Taking What's His (Entangled Brazen)

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Taking What's His (Entangled Brazen) Page 6

by Diane Alberts


  “I’m taking you home,” Holt said, his voice leaving no room for arguments. “And that’s that.”

  “Yes, sir,” she muttered sarcastically.

  Holt flexed his jaw, but remained silent.

  “Perfect.” Steven clapped Holt on the back. “Always the man of the hour, ready to help a guy out.”

  “Not always,” he said under his breath.

  The smile on Steven’s face slipped for a second, but then it corrected itself. “Thanks, man. And, hey—” Steven glanced at Lydia, and then whispered something in Holt’s ear before pulling back. “Got that?”

  Holt flexed his jaw. “Yep. Loud and clear.”

  Without another word, Steven walked over to Cooper, Kayla, and the brunette. Lydia watched him go before turning to Holt. He still had his hand on her lower back. “You don’t have to—”

  “Oh, but I do.” He steered her toward the door. “I really fucking do, Lyd.”

  Her heart hammered away in her ears. “But—”

  “You’re coming with me, whether you like it or not. So stop fucking arguing and walk.”

  She wanted to dig her heels in. Refuse. But something told her he wouldn’t give in easily. He would make a scene, and her brother would find out about them, and all hell would break loose. So she followed his lead. “What did he say to you?”

  Holt steered her out the door. The second they cleared the building, he spun her and pressed her against the brick wall, out of sight of everyone inside, including her brother. “What. The. Fuck?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

  “Did you know it was me last night?” Holt’s voice was clipped. His glasses reflected the streetlights, but they did nothing to detract from the anger blazing in those eyes of his. “Did you know who I was?”

  “Not at first.” She licked her lips. “After you said your name, I figured it out, though.”

  “Son of a bitch. You…I…” His Adam’s apple worked as he stared down at her. “Damn it, Lydia.”

  She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” He fisted his hand in her hair. “Why did you let me fuck you like that, knowing you were my friend’s baby sister? Damn you.”

  Chapter Seven

  Holt glared down at the beautiful woman in his arms—the same one who had haunted his thoughts since she’d left his bed—unable to believe the twisted turn of events. In between his struggles to fix issues in the office and the raging headache he’d had all day long, he hadn’t had time to search for her.

  Truth be told, it wouldn’t have done him any good, anyway.

  Never in his life would he have guessed that Lydia was a Thomas—his best friend’s little sister. Of course he fucking hadn’t. Steven talked about his sister all the time, but he rarely used her full name. And even if he had, he’d never in a million years have put two and two together.

  He’d been too fascinated with her last night to be logical, damn it.

  And his body was being anything but logical now.

  Having her there, in his arms, was fucking with his head. Steven had no idea about the things they’d done last night, and even so he’d felt the need to remind Holt that a best friend’s little sister was off limits. As if he needed reminding. He’d already broken the rule. But did it count if you hadn’t known at the time she was your best friend’s little sister?

  Because, God help him, his body still didn’t give a damn whose family member she was. He tightened his fist in her hair, his other hand gripping her hip and holding her in place. Touching her only made him want her even more. Damn it.

  “Answer me,” he demanded, feeling even more like a fool than before, which was saying a lot. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

  “Because I panicked. And after I woke up, I realized if you found out who I was after we…you know, it would be awkward for everyone. I mean, you obviously aren’t happy with who I am, so why put either one of us through that?” She bit down on her lower lip. “So I left, hoping to save everyone from the whole mess.”

  The whole mess.

  Did that mean she thought he was a mess?

  If so, she was right. Most nights, he didn’t sleep. Most nights, he drank himself into oblivion after fucking a woman and then sending her on her way with a swat on the ass. Most nights, he hated himself. But last night had been different.

  He hadn’t sent her away. And he’d slept. Actually fucking slept.

  Around her, he was a little bit less of a mess, but he couldn’t have her. All those thoughts he’d had earlier, of hunting her down and banging her out of his system, should be gone now. The second Steven had introduced her to him she’d become off-limits.

  Just as she should have been all along. He wasn’t good enough for a girl like her, and he never would be. Steven knew it, and so did he.

  “You’re…” He cut himself off, trying to think what he wanted to say. She waited patiently. “I-I can’t believe this.”

  “It doesn’t have to change anything.” She rested her hands on his chest, her touch burning through his shirt. “We had a beautiful night together. It was everything I’d hoped for, and more. Can’t we just be happy we had that, and move on? Ignore who I am, and who you are, and just remember the way we made each other feel? Who cares about names, or anything else, really? It was nothing.”

  He tensed. “You’re something.”

  She made a small little sound that he couldn’t read. “I was just a one-night stand. Stop trying to give it a different name, or make it into some huge thing it’s not. Just let it go.”

  “But I can’t, because you weren’t.” He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. “I wanted…I wanted…more from you. Another few nights, maybe. For the first time, ever, I wanted more. And now I can’t have it.”

  Blinking up at him, she tilted her head to the side. She looked so fucking cute when she did that. But when she bit down on her lip in the throes of passion?

  Hot as fucking hell.

  “I want more, too,” she admitted.

  Every instinct screamed to take her again. After all, she’d just given him the green light. But he didn’t fucking move. “We can’t.”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Because you’re off limits.” He swallowed hard. “And because you’re his little sister.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Steven probably doesn’t even care about that. Don’t get me wrong. He hates the men I date, so he’d hate you, too. But it wouldn’t be any different from anyone else I’ve ever brought home.”

  “Oh, but he does care.” He skimmed his thumb over her lower lip, soothing the spot where she’d bitten. “You want to know what he said to me earlier?”

  She nodded once, her breath coming fast.

  “He said to remember you were his little sister…” He dropped his touch from her, stepping back to safety, pushing his glasses into place. Or, relative safety, anyway. “…And to keep my hands and dirty as fuck thoughts to myself. So, I will.”

  “He didn’t.”

  Shoving his hands into his pockets, he rocked back on his heels. “Oh, but he did.”

  And I don’t blame him one little bit.

  “God.” She blushed. “That’s so…so…”

  “Barbaric?” he supplied. “Old fashioned?”

  “Yes!” She pointed at him. “Exactly.”

  “Yeah, well, it is what it is. And I have to respect his wishes.”

  “Why?” she asked. She slid her hands up his shoulders, slowly and torturously bringing his body to life. “If you want more, and I want more…why not take it?”

  He sucked in a deep breath and held it. This was the danger zone. She’d said she wanted more, and damn it, so did he. But not with her.

  Not with Steven there, watching them.

  But even knowing she was forbidden, that she didn’t need a fucked up man like him in her life, he wouldn’t have the strength to stay away if he knew she wanted him too.

  So he did t
he only thing he could think of to save her from himself. He called out his inner asshole, and had him step up to the plate, bat in hand. “You misunderstood me. I don’t want more from you at all. I came to my senses after you left.”

  She froze. “But you said you want—”

  “No, I said I wanted more.” Closing his hands over hers, he removed them from his shoulders. It was a hell of a lot harder than it should have been. Smirking, he shrugged as if he didn’t give a damn about her or anyone. It was a cloak he wore all too well, but tonight it felt wrong. “Past tense. I don’t need the trouble sleeping with you again would bring. No offense.”

  Annnnd home run.

  Her cheeks suffused with color, and she took a step back. “Oh. Right.”

  “Guys like me don’t look for more.”

  She nodded, turning away from him. Even so, he saw the confusion and pain she tried to hide. “I heard you the first time. I know.”

  There was so much he wanted to say. But he didn’t.

  Instead he tipped his head toward his truck. “My truck’s this way. Come on.”

  She bit her lower lip. “I’m not going with you.”

  He sighed. “Lydia—”

  “No. He thinks you’re giving me a ride, so your best friend duty is filled. Believe it or not, I know how to call a cab. I did it at your place this morning.”

  “We already went over this shit, Lydia.” He spread his hand over her lower back, guiding her toward his truck. He’d been trying to avoid touching her, because touching her made him want her even damn more. She dug her heels into the pavement, but he refused to stop propelling her forward. “Get. In. The. Truck.”

  “Fine.”

  Huffing, she followed him, her back tense under his fingers. Funny, he knew the perfect remedy for that. Too bad he couldn’t show her. They reached the passenger side door, and he opened it for her. He didn’t help her up with a boost on her ass like he had last night. He kept his hands to himself. “In you go.”

  She climbed in without a word, her silence louder than words could ever be. As he walked around the back of the truck, he dragged a hand through his hair. Then he slid into his seat and slammed the door shut, starting the engine and kicking it into reverse right away.

  After he merged onto the road, he tapped his thumbs on the wheel. “Are you still living on campus?”

  “No.” She crossed her arms and stared out the window. “I’m at Shadyside Apartments.”

  That was in a suspicious part of town. Not fit for a girl like her. “Steven lets you live there?”

  “Lets?” Her mouth pressed into a tight, angry line. “No one lets me do anything, thank you very much, least of all my brother.”

  He stopped at the red light and held his hands up. “Fuck, sorry. All I know is my nuts were threatened if I even thought about touching you, so I figured he might be a pain in the ass as far as your living conditions go, too.”

  “Well, he isn’t. And believe it or not, his opinions on who I date don’t matter to me, either. If he had it his way, I’d be a nun.”

  Hell, Holt would, too. Because if he couldn’t have her, damn it, neither should anyone else. Logical? Nope. But he didn’t give a flying fuck. “I think that the sisterly way of life is highly underrated by modern society. If you were my little sister, I’d—”

  She growled under her breath. “Don’t even think of going all older brother on me after last night. I will strip naked, right here, right now, to remind you who I am, and what we did. Don’t think I won’t.”

  “Oh, believe me. I know exactly who you are.” He flexed his fingers on the wheel, his throat tightening on him. The image of her stripping for him was enough to make him forget all about pushing her away. But he had to do it. “And what we did, too.”

  She glanced out the window, her shoulders stiff. “Whatever.”

  They fell silent until they reached her complex. As he parked in front of her building, he searched the shadows. Nothing moved. “I’ll walk you in safely.”

  “You don’t have to. I’ll be fine.”

  “For the love of—” He broke off, rubbing his throbbing temple. “Jesus, Lydia. Do you have to fight every damn thing I say so fucking hard? I’m just trying to be a good guy, which is nothing less than I should do after what we did. I’ve made enough mistakes already where you’re concerned.”

  She pressed her lips together and gripped the door handle. “Last night was nothing. People have one-night stands all the time. Especially you.”

  With that, she opened the door, hopped down, and stormed off for the entrance. A headache was building behind his forehead, and he knew D-Day grew closer. Soon, he’d be in bed, incapacitated and useless. “Son of a fucking bitch,” he mumbled under his breath, opening his own door and going after her. “Wait just a second.”

  “No,” she called over her shoulder. “Go home, Holt.”

  He hurried his steps and easily caught up with her right outside her door. Reaching out, he grabbed her elbow. “Who told you that I had lots of one night stands? Steven?”

  “You said it last night, several times. And even if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t need to.” She gestured toward him. “You’ve got the whole thing down to a science.”

  “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “You know exactly what it means,” she snapped, pulling free. “You bring girls home with you all the time, tell them how it’s one night only, and not to get attached. And I’m just another one of them, so stop making me into this horrible thing you did wrong in your life, and making me feel even worse than I already do.”

  “Lydia, I—”

  She held her hands up. “Look, I get it, okay? You regret touching me, and you don’t want to ever see me again. I was a mistake. A huge one. So move on, forget all about me, and go home. We don’t have to ever set eyes on one another again.”

  “Wait, I didn’t say that.” He shook his head, struggling to answer her. “It’s just…I…fuck.” Damn it, the words wouldn’t come.

  “Yeah, you did. I think you said it at least a million times, in a million different ways.” She opened the door and walked inside. “Goodbye, Holt. It’s been real. You’ll never have to see me again, or remember the night you stooped so low that you actually screwed a girl like me.”

  He should let her walk away. He should leave with empty hands and an even emptier heart. But he couldn’t. Not with her. Not now. He wasn’t supposed to want her, wasn’t supposed to go after her, but damn it, he did want her. He really fucking did.

  What was even worse than the fact that he should be resisting temptation—and wasn’t—was the fact that she wasn’t even giving him a chance to form a reply.

  And that pissed him off even more than his slow brain, or his inability to keep his hands to his fucking self. He followed her inside, his blood pumping. He didn’t bother with trying to put his thoughts into words. Not this time. Instead, he caught her, tossed her up against the wall, growled…and kissed her.

  And, God help her, she kissed him back.

  Chapter Eight

  Lydia collapsed against the hard wall, clinging to his even harder chest. She didn’t know what the heck was going on in his brain right now, but she knew one thing. All she’d been able to think about since last night had been kissing him. If he wanted to do it again, right here in her hallway, then so be it.

  She’d kiss him back.

  He pressed closer and ran his hands over her body, squeezing her breasts and rolling his thumbs over her nipples. She moaned into his mouth, needing more. Needing him. He broke the kiss off, resting his forehead on hers and letting out a shattered breath. “Jesus, Lyd. You have no idea how fucking hard it is for me not to take you right here. Right now.”

  She moaned. “Then do it. What’s stopping you?”

  “Nothing. Everything.” He nipped at the sensitive skin over her pulse, and then kissed away the sting. At the same time, he slipped his hand up her dress and cupped her core, pressing hi
s palm against her where she needed him most. “But I had a taste of that tight pussy of yours, and I want more. So much more.”

  She moaned again. She couldn’t help it. “So take it, damn it. Take me.”

  “Roommate?”

  “Out of town.” She undid his jacket. “Won’t be back till next week.”

  He kissed her again, shrugging out of it as he did so. The sooner they got naked, the better. By the time he had the door kicked closed behind them, she was on the last button of his white button up shirt. She slid it over his arms and it hit the floor. He lifted her against him, his mouth never leaving hers, and she wrapped her legs around his waist securely.

  He cupped her butt with his big hands and walked toward the bedroom, his tongue gliding over hers. Digging her heels into his upper back, she ran her hands over his chest. He was so hard and smooth. So irresistible. He paused in front of her door. “Yours?”

  She nodded and kissed him again. Growling, he opened the door and barged into her room. Within seconds, she was on the bed, and he was on top of her. His hand slipped up her inner thigh, teasing her with almost-there touches.

  Then the almost touching was gone, and he had a hand inside her thong. When he thrust a finger inside of her, she cried out and arched her back. “Yes.”

  “Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” He pulled back just enough to make her scared he might be pulling away completely, but then he thrust two fingers inside of her. “And so fucking mine.”

  She nodded frantically. “Yes, God, I need—”

  “I know what you need, Lyd.” He twisted his fingers, and she cried out. “You need me.”

  The pleasure was already building. Intense. Fierce. Inescapable. “Yes. Oh my God, yes.”

  Slamming his mouth down on hers again, he moved his fingers over her even faster. She was so close. One more twist of his fingers, and she’d be—

  An old-school ringtone sounded, and a phone vibrated against her leg. Holt froze, both on top of her and inside of her. And just like that, the reality of what they’d been about to do hit him. She could see it in his face. He swallowed hard, his fingers still deep inside of her. “Shit. I…we…”

 

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