Junior leaned forward and crossed his arms on the desk, staring ahead with the deadest set of shark eyes Holden had ever seen. “Your birthday is November 5, 2000. You were born at Saint Francis Hospital to Diane and Stan Murphy at 6:35 p.m., you weighed 6 pounds, 7 ounces, and you were twenty inches long. You grew up on Church Street and lived there until you were 12 years old when your parents divorced.” Junior went on to rattle off a half a dozen other humdrum details about Holden’s life, only the fact that these things were known to an absolute stranger was anything but humdrum. It gave Holden the worst feeling of dread he’d ever felt in his life.

  “The fuck have you been doing? Stalking me? You in love with me or something?” Holden knew he should keep his smart mouth shut, but his fight or flight impulse could not be denied.

  “We also know that you moved into the Waterview condos and that you are employed by Crow Bar as a bouncer, though clearly, you don’t need the money.”

  Holden gaped at Junior. “Today. I moved there today. What the fuck, dude?”

  “Which is why,” Junior continued, ignoring Holden’s outrage, “we want you to make sure Aaron Castillo wins the fight next week.”

  Holden had sat and forced himself to take several deep breaths in before responding to make sure he heard what he thought he was hearing. “You want me to throw the fight…why? Who even are you guys?”

  Junior shrugged and plonked down the nutcracker. “Think of us as Miami businessmen with local interests. We’re here on a business trip. To oversee a smooth transition and evaluate our assets. That’s you.” He pointed at Holden and winked ominously. “You are set to be one of our best assets. And if you do what you’re told and watch that smart mouth of yours, you’re gonna make us a ton of money. You might just end up at the top with a nice reward.”

  Holden spat out, “I don’t believe you.” He had seen the damage the Girardi family had done to his friends Levi and Billy. He wasn’t going to stand by and let some newcomers from Miami swoop in and ruin boxing too.

  “These are good people. This is a good league. They’ve taken care of us, and now you wanna drag it through the cesspool. I don’t want a part of it.”

  Junior turned his dead-eyed gaze to Shovel-Face Number One and casually nodded. “Jorge, give him a taste.”

  Jorge reached inside his jacket. Holden braced himself for the impact, but it never came. The hand-pulled out an envelope and handed it to Holden with a glare that could peel paint. Feeling as if he’d just eluded death, Holden tried to calm the churching in his stomach as he opened the envelope. In it was a stack of crisp one-hundred-dollar bills. Too nervous to count it out, Holden guessed there had to be at least three thousand bucks in the stack. Three thousand dollars that he did not need, thanks to Katie.

  “This is just a fraction of what you’ll earn — weekly — if you play along.”

  Holden shook his head. “Weekly? Nobody schedules a fight once a week. That’s asking for a concussion. Or worse.”

  When Junior had smiled, it made the dead-eyed expression go from unsettling to chilling. He looked like a serial killer.

  “That part ain’t my business. Your new trainer will make sure you’re ready to fight each and every Friday night. You’ll report to your new gym bright and early on Monday, and Coach Hammer will take care of you.”

  “New gym!” Holden had shouted in outrage, which prompted the two heavies to close in on him. Junior cut his eyes to the other one and nodded. The one opposite Jorge handed him a business card with an address way on the north side of the city.

  “There ain’t no boxing gym in Shoreline, fellas,” Holden said with a wise-ass smirk, waving the business card between two fingers.

  Junior sat forward, and the old metal desk chair creaked under the shifting weight. “I’ve got a newsflash for you, kid. The league was already under Girardi’s control. And he was doing a piss poor job of it. Of all of the family’s enterprises, this was the least profitable. So now, we’re here to make it better.”

  Holden laughed. “If you think I’m your lapdog, you are mistaken.”

  Junior picked up another pecan and wedged it in between the silver prongs of the nutcracker. “Oh. I think you will.” With one unsettlingly loud crack that reminded Holden of bones breaking, the pecan shells fell, scattering across the desk.

  “Think it over, kid.”

  And he had thought it over. And over and over, all the way back to a condo in which he didn’t belong, driving up the street in a car that was not his own.

  What the fuck is my life now? Holden thought as he lay staring at the ceiling.

  He’d spent the better part of the evening familiarizing himself with the condo: figuring out all the technology and remotes and locating proper food and cookware. He whipped up a half-decent dinner, saving plenty for Katie in case she showed up hungry.

  Technically, he didn’t need the money now. He could just quit boxing altogether and disappear from the league. But he loved boxing and would do it whether or not money was involved.

  Holden doubted any of his friends or Fr. O’Brien would have any wise words about the matter. Levi was so spooked by any mob threats that he would probably personally escort Holden to start a new life in a new town, under a new name.

  He felt truly out of his depth.

  If he had any balls whatsoever, he would do his level best at the fight next week against Castillo. But if he won, he might not have any balls to speak of, period.

  He winced as he recalled how the dead-eyed Junior had cracked that pecan all over Joey’s desk.

  He grabbed his phone and called Levi, asking if he could cover his shift that night.

  “Sure, pal. You sound weird, though. Everything okay?”

  He hated lying to his friend, but he needed time to think. There was no way he’d be able to think, nor would he be functioning at a hundred percent, if he worked his shift at Crow Bar that night. Also, he wanted to be there when Katie showed up.

  “I’m good. I’m fine. I gotta keep an eye on this kitten. She’s really sick.”

  To Holden’s relief, Levi seemed satisfied with that excuse.

  If Katie were there, she would know what to do about that kind of threat. She had clanging brass balls the size of the clock tower clappers. She wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything. But he needed to take care of his own problems. Not involve her or run to her for help just because she might have enough money and influence to make the problem go away.

  Just as he was thinking about Katie, her voice cut through the dark.

  “Holden?”

  She startled him so badly, he fell right off the edge of the bed, disgruntled cats skittering in all directions.

  “Why are you sleeping in here?”

  When he’d recovered himself, and his soul returned to his body, he huffed out, “Katie.”

  “Are you okay?”

  He had her underneath him within seconds, pinning her wrists to the mattress with her arms above her head.

  “No. I am most definitely not okay. But I’m better now that you’re here. I need you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Holden

  “Sorry I startled you.” The movements of her body under him spiked his arousal, and he ground against her.

  “It’s not just you.”

  “Did something happen?” she asked.

  He punctuated each part of his answer by pressing hungry kisses to her mouth, her neck, her chest as he spoke. “Can’t tell you. Not yet, anyway. Until I figure out what to do. Right now, I need you. I missed you.”

  A sigh escaped her. “God, me too. Weird night.”

  “You wanna talk about it?”

  “Not really anything to talk about. A strange meeting has me on edge, and Mike is twitchy about it. Just kiss me already and make me forget.”

  Holden kissed her hard, possessing her mouth completely until she whimpered needfully into his mouth.

  At that moment, no room existed for any thoughts of anyone or anything else. The world had come down on both their shoulders, but Holden was going to do his best to make it better, if just for a moment.

  He let go of her wrists; he needed to touch all of her in those satin pajamas she was wearing before he made all the layers disappear that separated them.

  “No. I mean, wait,” she whispered.

  “What is it, Cupcake?” He liked the way she nuzzled him whenever he called her that.

  “Don’t let me go. Pin me down.”

  Holden eased back off of her and studied the lines of her face in the dark room. “Are you sure?”

  “Holden, do I have to tell you how many weighted blankets it takes for me to calm my anxiety enough to sleep at night? I want you to hold me down, put all your weight on me, and make me fucking scream. Can you do that?”

  He locked his hand back around her wrists and kissed her lips tenderly, running one hand up and down the length of her side. “Absolutely. I just don’t know if I have enough hands.”

  He felt Katie’s tongue travel up the cords of his neck, ending the journey with a nip to the jawline. “I have just the thing. Be right back.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Katie

  After grabbing a scarf from her room, she met Holden in the hallway.

  “Just curious. Did you not like your room? I can change it, just say the word,” she asked.

  He looked confused and gestured with a jerk of his head toward the guest room where she’d found him.

  “That? It’s fine.”

  Oh. He hadn’t actually seen his room. He must have been deep in thought, too. She hadn’t tried to keep quiet when she’d entered the condo a few minutes earlier, slipping into the main bedroom with her overnight bag to change. She hadn’t expected to find him there, thinking he’d be working at Crow Bar that night. She’d seen the Camaro in the parking garage but assumed he’d walked to work since the bar was just a couple of blocks away.

  “I’m so sorry. I should have told you there’s another room.”

  Katie weaved her fingers through his and led him across the great room, past the piano, and beyond the TV area. Holding his hand, walking around the dark condo, flooded her with good feelings.

  But Holden stopped short and pulled her back to him.

  “What’s up?”

  He drew her in close, draped the scarf around her neck, and said, “Dance with me, Katie.”

  She smiled, noticing the goosebumps when he spoke softly into her ear.

  “Ah,” she said. “I see you’ve discovered the sound system.”

  Holden chuckled and spun Katie across the room, instructing the virtual assistant device to play Elvis Presley.

  Allowing herself to be held close while the King crooned words like “Love Me Tender,” felt far more intimate than their overheated moment in the elevator. Deeper than the quickie at the Windmill Motel.

  The logical thing would have been to compartmentalize, to separate reality from that song about love. Maybe they were just dancing. Perhaps that was part of foreplay. But the way he held her hand while they danced and hummed along to the tune, he was making it so easy to fall for him.

  “Oh. In case you’re hungry, I made chicken and mashed potatoes. I didn’t know if or when you’d be here, but there’s plenty leftover.”

  Her heart nearly broke at having to tell him she wasn’t hungry because she’d picked up something quick on the way over here. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you could cook, and I didn’t text. I told you, I don’t know how to be someone’s regular girlfriend. But I’ll try.”

  Holden chuckled and squeezed her tighter, reassuring her that their arrangement was anything but regular.

  When the song ended, he lifted one hand and twirled her around, then pulled her back in for a kiss so passionate that she knew her heart would break if he ever stopped.

  Mentally, Katie took stock of all the ways in which he’d already spoiled her for any other future partner: the dancing, the kissing, the cooking, the heat between them like a blast furnace. She would never be satisfied with anyone else after Holden.

  But wait. Why would anyone be in line after him? He was perfect for her. She could see this blossoming into a long term thing. A very long term thing.

  One moment at a time, Katie. The age difference didn’t make a difference on that night, but someday? It might. Just live in this moment.

  Instead of breaking the kiss, she walked backward and pulled him along by his shirt to guide him to the door of his actual bedroom. When they reached the bookcase, she pushed on it until it opened inward, creating a doorway.

  A surprised Holden finally had to stop kissing and groping her. “Wait, what’s happening?”

  Katie laughed. “This is your room,” she said, gesturing. “I’m so sorry. I should have told you.”

  Holden shouted. “This is some Bruce Wayne shit!”

  Inside, she touched a button on the wall that raised the lights. The dimly lit room was a king-sized bed and another wall of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the moonlight harbor.

  “I’m at a loss for words.”

  She shrugged. “So don’t use any words. Use this.”

  She slipped off the scarf from around her neck and held it out to him. It was so soft it slipped through his hands, and he almost dropped it.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what you did to me in the elevator,” she said, feathering her hand over the hard ridges of his stomach and upward over his chest, “I won’t be able to sleep tonight until you tie me down and wreck me.”

  Her words had consequences, one of which was him shoving his tongue down her throat in a wild kiss that had him growling into her mouth. She swore he could have broken her back with that kiss, and she would have died happy.

  Breathless, he pulled away. “We need, like, a safe word or something?”

  She nodded. “Right. How about Priscilla?”

  “Why Priscilla?”

  “Because of Elvis.”

  Holden blew out a shuddering breath. “I’m about to fall so fucking hard for you, Cupcake.”

  That felt so close to him uttering the “L” word, she needed to remind herself they’d only met four days ago.

  “Then you’d better pin me down and break this pussy in for you.”

  She found that when she talked like this, her sweet, adoring Holden transformed into a beast. And she loved it. In one swift movement, he had Katie on her back once again, her wrists snugly bound together with the cashmere scarf. He straddled her body on the bed while he worked on tying the other end of the scarf to the headboard. She bit her lip as she recalled the noises they had created with that cheap motel headboard. This one? A lot sturdier.

  “The thing about Dockside boys, we know how to tie knots,” Holden said.

  Katie didn’t understand why, but that comment almost had her exploding right then and there in her drawers.

  With one sure tug, Holden had her fastened to the headboard. He started work on her pajamas next, unbuttoning her top, letting the satin fabric fall away to reveal her bare breasts.

  “Ah, there they are. I’ve been missing you ladies.” Katie giggled as Holden buried his face between her breasts, using his tongue to coax out one nipple and then the other.

  The sensation of her bare skin rubbing against his cotton tee-shirt only served to make her hotter, wetter still.

  She arched her back to get closer, feel more of him. Her leg hooked around him to squeeze him tighter against her. He was too gentle.

  “Fuck me, Holden.”

  “Oh. You want this dick?” She heard the zipper, felt him pulling it out. And then, she felt the tip rubbing over the crotch of her pajama bottoms.

  She cursed, more wetness blooming between her legs. “I think you do. I think I can feel how wet you are, Cupcake.”

  She felt her clit throbbing for him; every inch of her ached for release, but also to be teased, kissed, touched, and satiated.

  Through gritted teeth, she begged, “Take them off.”

  “Hard to dominate such a bossy woman.” Holden chuckled and kissed a trail down to her stomach and against the front of her groin. She appreciated the extra pressure he was using. She lifted her hips to help him tug off her bottoms, and he growled when he saw she was bare underneath.

  “There she is. I’ve missed this,” he said, inhaling her scent and delivering deep, sensuous kisses across her skin, marking her thighs with small nips.

  She watched him come up on his knees briefly to remove his shirt and got a glimpse of his heavy dick, once more standing upright and ready to split her in two. He’d already sheathed it in a condom, and some deep, aching part of her squirmed at the thought of one day, maybe, taking it with no barrier between them. She wanted to feel all of his heat, all of his soft skin over his stiff shaft. Someday, maybe. Maybe when she was ready to risk everything for him. She couldn’t have a baby with someone she didn’t love—or someone she wasn’t sure she loved. If she were still able to have a baby at all.

  She watched as Holden stood and dropped his jeans and briefs, completely bare to her now except the condom covering his cock.

  Spying the nipple ring, she asked, “Will that hurt you if I play with it?”

  He shook his head. “Nuh-uh. Do it.” Holden returned to the bed, crawling up into position, so Katie was eye level with his chest. She could feel the warmth pouring off him, the closeness of him threatening to break her open and make her fall for him in every way possible.

  He hovered so close she feathered her lashes over his skin. Holden’s growled deep inside his chest. Her mouth caught his tempting little man nipple, licking the small metal bar with her tongue. When he responded with a hardening twitch of his dick against her tummy, she sucked the piercing into her mouth. Gently at first, gauging his reaction.

  Holden hissed through his teeth. “Thought I was supposed to be the one teasing you.”

  “Then you shouldn’t pierce your nipples, or have so many tattoos, or dress like you’re asking for it.”