Chapter 281: Don’t Deny Me

David’s POV

The bathroom door clicked shut behind me, and the second I was alone, the mask cracked.

I leaned my palms flat against the sink, staring at my reflection like it belonged to someone else. Pupils blown. Jaw clenched so tight my teeth ached. Cock still throbbing painfully against the zipper of my pants like it had a personal vendetta. I almost fucked her out there. Almost lost the whole damn plan in one reckless moment when she arched into my mouth and moaned my name like a prayer.

I didn’t want that tonight.

That wasn’t the plan.

Tonight was supposed to be soft. Slow. The kind of care that sinks under skin and stays there. The massages, the feeding, the teasing without release…it was supposed to make her trust me deeper, make her crave me so badly she’d follow me anywhere. Not this. Not me nearly burying myself inside her and ruining everything because I couldn’t keep my dick in check.

I stripped fast…shirt yanked over my head, pants shoved down, boxers kicked off. The cool tile under my feet did nothing to help. My cock sprang free, thick and angry, already leaking at the tip. I gripped it hard. Too hard. Punishing myself as much as I was chasing relief.

Images slammed into me.

Her thighs spread wide on the couch. The way she leaned into every touch like she was starving for it. Those little gasps when my tongue first flicked her clit…sharp, surprised, then melting into long, broken moans.

How soft she felt under my hands. How right. How fucking perfect her taste was…sweet and salty and so wet I could’ve drowned in her and died happy.

I started stroking. Rough. Fast. No patience left.

My other hand slapped against the glass shower door for balance. The mirror fogged from my breathing. I groaned her name low in my throat—“Holly…”and it echoed off the tiles like a confession.

Faster.

Harder.

Picturing her hips bucking against my face, fingers yanking my hair, thighs clamping around my head like she never wanted to let go.

I came hard. Heavy. Spilling over my fist in thick, hot pulses that left me shaking. A long, ragged sigh tore out of me as the tension finally snapped.

I stood there for a minute, chest heaving, water from the faucet still running cold over my knuckles.

Then I cleaned up. Washed my hands and body. Dried off slowly…every movement deliberate, buying time. Pulled on clean black boxer briefs and nothing else. Then I got busy and made the bed…trying my best to keep up the appearance of a cool headed guy.

When I stepped back into the living room, the chair she was sitting on earlier was empty except for the rumpled throw blanket.

She was already asleep on the longer couch. Curled on her side, knees tucked up, my shirt riding high on her thighs. Hair fanned across the cushion. Lips parted just enough to let out soft little breaths.

I stopped dead and just looked.

The way the lamplight caught the curve of her cheek. The faint freckles across her nose I’d never noticed before. How peaceful she looked…like she trusted me enough to let her guard all the way down.

Something twisted in my chest, sharp and unwelcome.

I slapped my own face once and hard.

“Get it together, champ,” I muttered under my breath. “You don’t love her. You don’t get to feel anything. Get the job done. Use her. Leave. That’s it.”

I crossed the room before I could talk myself out of it. Scooped her up…careful, gentle despite myself. She weighed nothing. Warm. Soft. Her head lolled against my shoulder and she sighed in her sleep like she knew exactly where she was supposed to be.

I carried her to my bedroom. Laid her down on the king bed like she was made of glass. Pulled the sheets over her. Tucked them around her shoulders.

I was already turning to leave when her hand shot out.

Fingers curled into my wrist.

She mumbled something…barely audible.

I leaned down. Close enough to feel her breath on my cheek.

“Mason…”

The name hit like a blade between the ribs.

Mason.

No one had called me that in years. Not since LA. Not since Ava and being caught between the Millers and the Jameson’s.

I froze. How could she be calling out to me even in her sleep? Does that mean that this mission will soon end?

Holly said it again…sleepy, sweet, trusting with a little smile tugging at her lips. “Mason Brown…”

The wound I thought had scabbed over split wide open despite whatever I felt hearing her say that name.

I am not Mason Brown. That was a character Jameson created to help him destroy the Millers.

I unhooked her fingers from my arm…gently, even though I wanted to rip my own skin off. Then I stepped back and crossed to the window.

Pulled a cigarette from the pack I kept on the sill. Lit it with shaking hands and inhaled deep. The smoke burned going down.

Ava.

I’d fallen for her instead of finishing the job. Let feelings get in the way. Let her get too close. And when it all went to hell, I walked away a failure.

Now here I am again.

Same playbook.

Different girl.

Ava’s little sister.

Holly.

I crushed the cigarette butt into the ashtray so hard the glass cracked.

Enough of self loathing. If I had gotten the job done back then, we wouldn’t be here again.

So I need to finish this smoothly, once and for all.

I went back to bed. Slid in beside her…keeping space between us.

The second my weight dipped the mattress, she moved.

Scooted over like a heat-seeking missile. Wrapped herself around me…arm over my waist, leg thrown across my thigh, face tucked into my neck.

Instantly hard again.

I gritted my teeth. Tried to push her away…gentle, but firm.

She clung tighter. Murmured something soft and content against my skin.

I exhaled through my nose. Long. Defeated. ‘Easy boy. This is going to be a long fucking night.’

Morning came too soon.

First ray of sunlight sliced through the blinds and landed across my face.

Then I felt it…warm, soft weight draped over me.

I blinked. Confused for half a second until I remembered last night.

Then I turned my head.

Holly was beside me…her back to me now. My shirt had ridden up in the night, bunched around her waist. The tiny black lace of her panties was the only thing covering her ass, and it was pressed firmly against my thigh. Every small shift of her hips rubbed her right where I was already straining.

I swallowed hard as my hands moved on instinct…settling on her waist like I was going to push her off.

But my fingers flexed instead. Dug in just a little.

Fuck.

I was rock-hard. Aching. I cursed under my breath and started to slide out from under her. I should leave before I lose control.

Her hand shot forward instantly as she grabbed my hips and pulled me down.

Then she rolled. Suddenly she was on top of me…straddling my hips, knees bracketing my waist, hands planted on my chest.

Her hair was messy…eyes sleepy but sharp. Lips curved in a slow, dangerous smile.

“You denied me last night,” she said, voice cracking from sleep. “This morning? You won’t be so lucky, boss.”