Chapter 17
Noel
I’ve spent the last few hours trying to trace this motherfucker, and to say I’m frustrated is the understatement of the goddamn year.
Holly’s phone was riddled with spyware.
Her laptop? Compromised six ways from Sunday.
I left both in the hands of our lead tech analyst, Balor Cruz—a paranoid genius with zero social skills and an obsession with encrypted forensics.
If there’s a single digital breadcrumb left behind, he’ll find it.
But while he’s working on that, I’m pacing like a caged animal.
And my chest? It fucking aches.
Not in a figurative sense. It physically hurts. Hollow and tight, like something vital’s been scooped out and all that’s left is air and static.
Because she’s in danger.
Because I let her be in danger.
And because I can’t stop thinking about the way she looked this morning curled in my sheets, skin warm, lips swollen, hair tangled, whispering I’m yours like it was the only truth that mattered.
Holly.
My Tinsel.
She’s the embodiment of everything sexy and soft and sweet I never thought I’d be lucky enough to find.
Funny. Smart. Kind.
And so fucking beautiful it’s like a weapon designed to take me out from the inside.
She deserves everything good.
Gentle mornings. Bad coffee and warm socks. Laughter. Real safety.
Not me.
Not the guy who once killed things for a living.
Not the guy who doesn’t do forever because forever is a luxury men like me don’t get.
But the thing is?
I want her.
And I’m a simple man. Always have been.
If I don’t find something I like in the first fifteen seconds, I move on. Restaurants. Cars. Gear. Women.
But I found her.
And now? Now I can’t imagine my life without her in it.
I pause just outside the office she’s using—one of the private glass-walled ones along the south hall.
Through the window, I see her.
And everything in me still goes still.
Holly is bent slightly, reaching for her toes. Then she stretches up toward the ceiling, her soft sweater riding high enough to flash a perfect strip of pale stomach.
My jaw tightens.
Mine.
Her tits bounce with the motion, and her hips sway as she moves side to side—probably trying to work out the tension from sitting so long.
Kai and Ego are standing nearby, pretending not to stare but doing a piss-poor job of it.
I seethe.
Then I punch the moron on the left.
Hard.
“What the fuck, man?!” Ego groans, doubling slightly.
Kai barks a laugh. “Ouch. Damn, bro. He caught you checking out his girl.”
“She’s not— I wasn’t—fuck, ow.”
But he was. I saw it.
Doesn’t matter that I can’t blame them.
Doesn’t matter that Holly probably didn’t even notice them there.
What matters is that fire in my gut. That sharp, raw need to claim.
“Go do your fucking jobs,” I growl.
They scatter—wisely.
I step forward, slam the office door shut behind me, and twist the lock. Holly jumps, spinning to face me.
Silver eyes wide. Lips parted. She’s flushed, hair messy from where she’d tugged it up in a clip. Sweater askew.
A pencil is still tucked behind her ear like a weapon of mass distraction.
“Dammit, Tinsel. You trying to get someone killed?” I rasp, my voice lower than I mean it to be.
“What?” she blinks, clearly having no idea what just happened outside the glass.
I don’t answer.
I pull the shade down on the door, blocking out the rest of the world. Then I move fast, grabbing her and hauling her into my arms like I’ve been starving for the taste of her—which, fuck it, I have.
My mouth crashes into hers, greedy and hot.
She gasps, but her hands come up immediately, clutching at my chest, curling into my shirt as she kisses me back like she never stopped wanting me.
She submits to me without reservation—such a good fucking girl—and it is everything.
God, she feels so good.
So soft in my arms, her curves melting against my body as I deepen the kiss, one hand sliding into her hair while the other grips her lower back.
She sighs into my mouth. And I feel it.
Like something clicks back into place.
Like the ache in my chest makes sense now because this is what I needed.
Her.
This moment.
This heat.
This right here.
When I finally break the kiss, I rest my forehead against hers. Breathing hard.
“You okay?” I ask, my voice still rough.
She nods slowly, dazed. “Y-Yeah. I was just stretching. My back’s a little sore from sitting so long.”
My gaze drops to her mouth. Then her throat. Then back up again.
“I’ll take care of that tonight,” I promise darkly.
Her eyes widen. Her breath catches.
And I swear to God, the only thing keeping me from taking her right here and now is the fact that someone out there wants to hurt her.
That fucker is still out there.
Still watching.
Still a threat.
But not for long.
Not if I have anything to say about it.