Taking What's His (Shillings Agency 4)

She stepped aside, motioning out to the hallway. “Now get out before I—”

“I miss you, babe.”

He wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her into his arms. She barely had time to register what was happening before his mouth was on hers. Unlike last night, when Holt had done the same thing, her reaction was nonexistent—unless you counted repulsion. Slipping her hands in between them, she shoved him back, but he didn’t budge. Twisting, she managed to free her mouth from his. “Sam, stop it.”

“Why?” He backed her against the wall, not letting go. He crushed her between the wall and his chest, and instead of fearing him, she wanted to scratch his eyes out. “I saw that asshole leave your building just now. And then I figured out why we didn’t work. I wasn’t enough of a jerk for you. I didn’t press you for sex, or anything.”

She shoved at his shoulders again. “Neither did he, dumbass. I just gave it to him willingly.”

“Well, now you can give it to me, too,” he said angrily.

Her stomach turned. “Over my dead body.”

“So melodramatic.” He laughed cruelly. “Then again, you always were. I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before. But before I go, let me show you how a real man—”

One second he was there. The next, he was gone. She blinked and then tugged her shirt down. It had ridden up in her struggle. But who had—?

Holt slammed Sam against the door, his face red. Sam held his hands up, looking like the scared little boy he was. “Look, man, I wasn’t—”

“Yes, you were, man,” Holt growled, his grip on Sam’s throat flexing. “Give me one fucking reason not to kill you right here, right now.”

Sam paled even more. “Dude, I-I-I didn’t—”

“Not good enough.”

“You can’t kill me over a kiss,” Sam cried. “It was just a kiss!”

“Again, not enough.” Holt twisted his mouth. “I’ve killed for a hell of a lot less. Believe me, I won’t give a damn when I do it to you.”

Holy crap. He hauled his fist back, seeming fully intent on punching Sam in the face. He’d been a jerk, yes, but she wasn’t about to watch Holt beat the life out of him for it, thank you very much. “Holt.”

One word. One simple word.

But it seemed to stop him in his tracks.

“Lydia,” he replied, his fingers flexing.

“Don’t hit him.” She walked up, heart racing, and rested a hand on his back. “He’s not worth it. Trust me on this.”

His fingers flexed. “You’re right. He’s not. But you are.”

“Holt…” She wasn’t sure what to say to that. He said so many sweet things, but then he pushed her away every time she got too close. “Let him go.”

Holt stared at him, looking deadly and dangerous. “No.”

“Look, man, I’m sorry.” Sam licked his lips, not daring to so much as blink. “I’m sorry.”

“Say it to her, not me.”

Sam glanced at Lydia for all of two seconds before slamming his attention back to Holt. She didn’t blame him. Holt pissed off was a sight to behold. “Sorry, Lydia.”

Lydia crossed her arms. “Just go—”

“Now tell her it won’t happen again, and that you’ll never come near her.” Holt pressed on his throat and grinned. “Because if you do, I’ll kill you. I swear I won’t let her stop me next time.”

Sam nodded frantically. “I’ll stay away.”

“Good.” Holt shoved him one last time, then stepped back. “Now get the fuck out of here before I change my mind.”