Nate’s breath hitched so sharp and ragged that Holly thought he might break then and there. She smirked to think her words had punctured straight through his impossible swagger and sliced into something raw. His hips stuttered beneath her like he couldn’t decide whether to run or fuck, andGod, the way he looked at herlike she was made of fire and he’d forgotten how to stop getting burned.
His hands tightened on her ass, fingers digging in as if maybe if he held her hard enough, he could anchor himself. But she saw his wide, frantic eyes, his clenched jaw, the way his chest was rising like he was seconds from losing every ounce of control. And the best part? He still hadn’t said a word. Becauseshehad taken it from him. His composure. His restraint. His fuckingmind. And she wasn’t even close to being done yet.
She rolled her hips again, slow and brutal, dragging her clothed pussy up the thick line of him like she was sharpening a blade on it. Nate choked on a moan, his head thunking backagainst the wall like it was the only thing keeping him upright. Good. Let him fall apart. Let him fuckingbeg.
She braced her hands on his chest, nails digging into the hard muscle like she owned it, and leaned in close enough to bite the corner of his mouth.
“What’s wrong, superstar?” she whispered, voice pure venomous velvet. “Can’t handle a little pressure?” Another grind. More friction. His whole body jerked. “You skate like a god, but we both know you like being used like this, don’t we?”
Holly grinned, slow and sharp, dragging her tongue over her bottom lip like she was tasting the victory before she finished destroying him. “You gonna come formenow, Nate?”
The echo of the words he’d used on her against the studio mirror called up his release. His whole body snapped tight beneath her, every muscle seizing as if she’d short-circuited the system. His fingers dug into her hips, bruising and helpless, and then…Holy fuck, the sound he made.A raw, broken moan tore out of him, loud and filthy andsofucking good she nearly came on the spot.
“You fuckingownme,” he gasped, voice cracked and reverent. “Don’t leave me hanging like you did the other day—take it—fuck,takeallof it?—”
He tried so hard to hold out. She felt it in the way his breath hitched and in the frantic twitch of his thighs, but it was no use. Her name was a savage growl on his tongue as he jerked against her, grinding through his orgasm, hips thrusting as he spilled in his pants like the sweetest, dirtiest kind of surrender.
And then she kissed him slowly like she had all day, tonguedipping past his lips to savor him before she pulled away with a wicked smile against his lips.
Holly didn’t stop moving. Not when she felt the wet heat of him spreading against her, or when his breath hitched like a prayer gone wrong. Instead, she chased her own pleasure, using him as her fucking tool. She rocked against him harder, rougher, grinding her soaked panties over the thick, pulsing line of his cock like she wanted to cover herself in themess he’d made. And he let her, his arctic gaze glassy, jaw slack. Every single muscle he had trembling as he just watched her ride him like he actually belonged to her.
“Jesusfuck,” she gasped, jerking mid-grind as the pressure crested. He was still throbbing beneath her, spent and panting, and the filthywet slideof it—of his release pressed against her through the thin barrier of her underwear—sent her over the edge.
Her orgasm ripped through her like a live wire. She clamped down around nothing, shuddering hard as she came all over him, moaning into the crook of his neck as her whole body bucked against the ruin of his. She ground through it like she was claiming the moment, like she’d branded him with her slick and her name.
By the time she stilled, trembling and breathless, his hands were still on her hips, barely holding on. And shegrinned, slow and cruel, because sheknewhe’d never recover from this. She wasn’t sure she’d recover either, but that was a problem for Future Holly. Present Holly was too busy respawning in third person.
Her fingers curled into his hair, nails grazing scalp, just enough to ground herself. His breath was hot against her cheek, handsspread over her thighs like a benediction and a dare. She pressed her forehead to his, and the worldstilled. Her heart a war drum in her chest. Nerves screaming. Skin lit up like someone had dragged a match down her spine.
And then, fuck. She felt that once-familiar ache gnawing at the edges of her loneliness. Worming its way under that thick skin of hers, threatening to leave tracks she’d spent her whole life trying to smooth over since thelast time. That tiny, naive part of her that wanted to bewantedlike this when there weren’t cameras. When there weren’t strings.
Words caught in her throat like a glitching loading screen.
“Nate, I—” She didn’t even know what was about to come out.I want you? I think I’m fucked? Please don’t let this be nothing?But the universe didn’t give her the chance.
The doorknob of the tiny prop room rattled, and her soul straight-upevacuatedher body. Emotional walls slammed up like a bank vault under siege. Shields engaged. Heart?Offline.Holly froze, all that fire of hers paused in place, body locking up like someone had hit the kill switch. If survival was a sport, Holly had just taken gold.
“Hello?” a voice called. Young.Intern.“Someone left a coffee tray out here. Hello?”
Nate’s hands were still locked under her ass like he hadn’t realized gravity existed, his chest rising and falling like he’d just been benched after overtime. He was staring at her wide-eyed and reverent, and it made something inside herreel. Like she’d just pressed a button she didn’t know existed and accidentally launched a missile.
Reality slammed back into her like a truck. Because that? That wasn’t the way a man looked at a woman he wasjust fucking. Whatever this was, it had teeth now, and she was already bleeding. The moment the truth clicked into place, panic bloomed like a fire alarm behind her ribs.Nope.Absolutely not. Abort mission.
Pull the lever, Kronk.
The doorknob stilled, but the air closed in, drawn taut between them like wire until Holly couldn’t stand it any longer. She shifted carefully, climbing down from the edge of something dangerous. Her hands braced against his shoulders and she eased herself back to the ground inch by aching inch. She hated how his grip lingered, tightening for a second as though he knew exactly what was slipping through his fingers.
They’d stumbled into that tiny closet as an act of rebellion. A little feral, a little horny, and a whole lotfuck this show, fuck that shirt, and fuck you.But she hadn’t expected to walk out of it feeling…haunted.Like she’d touched something too hot to hold and now it was burned into her fingerprints. This wasn’t supposed tomeananything. It was supposed to be stress relief, hate sex, enemies-to-benefits showmance.
Not... this.
Not him.
They adjusted their clothes in silence and avoided eye contact as if the act alone might detonate something. Holly smoothed her hair into something lessjust got dry-humped against a supply rack, while Nate tugged at the hem of his shirt like it owed him an apology. The hallway beyond was mercifully empty, but the vibe between them wasn’t. It rang loud and breathless, filled with all the words neither of them dared say.
When he eventually glanced her way like she was still the center of his whole goddamn universe, Holly had to walk faster. She placed herself two steps ahead of him, so he couldn’t see the rising oh-fuck-no behind her carefully curated calm.
19
