Chapter 278: Will He kill Me, Or Not?

Holly’s POV

As soon as those words left his mouth, the house suddenly felt too quiet…too full of him.

David’s hand lingered at the small of my back for one extra heartbeat before he guided me toward the living room. My pulse was already a mess, hammering in my ears, my throat, lower.

I couldn’t stop the thoughts. Dirty, reckless ones that flooded in the second his fingers brushed my skin.

Him pressing me against this very wall.

His mouth on my neck…gentle this time, then not.

Those big hands sliding under my shirt, rough palms dragging up my ribs, thumbs circling my nipples until I arched and begged.

Him lifting me onto the kitchen counter, spreading my thighs, sinking to his knees and—

God. Stop.

I forgot, for a hot second, that I was supposed to be careful around him. That everyone kept saying “be careful.”

That his hand had been around my throat earlier tonight. All I could picture was him stripping me slowly, reverent, like I was something he’d been starving for all night long. No rush. Just him taking me apart piece by piece until I couldn’t remember my own name.

He steered me to the big, plush armchair in the corner…the one that smelled faintly of his cologne..and eased me down like I might shatter.

“Take it off,” he said, voice low and calm.

My breath caught so hard it hurt.

Take it off?

My brain short-circuited at that moment. Was he seriously telling me to get undressed right here?

Did he have zero self-control? Not that I had any either…my nipples were already tight under my bra, my thighs pressing together like that would stop the ache building between them.

I reached for the hem of my shirt, fingers trembling, ready to yank it over my head and let whatever happened earlier to remain in the past.

Then I caught his teasing grin…soft, amused and a little wicked.

“Whoa,” he said, laughing under his breath. “What do you take me for, sweetheart?”

I froze, shirt halfway up my stomach.

He knelt in front of me…actually knelt…big hands gentle on my ankles. “I meant your shoes.”

Oh.

My face burned so hot I thought I might combust.

Embarrassment crashed over me first…pure, mortifying heat. Then confusion…why was he being so careful, so tender? And how am I supposed to react to this? Because no man had ever knelt to take my shoes off like it was a privilege.

He slipped one heels off, then the other, thumbs brushing the arch of my foot in slow, soothing strokes. His touch was so careful it made my chest ache in a different way. Not lust. Something softer. Dangerous in its own right.

When he finished, he stayed on his knees for a second longer, looking up at me with those dark eyes that saw too much.

“Come on,” he murmured. “Let me take care of you.”

He led me to the bathroom, turned on the tap for the tub, tested the water until it was perfect…warm, not scalding. Added some kind of lavender oil that made the steam smell like heaven. While the tub filled, he disappeared for a minute and came back with one of his button-downs…soft gray cotton, ironed crisp…and laid it on the counter.

“Keep your clothes outside the door after undressing,” he said quietly. “I’ll wash them. You can wear this tonight.”

I nodded, throat too tight to speak.

He left me to undress in private, closing the door with another soft click. I quickly got out of my work clothes and opened the door slightly to keep them where he told me to.

When I sank into the water, every muscle sighed. The heat soaked into my bones, loosening the knots I hadn’t even realized were there.

I stayed until my fingers pruned, then climbed out, wrapped in his huge towel, and slipped into his shirt. It hung to mid-thigh, sleeves swallowing my hands, smelling like him…clean soap and something darker, warmer.

He was waiting when I stepped out. As soon as I shut the bathroom door, he took my hand and led me back into the living room.

“Sit,” he said, nodding to a gray fluffy rug he must have laid out.

I did.

He sat behind me, legs bracketing mine, and started with my shoulders. His thumbs dug in slow, deep circles…firm enough to hurt in the best way, then easing off into gentle strokes.

He worked down my arms, massaging my hands one at a time, rolling each finger between his palms like he was memorizing them. Then back up to my neck.

He paused there…right where the bruises would bloom tomorrow…and pressed the softest, most careful kiss to the skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to me. “Never again. I would never hurt you like that again.”

My eyes fluttered closed as I hummed an unintelligible response.

He moved to my scalp next…fingertips scratching lightly through my hair, then down to my temples, slow drags that made my whole body melt. My head lolled back against his chest without permission.

Then my feet. He lifted one into his lap, thumbs pressing into the arch, rolling over the ball, tugging each toe gently. The other foot got the same treatment. Every touch was deliberate, reverent, no grabby urgency…just pure, aching tenderness.

This is beyond amazing.

My pussy was throbbing by the end…hot, slick, pulsing with every slow circle of his thumbs. I wanted to climb into his lap and grind against him until we both broke. But I couldn’t ask. Wouldn’t. And he didn’t push. Didn’t slide a hand higher. Didn’t take what I didn’t give.

He just… took care of me like he said he would.

When he finally finished, he draped a soft throw over my lap and stood.

“Relax here,” he said, brushing a kiss to my forehead. “I’m gonna make you something to eat. Watch whatever you want on Netflix. Just… rest.”

He walked away, disappearing down the hallway toward the kitchen.

My mind spun the second he was gone.

Is this how he does it?

Butter me up, make me feel safe, feed me, pamper me…then carve me up like a Thanksgiving turkey when I’m too blissed-out to fight back?

I snatched my phone off the coffee table and dialed Kayla before I could talk myself out of it.

She answered on the second ring. “Bitch, it’s late. You better be bleeding or on fire.”

“I won’t be back tonight,” I blurted.

A beat of silence. Then… “You’re at the hot neighbor’s place, aren’t you?”

“No. He’s taken. Long story for another day.” I swallowed. “I’m… at David’s. Spending the night here.”

Kayla sucked in a breath. “David? As in choke-you-in-the-office David? The one you’re crazy about?”

“Yeah,” I replied simply. “But I’m scared. I keep thinking that he might… I don’t know… kill me.”

She didn’t say anything for a full second and then exhaled. “Holly, I don’t even want to know why you think he might want to kill you. If you don’t come home tomorrow, I’m calling the police and telling them to lock his ass up as the prime suspect.”

I laughed…my voice shaky and raw, “Pray for me so I don’t end up raping him first.”

She swallowed hard. “Why the fuck do you want to rape someone you’re scared might kill you? Are you the one in danger here, or is he?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “All I know is that one of us is in danger.”

Kayla let out a dramatic breath. “Jesus, Hols. Can you be serious? Okay, back to your batshit situation. You’re at Murder-Hot boss’s house, he’s acting suspicious, and you’re worried you’re gonna jump his bones before he jumps yours…literally. Did I get that right?”

I pressed my free hand to my forehead. “Pretty much.”

She laughed…low, wicked, the sound that always meant she was about to say something unforgivable. “Okay, listen to me, you horny disaster. If you’re gonna rape the man who might be planning to murder you, at least do it strategically.”

“Kayla—” I began, but she cut me off with the most ridiculous advice ever.