissed me, her hunger mimicking my own, making it hard for me to hold back.

I didn’t want to hold back.
But should I?

Rational thought was losing its luster.

She was brazen and confident—the girl I’d always imagined her to be. I was anxious with anticipation, and hungry for more of her. Even nearly naked, our skin on skin contact wasn’t enough. Holland had found her way inside me in such a short time—I was blown away by how much I wanted her.

Holland broke the kiss, then leaned back to look at me, her eyebrows drawn together over heavily-lidded eyes.

My breath came out in shallow huffs. I ached in all the places she no longer touched.

“How can you kiss me?”

What?
I shook my head, dazed from the power with which she kissed me, trying to bring my thoughts into focus. I splayed my fingers out over the skin of her back, pulling her closer to me once more. I needed her mouth on mine again.

“No, Mick. Look at me,” she said, suddenly unable to maintain eye contact. “How can you kiss me? Kiss…someone who looks like
this
? Is it because you were
trained
to?”

Ouch.
Had this been a test? Had she been so willing these last few minutes, so in control…because she was
testing
me? Disappointment bubbled up inside me, burning my chest, the negative voice that told me she didn’t actually want me, just wanted to see how I’d respond to her. I couldn’t stop the barrage of self-doubt that flooded my mind, but I could keep Holland from seeing it and confusing it with something else.