Hold: Gently Hers Book 4

By Goldie Wright

Aaron has never been a "take-charge" kind of guy.
But someone is there to anchor him: Genevieve, his wife.
And she has always known how to take charge. He will be safe and loved under her firm, but gentle guidance.

Hold is a novella of 18k words, and a standalone book of the Gently Hers series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Goldie Wright
• Release date: Jul 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463608302

Goldie Wright

Goldie Wright lives in the US. Fiction writing is one of her many pursuits, but she has also been known to stargaze and spend far too much time on the internet.

Book preview

HOLD

BOOK 4 OF THE GENTLY HERS SERIES

Copyright 2019 Goldie Wright

All Rights Reserved

Published by Goldie Wright at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, items, and events are either the product of the creator's imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead; events; items; businesses; or places is purely coincidental.

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1

This time it was bad. Very bad. Beyond bad. The tie was a noose around his neck, the collar a pair of strangling hands, the suit confining him like a cage. Aaron was trapped in his office, in his clothes, and in his very skin.

Aaron was panicking. He knew that he was panicking, but knowing didn't do anything about it. Only getting out of the department would help. Getting out now.

So he did. He made the choice to go. Anyone just glancing in his direction would have seen him rise from his desk, then calmly button his suit jacket once he was standing. They couldn't help but see him when his office consisted of more windows than walls. There were blinds, but lowering those would draw attention. Staying was not an option, anyway.

He left his office, telling his assistant that he was going on a break. There was a trace of a question on her face, so he hurried off before she could ask anything. If she asked, he might say something stupid, or worse, lose his composure right there.

The breakdown came, but not where anyone could see it. It happened on the stairs. His department wasn't that high up, only the sixth story in a building of ten. He couldn't handle the elevators right now. Elevators would mean people. He got half a flight down before his panic completely erupted. Pounding heart, shaking hands, gasping mouth, the works. He sank down on weak legs, clutching the handrail for support.

Aaron.

No, not her. Anyone but her. The rest of the world could see him like this, but not her. Not his wife.

Aaron, talk to me.

Fingers brushed his shoulder as he turned toward her. He flinched without meaning to, blinking back tears.

Genevieve stood on the landing behind him, leaning down. She had pulled her hand back, though it still hung in the air between them. It was hard to see her face with the overhead lights behind her and streaming through her black hair. She had started wearing it down again. It looked good. She looked good.

Baby, what is it? she said. Her voice was so soft that he actually found it in himself to stand.

He wobbled as he reached the landing, and she took him into her arms, one hand stroking his back as he pressed his knees to the floor and his head to her chest. It seemed like hours before he got hold of himself, and when he finally pulled away from her, she drew a hand forward to wipe tears from his hot, aching face.

There was a damp place on her blouse where he had cried, but he hardly noticed it. He could only see how hard her nipples were against the dark purple fabric. Jesus, he must have been right up against her breasts, and she had not been wearing a padded bra. He could not have planned this to be more embarrassing.

If she was embarrassed, her face showed no hint of it. What's wrong?

I haven't seen you for a week, he said, because it was true. No longer having her around was part of what had gone wrong with his life. Only part, but he had himself to blame for that and everything else.

She frowned, though not in anger. Her expression was worried and guilty, as if his weakness was somehow her fault. And that has you like this? she said. Our separation?

Genevieve had always known when he lied. She had once said that he was too honest with people he loved, and that he had too many tells. Lying to her would not get him anywhere.

No, he said. It's not just — he could not bring himself to say the word separation — that. It's something else. The admittance left him feeling drained, and he had barely admitted to anything at all.

Her hand cupped the side of his face, her palm wonderfully cool on his skin. She watched him, her dark blue eyes warm. They were always warm, despite blue being such a cold color. Then what is it? she said. You can tell me.

He looked around, suddenly conscious of how exposed they were in the stairwell. Anyone could hear them. Not here, please.

Okay, she said. We'll go to sales. When he tensed at that suggestion, she ran her hand up into his hair. Don't worry; everyone's out. Early dinner. I was on my way to meet with them, but ... She