Holding Strong
Page 138
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Cherry stopped fighting him and instead covered her face. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
“What about this?” he asked, slipping one finger under the seam of the thong and trailing it down, down, until he could touch her from behind.
“Or that!”
He stroked over her—and found her hot, damp and no longer protesting. He groaned as he carefully pressed into her.
Stiffening, she made a small sound in the back of her throat.
“Come on, Cherry,” he crooned to her, his finger now teasing. “Tell me you want me.”
Throaty, soft, she whispered, “I want you.”
Hearing her say it broke his control. In one quick movement he turned her facedown bent over the end of the high bed. Her heels made it possible for her to plant her feet on the floor—raising up that sexy rump.
“Yeah.” He opened his jeans as he strode to the nightstand to grab a condom, returning to her in less than twenty seconds. He pushed the dress up high and moved her miniscule panties to the side, groaning again at the ripe sight of her. With his foot he nudged her legs wider.
“Denver?”
“Stay like that.”
Her hands knotted in the quilt.
So hot. “You’re mine, Cherry.” He planted one hand at the small of her back to keep her still and with the other, he guided himself to her, watching as he entered oh-so slowly, opening her, working his way in.
She shifted on a small moan.
“Okay?”
“Hurry it up.”
Clasping her hips between his hands, he thrust into her.
Her legs stiffened and she cried out, but not in discomfort.
She called his name.
“You’re mine,” he said again, already rushing to the rhythm he knew she liked best.
“I’m yours,” she agreed, clenching tight around him.
Neither of them lasted long at all. Denver waited for her, loving the way she moved, the sounds she made, how she strained toward her climax.
The second she tensed in release, he let himself go and joined her. When her legs gave out he dropped over her, crushing her into the bed.
Drowsily, she muttered, “My dress is going to be wrinkled.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t move just yet.”
“No, I won’t.” He gave them each a full minute to recover before finally dragging himself back to his feet. Cherry didn’t move, not even when he stroked her silky behind.
Sex with Cherry was the perfect cure—for everything. He was now so relaxed, he could barely feel his bones.
Smiling, he turned her over and kissed her parted lips. “Get a move on, girl, or we’ll be late.”
Her response was part laugh, part groan, but she did get up and head to the restroom on wobbly legs. “We’ll be late because of you,” she complained. “You better start thinking up an excuse, because the truth won’t do.”
Denver barely held back his laugh. No way could he hide his satisfaction. He loved her. Tonight, no matter what, he had to tell her.
* * *
HE HELD HER hand as they went up the walkway to the front door of his family home. It felt familiar, yet strange. In the time he’d been away, the chairs on the front porch had changed, the shutters were a different color and flowers filled the window boxes.
“Are you nervous?” Cherry asked, sounding really nervous herself.
“No.” He lifted her hand to his mouth to kiss her knuckles. “Thanks to you, I’m as mellow as can be.”
She gave him a beautiful smile. “I’m glad.”
The door opened before they reached it and both his dad and Pamela stood there. Denver didn’t hesitate. Acting as if nothing had changed, he nodded. “Dad. Pamela.”
Pamela looked flushed and anxious as she held the door wide. “I’m so glad you both made it.”
Cherry shrugged off her nervousness and stepped forward. “Thank you again for including me.” She went right up to his dad. “Hello, Mister Lewis.” She held out her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
A smile cracked, and then a full-fledged grin as Lyle Lewis pulled her in for a hug. “It’s very nice to meet you, young lady. Cherry, right?”
“Yes, sir.” She returned his embrace, then held him away. “Denver’s right. You do look much alike.”
Lyle’s gaze shifted to Denver, and his expression went somber. “Son.”
“Dad.” He held out his hand, but he, too, got pulled into a hug, this time crushing.
It was the same type of hug he’d gotten after his mother died, when his father struggled so badly.
“What about this?” he asked, slipping one finger under the seam of the thong and trailing it down, down, until he could touch her from behind.
“Or that!”
He stroked over her—and found her hot, damp and no longer protesting. He groaned as he carefully pressed into her.
Stiffening, she made a small sound in the back of her throat.
“Come on, Cherry,” he crooned to her, his finger now teasing. “Tell me you want me.”
Throaty, soft, she whispered, “I want you.”
Hearing her say it broke his control. In one quick movement he turned her facedown bent over the end of the high bed. Her heels made it possible for her to plant her feet on the floor—raising up that sexy rump.
“Yeah.” He opened his jeans as he strode to the nightstand to grab a condom, returning to her in less than twenty seconds. He pushed the dress up high and moved her miniscule panties to the side, groaning again at the ripe sight of her. With his foot he nudged her legs wider.
“Denver?”
“Stay like that.”
Her hands knotted in the quilt.
So hot. “You’re mine, Cherry.” He planted one hand at the small of her back to keep her still and with the other, he guided himself to her, watching as he entered oh-so slowly, opening her, working his way in.
She shifted on a small moan.
“Okay?”
“Hurry it up.”
Clasping her hips between his hands, he thrust into her.
Her legs stiffened and she cried out, but not in discomfort.
She called his name.
“You’re mine,” he said again, already rushing to the rhythm he knew she liked best.
“I’m yours,” she agreed, clenching tight around him.
Neither of them lasted long at all. Denver waited for her, loving the way she moved, the sounds she made, how she strained toward her climax.
The second she tensed in release, he let himself go and joined her. When her legs gave out he dropped over her, crushing her into the bed.
Drowsily, she muttered, “My dress is going to be wrinkled.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t move just yet.”
“No, I won’t.” He gave them each a full minute to recover before finally dragging himself back to his feet. Cherry didn’t move, not even when he stroked her silky behind.
Sex with Cherry was the perfect cure—for everything. He was now so relaxed, he could barely feel his bones.
Smiling, he turned her over and kissed her parted lips. “Get a move on, girl, or we’ll be late.”
Her response was part laugh, part groan, but she did get up and head to the restroom on wobbly legs. “We’ll be late because of you,” she complained. “You better start thinking up an excuse, because the truth won’t do.”
Denver barely held back his laugh. No way could he hide his satisfaction. He loved her. Tonight, no matter what, he had to tell her.
* * *
HE HELD HER hand as they went up the walkway to the front door of his family home. It felt familiar, yet strange. In the time he’d been away, the chairs on the front porch had changed, the shutters were a different color and flowers filled the window boxes.
“Are you nervous?” Cherry asked, sounding really nervous herself.
“No.” He lifted her hand to his mouth to kiss her knuckles. “Thanks to you, I’m as mellow as can be.”
She gave him a beautiful smile. “I’m glad.”
The door opened before they reached it and both his dad and Pamela stood there. Denver didn’t hesitate. Acting as if nothing had changed, he nodded. “Dad. Pamela.”
Pamela looked flushed and anxious as she held the door wide. “I’m so glad you both made it.”
Cherry shrugged off her nervousness and stepped forward. “Thank you again for including me.” She went right up to his dad. “Hello, Mister Lewis.” She held out her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
A smile cracked, and then a full-fledged grin as Lyle Lewis pulled her in for a hug. “It’s very nice to meet you, young lady. Cherry, right?”
“Yes, sir.” She returned his embrace, then held him away. “Denver’s right. You do look much alike.”
Lyle’s gaze shifted to Denver, and his expression went somber. “Son.”
“Dad.” He held out his hand, but he, too, got pulled into a hug, this time crushing.
It was the same type of hug he’d gotten after his mother died, when his father struggled so badly.
