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Taking What's His(20)

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.