Page 26 of Holden

My heartbeat slows, almost stops.

“Holden?”

He leans up against the doorframe and gives me a dark look. “You guessed correctly,” he says, and I can smell the scent of alcohol on his breath.

“How did you find me?”

It’s not like I’m in hiding—at least not as Chelsea Faber, but seeing him on my doorstep, looking somewhat disheveled but completely sexy—

Sure, there are dozens more pressing questions I could ask, but I’m suddenly aware of how thin the walls are in this building, and how…public…the campus can be. What if someone saw Holden come to my room? Would he want that? Do I?

I’ve been running from drama my whole life, and now, here it is.

Right. Fucking. Here.

“It wasn’t hard,” he says. “You filled out your address on the media release form.”

Right. Forgot about that. “You’ve been drinking.”

“I had a drink. Is that suddenly a crime?”

“What are you doing here, Holden?” My voice is curt, covering up my concern. Things didn’t end great between us, but he’s obviously in a strange mood, and I’m worried our conversation is causing him more pain than I realize.

His expression darkens, and my skin prickles a little with unease. Maybe it’s my paranoia getting the best of me, but my new concern is that he’s somehow figured out who I am, and is here—

“Collecting on my half of the agreement,” he says, his voice dangerously low. “You didn’t think I’d forgotten, did you?”

Yes. I blow out a breath, steadying my nerves. “It’s not my problem you walked out.”

My tone relays far more confidence than I feel, and Holden knows it. I’m ridiculously transparent.

A water droplet falls between my shoulder blades, reminding me that I’m standing at my door in a robe, soaking wet. Anyone could walk by the room and see me. Holden’s eyes narrow in on my plunging V-neck of cleavage. I can’t close the gap without drawing attention to it.

He takes a step forward.

I move back.

“I’m not coming in unless you invite me, Chelsea,” he says.

“Like a vampire?” I say, in a feeble attempt to lighten the mood.

Good try, but the analogy seems to fit, because Holden grins in a way that flashes his teeth, before gathering me in his arms and pulling me up against his body. I slam into his chest with enough force to gasp. Without looking, he kicks closed my door, spins me around, and pins me to the wall. His hands hold my wrists tight up over my head. I’m so flustered I begin to tremble.

He leans close, close enough for his mouth to graze the side of my neck. “I have been thinking about fucking you all day, Chelsea…” My breath catches. “…and I intend to take what is owed to me.”

My throat is raw. There’s no point in again reminding him that he walked out. His aura is dark, desperate, hungry. Something about that combination turns me on. My entire body vibrates with anticipation and fear.

No matter how frustrated Holden makes me feel sometimes, being with him, touched by him, eases the hurt. What kind of power does he have over me?

Holden’s mouth moves to the side of my jaw, and down the slope of my neck. His teeth nip at the skin, tiny pin pricks that feel like ants biting at my skin. My lips burn with the need to feel his mouth on mine, but Holden bypasses the rest of my face and buries his head into the folds of my cleavage. There’s not time for disappointment. He pushes the robe away from one breast with his forehead and clamps on to my nipple. Again, I cry out, this time louder. He pulls back and blows on my breast, icy cold against the warmth from his mouth. My nipple goes painfully hard. Holden flicks his tongue across it and then moves to the other breast.

My hips writhe against him, but I can’t move. My arms are immobilized by his hold, somehow strong while his mouth teases both nipples into full erection.

I feel his cock harden, thick against my thigh, even through his pants and the terry cloth robe between us. He wedges his knee between my legs and now my hips are immobilized too. I have no choice but to succumb to him.

Holden’s hand goes to my throat. His lips over mine. “Say you want this,” he says.

As if there is anywhere else I’d rather be. I nod, unable to speak, allowing my plaint body to vocalize my assent.