Take A Chance On Me (18 page)

The orgasm went on and on until she finally went limp, her muscles slack.

His fingers slid from her body, and he pressed one last kiss to her mound before moving up her body. Beside her, he trailed a path over her belly, and she jumped, her oversensitive skin ticklish. He brushed his mouth over hers. He smelled and tasted of her. She thought she should be mortified, but instead she lay there, too boneless and satisfied to kick up a fuss.

“You forgot to tap me and tell me the time was up,” he said, his voice the epitome of smug, arrogant maleness.

“Don’t brag,” she murmured, eyes still closed.

He chuckled, cupping her breast and rubbing his thumb over the peak. “You only came once. It’s not much to brag about.”

She opened one eye. “Only once?”

“If I had more time, I could have done better.”

The other lid popped open. “You did fine.” Understatement of the century.

He rolled her nipple, leaning down to kiss her neck. Her pulse stirred to life, even though she’d been sure she’d never move again. “Wake up, Maddie. I’m not nearly done with you yet.”

He shifted, and lying on his back, he reached into the nightstand to pull out a handful of condoms. He tossed them onto the table.

Her eyes widened. “Ambitious.”

He chuckled. “I’ve been hard for three days straight. It’s going to take more than once.”

“I’m not sure I have the energy.”

With a smile, he unzipped his jeans, shucking them off along with his underwear, his eyes never leaving hers. “You do like to challenge me, don’t you, Princess?”

Was that what she was doing? Was she throwing down the sexual gauntlet? She let her eyes roam, taking in his golden skin, those hard muscles, and the flat of his abdomen before resting on his erection.

He was steely hard, the head of his cock brushing his belly.

Her fingers twitched. She wanted to touch him. She reached out tentatively at first, stroking over his stomach. The muscles jumped under her touch. She trailed a path over the plains, marveling at the way he responded to her. Growing bolder, she circled his flat brown nipple, much like he’d done to her.

With a hiss, he gripped her hand. “Don’t do that right now.”

“Why?” She scooted closer, bent her head, and licked.

“Fuck!” He nearly crushed her fingers. He rolled her over onto her back, covering her.

“We’ll play later. Right now, I just need inside.”

She loved the way his body felt on hers: the hard length of his frame, his lean muscles, and the press of his thighs against hers.

He covered her mouth in a crushing, brutal, passion-soaked kiss. Stealing her breath along with any conscious thought, he sucked her underneath that drugging, all-consuming passion. He ate at her mouth, played her body like a violin until she moaned and twisted. Need coiled tightly in her belly.

His erection slid between her wet folds.

She forgot everything.

Her past. His. Her family. Steve. The wedding. Everything. For the first time since she was fifteen, she lost herself in the abandon of emotion. She wrapped her legs around his waist, wanting him so badly she’d kill for it.

“Please,” she whispered, not caring if it sounded like begging.

He groaned, shifting his weight, thrusting the head of his cock over her clit.

The sensation jolted like electricity down her spine.

He repeated the action, shaking his head. “Goddamn. You feel so fucking good.”

She arched to meet him, desire ratcheting up at a fevered pitch. “Please, please.”

She forgot to be embarrassed. Forgot about how she sounded or looked. Forgot about God’s watchful, disapproving eye as she clawed her nails down his back. She needed more.

He growled a low, primal sound from deep in his throat. He shifted his hips. He aligned the head of his cock at her opening, then thrust hard, filling her completely, only to freeze.

“Damn it.” He pulled out, and she tried to keep him within her, but he was too strong. “Princess, give me a second. I forgot the condom.”

Her lids were heavy; it was an effort to open her eyes. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a foil packet, rolling to a kneeling position between her legs. His lids were heavy, and his cheekbones looked carved from granite.

He was so beautiful: a work of art she wanted to capture on paper. The thought came from out of nowhere, surprising her, but before she could latch on to it, Mitch tore the package open with his teeth, then handed the condom to her.

“Put it on.”

His voice was a steely command, and she didn’t even think to refuse.

With trembling fingers, she took the latex ring. She sat up and positioned it over the head of his erection. Watching his face, she rolled it down his shaft inch by slow inch, reveling in the stark hunger etched over his strong features.

He hissed out a breath. Flipping her onto her back, he pulled her splayed legs over his thighs and thrust into her.

She was filled by and stretched tightly around him, and he didn’t move, letting her adjust to his length and girth. When her muscles loosened, he shifted, filling her impossibly further. She arched, stars crowding her vision as he ground his hips in a slow, mind-altering circle.

Then he started to move, each thrust setting her nerves on fire.

He didn’t make love to her. It was no gentle wooing. No, it was a claiming. He took her. Hot. Hard. Primal. Pumping into her with brutal thrusts.

“So.” He slammed into her. “Fucking.” With another drive home, his hips swiveled so the base of his cock hit her clit on the up stroke. “Good.”

She cried out. Relentless, burning desire threatened to incinerate her.

“Tight.” His voice low, he pushed her back onto the mattress. “Wet.”

“Harder,” she pleaded, the blinding need for release engulfing her.

He rose onto his hands and rocked into her, brutally, beautifully hard.

Over and over.

Faster.

Desire coiled deep in her belly.

Just a little more.

He reached between them and rubbed a finger over her clit.

She exploded, coming so hard that her vision dimmed to blackness as she nearly passed out from the fury of her climax.

Seconds later, he followed, pumping fast, with a loud roar that nearly shook the rafters.

Finally, the mad rush and thrust of their bodies stilled and the world slowed down. He rolled off of her, and they both stared up at the ceiling, gasping for breath.

“That was . . .” Mitch panted out, running a hand through his already impossibly messy hair.

Maddie giggled, another piece of that invisible weight she carried on her chest chipping away. “A total disaster.”

“Little brat.” He laughed. “You know what that means?”

“What?” She risked a glance at him, only to flush the second their eyes met.

“We’ll have to try again.”

“Until we get it right.”

He rolled over and kissed her. “I have a feeling it’s going to take quite some time before we’re even remotely proficient.”

Forever. The word slipped into her mind so smoothly, so effortlessly, she’d had to be thinking it on some visceral, unconscious level. The thought shook her. A slice of panic cut through her bone-deep relaxation.

She’d just met Mitch. She’d run out of her wedding precisely because she’d never been alone. Now, not even a week later, she imagined “forever”?

No. She refused to think about that. It was only her Catholic upbringing playing tricks on her mind, wanting her to be proper. That was all.

Mitch gripped her chin, pulling her away from her thoughts. “What is going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing,” she said, far too quickly.

He searched her face. “You know, Maddie, you can tell me anything.”

“Yes, I know,” she lied. She flashed a blinding smile.

His eyes narrowed doubtfully.

“I’m fine,” she said, fluttering her lashes at him. “Except for how awful the whole messy ordeal was.”

He rolled over, trapping her and pinning her under him. “I knew you liked it mean.”

Yes, this was what she needed. More sex. More Mitch. More blinding passion and explosive orgasms. She had no intention of confessing her unbidden thoughts of fairy tales. She’d stopped believing in happily ever after on that afternoon back when she was fifteen.

No amount of Catholic guilt was going to convince her otherwise.

Chapter Sixteen

Muscles Maddie hadn’t known existed ached as she padded down the back staircase to the kitchen below. Heat flooded her cheeks at the vivid memories of her night with Mitch.

The man was both inventive and deviant.

She stepped into the bright kitchen, the sun blinding after the dark hours in Mitch’s bedroom. She held her hand up to shield her face. “Ugh! Too bright.”

“Not a morning person, is she?” a lazy voice drawled. Maddie dropped her hand to stare into Sam Roberts’s amused face. He sat across from Mitch, long, denim-clad legs stretched out, one hand hugging a coffee cup.

Of course. What was breakfast with Mitch if not another new humiliation? This town was custom-made to put her in awkward situations. She glared at Mitch, who grinned like the cat who ate the canary. “Do you ever have breakfast alone?”

He shrugged. “They’re big fans of the drop-in.”

“From the looks of her, she should be in a much better mood,” Sam said, clearly entertained.

Maddie crossed her arms over her breasts. She might as well be naked in her skimpy tank top and cotton shorts.

“No need to be shy.” Sam winked at her. “I saw you last night, although you were considerably less rumpled.”

She rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it polite to allow a girl some dignity?”

“What do you mean, last night?” Mitch asked at the same time, eyes narrowed on Sam. A muscle jumped in his forearm as his fingers tightened around his mug. “Don’t even tell me that’s what you were wearing.”

“I was sitting on the front porch when he came home.” She ran her hand through her disheveled hair, getting caught in the wild mass of tangles.

Sam gave Mitch a sly, devious smile. “Not my fault you left her alone for just anyone to come take a peek.”

Mitch’s attention snapped to Maddie. She refused to fidget under his scrutiny. One golden brow rose.

Maddie huffed. “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

“Hmmmm . . .” Mitch gave her a through once-over.

Maddie’s chin shot up. “This is your fault, not mine!”

Sam scrubbed his blond, stubbled jaw. “She’s got a point.”

“I suppose she does,” Mitch said, but his tone spoke of a different story. Those amber eyes told her without words that she’d be paying later with his own delicious brand of torture.

She shivered at the thought, toes practically curling in anticipation. She was going to hell.

And it was totally worth it.

Mitch flashed a cocky, knowing smile.

Maddie wanted to stick her tongue out, but that’d only make her look petty.

“Need some coffee, Princess?” Mitch asked. The chair scraped against the floor as he got up from the table. He stood in front of her, staring down at her with that look on his face.

She swallowed.

Then he was on her, kissing her. His hard body pressed against hers.

Right in front of Sam.

She squirmed, but he held her still, hands firm on her hips so she couldn’t move. All she could do was fight to not get sucked under. Desire made her head spin as memories from the night before mixed with the heat of his lips. She gripped the counter in back of her, refusing to twine herself around him.

When he pulled away, she chased his mouth, jerking when she realized what she was doing.

Mitch grinned. “I get final outfit approval.”

She straightened with as much dignity as she could muster and said haughtily, albeit breathlessly, “You most certainly do not.”

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

“Yeah, we will.”

The phone rang. Laughing, he reached around her and picked up the receiver. He smelled mouthwatering, like soap, spice, and man. She wanted to take a bite of him. Instead, she ducked under his arm and ran for the coffee machine.

“What?” Mitch said to his caller, running his hand through his hair.

Maddie grabbed a mug and poured some coffee before scooting into the chair at the table.

Sam’s smile was all innocent, his cornflower-blue eyes guileless as those of a newborn foal. “Nice night?”

She scowled, narrowing her gaze. “You don’t fool me.”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” His lips quirked as though he was trying not to laugh.

She waved a hand over him. “Your choirboy act.”

Now he chuckled outright. “Honey, I’m about as much a choirboy as you are a good girl.”

Heat flooded her cheeks, and she distracted herself by taking a sip of coffee. When she was more composed, she said, “You and your sister are cut from the same cloth.”

“I’m the more subtle of the two.”

“More devious,” she muttered under her breath.

“That’s another word.” Sam grinned.

“And shameless.”

“I’ve never seen the point in shame,” Sam said, and pointed to her. “You’ve got mud in your hair.”

She laughed. The sound came from out of nowhere, surprising her. These people were truly crazy.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mitch’s hard voice broke through her enjoyment.

Maddie whipped around in time to see him slam down the phone. His gold eyes flashed with what looked a lot like fury, but before she could ask what had happened, he stalked out of the room.

She exchanged a glance with Sam. He shrugged, but strangely, didn’t look surprised.

Maddie nibbled on her bottom lip. Did she follow Mitch? Give him space? What was the protocol? She blew out an exasperated breath. Screw protocol. She got up and headed in the direction he’d disappeared.

She found him a second later in the library, booting up his computer. “What happened?”

His jaw tense, he ignored her, drumming his fingers on the desk as he waited for the machine to work its way through the startup.

Sam wandered in and sank down onto the leather armchair as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

Mitch’s lips firmed into a hard line. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Not particularly,” Sam said, linking his hands over his stomach.

“Did you know about this?” Mitch asked, eyes narrowing.

Once again lost in the conversation, she glanced back and forth between the two men as if she were at a Ping-Pong match.

Sam nodded. “I was about to tell you, but then you got distracted.”

“You should have warned me.”

“I was trying.” Sam flicked a glance over at Maddie. “She looked like a nice distraction and bad news can wait.”

A sliver of dread snaked down Maddie’s spine, causing a chill to break over her skin. “What is going on?”

Mitch’s gaze went to the computer, and he started typing. Thirty seconds later, he shook his head. “That son of a bitch.”

Since neither guy volunteered any information, she walked around the desk and peered at the computer screen.

In big, bold, black letters the headline screamed
CAUGHT
. A picture of an older man and a young, too-beautiful-to-be-believed chestnut-haired woman filled the frame. Wide, brilliant blue eyes stared into the camera, while the man’s hand was up to block his face. The door behind them showed the telltale numbers of a hotel room.

Maddie frowned, not understanding. What did this have to do with Mitch?

She read the caption and took in a quick breath. It couldn’t be. That was impossible.

Stunned, she said, “I never connected the names.”

“Why would you?” Mitch scrolled down the page and shook his head. “It’s a common name.”

Plus, why would she ever think that a member of one of Chicago’s oldest, most elite families would be hiding here, in some small little town of barely twenty-five hundred?

But somehow, it made perfect sense. It explained so much about him. All the questions rambling around in her head clicked into place until the pieces completed an overall picture. “You’re . . .”

“Yes, Maddie, I’m Senator Riley’s son.” He turned back to the pictures filling the monitor. “As you can see, the apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree.”

 

 

“How is he?” Gracie asked, concern, darkening her sky-blue eyes.

Maddie ran a finger around the rim of her coffee cup, staring into the mud-brown puddle pooling in the saucer. “I don’t know.”

Mitch had been distant for most of the day. He’d finally made an excuse and headed to the bar around two, and she hadn’t spoken to him since. She’d tried to broach the subject of his father’s scandal one time, and that had been enough. His expression had shuttered closed and the glint in his eyes had made it clear that the topic was off limits.

“He doesn’t want to talk about it. He never told me about his family, so it was a shock.”

Gracie’s blond brows drew together as a frown formed on her lips. “He’s a guy. I doubt he wants to talk to anyone.” Gracie’s hand covered hers. “But he wants you here, I promise.”

A bad feeling had settled in the pit of her stomach. The real world had closed in. She could feel it in her bones. “I hate reality.”

Gracie’s head cocked as she watched Maddie with speculation. “Sam says you need to stay.”

Maddie had no idea where that little tidbit of information might be going. “How would he know?”

Gracie shrugged and looked out the window overlooking Main Street. “He just knows things. I don’t know how, but he’s always right.”

Surprised, Maddie laughed. “And did he say why?”

The blond curls on Gracie’s head bounced as she shook her head. “No, only that’s the way it needs to be.”

Maddie studied the woman across from her, taking in her set jaw and troubled eyes. “Wait, you’re serious.”

“Yes. If Sam says so, you need to listen.”

Maddie thought back to last night, with his dead-on assessment of the situation between her and Mitch. It hadn’t exactly been a stretch, so it hadn’t seemed odd at the time. “What, is he psychic?”

“Ssshhh, don’t say that!” Gracie glanced around Earl’s Diner, suspiciously eyeing the other customers. “He hates that word.”

She was serious. Maddie shook her head. “What are you saying?”

Gracie tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “I’m saying I trust my brother, so you’re staying here until he says otherwise.”

Again, Maddie laughed. “What? Are you going to kidnap me?”

Gracie’s lips lifted at the corners. “If I have to chain you to my bed, I will.”

“Now that’s a fantasy come true.” A low voice had Maddie’s head shooting up. Sheriff Charlie Radcliff, with his midnight hair and fathomless eyes, smiled down at them. “How are my favorite girls today?”

“Why, we’re just fine, Sheriff.” Gracie’s tone took on a thick Southern drawl as she batted her eyes. She moved to the far end of the booth, and Charlie slid into the space next to her.

“What are you doing here?” Gracie asked.

“I was cruising down Main Street and saw your car.” He gave Maddie a smile so filled with charm and sin that she felt her cheeks flush. The silver star on his tan work shirt glinted in the sunshine streaming through the large window. “If we’re talking chains and beds, I see stopping was a wise move.”

Before Maddie could think of a thing to say, the pretty teenage waitress, who had long blond hair with hot pink streaks, hurried over. It was the fastest Maddie had seen her move since they’d sat down. Ignoring the women completely, she beamed at Charlie. “Sheriff, what can I get for you?”

“Just a Coke, honey,” Charlie said, grinning at the girl with a wink.

“I’d like a refill.” Gracie waved her cup in the air. “Like I asked you for ten minutes ago.”

The girl’s doe eyes flicked over Gracie like she was a pesky fly. “Yeah, I, like, forgot.”

Gracie snorted, and Maddie covered her smile behind her hand. Charlie managed to be sexy, scary, and downright charming all at the same time, and Maddie couldn’t blame the teenager for being smitten. The girl practically ran in the direction of the soda fountain.

Gracie shook her head. “That was disgusting. This is why I hate going out in public with you.”

“Not my fault, darlin’.’” Charlie swung an arm around her and tugged her close. “I don’t have to do a damn thing.”

“You were encouraging her.”

“I asked for a Coke.” Charlie eyed Gracie with a cop’s suspicion. “Are you jealous?”

“God no, you egomaniac.” Gracie patted his cheek. “This is one more example of why I like to keep you in the bedroom where you belong.”

Charlie laughed and kissed her temple.

Maddie didn’t understand one thing about Gracie’s relationship with Charlie, but she had enough problems without trying to figure them out. She took a sip of coffee, cringing at the weak taste.

What was she going to do? Maddie turned to look through the window, and a surge of panic coursed through her like heroin. The fine hairs at the nape of her neck rose, and she put the cup back in the saucer with a shaking hand.

Oh, Jesus, no. Please no.

She put her hand on the window and sweat beaded her temples. She’d known it. Since she’d read the article about Mitch’s father, she’d known the momentary slice of heaven was over.

Reality was coming to get her. A wave of nausea rolled through her.

“Maddie, what’s wrong?” Gracie said, sounding alarmed.

Steve. How had he found her? Maddie closed her eyes and scrubbed her fists into the sockets, hoping the vision would vanish. She opened her eyes and blinked.

He was gone.

She waited for the rush of relief at finding that the apparition had disappeared, but it didn’t come. In fact, her fear increased. Cold with dread, she leaned closer to the glass, peering up and down Revival’s Main Street.

Nothing. She saw only a lone bike rider and a few families out for a stroll.

“Maddie!” Charlie’s sharp voice snapped her out of her daze.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. Had she imagined Steve? Was she hallucinating? Did she need to go to confession?