Take a Chance on Me(29)

She bit her lip, her throat tight with embarrassment. What was wrong with her? She’d been shameless. “I’m sorry.” Her apology was automatic.

“No. Stop.” He let go of her shoulder and grasped her chin in his big hand. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

She nodded, wanting to die of mortification.

He gentled his hold. “Believe me, you’re perfect. Too perfect.”

Then why? She pressed her lips together.

He stroked over her bottom lip, still swollen and wet from his kiss. She wanted more. The lust, low in her belly, demanded it. But she wasn’t going to be appeased. Nope, she needed to rein it in. Stuff it back down.

Needing distance, she straightened, pulling from his grasp.

He dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so abrupt. You took me by surprise.”

“Sure,” she said, speaking past the lump in her throat. “I should go get the room.”

She grabbed the door handle, but before she could pull it open, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her back into the seat.

Why wouldn’t he let things be? She whipped around. “What?” Her tone was the snap of a whip in the quiet car as embarrassment turned to anger. “It’s time for me to go, Mitch.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw and his eyes flashed fire. “I stopped,” he said through gritted teeth, “because I didn’t think your inner good girl would appreciate being f*cked in a seedy motel parking lot in front of God and everyone.”

She froze at his blunt words. The confession should have satisfied her, but it didn’t. She wrenched her wrist free. “Do me a favor. Take care of your own demons. I can manage my inner good girl just fine!”

Not waiting for a response, she flung open the car door and jumped out.



What in the hell had happened?

Mitch stared after Maddie as she stomped across the sidewalk toward the lobby, her ponytail swaying in rhythm to the defiant swing of her hips. He had no idea what had set her redheaded temper flaring.

Didn’t she understand? For once in his sorry life, he was being a nice guy. He was protecting her.

It had taken a f*cking Herculean effort not rip off those too-big shorts, yank her on top of him, and impale her. And, Jesus, that mouth. Did she have any idea how hard it was to resist that needy, swollen, wet, intoxicating mouth? He’d never kissed a woman and questioned whether he could stop. Ever.

But in less than five minutes, Maddie had blown his control straight to hell. He’d had to stop, because if he hadn’t, he’d have taken her hot, eager little body with a ruthless, demanding lust and scared her to death. With his last remnants of sanity, he’d remembered she was practically innocent and pulled back. For her.

And now she was pissed about it? He shook his head. Women. Who understood them?

Sure, he appreciated her quest for independence, but he hadn’t meant it like that. He was only . . . He trailed off, watching her through the dirty window. He caught the movement of Maddie’s shadow as she talked to the lobby attendant. Her hand flew as she gestured, obviously responding to something he’d said.

Well, in retrospect, maybe he could have phrased it differently. But, hell, she had to cut him some slack—he hadn’t had an ounce of blood left in his brain.

Her ponytail bobbed as she planted her hands on her hips. Goddamn, he wanted her. After that kiss—that mind-blowing, cock-wrenching kiss—was he honestly going to give up and let her stomp off into the sunset?

No way. He was keeping her.

The unexpected thought sent ice through his veins. What exactly was he doing? Keeping her? For what? Nothing good could come from this situation. Maddie was a disaster waiting to happen, and he’d given up complicated women.

Gut instinct had once made him a shark of a lawyer, and even though it had been a while, it told him everything he needed to know: walk away. It had been twenty-four hours, not nearly enough time to do any permanent damage. In a couple of days, she’d be gone and things would return to normal. He’d forget about this momentary diversion and return to his numb, day-to-day life.

It was the smart move. The safe move.

He’d ignored his gut once and paid the price.

Maddie flew through the lobby door, her hands clenched into fists, her beautiful face scrunched in anger.

His chest squeezed.

She marched to the car, threw open the door, and plopped onto the seat.

Before he could speak, she banged her fists on the dashboard and let out a high-pitched scream, startling him.

“Jesus, Maddie, what the hell is wrong?”

“You want to know what’s wrong?” she yelled, pointing at the lobby door. “My stupid credit card has been reported stolen. They took it and now the jerk inside won’t give it back!”

Relief, strong and powerful, swept through him in a dizzying rush.

Screw safe.





Chapter Eight



“I’m warning you,” Mitch said to Gracie in a low, menacing tone. “Don’t even think about being helpful.” Maddie had pleaded a headache and excused herself to lie down the second they walked into his house, and he’d been acting like a lunatic ever since.

He’d left things to chance today and fate had dealt him the winning hand. He wasn’t going to let anything f*ck it up, and that included making sure his do-gooder neighbor didn’t offer Maddie any alternatives.