Chapter 36: Held..

James

Kai didn’t even get the door halfway closed before his arms were around her.

She gasped, almost knocked over her coffee, and he caught it with one hand—while the other pressed firmly into the small of her back, pulling her flush against him. Her breath hitched as his mouth claimed hers, not gentle, not polite—possessive. Demanding. Four days without her had been hell.

She tasted like coffee, exhaustion, and something he was beginning to crave more than he liked to admit—home.

By the time she remembered to breathe, he was already walking her backwards until her spine hit the wall. His mouth didn’t leave hers, his fingers threading through the hair at the nape of her neck as he kissed her deeper, rougher, slower—until she melted, her knees starting to buckle.

James pulled back just far enough to speak, his lips brushing hers, voice low and lethal.

“You promised.”

Kai blinked, still dazed. “What?”

“You promised you’d take it easy this week,” he growled, fingers tightening just slightly in her hair. “You said you would rest. Let your team handle things. And instead—”

He punctuated the next few words as he spoke, his free hand smacking her ass once, hard, through her leggings, sharp enough to make her jump.

“—you pushed yourself too hard. Again.”

Her mouth fell open in protest, but the only sound that came out was a sharp inhale.

James smirked, pressing the weight of his body into hers. “I warned you, baby girl. I warned you what would happen if you kept breaking your word.”

“James—” she breathed, flustered. Her hands gripped his forearms, her body caught somewhere between defiance and desire.

He leaned in, brushing his nose against her cheek before whispering in her ear, “You’re not staying here today. You’re not working. Your team’s covered everything. I booked us a place on the coast. Two hours from here. Private house, ocean views.”

She made a soft sound—half-protest, half-whimper.

James just kept going. “Sara helped me pack a bag for you this morning. Your weekend is already planned. You can fight me all you want on the drive there, but it won’t change the outcome.”

He pulled back just enough to look her in the eye, holding her gaze like a vice.

“You’re coming with me. Now. And I swear to God, Kai…” His thumb traced her jaw, slow and reverent, even as his tone dipped to something far more dangerous. “If you keep pushing your limits, I will put you over my knee next time. No leggings. No mercy.”

Kai’s breath stuttered, her pupils blown wide. But she didn’t pull away.

And James? He was already imagining the exact view of her bare ass while Kai nodded enthusiastically before disentagling herself from him to gather her bag and they left. Kai grumbled the entire walk to the car.

She protested when he took her bag. Protested when he opened the passenger door for her. Protested when he told her to buckle up and behave.

But she didn’t stop him.

James knew the difference between her fire and her boundaries. Her mouth said no—her body always betrayed how badly she wanted to be told yes… to being taken care of.

“You didn’t tell Marty,” she said suddenly, halfway down the freeway. “I have training tomorrow morning.”

James didn’t even glance over. “I told Marty yesterday. You’re excused.”

Her mouth snapped shut. He watched the war play out in her peripheral. She wasn’t used to being anticipated. Handled. And definitely not outmaneuvered.

He reached across the console, tugging her gently until her head rested against his shoulder. Her spine stiffened—just for a second.

And then his fingers slid into her hair.

Soft, rhythmic. Gentle strokes through the strands, combing slowly with his fingertips, right behind her ear and down to the nape of her neck. Over and over.

The effect was immediate.

Her body melted.

By the time they reached the coast, her legs were curled up in the seat and her cheek was pressed to his chest. She’d drifted off halfway through the second highway. Only stirred when they pulled into a private gravel drive that curved toward a modern, two-story beach house with ocean views on all sides.

“You brought me to a Bond villain lair,” she mumbled, squinting up at the sleek architecture.

James smirked, palming her hip. “You're welcome.”

The interior was all clean lines and open space. White walls, hardwood floors, floor-to-ceiling windows that let the ocean breeze in like it was part of the decor. A spiral staircase curved up one side to the master suite. The scent of rosemary and grilled lemon chicken drifted from the open kitchen, where their personal chef gave a respectful nod before returning to his prep.

“Lunch will be ready in twenty minutes,” the chef said. “Dinner’s scheduled for seven, unless you’d like to push it.”

James looked at Kai.

She blinked at him.

He looked back at the chef. “Seven’s fine.”

Later that evening…

The sunset blazed molten gold across the water.

Dinner had been a blur—wine, slow-roasted lamb, perfectly seasoned vegetables—and now Kai had vanished, barefoot, leaving a trail in the sand as she walked alone toward the shoreline.

James watched her from the wraparound deck, the call still buzzing in his ear.

“Mr. Pratt?” The voice on the other end snapped him back. “We’ve moved the client dinner to next Thursday. And the revised contract came through an hour ago.”

“Good,” he said shortly, gaze still locked on Kai’s silhouette, half-lit by the dying sun. “Send it to my legal team.”

“Understood.”

He ended the call without saying goodbye.

Because he’d already forgotten the rest of the world existed as he watched the beauty sitting on the edge of the waves for a moment before heading down the beach to her, her toes being gently lapped at by the water, the last light of the day reflecting off the water and making her appear as those a halo surrounded her.

Kai POV

The wind danced around her legs as she sat at the edge of the surf, letting the fine grains of sand slide through her fingers like time she couldn’t hold onto. Her eyes were locked on the waves as they pushed forward, receded, returned.

She was so damn tired. Not just physically—though her body ached with the quiet consequences of pushing too far, too fast—but in that deep, internal way she didn’t know how to name.

The ocean murmured in her bones. Soft. Constant. Honest.

And for once, no one needed anything from her. No phones. No emails. No pretending.

Just the waves, and James.

James.

She should’ve told him everything.

Not just that she’d overdone it again—he’d figured that out without even seeing her. But about the compliance delays. About how D.A.R.E. had discovered the supply chain glitch and that it might push mass production back by weeks. About the building repairs. About how the insurance company had confirmed the fire had been arson.

She hadn't told him any of that.

And she didn’t even know why.