Page 82 of Protect Thy Enemy

Logic deserts me, vanishing under his gaze. The fury there burns, but it’s tangled with something deeper that reaches past the anger and burrows into my chest.

He doesn’t wait for an answer. He turns sharply, his hand gripping mine as he pulls me through the crowd, his pace deliberate. The heat of his touch is enough to short-circuit my brain, and I follow wordlessly, my pulse thrumming in my ears.

The night air is cool against my flushed skin when we step outside, but it does nothing to dampen the fire raging inside me. The car is parked a few steps away, and he doesn’t slow until we’re both standing beside it.

Holden yanks the passenger door open, his jaw tight as he avoids my gaze. The muscles in his forearm flex when his hand tightens on the edge of the door. “Get in.”

I do, the silence crackling like a live wire between us as he slams the door shut and rounds the front of the car.

When he slides into the driver’s seat, he doesn’t look at me, doesn’t speak. His hand grips the wheel, his knuckles white against the leather, and then he floors it.

The engine growls as the car surges forward, eating up the pavement beneath us. The interior is dark, the faint glow of passing streetlights casting fleeting shadows across his face.

He’s focused, his gaze locked on the road ahead, but the tension radiating off him is palpable. It coils in the small space between us, thick and heavy, and I feel it like a physical touch.

I want to say something, but I don’t trust myself. The words lodge in my throat, useless and unnecessary in the face of… whatever is brewing inside him and me.

The drive feels both endless and fleeting, every second stretching taut with unspoken words, stolen glances, and the weight of everything we’re too afraid to say.

When he finally pulls into the driveway, the car stops with a jolt. My hand moves to the door handle, but he beats me to it, stepping out and rounding the car before I can blink.

Holden opens my door, his movements quick. He doesn’t wait for me to step out; he’s already turning toward the house, expecting me to follow.

And I do.

The house is dark when we step inside, and the faint hum of the air conditioner is the only sound. Park and Tate are gone.

He doesn’t turn on the lights. Doesn’t say a word.

Holden strides into the living room, his movements fluid and controlled like a predator stalking its prey. Then he stops, standing in the center of the room, and pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion.

The sight of him steals the breath from my lungs. His chest is broad, muscles carved and lean, his skin kissed by faint scars that only make him look more dangerous.

My mouth goes dry.

He turns to face me, his blue eyes blazing in the darkness. “You’ve got about a minute, Arden.”

I blink, my pulse hammering in my ears as his words settle over me like a challenge.

“A minute to tell me to walk the fuck away,” he continues, his voice low, rough, dripping with restrained desire. “To say this isn’t what you want.”

I don’t move.

“This is your chance,” he says, taking a step closer, his gaze locked onto mine. “Because tonight, there’s no mission. No cover. No rules. Just you and me. Fake husband and wife. And I’m about to show you exactly what it feels like to bemine.”

He stops a breath away, the heat rolling off him making it impossible to think.

But I don’t tell him to walk away. Maybe this would do us both good. To get it out of our system.

The moment he realizes, something in him snaps.

Holden closes the distance in one swift movement, his hands gripping my waist as he yanks me off the floor. His mouth crashes against mine, fierce and demanding, his kiss stealing the last shreds of my sanity.

I gasp against his lips. My hands find their way to his shoulders, clutching at him as if I might fall apart otherwise.

His grip tightens, his fingers digging into my hips as he presses me against him, his body hard and unyielding. The kiss deepens, slow and consuming, like he’s determined to unravel me piece by piece.

The room spins, every thought drowned out by the feel of him, the taste of him, the way he consumes every inch of me with just a touch, a kiss.

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