Taking What's His (Entangled Brazen) (9 page)

Not until now.

He collapsed against the seat, her mouth moving over him until he was sure he’d go insane from the pleasure. Her sweet tongue brushed against him, and the way she moved her fingers, touching in all the right places, would surely be his cause of death. He couldn’t think of a better fucking way to go. He arched his hips again, tugging on her hair. “I’m gonna come.”

She nodded and kept going. He hadn’t expected her to want to swallow…but he sure as hell wasn’t going to complain. He watched her mouth move over him, clenched his jaw, and came explosively.

Words flew out of his mouth, and he dropped his head back against the seat. She pulled off of him slowly, her mouth leaving a trail of torture behind. He hissed and tightened his grip on her hair, pulling her up. “
Enough
.”

Glancing away, he took a deep breath. He didn’t want to see the look on her face, in case he’d lost his shit. From the corner of his eye, he watched her as she sat up, holding her hand over her mouth. He could feel her bright hazel eyes on him. She stayed silent, which was pretty damn damning, in his opinion. He’d fucked up. Again.

This was why he was better off alone, damn it.

“Lydia…” He took a deep breath and formed his thoughts as best as he could with his head throbbing like a bitch. And then he looked at her. She hadn’t moved. “Look, I’m sorry if I scared you. If you want me to take you home…”

She blinked. “Scared me? Why would you have scared me?”

“Well, I…uh…”

She rested her hand on his arm. “There’s nothing you’ve done, or could do, that would send me running. I was simply quiet because I was thinking how that was one of the hottest moments of my life, and I never want to forget a second of it.”

“You’re too good for—” He took a shaky breath and rubbed his temples. There was so much he wanted to say to that, but he couldn’t even finish a damn sentence. His mind had quit on him, and now he was going to make a fool out of himself. “Shit.”

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, turning away from her. He didn’t need to see her pity, or fear, or anything, really. He just wanted to crawl under the covers and hide from the whole world.

Just wanted to disappear, until he felt human again. “I have to…I…”

“Lie down?” she asked softly.

“Yes. That.”

Her door closed behind her, and for a second he thought she left him. He wouldn’t blame her if she did. But then his opened, and her hands were on him. “Come on. I’ll help you inside.”

Disgust at what he’d become hit him hard. This wasn’t him. He wasn’t the guy who needed help, damn it. And her doing this was both amazing and frustrating, all in one. He didn’t want to be this guy with her. He wanted to be the guy who blew her mind with amazing orgasms. The guy she missed when he was gone. The guy she needed…

Not the guy who needed
her
.

Chapter Eleven

Lydia watched him, forcing herself to stand completely still. He sat in the driver’s seat, an array of emotions crossing his features. She knew, deep down, that he hated feeling the way he was right now. That he was two seconds from snapping, and she didn’t want to be the one that pushed him too far. But he obviously needed help.

She didn’t know what was wrong with him, or why he’d shut her out like that after she’d gone down on him, but she knew one thing: He was in pain, and he needed help.
And I need to give it to him.

“
Go
.” He slammed his hand down on the wheel, and she jumped. “Go…home.”

“No.”

“Listen, little girl. You—” Gripping the wheel, he flexed his jaw, paling. After a few seconds, he swung on her, his blue eyes narrow and icy cold. “Get the hell out of here. I don’t want you—”

She growled under her breath. “Stop right there,” she snapped, lifting her chin.

“No. I don’t want you here.” He gripped the wheel even tighter. “Don’t want you… I’m done. Get the…message.”

Shaking her head, she crossed her arms. “You can’t scare me away by being a jerk. I grew up with Steven—you’re nothing compared to him. Get out of the truck so I can get you inside.
Now
.”

He stared at her, breathing heavily. “I don’t want you. Don’t you hear me? Get the hell out of here.”

“Nope.” She put her hands on her hips. “I understand you’re frustrated, and feeling like crap. But hear me and hear me well. I will not leave you until you’re better.”

“I’m never going to be—” He broke off, gritting his teeth. He was starting to look less pale, and more green. “—Better.”

“Then you’ll never be better. But I’m still not leaving.”

“You little—” He gripped the steering wheel tighter, and the fight seemed to leave him. He collapsed against the seat. “—S…shit.”

She swallowed hard. It hurt to see him hurting, and it hurt even more that he didn’t want her there. “I just want to help you. Can’t you see that?”

He nodded once, not replying. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, he let go of the wheel. “I need to get inside,” he rasped.

“Okay.” She caught his hand. “Let’s go.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he entwined his fingers with hers and turned back to her. Pain and regret and something else she couldn’t name were written all over his face, and almost made her fall over. He swallowed hard. “Lydia…”

“Shh. Come on.”

He climbed out of the truck silently, his fingers still entangled with hers. Reaching into the truck, she grabbed his keys out of the ignition and walked up to his door with him. His silence was both a relief and a worry. Would he go off on her again? Say rude things to try and scare her away? She didn’t know, but it didn’t matter.

She wouldn’t leave until he was okay.

With trembling hands, she unlocked the door. As soon as she shut it behind her, she turned to him. “What do you need?”

“Pills.” He collapsed against the door, his face pale. “Kitchen.”

She hurried into the kitchen, her heart pounding. Next to the sink, beside an empty bottle of whiskey, was an orange container filled with prescription medication for migraine headaches, according to the label. So…he got migraines. That’s what this was. After she got the meds in him, she needed to get him in a dark, quiet room, and get a cold compress on his head.

At least she knew what to do now.

Twisting the lid, she shook a capsule out onto her hand. After opening a few cabinets, she found the one that held glasses. By the time she came back into the foyer, he’d shrugged off his coat and kicked off his shoes. When he heard her coming, he dropped his head against the door again.

“Here.” She held out the water, and he took it with a trembling hand. Next, she gave him the pill. “After you take these, we’ll get you in bed.”

He nodded once, tossed the pill in his mouth, and downed all the water.

As soon as he finished, she grabbed the glass out of his hand, set it down, and clutched his hand. “Can you make it up the stairs?”

He grit his teeth so hard she could hear them scraping against each other. “
Yes
. I’m not—a—” He didn’t finish that thought. “
Fuck
.”

Pressing her mouth into a thin line, she fell silent, knowing she was only annoying him. Plus, if he had a headache, then talking—hers and his—would hurt. Slowly, they made their way up the stairs. As soon as they entered his room, he let go of her and stumbled toward his bed. She watched him go, her heart in her throat with every step he took.

When he stumbled, she lurched forward, ready to catch him. “Oh my—”

He caught himself and threw a scowl over his shoulder at her. “I’m not a child.”

“I know. I never said you were.”

When he reached the bed, he sat down and then fell back, flinging an arm over his face. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He didn’t say anything.

Neither did she.

After what had to have been like twenty minutes of silence and awkward fidgeting in the corner on her part, she walked over to him. By now, the meds should have hit. “Is there anything else I can do? Would you like a cold compress?”

His hand balled into a fist. After a few moments, he said, “Unless you can make the last fifteen minutes go away…no. There’s nothing else.”

Okay, then
. The meds had definitely kicked in. Before they had, he’d been unable to form a whole word, let alone an entire sentence. And when he’d come, he’d blurted out a bunch of words in the wrong order. She hadn’t thought anything of it, but now…

What exactly had happened to him overseas?

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Holt.” Sitting down on the side of the bed, she brushed his hair off of his forehead. He flinched, but otherwise didn’t react to her touch. “Lots of people get migraines.”

“You can go home now.” He still didn’t move. “I’ll pay for your cab. If you could reach in my coat pocket and get my wallet out, there should be cash.”

Her heart twisted. “Holt…”

“Lydia.”

Reaching out, she squeezed his hand. “Look at me.”

He finally opened his eyes. The blue was cold and hard. He wanted her to leave, and she would. But he had to know that she didn’t care that he got headaches, or couldn’t form his words perfectly one hundred percent of the time. None of that mattered to her.

All that she cared about was him, and if he was okay.

“I know right now, you don’t like me very much. I know you wanted to suffer alone, where no one could see you. I get it. And I know you want me to leave, so I will, even though I’d rather stay with you, in case you need anything else tonight. But nothing that happened here tonight has changed a thing.” She squeezed his hand. “
Nothing
.”

He rolled his wrist and flipped his hand palm up, closing his fingers around hers. “I’m…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been mean. It was…” He paused and licked his lips. “Uncalled for.”

She smiled. “It’s okay. I’m a bitch when I get PMS, so I’ll make it up to you in a week or two.”

A little laugh escaped him, but he cut it off quickly. “Ow.”

“Sorry.” She rested a hand on his cheek. “I’ll go now.”

When he didn’t say anything else, she walked for the door. She was halfway through it when he said, “Lydia?”

She froze, a hand on the doorjamb. “Yeah?”

“No one else knows I get these. No one…” He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

Blinking back tears, she didn’t face him. “You’re welcome. And don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

She walked out of the room, down the stairs, and into the night. She didn’t take money from him, because she didn’t need to. Her brother lived two streets over, so she’d just walk there. Truth was, she kind of needed the time alone to clear her head. Holt obviously had a heck of a lot going on, and no one else knew about it.

Where was his support person? His parents? Siblings?
Anyone
?

Even more importantly, where the hell was Steven, his best bud?

By the time she made it to his door, she was furious. She marched up the stone walkway, lifted her fist, and pounded on the door. When he didn’t answer, she did it again. A few minutes later, she heard a scuffling sound, and then a muffled curse.

The door swung open, and Steven stood there wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, his ink, and a scowl. He had a Glock in his hand, and his hair stuck up in different places. Once he saw who stood there, he dropped his hand to his side and closed the door enough that he could step behind it. “Jesus, Lyd. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. But you know what? You’re a—” She broke off, realizing at the last second that she couldn’t yell at him. She’d promised not to tell anyone about Holt’s pain, and she wouldn’t. “I mean, I was at a friend’s house, and I had to leave. Can I sleep here?”

He nodded. “Yes, of course. But are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

She shook her head and slipped her coat off. She’d never even taken it off at Holt’s. Everything had happened so fast. “No, I’m fine. I just need to sleep.”

“Okay…” He set the gun down and wrapped her in his arms. “Lyd, are you sure you’re okay? Where were you?”

“At a friend’s house,” she said, resting her cheek on his chest. “But don’t ask who. It doesn’t matter.”

He tensed. “Actually—”

“
Steven
.”

He sighed. “Fine. But I’ll be asking more questions tomorrow morning.”

“Ask what you want, but I’m not talking.” She stepped back. “The usual room?”

“Yeah.” He ran his hands through his hair. “You might not want to look in my room as you pass. I left the door open…and, uh…”

She froze halfway up the stairs, because that meant he had a girl in his room, just days after splitting with his girlfriend of a year. “Seriously? Already? Who is she this time?”

He crossed his arms. “Whose house were you at tonight?”

“Touché.” She headed up the stairs without answering…which was exactly what he’d intended, of course. “Good night.”

“Oh, and sis?”

She stopped at the top of the stairs and glanced at him. “Yeah?”

“Next time, you might want to make sure your skirt isn’t tucked into your underwear before leaving a guy’s house in a hurry.”

Her heart skipped a beat and she hurried to fix it. “Oh my God. No—” But when she touched her skirt, it was smooth and
not
stuck in her underwear. He scowled up at her, and she scowled right back at him. “
Steven
.”

“Just as I thought. Not a friend’s house after all.”

“It’s none of your business what I do with my free time,” she hissed, her cheeks hot. She’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book.

“Yeah, we’re
definitely
going to be talking about this guy tomorrow.” He raised a brow. “But hey, sleep well.”

Without another word, she trudged into the guest room and shut the door. As soon as she was alone, she pressed a hand to her chest, reliving every moment…both good and bad…from tonight. About Holt. He’d been so playful at first.

So free.

And then,
bam
, the headache from hell had attacked him, and he’d been a different man. And everything from that point on had been awful. He’d even said some awful things, in his pain—not that she held that against him. She might not know much about Holt and his circumstances, but she knew one thing. He was alone, and he needed help. More than likely, the migraines and difficulty to form words came from the brain injury that Steven had told her about, and he was miserable because of it. She had a feeling he’d been accustomed to being perfect, and being anything less just made him hate himself. But he didn’t need to be perfect to be loved.

No one did.

If she wasn’t careful,
she’d
be the one to love him, and he would push her away. He might only be looking for a “for now” arrangement between them, but her feelings for him were growing too deep, too strong, too soon. If she wasn’t careful…

He just might break her heart.

But that wouldn’t stop her from giving herself to him anyway.