Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Holly was still reeling from the most carnal and satisfying orgasm she’d ever had when Connor traced a black paint-tipped finger down and around her breast. She’d escaped to the hayloft to clear her mind of her most recent nightmare and to forget about Connor for a few hours. When he’d walked through the door, her heart had turned leaden in her chest. It truly was a studio of horrors—any normal person would have backed out with their hands raised and called the police. But Connor had understood. In his line of work, he’d witnessed eternal grief, rage that was so potent it was a shackle, and desperation that could withstand time. Instead of the paintings scaring him away, somehow they’d drawn him closer.

He leaned forward and kissed inside the painted line, dragging his tongue over the sensitive skin until he reached her nipple, but he didn’t take her into his mouth. Instead, he focused on her other breast, painting another circle around it and then mimicking the stroke with his tongue.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he growled. “Why are you so addictive? From the moment I saw you, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.”

Her stomach dipped even as her shoulders fell back, granting him further access. She knew exactly what he meant. A breeze played with her hair, and she was vaguely aware that she was venting a thin stream of power. She’d never before lost control of her power during intimacy. What was it about Connor that made her break through all her self-restraint and rules?

He continued kissing her breasts until she was desperate for more, for him , and only then did he take one peak into his mouth. He released her and murmured encouragingly into her skin, “I think you can come again for me, can’t you, Holly?” He brought his hand up to cup her other breast before remembering it was covered in paint. He growled in frustration. “I didn’t think this through.”

Holly flexed her legs around his waist as his lips found her neck instead, kissing the column of her throat, then her ear, and finally her mouth. She placed her hands on either side of his head and held him to her as they made out with the wild passion of teenagers, his painted hands sliding over her skin and smudging her with color.

She was entirely naked while he still wore jeans and a T-shirt, and although she enjoyed the vulnerable and sexy feeling, she was ready to even the score. She yanked his T-shirt over his head and tried not to let her jaw drop. Connor Grimm was seriously cut. She’d caught a glimpse of his abs before in the attic, but with his shirt off she was finally able to drink in the sight of him with a throaty noise of feminine approval. He had defined arms and shoulders that his Grimm Reality white polo didn’t do justice to, and his broad chest was dusted with hair. A pentagram was tattooed on his right pectoral, the ink freshly black, as if he’d just had it touched up. His waist was thick with muscle, each one delineated in a way she hadn’t ever seen on an actual human before.

Connor’s hooded gaze took in her unashamed appreciation until Holly finally tore her eyes away. She laid her palm in the spilled black ink, and heat flared in his eyes when she pressed her hand flat to his chest, covering his heart. When she pulled away, she stared at her mark on him and swallowed, irrationally moved by the stupid, accidental symbolism.

Because she was far more affected than she should have been, then she wanted to be, she smeared the handprint into a black streak, cupped her painted hand around his neck, and pulled his mouth to hers again.

After that they were a blur of paint and hands, mouths and tongues and teeth. She was giggling as she tried to unbuckle his belt without getting paint on it when she heard heels clacking on the stairs that led to the hayloft.

Her panicked eyes met his. She was entirely nude, and he was stripped down to the waist, both of them covered in paint, their play literally written all over their bodies.

Connor yanked her off the table and shoved her behind him, concealing her with his body just as the door burst open and Missy stomped into the room.

“There you are!” she shouted to Connor. “Your crew needs you, and they’ve been looking for you all over the damned property. Wait … why are you covered in paint? Is that … is that Holly behind you?”

Holly groaned and pressed her forehead into his back. “I’m going to die,” she whispered.

Connor squeezed her arm once before clearing his throat and saying, “If you could give us a few minutes, Missy. Tell my crew I’ll be out when I can.”

Missy didn’t say anything, and Holly didn’t dare peek around Connor to view her expression, but a moment later the door closed.

Connor spun around and they looked at each other—splattered in painted handprints and caught by her younger sister—and burst into laughter.

Holly was lying on her bed after showering, her face pressed into her pillow as she vacillated between the extreme humiliation of being caught sans panties with the one man she should not be fooling around with, and reliving the memory of the hottest climax of her life.

Connor Grimm had given her oral, and she would never be the same. She was destroyed for eternity.

Jeremy couldn’t even bother reciprocating, while Connor had blown her mind without a single thought to his own pleasure, aside from the fact that it had seemed like he’d really enjoyed making her come, and hell if that hadn’t made it even sexier.

Someone knocked on the door, and a moment later Missy poked her face in. Holly buried her head under the pillow and mumbled, “ Now you knock?”

“How was I supposed to know you were banging Connor Grimm?” Missy asked, depressing the edge of the bed as she sat down. “It must’ve been those alpha-wolfy eyes. I cannot imagine any other reason my very stern and uptight older sister would be entirely covered in paint and looking like she was having hotter sex than even I’ve had, and that’s saying something.”

“We haven’t had sex thanks to you.”

Missy yanked the pillow off Holly’s head, her smile wide. “This is kind of fun. Mature Holly, so entirely sure she was immune to the charms of the big bad ghost hunter.”

“I hate you. Why are you here?”

“To torture you, of course,” Missy said, glancing at her nails and frowning. “I need a manicure. Oh, also the aunts want to tell you something about that journal of Autumn’s you gave them.”

After Holly had pilfered the journal, which was a silly way to think of it considering it was her house and therefore her journal, she’d told her aunts about the oddity of Autumn’s journals all being blank, even though each one was carefully labeled with the year. The aunts had agreed that it was strange and had promised to look into it.

Holly finally peeled her face off the mattress. “What did they say?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention because I’ve been answering nonstop emails about the show. Hey, do you think I should ask Mike out on a date? He was devastated about his little puppy, and that really redeemed him in my eyes.”

“Ugh, Missy!” Holly rolled off the bed and grabbed the hoodie hanging from the back of her desk chair.

“I know, right? Should I really ruin a friendship on the off chance I can stand him longer than a few weeks?”

“No! That’s not why I said ugh .”

“Wait,” Missy cried, catching her arm. “Before you go, I think you need to have the Big Sister Talk.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve never had a big sister, so I’ve designated myself the deliverer of the Big Sister Talk—you know, like the talk you gave me in high school, where you told me to be careful with my heart and always have on lip gloss.”

“I’m pretty sure lip gloss did not factor into the talk.”

She waved her hand. “Close enough. The thing is, I know you, Holly, and you’re not really someone who enjoys sex.”

“I do too!”

Missy blew out a stream of air that made a strand of red hair dance across her forehead. “That’s not what I meant. This Big Sister Talk stuff is hard. What I meant is that for you sex is intertwined with feelings, so I think you can understand why I might be worried that you’re fooling around with Connor. I mean God, the man is so hot he could make candles smoke with a look, but he’s bouncing when the episodes wrap up, and I don’t want you to get hurt when he leaves.”

Holly pulled Missy into a hug. “Thanks, Missy. It’s kind of nice to be worried over.”

“Yes, well, it’s not very fun doing the worrying. I don’t know how you manage it all the time.”

“You can rest easy. I know Connor is leaving. Even though I never meant for anything to happen with him, I’m beginning to think I need to live a little more freely and go after what I want, like you do.”

Missy preened. “I am excellent at living freely.”

“Please don’t tell anyone else about Connor,” Holly begged. “I’m not prepared for that. And when he leaves, I don’t want to be asked about it by everyone and coddled. I just want to be able to move on.”

Missy crossed her heart, but as Holly left the room she shouted down the hallway, “Make sure you use condoms!”

Holly closed her eyes in exasperation. Missy had been loud enough that Holly would be surprised if Connor hadn’t heard her all the way out in his trailer.