Her fingers curled in the soft, dark hair of his chest, traveling along the solid muscle. She wanted to know what the rest of him was like. What they would feel like, skin against skin.
“I need you inside me,” she whispered hoarsely.
He pulled back for a flash of a moment, stared at her, searched her face. Then, with a low growl, Cole reached for the silk at her hips and dragged it down. Her hands settled on his powerful shoulders, steadying herself, as she kicked the panties aside. A moment later he lifted her back onto the desk, where he spread her legs and put one on each arm of his chair. Her hands settled against the wood behind her, thrusting her breasts high in the air. She was naked, on display—he was still partially clothed. She wanted him naked, wanted him on top of her, inside her. But his warm palms branded her thighs, easing upward as they had before she’d undressed, and she forgot everything but the moment.
Urgency built within her as he caressed a path higher and higher, until finally, she was rewarded with the sweet bliss of his thumb gently stroking her nub. Pleasure jolted her, her lashes heavy as his fingers stroked a path along the slick, wet folds of her core. Two long fingers slid inside her and stroked the inner wall of her body in just the right spot. Her core clenched with each stroke of his fingers, each flick of her clit. With expert hands, he had her on the edge already. She was pumping against his palm, his fingers—lost, so very lost. She was sprawled out naked on top of the desk and didn’t care. Her hips thrust against the expert manipulation of his hands. She could feel the edge of release curling inside her, almost taste the moment it would snap. She just needed one more stroke of those fingers in that exact spot. One more, one more. One . . . She shook with release, tumbled over, and jerked with the intensity. His fingers stroked her to completion, softer with each passing second. But she could still feel that deep thrum of need.
His hands scooped her back, pulled her to a sitting position. She knew when his mouth closed down on hers with a hard hunger that he’d sacrificed his pleasure for hers. Her palm curved around the hard bulge of his cock pressing against his jeans.
Breathlessly, she said, “This is what I want. You. You inside me. I can barely think I want that so badly.”
“Hey, Cole,” came a male voice from outside the front door, followed by knocking. “Open up, man.” Then another muffled male voice.
“Holy crap,” Cole said, grabbing his shirt and shoving it over Holly’s head. “That would be my brothers. Again.”
Holly scrambled to shove her arms into the sleeves, heart racing with panic. She crossed her arms in front of her body. “This can’t be happening.”
He laced his hands into her hair, brushed his lips over hers. “I’m sorry. I’ll get rid of them. Don’t run away like you did last time.”
She scoffed at that. “I didn’t run away. I—”
A fist beat on the door. “Cole, man. It’s cold. I’m going to use my key.”
“Wait, Jacob, damn it,” Cole yelled, staring back down at Holly. “Promise me you won’t bolt. I won’t let them inside. I promise. They mean well.”
“I understand what siblings can be like,” she said. “The joy . . . and the downright torture, which this is, by the way.” His eyes softened, lips lifting slightly a moment before he kissed her forehead. It was a sweet gesture, one that had that frightening, run-for-the-hills, can’t-get-enough-of-it relationship kind of feeling to it.
He turned toward the door, and Holly hugged herself, noting the stealthy male grace in his every step despite his quickened pace. It was beginning to look like she’d never find out what it was like to have that man fully to herself.
Cole grabbed his jacket and zipped the front before disappearing down the hall and then outside. The muffled conversation was loud enough for her to hear bits and pieces. Something about a Christmas tree. They’d brought him a tree!
Holly snagged her jeans and shoved her legs inside. Wiggled her hips to pull them on. The front door opened and shut, Cole appearing in the hallway alone.
She didn’t give him time to speak. “I heard,” she said. “They brought you a tree. I have to go. I’m hurrying.” She bent down to pick up her socks.
“They’re putting it in the garage,” he said, crossing the room.
Holly straightened as he reached her side. “No!” She pointed to the door. “Go get them. Tell them to bring it inside. I’m leaving.”
She bent down and grabbed her socks and sat down in the chair. Cole knelt beside her. “Holly, I’m sorry about this. Abe ran into one of our mother’s close friends, and she talked a lot about Mom and how she would be worried about us. How she would roll over in her grave if she found out her boys hadn’t had a tree since she’d passed. So Abe rounded up Jacob and we now have a tree.”
Holly’s heart squeezed with that news and she touched his cheek. “I think the tree is a great thing,” she said. “And I wouldn’t dream of ruining that for you.” Even in her mode of panic, Holly could see this was part of Abe’s healing process.
“Then stay,” Cole insisted. “Help us decorate it. It needs a woman’s touch.”
Holly’s heart swelled. How had a wild night of fantasy sex turned into decorating a Christmas tree with his family? “I . . . I don’t know. I . . . What about your brothers?”
He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm, peered at her with a plea in those chocolate brown eyes. “Stay, Holly. Help us decorate the tree, and then later”—he grinned—“I’ll wrap you up and put you under the tree.”
She laughed. “Wrap me in what?”
He wiggled an eyebrow. “Me.”
***
TWO HOURS LATER, LAUGHTER FOLLOWED Holly into Cole’s kitchen of shiny black-and-gray granite. Cole had gone for firewood while his brothers playfully argued over who deserved the honor of placing the topper on the tree. Smiling at the silliness of Cole’s brothers, she thought of her own siblings with longing. Another week, and Rachel, the middle sister, would be the first to arrive home. Rachel was now a big-time advertising executive in New York City, which felt worlds away from Texas. Holly couldn’t wait to give her a big hug and hear what was happening in her life.
Warmed by that thought, Holly filled her glass with ice and Coca-Cola and crossed to the door. But then she hesitated when she heard her name, knowing she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but finding it impossible not to.
“I like Holly,” Abe said. “Cole must, too, since he never brings his women home.”
Jacob snorted. “Holly’s going to go back to Houston. She’s safe. Not that Holly isn’t cool and all. I’m just saying. You know how Cole is.”
How Cole is. Holly swallowed hard against the discomfort the words caused. She inhaled deeply and tried to understand why that bothered her. She’d not come here with the expectation of anything but a hot escape with Cole. It shouldn’t surprise her that he would see her in the same way—a hot holiday escape that ended when she went back home. Her gut twisted a little. But Cole was no longer a nameless one-night stand. And she had never been simply an out-of-town girl leaving soon. She was thinking of moving home.