by Elle Kennedy
A loud cough sounded. Glancing over, Ben saw the hot dog vendor raising his bushy eyebrows at them.
Maggie waved a dismissive hand. “Just a figure of speech, Joe. Pretend you didn’t hear that.”
She said good-bye and gestured for Ben to follow her. Moments later they were leaning against a brick wall a few yards away, and Ben couldn’t help but be impressed as he watched Maggie eat.
It had been a while since he’d met a woman who dined in anything less than a five-star restaurant, and if he’d even dared to suggest to a date they indulge in some street meat he’d probably get slapped. But Maggie, she looked completely comfortable as she chewed on her hot dog and wiped ketchup from the corner of her delectable mouth.
She didn’t seem to notice the people hurrying by or the sound of cars whizzing down Broadway, and when a cop car sped past, sirens blazing, she didn’t even blink. She acted like having dinner in the middle of a busy street was no big deal.
“Is there a reason why you’re staring at me like that?” she asked, jarring him from his thoughts.
He shrugged. “I like the way you eat.”
One reddish-brown eyebrow lifted. “Is that some weird pick-up line?”
A laugh slipped from his throat. Damn, he liked her. “No, just an honest-to-God compliment. It’s been a while since I’ve met a woman who eats something other than salad.”
Maggie made a face as she swallowed back the last bite of her hot dog. “If my meals consisted of salad, I’d die of malnutrition.” She wiped her mouth demurely with a napkin and then tossed it in a nearby trashcan. “Now, listen up, Mr. Movie Star.”
He couldn’t help but grin. “I’m all ears.”
“What do you want from me?” Her hands dropped to her hips again, and he noticed her fingernails were short and unpolished. “I already apologized for last night and you passed on my offer for a free drink, so why are you here?”
Before he could answer, she narrowed those emerald eyes. “You’re not going to sue me, are you?”
Taken aback, he said, “What?”
“Sue me. For sexual harassment or something.”
“Of course I’m not going to sue you.”
“You better not.” She scowled at him. “It would never hold up in court, anyway.”
He stared at her, bewildered. Who was this woman? One minute she was angry with him, the next she was accusing him of launching a lawsuit. It was exasperating, but in a cute way, and as he stood there looking at her, he finally figured out what it was that drew him to her.
It wasn’t the fact that she was oblivious to his career, or the way her curvy body had felt pressed against his. It wasn’t the appealing blushing, or the killer legs, or how great her ass looked in that short skirt.
He liked her because she treated him like a…human being.
She knew who he was now, and she still didn’t care. She wasn’t trying to impress him, wasn’t holding her tongue because he was a big, bad movie star. Aside from his mother, this redheaded waitress was the first female who wasn’t scared to tell him exactly what she was thinking.
“Okay, then what do you want?” she repeated, her lips pursed in what looked like annoyance. “And don’t say a date, because I really don’t have time for that.”
He laughed again and decided this was the best conversation he’d ever had with a woman.
“What do I want,” he repeated thoughtfully. He pulled one hand out of his pocket and with it came those pink panties. With a chivalrous bow, he handed her the silky wad. “First, to return these. I don’t want your pretty little butt getting cold.”
A whisper of a smile crossed her luscious mouth as she tucked the underwear into her purse. “My butt is just fine, Mr. Barrett. I do own more than one pair of panties. And second?”
“Second?”
“You said the underwear was first. What’s second?”
He poked his tongue in his cheek and eyed her, experiencing one of those rare times when words escaped him. What did he want? Well, he knew what he needed, and that was to figure out where to spend the night without ending up on the news again.
What he wanted, though, was nothing more than to pull this quirky redhead into his arms and kiss the hell out of her. And then maybe go back to her place and fuck the hell out of her.
Then again…who said that his needs and wants were mutually exclusive?
He needed a bed.
He wanted this woman in bed with him.
Why couldn’t he have both?
“You’re doing it again,” Maggie blurted out, jolting him back to reality.
“Doing what?”
“Staring at me. Be honest, do I have something stuck between my teeth?”
He laughed. “No.”
Her features grew taut again. “Okay then, we’ve wasted enough time here, Mr. Barrett. I have to go back to work and you—”
“Let me stay at your place tonight.”
Maggie slammed her jaw closed so abruptly she could hear a few teeth rattling around in her mouth. Was this man insane?
Let me stay at your place tonight.
Seven words she’d never expected to hear, and yet the second he’d uttered them, a thrill shot up her spine.
Fine, so maybe the idea of ditching Summer and her steel drum and bringing this sex god into her domestic space was seriously tempting. But unlike most people, Maggie was pretty skilled at resisting temptation.
Yeah, Eve probably that thought too, before she took a chunk out of that apple.
Maggie stared into Ben’s dark blue eyes and wondered if he was joking. He didn’t look like it. No amusement in that sexy gaze. No I’m-just-kidding-around-with-you expression.
Did he actually think she would let him stay at her apartment?
“No offense or anything, but are you strapped for cash?” she asked with just a tad of hesitance in her tone. The guy’s financial status wasn’t any of her business, but she had to know.
“No, I’m doing all right in the finance department.”
He took a step back, but she still felt the heat radiating from his lean body. The leather jacket he wore didn’t emphasize his muscled arms or rippled chest, but she remembered those details well. She wondered if he had any other tattoos she might have missed in the dark. Then she wondered why her thighs trembled at the idea there might be more.
For God’s sake, stop checking him out and focus.
Right. It didn’t matter how many tattoos he might have hidden on that hard body of his. That was no reason to invite him to stay with her.
“Okay, so you’ve got money,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Which means you can afford to check into a hotel.”
“I’d much rather stay with you, Red.”
Eyes narrowed, she asked, “Are you in trouble with the law?”
“No. I just need a place to stay.”
“Why?”
“Do you always ask so many questions?” he teased.
“When a stranger asks to crash at my place, yes.”
“We’re not strangers.” He moved closer again and dipped his head so they were at eye level. “We’ve been in bed together, remember?”
He had to bring that up again, didn’t he?
“I just don’t get why you’re asking me this.”
He sighed, and his warm breath tickled the bridge of her nose. “Here’s the short version, Red. As you now know, I’m somewhat of a celebrity. I haven’t slept in days because the press is on my back for a silly scandal they fabricated. This morning they thought I was abducted. The cops gave a statement that I wasn’t, but the media is still camped out in front of my house.”
“No friends you could call?”
“Friends?” He made a bitter noise that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a snort. “Let me enlighten you about my so-called friends. A guy I grew up with, inseparable since we were six years old, I was best man at his wedding. Last year he sold pictures he had of me from his bachelor party for a cool qua
rter million. Sound like a friend to you?”
Maggie swallowed. “Ouch.” Then, realizing she’d let her sympathy distract her, she said, “Okay, so you’ve succeeded in making me feel sorry for you.”
“I don’t expect you to feel sorry—”
“But it doesn’t mean you can coax a free bed out of me.”
He took a step closer and lowered his head so that his lips brushed her ear. “I doubt you need much coaxing, Red. It’s obvious you want me in your bed as much as I want to be there.”
“Excuse me?” A spark of anger lit in her stomach at the sheer arrogance dripping from his tone. “Where do you get off?”
A lazy grin spread across his mouth. “Well, last night, I got off while lying in bed thinking about a certain redhead who’d started fondling me.”
Heat rolled through her like an avalanche. Had he just said what she thought he did?
“Tonight, though,” he added with that wicked grin of his, “I figured maybe we’d get off together.”
The arrogance returned to his tone, and her arousal was replaced with another flicker of anger. Guys were never this forward with her, and though his flirting was kind of cute, the way he assumed he could just snap his fingers and get her into bed was almost insulting.
“Look, I get it. You apparently think you’re God’s gift to women. But let me tell you something, Ben Barrett, I’m not one of those girls who rips off her shirt in the presence of a big celebrity, okay? In fact, the last thing I want to do is get involved with someone like—”
He kissed her.
Just like that. No permission, no warning, he just slammed his hot mouth on hers and kissed her.
If any other man had cut her off like that she would’ve probably slugged him, but Maggie found herself unable to move under the assault of Ben’s lips. Her bones seemed to melt, her limbs flopped around like a wad of Play-Doh being pulled in all directions by the hands of a toddler, and yet she knew, even if her motor skills were functional, she wouldn’t be able to pull away anyway.
Like last night, he didn’t take the time to be gentle. He parted her lips with his tongue then shoved it inside her mouth, while his hands drifted down to her waist to keep her against him. And just when she began to respond, just when her tongue flicked against his and the fingers of her right hand slid into his dark hair, he pulled back.
And grinned at her.
“Know what that was?” he said cheerfully.
She struggled to catch her breath. “A totally insensitive way to shut me up?”
“Our first fight.” He dropped his hands from her hips and stuck them back in his pockets. “So, when are you off work, Red?”
All she could do was stare at him. Were all movie stars this crazy or was it just this particular one?
“I’m done at two,” she found herself replying. “Why?”
He ignored the question. “I’ll meet you here when you’re done. You can give me your answer then.”
She swallowed. “My answer?”
“About letting me stay with you.”
“I already said—”
He pressed his index finger to her lips, which caused a shiver to dance up her spine. “Think about it. That’s all I ask. Give me your answer after you’ve had a chance to do that.” He shot her that cocky smile again. “Not that there’s much to think about. You and I both know exactly where I’ll be spending the night, don’t we, Maggie?”
Chapter Four
Maggie would’ve really liked to come up with an indignant comeback to the cocky little remark Ben had tossed her way, but she had to go inside and finish her shift before she could think of something indignant enough.
In your dreams had been on the forefront of her brain, but not only did it sound totally juvenile, she had a feeling it wouldn’t faze Ben Barrett, who hands down had to be the most arrogant man on the planet.
She was still shaking her head to herself when she reentered the bar, and not even the chattering crowd could distract her from her thoughts. A new musical had just opened at the theater down the street, and though Maggie found herself hurrying from table to table to cater to the post-show crowd, though her hands scribbled down orders and her legs carried her to the kitchen and back, her brain had other things to worry about.
Like what to say to Ben when she finished work.
No would be the smart response. Yes, of course, would be the stupid one. In fact, she could think of half a dozen reasons why saying “yes” would be a bad, bad idea.
One, Summer would never agree to it.
This could’ve been a super reason, if not for the fact that Summer wouldn’t be there. She was staying at Tygue’s for the rest of the weekend, and the couple was leaving for Jamaica early Monday morning, which meant Maggie would have the place to herself for eight days…
“Don’t even think it,” she muttered to herself.
“What’s wrong with a strawberry daiquiri?”
Realizing she’d spoken out loud, Maggie shot a reassuring look to the balding, middle-aged man sitting at one of her booths. “What? Oh, nothing’s wrong, sir. The strawberry daiquiri is delicious.”
“Wayne, she’s trying to tell you it’s not manly,” the man’s female companion grumbled. “Order a beer, for God’s sake.”
Wayne set his jaw. “I’m having a daiquiri, Jeannine.”
The duo began arguing about masculine versus feminine drinks, and Maggie slinked away, the bickering couple all but forgotten as she resumed her mental list of reasons to tell Ben to get lost.
Two, she didn’t even know him. He was famous, sure, but not to her. How could she be sure he wasn’t an axe murderer who hid behind his celebrity status while he hacked silly waitresses to pieces?
There, try to challenge that one, she told that little voice in her head. The voice stayed quiet, but Maggie could tell it was unfazed.
She headed for the counter, still deep in thought.
Three, he was arrogant.
And then there was reason number four—he was a good kisser.
And why is this bad?
Well, because his high-caliber kissing skills would be nothing but a distraction. She didn’t have time for distractions. Her exams were coming up. She needed to study. Needed to focus. Needed…
Sex.
She mentally chided her hormones for raising their voice, but she had to admit they brought up a good point. First, her night with Tony hadn’t panned out, then she’d found herself in Ben’s bed—which had only deepened that sexual ache—and now, after the hot kiss he’d planted on her outside, the ache was even worse.
“You look busy.”
Maggie glanced up in surprise as Summer approached the counter. Setting a martini glass down on her tray, she pushed all thoughts of Ben and sex and sex with Ben out of her mind, and smiled at her roommate.
“Hey! What brings you here?”
“I came to say goodbye.”
“You’re not leaving ’til Monday.”
Summer shrugged and ran a hand through her stick-straight blonde hair. “Yeah, but I’ll be at Tygue’s tonight and tomorrow, so I figured I’d say goodbye now.”
Looking around, Maggie spotted Linda and met the older woman’s eyes. “Break?” she mouthed. She gestured to Summer, who’d been Linda’s pet when she’d waitressed at the bar.
With a nod, Linda waved at Summer, then held up five fingers, indicating the number of minutes Maggie could steal away for. Normally she never took unscheduled breaks, but since Summer was here, she might as well squeeze some advice out of her level-headed friend.
They headed for the employee lounge in the back, where Maggie flopped down on the ugly plaid couch and reached down to rub her sore ankles. “You’re so lucky you quit,” she grumbled, dreading how much worse her feet would feel when her shift finally ended.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your degree soon and leave this place too.” Summer leaned against the arm of the couch and eyed her expectantly. “So what’s up? Did you bring
me back here for a private goodbye kiss?”
“I need your help.”
“What’d you do?”
“Nothing,” Maggie said, insulted. “I just need you to talk me out of something.”
Oh God, was this how close she’d come to agreeing to Ben’s request? She’d thought she’d done a good job sifting through the cons, that when she saw him again after work the word “no” would fly out of her mouth as easy as the bad notes flew from Summer’s drum.
Why was her resolve faltering now?
“Remember my stranger from last night?” she said with a sigh.
Summer grinned. “How could I forget?”
“Well, he’s no longer a stranger. He showed up today.”
A gasp came barreling out of Summer’s throat. “No! He actually tracked you down? Why?”
“He said he wanted to see me.”
“Well, that’s nice of him.”
She stared at her friend. “You don’t find that the least bit strange?”
“Strange? No. I think it’s kind of sweet.”
Maggie snorted. “Trust me. He’s not sweet. He’s arrogant and presumptuous and—”
“You like him.”
She replied with a dirty look and a stubborn silence.
“Is it so bad, actually liking someone?” Summer teased. “Just go on a date with him, see what happens.”
“He doesn’t want a date,” she said through clenched teeth. “He wants to have a sleepover.”
“A sleepover? You mean—ohhhh.” Summer’s eyes lit up. “So what the hell are you grumbling about? You said he was gorgeous, you two had chemistry, why not dub him the new Tony?”
“Because he’s not Tony. He’s demanding and complicated.”
“So maybe you need demanding and complicated. When was the last time you got involved with a guy without calling the shots?” Summer frowned. “I get you have goals, Mags, but that’s no reason to stop having fun. If I were you, I’d totally be up for a sleepover.”
Summer stood up and smoothed down the front of her pink A-line skirt. “I’ve gotta go. Tygue’s waiting for me outside.”
“What?” Maggie shot to her feet. “You can’t go. You never talked me out of anything.”