If You Want Me (The Toronto Terror Series)

I lose the battle to stay on my couch where I belong and grab my fob. I’m not thinking about consequences as I step into the elevator and push the button for Aurora’s floor. If she doesn’t answer, I’ll go back to my place, jerk off again, and go to bed.

But she does.

The door only opens a few inches because the safety latch is engaged. She’s still wearing the princess dress. “Hollis?” She looks up at the latch. “You better not be here to give me a speech about why what I did on the dance floor was a bad idea. No one could see me.”

I shake my head. “That’s not why I’m here.” Of course that’s what she thinks. It’s what I’ve done every single time I’ve lost control—let her feel like she’s responsible for my inability to handle myself around her. It’s her way. To own things that aren’t hers. I need to remember that.

“Hold on.” She closes the door and opens it all the way. “Is everything okay?”

I grip the jamb. “Yeah. No. I don’t know.” I close my eyes for a second. “You can tell me to go.”

“It’s okay.” Her expression softens, and she steps back. “Do you want to come in?”

“Is Rix at Tristan’s?” I’m teetering on the edge. Rix being here would save me from making more decisions I can’t undo.

“For the night, yeah.”

I’m still standing in the doorway, still trying to do the right fucking thing. I should tell her I wanted to make sure she made it home okay and leave. I shouldn’t complicate her life like this. I want her to turn me away; I want her to ask me to stay more.

She gently pries my fingers from the jamb. “Please come in.”

The wave of relief is damning. I cross the threshold, and she closes the door behind me, locks it, and re-engages the safety latch.

“Talk to me.”

And despite everything I’ve put her through these past weeks, she strokes the edge of my jaw, her touch tender, and exactly the balm I need. “Not being able to touch you, kiss you, be near you is torture.”

Her breath leaves her on a surprised exhale, and she moves closer, until our bodies almost touch. “I’m right here.”

I cup her cheek in my palm, the contact electrifying and soothing. “Is this okay?”

“Of course it’s okay. This is what I’ve been waiting for.” Her fingers drift along the side of my neck. “Aching for.”

“You look so beautiful tonight. Staying away from you is wrecking me.” I brush my lips over hers, and like the first time, my entire body breaks out in a wave of goose bumps.

Aurora spears her hands into my hair and tips her head, parting her lips for me as I stroke inside. I mean for it to be soft, but the moment our tongues meet, we both groan. It’s weeks of pent-up tension, desire, and need colliding. Hunger takes hold, and the desire to devour, own, and claim rules me.

I spin her around, pressing her against the door. My good knee finds its way between her thighs, and she rolls her hips on a wanton moan. It shouldn’t feel this good, this right. But God help me, I want her, want to watch her unravel for me again, want the sound of my name on her lips when she comes. Want is all I am when I’m near her.

The kiss grows frantic, heated, volcanic. One of Aurora’s hands leaves my hair and moves over my shoulder, fingertips gliding down to my forearm. She moves it to cup her breast, arching into the touch as she rubs herself on my thigh.

“Please, Hollis,” she whimpers as she finds the hem of my shirt and eases a hand up my side. My skin burns in the wake of her touch.

I can’t get to her breast without doing damage to her dress, so I skim the curve of her hip until I reach her thigh, which is hooked around my leg. I slide up and under, squeeze her bare ass, and run my hand back down until I reach the bend in her knee. I tug, but she’s determined to stay wrapped around me, possibly trying to get herself off on my thigh with the way she’s riding it.

I break the kiss, my thumb pressing into the soft spot under her chin until she tilts her head up. I brush my lips over hers. “Let me take care of you.”

Desire makes her eyes heat. This time she doesn’t resist when I tug on her knee, bringing her foot to the floor again. I drag my fingertips up the outside of her bare thigh.

“You in this fucking dress.” I suck her bottom lip, dragging it through my teeth. “Has been breaking me all night.”

“You like it, then?” Aurora’s palm slides up my back.

I stroke the edge of her jaw. “Like is an understatement. You’re too much to resist. You steal my breath.” I skim the inside of her thigh with my other hand until I reach the apex and brush over satin.

Her eyes flutter closed. “Oh, please.”

I cup her through her panties. “Tell me what you want, Aurora.”

“What I’ve always wanted. You.” She pulls my mouth to hers, tongue pushing past my lips, greedy and desperate.

I rub her through her panties, barely there caresses that light her up, but won’t send her over the edge. The fabric grows damp, and her nails dig into my skin.

“Please touch me.” She bites my tongue and sucks. “Please. Oh, God.” Her hips roll and jerk again.

I shift the fabric aside, skimming smooth, soft, wet skin until I find her swollen clit. Aurora’s eyes roll up, and her knees buckle. She scrambles to grip my shoulders as I wrap my other hand around her waist. Once she’s secure, I tap the outside of her other thigh. “Wrap this around my waist, Princess.”

“What about your knee?” she asks, even as she complies.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine.” Layers of satin and gauzy fabric slip over my arm as I adjust her stance, cupping her ass to keep her in place and open her for me.

Her protest dies as I stroke between her thighs and her head falls back, eyes fluttering closed. “Oh, God, it feels so good. I knew it would.”

I kiss a path up her throat. “Open your eyes. I want to see you.”

Her hazy, lust-soaked gaze meets mine.

“Good girl.” She shudders when I drag my fingers lower and circle her entrance. “Tell me how it feels.”

“Like…like…” One hand curves around the back of my neck and the other moves over my shoulder and down my arm again. “Please don’t stop. I need more.”

“I’ll give you more.” I keep circling her entrance. I’ve dreamed about what she would feel like under my touch. “Just tell me how it feels and what you need.”

“I’m on the edge already, and you’ve barely even touched me. I’ll never get enough of your hands on me. I want them everywhere. I want you inside me, filling me, fucking me.”

“Like this?” I ease a single finger inside, groaning at how soft and warm and wet she is. She’s so snug around that single digit. How tight would she feel stretched around my cock? I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want Aurora.

Her nails bite into the back of my neck and her mouth drops open as I curl—once, twice, a third time. “Oh my God, yes.”

I ease out, and she clutches my wrist. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop,” she whimpers.

“Not until you’re coming all over my fingers.” I circle her clit again, gentle caresses that drive her wild. I want to own her pussy.

Her hold on my wrist tightens. “More. Harder.”

“So demanding.” I slide two fingers inside her and curl them, finding the spot that makes her legs tremble while I press my palm against her clit. “Is this better?”

“Better,” she pants. “But I still want more.”

Her face is flushed, her eyes hot with need. I need this as much as she does. Maybe more. I love seeing her like this, completely uninhibited, demanding, needy. I drink in the sight of her—the way her chest heaves with every panted breath, the way her gaze moves between my face and the hand working between her thighs. How good would it feel to be inside her? To be surrounded by her? How fucked would I be then?

Her head lolls against the door, but her gaze stays locked with mine.

Her tongue drags across her bottom lip. “More, please.”

“Such a greedy girl.” I add a third finger, and she moans, grinding on my hand, her juices dripping into my palm. It makes me wonder what else she’d let me do to her. How she’d bend and whimper just for me.

“Oh, fuck, that’s—” She sucks in a breath as I curl my fingers. “It feels so good, Hollis.”

She pulls my mouth to hers and releases my wrist. The sound of a zipper being dragged down follows, and then she tugs at her bodice, freeing her breast. I break the kiss, eyes dropping as she pinches her nipple roughly.

I dip down and suck the tight peak.

Her hand slides into my hair, gripping tightly. “Oh, God… Oh my God… I can’t… I’m—” The words get lost in a moan as she trembles and clenches around my fingers. Her eyes fall closed as her body quakes.

I squeeze her ass, fingers dangerously close to that space between her cheeks. “Eyes on mine, Princess.”

They open, pupils dilated with desire. She claws at my arm, sinking into my hand as she gives herself over to the sensation. I adjust my grip, taking her weight as she rides it out and then sags against me.

“Holy fuck.” She pulses around my fingers, the orgasm slowly waning. “That was…” She licks her lips. “Not an experience I’ve had before.”

I brush her clit with my thumb, and she jerks. “I can’t⁠—”

“Can’t what? Come again?” I release the thigh around my waist and let it slide to the floor. “I think you can. Let’s see who’s right.” I wrap my arm around her and start again.

I circle her swollen clit, gathering more of her wetness. Teasing her and driving her wild with every purposeful caress.

“Arms around my neck,” I rasp with shredded control.

Her smell is everywhere. She bites her lips and gazes up at me like I rule her entire world.

“Don’t drop your hands. Don’t move them. Do you understand?” I love the subtle nod, like she can’t do anything except feel my hands on her. Fire licks at my chest as if it can burn us both from the inside out.

I run my tongue up her neck and whisper in her ear, “This pussy is mine. Do you feel the way my fingers fill you?”

Shivers wrack her body with every word. Rubbing her clit in strong focused strokes, I up my intensity. My breath comes harder.

“Can you imagine how hard I’d fuck you? How I’d cage you in and hold you tight so you couldn’t squirm away from every orgasm I want to give you? How no part of you would be left untouched?” Thoughts of licking her, caressing her, owning her cascade through my mind. Her bent over with her wrists held behind her back. Her underneath me as I pound into her like it’s the only thing I’ve ever cared about.

“Oh my God.” Aurora’s eyes flare, and she claws at my shoulders, trying to find purchase as I finger-fuck her to a second orgasm. Mostly because I want the satisfaction of being right.

She’s a ragdoll in my arms as I gently ease out from between her thighs, wipe my hand on my jogging pants, then dip down and slide my arm behind her knees.

She clutches my neck. “What are you doing? Put me down! Your knee.”

“My knee is fine.” And Aurora isn’t particularly heavy. She’s close to five-nine, lean, and athletically built, but I can bench heavier. Would my physical therapist be annoyed if she found out I’d been lifting a hundred and fifty pounds? Probably, but my fucks-to-give meter about that is at zero.

“You’re limping. I can totally walk to wherever you’re taking me. Down. Now.”

I set her feet on the floor. She maintains her hold on my shoulders as she tests out her legs. She wobbles and stumbles into me.

I settle my hand on her waist. Half of her right breast is still exposed, a hint of nipple peeking out. “What were you saying about being able to walk?”

“I’m getting my bearings.” She gives me a look and pokes my chest. “Stop looking so impressed with yourself.”

I take her face in my hands and slant my mouth over hers. She sways into me and moans when she feels my erection pressing against her stomach. She pulls back, eyes heavy with lust all over again. Her hand slides down my chest, and she cups me through my joggers. “I want that.”

I gather both of her hands in mine and bring them to my lips. “Not tonight.”

Her face falls. “Why not?”

I kiss her fingertips. “Because tonight is about making you feel good.” And if she gets her hands on me, I’ll embarrass the hell out of myself. “Let’s get you into bed.”

She drops her head and peeks up at me through her lashes. “Are you leaving?”

Sleeping here isn’t a good idea. Not when Roman could let himself into my place and realize I couldn’t have gone far with my car keys and phone sitting on the coffee table. That isn’t how I want him to find out about this. “I can stay until you fall asleep. How about that?”

“Okay.” She links our pinkies and leads me to her bedroom.

I’ve seen the one in her dad’s place. It does look like Barbie decorated it while on an LSD trip. Her current bedroom couldn’t be more different. She has an abstract painting of a woman looking over her shoulder on the wall across from her bed. Her furniture is dark wood, and the color scheme is blue and pale gray. It’s feminine and sexy.

She closes the door and reaches behind her, unzipping her dress the rest of the way. The fabric pools around her feet, leaving her in pale blue panties that match it.

She’s a fucking vision. Toned and strong and curvy. I don’t know what happened to the uncertain girl I was dealing with back in January, but she’s transformed, and in her wake is this self-assured woman I can’t get enough of. She closes the distance between us and fingers the hem of my T-shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for bed.” She tugs my shirt. “And I want to sleep in this.” I raise my arms and she steps forward, bare breasts brushing my chest.

It takes every ounce of my restraint not to pick her up, wrap her around me, and get naked along with her. But I’m in way deeper than I ever meant to be. And I don’t want to give in to the draw, only to have to sneak out in the middle of the night, leaving her to wake alone.

That I’m acknowledging this, already planning a way to get a whole night with her, is telling. I want this. I want her. And not just for a night, or a week, or a month. I’m past casual relationships. I want someone I can rely on. Permanence.

But she’s too young to be saddled with what I’d have to give her. A heart and body covered in scars with no idea what the future holds. And then I’ll be right back where I was when I was traded to Toronto. I’m not ready to face that reality when everything else is still so unsettled.

So instead of telling her what I want, where I’d like to see this go, I let her take my shirt off and pull it over her head. She’s swimming in fabric. The sleeves nearly reach her elbows, and the hem ends above her knees.

I arch a brow. “You expect me to leave here shirtless?”

She bites her lip and crosses to her closet. A moment later, she returns with another T-shirt. This one has the team logo on it. “You can put this on.” She hugs it to her chest. “But not now. Before you leave.”

“You want me to wear one of your dad’s shirts?”

She ducks her head, her cheeks flushing. “It’s not my dad’s.”

“You’ve been stealing my shirts.” Fuck. That does something to me, makes me crave the fantasy world where she wears just my shirts every night.

“I always bring them back. After they stop smelling like you.”

I close the distance between us and tip her chin up until her eyes meet mine. “How long have you been doing this?”

Her gaze darts to the side. “A few months.”

“Before or after I found out you were getting off in my bed?”

“Before. And that only happened once—me getting off in your bed, I mean.”

“You’ve been naughty, haven’t you?”

She nods, her grin coy.

I exhale harshly, trying to keep a leash on my hormones. One of these days I’ll break and give her what she’s asking for. I take the shirt from her, swat her ass, and give her a nudge toward the bathroom. “Brush your teeth and get ready for bed, little girl.”

“Okay.” She rushes across the room, pulling the bathroom door closed behind her and turning the lock.

Smart girl.

I move across the room to her dresser. There’s a small bowl with a collection of scrunchies. I pick one up and bring it to my nose. It doesn’t smell like Aurora, but my fingers sure do. I put it back and glance at the small cluster of framed photos. There’s a recent one of her and the girls at a game, and another of Aurora with her mom and Roman. I took the photo last year on her twentieth birthday. The third is a picture of me, her, and Roman at the diner. This one was taken pre-Batdick. I’m hit with a crushing wave of guilt.

It’s about more than hiding shit. I’m in so deep, and these feelings… I have no idea if I’m just an infatuation for her. Finding out how she really feels is like jumping off a cliff and I’m fucking terrified. No clue if we’re on the same page. Hell, I’m still struggling with the page I’m on. If I could give her the stability Roman wants for her, would he be okay with it? Or am I fooling myself into believing the impossible?

Aurora wraps her arms around me from behind, cheek pressed against my back. “Please, please, please, don’t tell me this was a mistake.”

I turn around and cup her face in my hands. She lets me tip it up, but her eyes are closed. “Please, Hollis.” Her voice is a broken whisper.

I would rather have my heart ripped right out of my chest by the woman in front of me than make her cry again. It’s a damning realization. There’s no way out of this without someone I care about getting hurt. But I’d rather it be me than her.

I stroke her cheek and press my lips to hers. “Baby, look at me.”

She opens her eyes, and the fear in them makes my heart feel like it’s been put in a vise.

So I give her as much honesty as I can. “This should feel like a mistake, but it doesn’t. At all.” It feels exactly right. And that scares the shit out of me. I kiss her softly, slowly, but break it before we can get too carried away. “Bedtime, Princess. You have a meeting with your group in less than eight hours, and we both know you’re grouchy when you’ve had less than six hours of sleep.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have given you access to my calendar,” she gripes.

She did that when she started taking care of Postie and Malone. She turns off the lights, except for the lamp on her nightstand. I pull back the sheets, and she climbs in, me following. I set the timer on my watch for an hour, turn off the light, and stretch out on my back. Aurora snuggles into my side, head on my chest, hand resting lightly over my heart.

I curl my fingers around it, in case she gets any ideas.

She kisses the back of my hand, then settles her cheek on my chest. “Hollis?”

“Yes, Princess?”

“Your hand smells like my pussy.”

I laugh. “I know.”

“You’re not going to wash it, are you?”

“No.”

“You’re a little dirty, aren’t you?”

I smile in the dark. “Yeah.”

“Good. Me too.” She shifts around, and her lips find the edge of my jaw, working their way up to my lips. “Thanks for finger-fucking me against my door.”

“You’re welcome. Now go to sleep.”

“Okay.” She settles against my chest again and a few seconds later whispers, so quietly I almost don’t catch it, “Old man.”

“You’re pushing it, Princess. G’night.”

“I know. G’night, Hollis.”

She throws her leg over mine and tries to free her hand, but I thread our fingers together. It doesn’t take her long to fall asleep. I lie there for a long while, staring at the ceiling, listening to her steady breathing, wishing I could see into the future and know for sure that this path is the right one. This doesn’t feel fleeting, but I’ve been wrong before. And there’s so much at stake for both of us. But I can’t stay away anymore.