Taking What's His (Entangled Brazen)

Home > Other > Taking What's His (Entangled Brazen) > Page 2
Taking What's His (Entangled Brazen) Page 2

by Diane Alberts


  And she’d finally found that guy.

  Being good was boring. It was time to have a little fun.

  “Excuse me?” the guy said. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on why, or how. And she didn’t care why, either. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

  She fought back a smile. The dude seemed shocked she’d said yes, but hey, to be fair, so was she. “Oh, you heard me well enough,” she said, losing herself in his dark blue eyes. It took all her concentration to carry on a conversation with him, when all she could think about was kissing him again. “I said, let’s go.”

  He stared at her with an amusing mixture of surprise and desire. It was even more perfectly clear that when he’d made that invitation, he hadn’t expected her to accept. But there was something about this guy that demanded submission. That demanded she go home with him, have the time of her life, and leave with a limp and a smile on her face in the morning. This guy could give her both those things.

  On the surface, he looked like a nerdy, hot dude in glasses and a checkered shirt. Like he was more at home sitting on his couch playing his Xbox One, than sitting in a bar. She’d bet too many women wrote him off that way, too. But she’d been surrounded by two geek brothers and all their friends her whole life. And one thing she learned by eavesdropping—as younger sisters do—outside their doors? Geeks were the dirtiest, freakiest, sexiest men of them all. Hands down. And this guy might be the king of them all.

  He stood up, towering over her, and dragged a hand through his hair. It spiked naturally as an aftereffect. “My ride’s out front.”

  As he rummaged in his wallet, she studied him from underneath her lashes. He was six-foot-three, easily, and he had dark auburn hair and even darker blue eyes. He seemed to be the type of guy that was persistently just a little bit scruffy, and it suited him. Just like those khakis that hugged his butt.

  He reeked of dark, stormy, addictive sex, and she was ready to collect.

  Tossing a twenty on the bar, he turned back to her with a penetrating stare—as if he saw why she was going home with him, and understood better than she herself did. Which, of course, made no sense at all. His long, lean body wasn’t overly muscular, but she could tell that he was stronger than he appeared. She could see it in the hardness of his arms, and the way he carried himself. He was a man accustomed to physical activity.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  Nope. “Oh yeah.” She started for the door, but he rushed past her and opened it before she could do it for herself. So. He was a gentleman, too. This guy was an enigma she longed to unwrap…one article of clothing at a time. “Thank you, Mister…?”

  He cocked a brow at her. “If you’re going home with me, I think you can use my first name.”

  “Fine. I’m Lydia.”

  “I’m Holt.”

  And just like that, she knew why she recognized him. He was her older brother Steven’s friend. They worked at the same private security agency, and Steven had posted a few pictures of them together on Facebook. Every time she’d seen him, she’d been unable to glance away. There was just something that had caught her attention on the screen, so it was no wonder he’d caught her attention in real life, too.

  “Oh my God. I know—” She cut herself off in the nick of time.

  If she told him who she was, would he end their night together right here in the parking lot? She had no idea how close her brother and Holt were, but she had a feeling their bro code would make him leave the bar alone, and she didn’t want him to back off. She wanted him to get on.

  He ran his finger over her jawline. “What do you know?”

  “Uh…nothing. Nothing at all.”

  Watching her closely, he let out a soft laugh. “You know nothing at all? I find that hard to believe.”

  “Do you go to that bar often?”

  He shook his head, still smiling. “That’s the worst pickup line ever, and you’re a horrible subject changer.”

  “That’s not entirely accurate. I already picked you up,” she pointed out, her heart racing. “So I must be doing something right.”

  “Some might argue that I’m the one who picked you up.”

  “No way. I asked you to kiss me,” she said quickly, glancing up at him. In the moonlight, he looked even darker. Even sexier, too. “So I made the first move.”

  “I disagree. I always make the first move, and this was no fucking exception. I agreed to kiss you, so that was my first move.” He walked her around the side of the building and spun her so her back rested against it, capturing her hands by her head. For a second, fear hit her hard in the gut. But then he pressed his body against hers, and fear became desire. So. Much. Desire. “And this is the second.”

  Her breath whooshed out of her lungs. “Oh?”

  “Tell me what you’re doing out here, alone, with me.” He trailed his hand down her jawline, his touch as soft as a misty rain on a spring day, and yet as sharp as a razor’s edge, too. “You can’t possibly think going home with me is better than going home alone, just because some prick broke your heart. I’m trying to be a good guy here…”

  “I want to go home with you,” she said, laughing. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

  His jaw tightened. “You have no idea how dangerous a guy like me can be.”

  Her heart picked up speed, but she wasn’t sure what from—the desire his dominant words brought out in her, or the intimidation that he’d managed to hold over her head. He was good. “Why are you dangerous?”

  “Why would you think I wasn’t?” His fingers skimmed over her cleavage. Her neckline was chaste and high, so he had to dip his fingers under her shirt to do so. “I went to that bar, looking for a good fuck, like always, and you sat next to me. That makes me opportunistic, but it doesn’t make me a good guy.”

  She lifted her chin. “I came looking for the same thing. I sat next to you for a reason.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. She hadn’t, but then she’d seen him. She couldn’t think of a better guy to spend the night with than Holt. “So…there.”

  “I don’t believe you. You said your boyfriend of two months broke up with you because you didn’t put out.” He gripped the tip of her chin, latching onto her gaze. “That tells me you don’t jump into bed with just any guy. You don’t even know me. And yet, here we are, and you’re ready to fuck me without a second thought. I’m not usually one to question such things, but with you…I am. I want to know you’re certain.”

  “I didn’t sleep with him, no.” Her cheeks heated, and she pressed her thighs together. It was on the tip of her tongue to admit who she was to him, and why that made her more comfortable to take a chance on him, but she didn’t want to risk it. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it with you, though.”

  “Why?”

  “You make me want to. Okay?” She blew out a frustrated breath. “You make me want you, so I’m going to take you. Is that such a horrible thing? Does there need to be more?”

  His grip on her hands flexed, and he slipped his thigh in between hers. His mouth pressed against her pulse, sending her BPM through the roof. “Nope. But, squeezing your hot little legs together won’t make your pussy feel better. You need me for that.”

  Her stomach clenched tight. He’d said…he…oh my God, that was hot. She’d known that underneath those glasses was a bad boy who knew exactly what to do with a good girl like her. “Holt.”

  “Yeah?” he asked, nibbling on her lower neck.

  “Take me home with you.”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely.” He pushed off the wall, and she immediately missed his touch. It was electrifying. “Come with me.”

  He placed a hand on her lower back and steered her toward the last row of cars. In the middle was a dark grey Toyota Prius. It had Doctor Who stickers all over it, and a TARDIS on the side, too. It was totally the type of car she could picture a guy like Holt driving. She stopped beside it.

  Stumbling a bit, he stopped and blinked at her.r />
  After a moment, he opened his mouth, and closed it. As if he was trying to gather his thoughts. “Did you want to drive to my place separately or something?”

  “Um…” What a weird question. Why would she want to drive his car? “No. I didn’t drive here, so I don’t have a car with me.”

  “Okay.” He blinked at her again. “Then why are we standing here?”

  “Because it’s your car?”

  His eyes narrowed. “No, it’s not. Mine’s the red truck at the end.”

  “But…oh.” Her cheeks heated. “I’m sorry. I just, uh—”

  He pointed at it. “You assumed I drove an environment friendly roller skate with Doctor Who stickers plastered all over it?”

  “Y-Yes?”

  He snorted. “Not fucking likely. I don’t put stickers on my truck, not even for the Doctor. It damages the paint.”

  She latched onto that last part. “But you do like Doctor Who?”

  “Of course.” He led her toward the truck at the end. “Do you?”

  “Uh, yeah. What’s not to like?”

  He stopped walking. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. Ten is my favorite, but eleven is a close sec—”

  Growling, he threw her up against his truck, his mouth closing over hers hungrily. She gasped and parted her lips, which he took full advantage of. His tongue brushed up against hers, and he made the sexiest sound she’d ever heard in her life. She fisted her hands on his shirt, tugging him closer, and he gave her what she wanted.

  And then he gave her even more.

  His hand slipped between her legs, brushing against her core exactly where she needed him most, and even through her jeans the result was electrifying. How had he known? His mouth moved over hers at the same time as his fingers did, hard and fast. She’d kissed plenty of guys here and there—okay, fine. Five. But still—she’d been kissed before, and she’d even had sex.

  But she’d never felt like this.

  There was no stopping the immense pleasure he brought to life with his touch. It crashed through her, intense and fast. He muffled her moans with his mouth, his fingers circling and swirling and—oh my God. Her nails dug into her palms, even through his shirt, and she stiffened. Stars erupted in front of her eyes, and an inescapable pleasure surged over her whole body. So…that was an orgasm. “Holt, oh my God.”

  “I’m here.” He chuckled and broke off the kiss, his lips a breath from hers. “That was so fucking cute.”

  Shoot. Me. Now. “Cute? Did you seriously call my orgasm cute?”

  Oh, God. He laughed even harder. “I get it. I know why you’re coming home with me now. You’re horny as fuck, and so am I. So let’s go.”

  He latched hands with her and led her around to the passenger side of his truck. After he opened the door for her, he lifted her up and set her in the seat as if she didn’t weigh anything at all. He closed the door behind her with a wink, and strode around the back of the truck whistling. He’d just given her her first orgasm ever, had no clue who she was, and was whistling as if he didn’t have a care in the world. She was ready to pounce on him and demand he give her more. Lots more.

  He opened the door and climbed into his truck, starting it with a twist of his wrist. “Buckle up.”

  She blinked at him. “What?”

  “Buckle.” He clicked his seatbelt. “Up. Now.”

  “Oh. Right.” Blinking, she shook her head and did as told. As soon as it clicked, he threw his arm over her seat and backed up. He looked as cool as a cucumber, without a single tremor to be seen, and she was a quivering mess. “Why did you…do that?”

  “Make you come?” he asked, his lips quirked into a small smile. “Isn’t that kind of why we’re going to my place?”

  Her cheeks heated. “Well, yeah. But why here?”

  “You started talking nerdy to me.” He shrugged. “I liked it, so I rewarded you.”

  Rewarded her? “Oh, I’ve got plenty more where that came from.” She grinned. “My favorite moment with Ten and Rose is when—”

  His fingers flexed on the wheel, and his jaw tensed. Gone was the teasing smile he’d worn moments before. He shot her a commanding look, his jaw line hard and unyielding. “Save it for my place.”

  Part of her wanted to keep going. Tease him some more. But the other part of her instinctually sensed the power leashed underneath the words. And that part of her obeyed without question. “Yes, sir.”

  “Yeah.” His fingers flexed even more. “You’ll be calling that out later, too.”

  Her stomach tightened, and she clenched her fists in her lap. “Holt.”

  “Lydia.”

  The way he said her name… “I’m not going to call you sir.”

  Smirking, he adjusted his grip on the wheel. “Yeah. You will.”

  Instead of answering, she swallowed hard and kept silent. The way he said it…yeah, it made her think he was right. And that was equal parts thrilling and scary. His dark auburn hair reflected the streetlights, and so did his dark blue eyes. And when he smiled, she could see dimples underneath his sexy scruff. Not that he was smiling now. Instead, he looked determined.

  Beneath it all, his gaze held a sadness to them she’d never seen before. What had put that shadow in his eyes? Where had he been? What had he seen? She was dying to know. Almost as much as she was dying to kiss him again.

  He stopped in front of a house. It was two-story brick colonial, fairly large, and it looked like the type of place a guy in his twenties wouldn’t step foot in.

  She stared at it. “Is this your house?”

  “Yeah.” He shut off the truck and jumped out of it. She opened her door and hopped down, landing on both feet. He was there waiting for her. How had he moved so fast? “But we have to be quiet. My mom’s sleeping upstairs. I live in the basement.”

  She froze. “Oh my—”

  “I’m kidding.” He burst into laughter, holding his stomach. “You’re so fucking gullible. It’s adorable.”

  Her cheeks went hot. “I am not.”

  “Yeah, you are.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door. “But only about this, because you seem to think I’m a gamer geek who never grew up or moved out of his parent’s house.”

  Okay. He was right. She totally had pre-conceived opinions about him, but she also knew that under that facade, he was more. “I’m sorry.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Nothing to be sorry for. I don’t give a fuck.”

  “So…about that gullibility thing. You were kidding about the whole ‘sir’ thing, too, then, weren’t you?”

  He shook his head. “Hell no.”

  “But I—” Don’t know how I feel about that yet. She cut herself off when he opened the door and motioned her inside.

  As she walked into the living room, hugging herself, she glanced around. The house was pleasantly furnished. Modern, with a hint of elegance. Not a single Darth Vader suit to be found. Not even a single cosplay outfit. It looked nothing like she’d expected. You’re outta your league, here, Lydia.

  “Want a drink?” he asked, hanging his keys on the hook by the door. There were four hooks, but only one set of keys. “I have pretty much anything you’d want.”

  She set her purse down in the foyer. “Do you have white wine?”

  “Moscato okay?”

  “Yeah. That’s great.” She followed him into the kitchen, greedily eating up every single detail of his home. “You have a nice place.”

  “Thanks.” He pulled out two wine glasses, falling silent. She got the impression, again, that he was thinking over his next words. He seemed to do that a lot. “I bought it sight unseen when I moved here for my job.”

  “What do you do?”

  He poured the wine with a less than steady hand. “I’m an IT guy. Go ahead. Laugh. Stereotypes and all that shit.”

  “I’m not going to laugh,” she said softly, taking the full glass he handed her. “Heck, I don’t even have a job yet, so I’m certainly not going to laugh
at someone who does.”

  He filled his own glass, and raised it in a toast. They both drank. “What did you go to college for?”

  She wasn’t sure how much Steven had talked about her, but she answered honestly anyway. She might not want to tell him who she was, but she wasn’t about to lie to him. She wasn’t a liar. There just wasn’t a reason to complicate things between them. She’d been waiting for a guy like him to come along and awaken her urges, so to speak.

  And now he was here.

  They’d have their fun, and then they’d never see each other again. He was work-buddies with her brother. It wasn’t as if there would be awkward family dinners afterward or anything. He’d never even have to know he’d slept with his friend’s little sister. The bro code would remain intact.

  “I got my nursing degree.” She sipped her wine. “I just graduated from St. Joseph’s, and I’m currently trying to find a good OR nurse position…and failing.”

  “Ah.” He stepped closer, towering over her. He smelled so good. She didn’t know what type of cologne he wore, but she’d never smelled it before. “I’ll let you know if I hear of any openings.”

  She took another big gulp of wine. He wouldn’t be around in her life long enough for that, so it was an empty promise and they both knew it. “Thanks.”

  “But for now,” he paused and rubbed his jaw. “Let’s talk expectations for tonight.”

  “Okay…”

  “One night. That’s all I ever offer anyone.” He tugged on her hair. It sent tingles shooting through her veins, and she got lost in his dark blue eyes. His glasses framed them perfectly. “One wild, crazy night, and then we both move on. No broken hearts. No painful goodbyes.”

  She laughed uneasily. “I don’t need you to define the perimeters of a one-night stand. It’s not exactly rocket science.”

  “Fair enough.” His lips twitched. “Just making sure we’re on the same page, is all. I can’t afford to have someone get hurt because they mistook something I said in that bed—and trust me, I’ll say a lot—as some kind of promise or shit like that.”

 

‹ Prev