Hold Her Close Read online

  Hold Her Close

  Penny Wylder

  Contents

  More Must Reads by Penny Wylder

  1. Sadie

  2. Jon

  3. Sadie

  4. Jon

  5. Sadie

  6. Jon

  7. Sadie

  8. Jon

  9. Sadie

  10. Jon

  11. Sadie

  12. Jon

  Epilogue

  More Must Reads by Penny Wylder

  Copyright © 2020 Penny Wylder

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or businesses, organizations, or locales, is completely coincidental.

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  1

  Sadie

  The club that we’re in is one of Atlanta’s finest. Not somewhere I would normally be, but you only live once, and today’s my last night in this beautiful city. Tomorrow I move to Nashville and start my new life there.

  So tonight is my last hurrah, and I’m going all out.

  “To my best friend,” Jennifer shouts, “who’s going to be the best damn anchor that Nashville has ever seen!”

  “Shhh,” I pull her back into her seat from where she’s standing. “The whole idea of tonight is that people don’t know that, Jenn.”

  She’s definitely already drunk and there’s a maniacal glint in her eye. “Well I want to celebrate you. You’re going to be amazing.”

  The familiar nerves flutter in my gut. I can’t believe it’s actually happening. Still. After years of working my way up as an on-camera reporter doing bigger and bigger stories, I’ve finally been hired as an anchor at WNSV—Nashville News.

  It’s perfect for me. They not only let their anchors be the faces of the show, but their anchors get to pitch stories and do their own reporting. Kind of a rare blend, and one that I can’t wait to tackle. But I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t going to miss my life here in Atlanta. My friends and my local hangouts and everything about it. I’ve been here for a few years now, and it’s become home.

  But being an anchor is my dream, and I can make new memories in Nashville. I’ll be able to visit Jenn, and she can visit me. It’s only a few hours’ drive. Totally doable for weekend visits, we’ve told each other. But still, it’ll be different not seeing each other from day to day, so she suggested we make a night of it. I was the one who wanted drinks and dancing, and she was the one who wanted to come here.

  Now that I am here, completely decked out in a dress that’s borderline slutty, and the highest heels I own, the buzz in my veins from the drinks Jenn has kept in my hand is making me want something else. Something to really make this night special.

  WNSV is the biggest news station in Nashville. Every day my face is going to be seen by thousands of viewers. Hell, there are going to be fucking billboards with my face on them on the highway. And as amazing and brilliant as that is, once I’m on air, I’ll have zero anonymity.

  I know I’m not going to land up on the cover of People magazine or anything like that, but it’s surprising how gossipy the news business can be, and anchors get a fair amount of attention paid to their social lives. And networks don’t exactly mind that attention. It’s good for ratings. So before I end up in Nashville and always looking over my shoulder, trying to behave in a way that doesn’t get me attention, right now I want one night of hot hook-up sex with a complete stranger.

  Not that that’s something I do often, but given that it might be the last time for a while I get to do this, I’m starting to like the idea more and more. Go out with a bang tonight!

  The alcohol is making me warm in all the right places, and I feel good. I feel even better about the big, burly blond hovering on the edge of the VIP section.

  The raised platform isn’t far up, but it’s high enough for the people up there to get a good view over the club. But this guy hasn’t been doing much up there but standing near the railing with a drink in his hand looking out at the dancers. Oh, and staring at my ass.

  So maybe I’ve turned the exact way I know he needs to look to see it, and maybe I keep moving so his eyes come back to mine. But there’s no mistaking the fact that he’s looking at me. We’ve locked eyes a few times and he’s never looked away. Just stared me down while taking a slow sip of his drink.

  I wish he would take a sip of me instead.

  Fuck.

  I’m sober enough to know that this is what I want and buzzed enough to let my inhibitions fall. The perfect state for a one night stand. I want to remember this, or what’s the point?

  The crowd that he’s with does seem to be trying to get his attention. Especially one woman. She keeps coming up to the railing and leaning against it, pushing up her breasts and letting her long blonde hair slide over her shoulder. But he doesn’t so much as glance at her. His eyes are only on me, and even from here I can feel the heat in them.

  “What are you staring at?” Jenn asks, voice loud as she tries to talk over the loud music.

  I don’t have to answer for her to know. She turns her head and follows my gaze. I know what she’s seeing. Blond hair with enough length to run your fingers through. Gray button-down that’s nearly bursting over the width of his chest and the thickness of his arms. The sleeves are rolled back revealing toned forearms and gorgeous tattooed skin, and every inch of his relaxed pose screams sex.

  “Oh,” she says. “Got it. Understood.”

  “Will you be okay?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?”

  I laugh, but I don’t take my eyes off him. “I’m going to fuck that man. And I don’t know if I’ll do it here or at his place, but it’s happening. So are you okay hanging solo?”

  “Girl, I’ll be fine. And if I don’t see you, I’ll still be there to take you to the airport in the morning.”

  I grin. “Thanks, Jenn.”

  “And I’ll await a full and detailed report in the morning,” she says, before she disappears, likely looking for her own version of getting lucky.

  Looking back, the blond still has his eyes on me, and I raise an eyebrow. He raises one back. Never in my life have I crooked a finger at a man and had him come. But the second I make the motion, he stands from the railing and heads for the stairs, completely ignoring the calls of his friends behind him.

  Even the way he walks is sexy. Smooth and confident, not a care in the world besides reaching me. I could get used to that kind of attention.

  Coming to a stop in front of me, he takes a long sip of his drink, looking me up and down. “You beckoned?”

  His voice isn’t loud, but somehow I can hear him perfectly clearly. Like the words are at a completely different resonance than the rest of the noise in the club.

  “Seemed like a waste of time for us to spend the whole night just staring at each other from across the room.”

  A half smile. “That would be a waste.”

  “You’re sure that your friends won’t miss you?”

  His laugh slides down my spine, and I shiver. “I’m sure that they’ll survive. Is your friend coming back?”

  “I sent her to find her own target.”

  “Is that what I am?”

  “Maybe,” I say. “Or maybe I have one painted on my ass. You tell me, you’re the one who’s been staring all night.”

  His smile deepe
ns. “I stare when there’s something worth staring at.”

  “My ass makes the list?”

  “Your ass makes the rest of the list question why they’re even on the list.” Without warning, he closes the gap between us, hand sliding down my ribs and around my back. He hesitates just before touching the area in question.

  “I’d be interested in a closer look at that.”

  “As long as I get a look at yours.”

  He leans closer, smelling of cedar and the best kind of whiskey. His lips brush my cheek, and I’m already shaking with adrenaline and anticipation. “You can look and touch any part of me you want, baby girl.”

  And then he leans down and presses his lips to mine. The kiss is pure fire, lighting me up from within. My body goes into overdrive as if it wasn’t already on its way there. Fucking hell the man can kiss, his tongue runs along my lips until I yield to him.

  His hand is on my ass now, the other placing his glass down on the bar so he can explore the rest of me. He brushes it subtly down over my breast and to the side where my shirt creeps up exposing my skin.

  “We need to get out of here,” I breathe.

  “That would be another waste,” he says against my lips. “When I have a private room just steps away.”

  I pull back in surprise. “You have a VIP room and you’re not already using it?”

  He chuckles. “I’m not from here. I wanted to get a feel for the atmosphere of the club.”

  “Your friends must be pissed.”

  A shrug. “They weren’t happy, but I think it’s working out, don’t you?”

  “Definitely.”

  He grabs my hand and pulls me away from the bar. We weave across the dance floor, dodging bodies and limbs and any attempts to dance with us. Everything is hazy and my body is humming. Have I ever fucked a man this hot before? Is this a dream? We walk down a narrow hallway past a bouncer. When he flashes him a card, the bouncer opens anther door that leads to a dark hallway lined with doors. He stops at one and slides the key card. He opens the door and extends his arm, showing me the way inside.

  The room is light and golden. There’s a bucket with champagne next to a lush sofa, and the shimmer of a crystal chandelier reflects sparks of light across the walls. But that’s all I see before I’m slammed into the back of the closed door, his body fully pressed against mine. His mouth comes down hard taking what he wants as his hands slip the straps of my top over my shoulders, exposing more skin for him to taste, and he does.

  Turning me toward the door, he’s pulling up my skirt. “I need a look at that ass.” His hands brush across my lace panties, and the friction sends delicious sensations throughout my body. His big hands knead my ass and his lips skate across my bottom, leaving my panties warm and moist from his tongue. I feel his teeth grabbing at the lace and pinching my skin, and I can help the sounds coming from my throat as my hips start to move, pushing my ass closer to his face, wanting to feel more. I’m so warm between my legs I swear that he’s going to feel it.

  He grabs my panties and pulls them down to my ankles. “You like it?” I ask.

  “Fuck,” he says, low and urgent. “Baby, your ass is a goddamn work of art.”

  Leaning against the door, I relax into the feeling of his hands on me, smoothing over my skin up to my spine and then stretching down over the backs of my thighs. Between my legs. He pushes my legs apart until I’m teetering on my heels, completely relying on the door for any sense of balance.

  “Show it to me.”

  “Show you what?” I manage to say, though my voice is barely more than a breathy moan.

  A cry escapes my lips at the little spank he drops on my ass. “You know exactly what.”

  Yes, I do. I arch my spine and push back my hips so that he can see absolutely everything. The fact that I’m aroused and wet for him, totally anticipating what his mouth will feel like on me. Relishing the adrenaline that comes from being completely in the moment.

  This is what I wanted. Complete freedom. Complete anonymity. I don’t even know his name, and I don’t want to. All I want him to do is fuck me like I’m the girl of his dreams and then I’ll leave this city tomorrow to start living my own dreams.

  His hands fall on my ass, spreading me open, and he feasts on my pussy like a starving man. Long, deep licks that send ripples through me. God, he knows what he’s doing, teasing my clit with his tongue before fucking me with it exactly like I hope he’ll do with his cock.

  One stroke that covers me from top to bottom, almost all the way to my ass. This man is filthy, and I love it. I’m more aroused than I ever remember being, and I don’t know if it’s because of the alcohol or because of the man himself and the way his mouth is sealed over me, sucking like his life depends on it.

  All at once he stands and pulls me away from the door and over to the couch. He playfully pushes me back and I happily sink into the couch, looking up at his eyes and his devilish grin. He drops to the floor and takes each of my feet out from my tangled panties and tosses them to the side. He slides his hands up my ankles and over my knees before covering my hips and pulling them to the edge of the couch. He hikes up my skirt even higher and peppers my hip bone with kisses and nips and licks, before dragging his tongue down my thigh. Then, with his rough hands, he parts my legs, and dives back to my pussy. He spreads my lips and starts at my clit, flattening his tongue and rubbing in circles. It’s a steady and building feeling, and my whole body is warming up. Slowly he works me like that until my fingers are digging into the leather couch and my entire body is vibrating.

  He pulls his mouth off me and puts two fingers inside me. They glide in without any friction; I’m so wet. He pumps his fingers slowly in and out of me, before pausing to bring them to his face, inhaling and then licking them clean. I can’t help but moan. “You smell just as amazing as you taste.” Then he fingers me again but this time he curls them so they brush my G-spot, like he has a fucking map to find it. Holy shit. No one I’ve ever been with has been able to do that. He fucks me with his fingers slowly, his face mere inches from my pussy, looking up at me and clearly getting turned on watching me get off.

  “Are you some kind of magician?”

  He chuckles before wrapping his lips around my swollen clit and sucking me deep as he thrusts his fingers into me. He keeps up his relentless rhythm, and I feel my orgasm build. I clutch the couch, his hair, and then back to the couch again. The feeling is flooding my senses and I feel like I’m floating out of my body. The only thing I know is that I don’t want him to stop. He can’t stop. His tongue flicks over my clit quickly, and he’s hitting just the right spot now. My hands fly back to his head and hold him there, not letting him move at all. I feel my pussy gushing over his fingers inside me, and my thighs are vise-like around his head now. Then it’s there. That spark of orgasm that had been building explodes, and all the blood in my body seems to rush south. I can’t hear anything except my pounding heart and a long drawn out moan that I’m not even sure is my own. I keep my hands tangled in his hair, wanting his clever tongue to keep licking, to draw out every amazing second of my orgasm. The sparks that I see as he sends me over into bliss are brighter than the fucking chandelier. “Oh, fuck,” I yell the words and they echo off the walls, louder than the music they pump into these rooms. My hips lift off the couch and my hands still hold his head right where I need him.

  If this room isn’t soundproof, the rest of the VIPs are about to get an earful, because I’m not a quiet fuck, and we’re not remotely finished. “There it is,” he murmurs, lips pressed to my skin. He keeps licking and fucking me with his hand, and my legs are shaking with the pleasure he’s forcing through me.

  I groan, low and long, as the orgasm recedes, and I’m left completely spent and sated. He grins up at me from between my legs, deliberately licking his lips, and his chin is glistening. Fuck, that’s hot.

  “Pretty generous for a guy I just met in a bar,” I say, still breathless. “Most guys would jump ahead to th
e end.”

  There’s a spark in his eyes, but his face is serious. “With me, women finish first. No exceptions.”

  Thank fuck his fingers aren’t still inside me because he would have felt the way my pussy clenched at those words.

  I picked a good one.

  “Your turn,” I say. “I need to see that ass.”

  Grinning, he stands and smoothly unbuttons his shirt.

  “That’s not going to show me your ass.”

  “Trust me,” he says, opening his shirt to show me rippling abs and that the tattoos continue up his arms and wind over his shoulders and chest. “That’s only a part of the show, and I come as a package deal.”

  I think I might faint. Total cliche, but that’s actually how perfect his body is. He’s got the V that every woman is jealous of, and the kind of carved muscles that speak to hours and hours of sweat. I can only imagine the kind of sweating he gets up to.

  I’m hoping that he’s about to show me just that.

  If I wasn’t angling to stay anonymous, I’d ask him what he did for a living because I highly doubt that a body like that is a result of a casual membership at the YMCA.

  Never taking his eyes off mine, he undoes his belt and drops his pants, stepping out of them, kicking off his shoes at the same time. It’s easy to see that he’s already hard, and not small. His cock matches the rest of him in both size and sheer hardness.

  He grins as he turns and drops his underwear, giving me a perfect view of his absolutely glorious ass. It gives the term “buns of steel” an actual literal definition. My hands are twitching to touch him. Taste him.

  “You’ve got your own work of art,” I say.