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“You need to tell me everything you passed along. Everything, baby.”
She nods. “It’s all on a burner phone on the top floor. I hid it in one of those fancy vases in the alcoves.”
I breathe out a laugh. “Smart.”
And that should be it, but there’s one more thing I can’t help asking. One more thing eating away at my insides. “Why didn’t you come to me with this, Holly? Why didn’t you confess? I could’ve helped you weeks ago.”
Her gaze shutters, dropping away to the floor, and already I wish I hadn’t asked. “I wasn’t sure.”
“Whether I’d help you?” My words have turned harsh, but I can’t help it. I’m wound too tight, my insides knotted with fear, and this room is somehow cold and stuffy at the same time. And my knees ache against the concrete and that drain keeps drawing my eye and that duct tape’s cutting into her wrists and I hate this.
Hate all of it.
“We have a connection.” So why do I sound so angry about it? “I know you feel it too. You could have come to me anytime.”
“We barely spoke before yesterday!” Her chin’s up again, eyes flashing, and even as my insides lurch, it’s a relief to see her fighting back. Holly grips the arms of her chair, glaring at me as she yells: “You’re a mobster, Diego! I’d be the world’s biggest idiot to spill everything to you just because I have a crush!”
Well. Yeah. Okay, maybe.
“But I’d have kept you safe,” I insist.
“I know thatnow.” Holly rolls her eyes, glaring at the ceiling. “God. You are such a…”
I wait, our yelled words still bouncing off the concrete walls. Nothing.
“Such a…?”
The maid’s eyes narrow on me. “Such a doofus.”
My cheeks ache when I grin. “A doofus? Jesus, Holly. Hold something back.”
Cold seeps through the floor into my knees as I lean forward. I go eighty percent of the way, and I wait for her there. Not gonna kiss her by force while she’s tied to a goddamn chair, that’s for sure.
But my girl puffs out a little breath, and then she’s craning forward too, chair creaking. Her hair tickles my cheeks as she kisses me, soft and slow and sweet.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers against my mouth.
“Don’t be,” I tell her, and my words are gruff but my hands on her arms are gentle. My chest aches like a motherfucker, though. “Not like any of this is your fault.”
I kiss her again, stealing some of that sweetness. That warmth. Her lips part against mine with a sigh.
And we’re alone—for now. In this room that doesn’t lock, where every sound echoes off the walls, and it’s the worst possible timing but I can’t help kissing her again. And again. And again. I kiss her until heat crackles through my veins, my heart drumming against my ribs, and every part of the outside world is hazy.
“Your wrists—” I start to say, breaking away and breathing hard, but Holly shakes her head and strains against the chair to reach me again.
“Leave them.”
Her muffled moan when our mouths slant together—that’s my new favorite sound. Holly’s hands clench and flex, tied helplessly to the chair, but I know from last night that she’d be touching me everywhere right now if she could. Tugging on my hair and slipping those cool hands inside my shirt, mapping my chest with greedy little sounds. Petting my beard and grabbing my shoulders for balance.
But she can’t. She’s at my mercy.
“You know, there’s something about having you tied up, Holly. In other circumstances, I’ve gotta say…”
She laughs, shaking her head, but her cheeks flush a darker pink. Interesting.
I lean in, pressing the words against her fevered throat, and she shivers under my hot breath. “I think you like it too. Maybe you’ve even thought about this before. Shall we test my theory?”
Holly’s breath catches… and then she nods once, quick and sure.
