He looked down at her. “Is that a yes?”
She gazed up at him for what seemed like an eternity as he held his breath and waited for that one little word.
“Maddie?”
He gripped her hips and looked at that mouth and felt like he was going to die if he didn’t get her home soon, and she must have read the look on his face, because she smiled slightly.
Then she pulled his head down and kissed him.
CHAPTER 13
Maddie followed him up the stairs, her heart thudding harder with every step closer to his apartment. She was going to do this. She was actually doing this. The scuffing of their shoes over the concrete steps was a continuous reminder that with every second, she was getting one step closer to doing this.
The redbrick building loomed large in front of her, big and imposing with its endless doors. She glanced at Brian. Alcohol had taken the edge off her nerves, but her pulse still pounded as she thought of what was about to happen. She gazed up at his broad shoulders and felt a shudder of anticipation as he reached the top.
Her toe caught on the last step, and she bumped into him.
“Watch out.” His arm wrapped around her waist. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just—yeah.”
I’m not drunk, she wanted to say, but then again, maybe she was. A little. She was at least tipsy, and as he looked at her, she could tell he was wondering if she was going to change her mind. For a moment, they stood at the top of the stairs, buffeted by the wind, and she knew this was it. This was her chance to back out, her chance to heed the warning bells clanging in her head. But she wasn’t going to heed anything, because he had that look again, that fierce want. In all her life, no one had ever looked at her that way. She’d been resisting, but she’d made up her mind now. She was going to trust him. She was going to let this happen and see if that look of his lived up to its promise.
And just like that, her feet were moving again, and there was no turning back. He steered her to the nearest door—black like all the others—and she registered the dull brass numbers as he took out his keys. Vaguely, she thought she should commit the numbers to memory. What if she wanted to come back? But tonight wasn’t like that. Tonight was a one-off. She would enjoy it while it lasted, no repeats, no looking back.
He reached around her and pushed open the door. She stepped over the threshold as a bright light switched on. She blinked as she glanced around and got a quick barrage of impressions—black sofa, huge TV, empty walls—before the door thudded shut.
Maddie turned to look at him. He stood in the glaring light of the foyer, gazing down at her with a determined glint in his eyes. She glanced at his bandage and had a quick flashback of the abject fear she’d experienced when she’d thought he was trapped in that fire.
He lifted a hand to her face, and she shook off the feeling, focusing instead on that soul-searing kiss back in the parking lot. That was the memory she wanted. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, wanting the moment back, wanting to think about him and nothing else, not a single other thing, for the next few hours. And then he kissed her.
She lost herself in the sharp taste of whiskey, the feel of his stubble rasping against her chin as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. His hands slid over her hips, and she twined her arms around his neck and burrowed her fingertips into the silky bristles of his hair. This was what she’d wanted, what she’d been craving and denying herself. Now she sank into him, and the ugliness of the day receded. All the despair and all the injustice faded away, and there was only his mouth and his hands and the solid heat of him. There was something good in that, but her brain was too fuzzy to pinpoint it. But she didn’t need to. She wanted to shut everything out and just feel.
She rocked her hips against him, and the low moan in his throat gave her a rush of pride. She loved that she turned him on. The fabric at her waist shifted, and suddenly, his warm fingers moved over her rib cage, sliding up, up, up, and settling possessively over her breast. And then it was her turn to moan as his hand pushed the lace aside, and a thumb brushed roughly over her nipple.
“Maddie.” His voice was hoarse. He dipped his head down and kissed her, right through the thin silk, and every nerve jumped. He trailed kisses up her neck and settled on her lips again, rubbing her sensitive skin with his thumb as he kissed her mouth.
Then he shifted, turning her in his arms, and she opened her eyes to find herself being propelled down a carpeted hallway. Anticipation tingled inside her. His hands moved to her hips, steering her as he nipped the side of her neck. They stepped into the bedroom, where she was relieved by the dimness. Even in her bourbon-tinged state, she had enough awareness to know she’d enjoy this more in the dark.
He released her and stepped over to the wooden dresser. His back was to her, and she watched his broad shoulders as his hands went to his belt. He turned and looked at her as he pulled off his holster and laid it on the dresser.
She closed the door, plunging them into darkness, except for the light outside still slanting through the blinds. She looked at the bed, and her skin tingled as he stepped closer.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him, determined not to lose her nerve now.
He pulled her to him and kissed her again, and all the doubts faded to black as his strong arms tightened around her. She wanted him, and he wanted her, and right now, that was all she was going to think about. He eased her back, and the wall was cool behind her as his hands slid up her sides again. He went for the tiny buttons, and she smiled at his frustrated noise as he tried to undo them. She brushed his hands away to do it herself. The instant she finished, he slid the fabric off her shoulders, and she felt the cool air on her skin. His hot mouth fastened on her breast as she leaned back against the wall.
She reached up, but the cuffs of her sleeves trapped her arms, and she had to nudge him away so she could undo the buttons at her wrists. When her hands were free, he tossed the shirt away and pressed his weight into her, pinning her in place as he kissed her. His fingers dug into her bra, and she squirmed against him. He tugged her skirt, hiking it up. He pulled her thigh up to rest at his hip, and somewhere in her mind, she realized that leaning back against this wall, pinned by him, was the most erotic sensation she’d felt in her life. His fingers slid up the back of her thigh, and he muttered something, but she didn’t hear it. She didn’t care—she was too focused on his mouth and his touch and the rock-hard heat of his body.
He eased her leg down and moved his hands around her waist, searching for the zipper.
“Side,” she whispered, and closed her eyes as she waited for him to find it. She heard the rasp of the zipper, the whoosh of her skirt hitting the floor. She started to kick off her heels, but he put his hand on her thigh.
“Keep those on.”
She went still as she watched him watching her in the dimness. His eyes looked black now, and she could see the shadow of stubble over his jaw. He reached out a fingertip and trailed it over her breast and then her navel, then back up again. His gaze made her skin flush and her insides go all warm and liquidy.
She took his hand and led him to the bed. The mattress creaked as she climbed on and turned to face him. She was on her knees, and her head came to the bottom of his chin.
She hooked her finger inside his pants and tugged him close. She started on his buttons, but he moved her hands aside and did it himself. He threw his shirt to the floor and yanked his white T-shirt over his head, and she was treated to her first real look at the body she’d only guessed about before. Even in the dimness, she could see the definition of his muscles and the dark smattering of hair. She trailed her hands down his torso, and he stepped back and quickly shucked his pants. She felt a sharp jolt of attraction before he pulled her in for another kiss. This one was deeper, more forceful than before, and she tried to match the intensity as his arms wrapped around her. There was something fierce now as his hands explo
red her skin. This wasn’t languid familiarity. This wasn’t some halfhearted effort prompted by obligation. Her bra loosened and disappeared, and his mouth burned a path down her neck. He wanted her. And not just wanted, demanded, with his eyes and his hands and his tongue. His fingers slipped between her legs, and it was an electric shock, and her head connected with his chin as she let out a gasp.
“Sorry!” she squeaked, but the word got smothered as he kissed her again and his fingers slid over her.
And then the world was spinning, and the hot, intoxicating feeling wrapped around her. She clung to his shoulders, tilting her head back and letting the heat take over until she felt as if her body would ignite like a match.
“You like that?”
She tightened her arms around his neck.
“Huh?”
She made a little sound in her throat, and then he planted his knee between hers and eased her back on the bed. Her legs wrapped around him, and soon they were locked in a wrestling match, and she opened her eyes as he planted her wrists on either side of her head. A smile curled at the side of his mouth, and she had enough brain cells still working to know that he thought he’d won something here. She bucked under him and shoved him off. His grunt of surprise turned to soft laughter as she straddled him and cuffed his wrists on either side of his shoulders.
She hovered over him, taunting him, leaning close but not close enough, until he shot upright and lunged for her breast. His hands clamped around her waist, and he held her in place as he kissed her.
He’d been wanting to do this—she could tell—and she sat back and let him do exactly what he pleased, as her body burned and she was on the sharp edge of losing it.
She closed her eyes and shifted on top of him, and then he flipped her onto her back again, and she felt the lace sliding down her legs and her high heels—finally—being pulled off. They hit the wall with a thud-thunk, and then his full weight was on her, and they were skin to skin. He kissed her mouth, her neck, her breasts, and then stopped to gaze down at her. She rested her hand on his chest and stared up at him with something close to awe. She loved his heart throbbing under her fingers and his weight pressed between her legs. He reached across her, and she heard the nightstand drawer opening and closing as he took out a condom.
She waited, heart pounding. He looked down at her, and she held her breath as he moved her thighs apart and pushed into her.
She clutched him tight, and for an endless moment, they were locked that way, not moving. Then he shifted his weight and pushed up on his palms and started a slow, steady rhythm that made her mind go completely blank. She pulled him closer. She held on. Every inch of her burned, and she felt the relentless force of him pounding into her.
“Brian.”
He quickened the pace. She struggled to meet him, to match him, to make it to that soaring peak.
She needed him to hurry. She needed . . . needed . . .
“Brian.”
His muscles bunched under her hands. His weight drove into her. The earth shifted as every muscle in her body tightened and she held him, clinging to his shoulders, as pure, blinding pleasure surged through her. And then surged again. And just as she shuddered and went completely lax, he gave a last powerful thrust and collapsed on top of her.
Maddie woke up thirsty. She looked at the ceiling and felt a jolt of panic at not being in her bed. She felt another jolt as she realized she was in Brian’s.
He was sprawled beside her on his stomach. Naked. She was naked, too. She looked at his shadowy form beside her—his muscular back, his narrow hips, his long legs now tangled in the sheets. She closed her eyes and let the memories wash over her. She remembered the slide of his hands, the feel of his powerful body. She reached out and brushed her fingers over his forearm, just to confirm that he was real and not some alcohol-induced fantasy. His skin was warm beneath her fingertips, and she lay there silently as the reality of what she’d done seeped in.
She sat up, feeling a little dazed and a lot exposed. How much had she had to drink? She looked around the unfamiliar room. She looked at Brian. What if he never wanted her again? Or even more unsettling, what if he did?
Maddie slipped out of bed. A wave of dizziness crashed over her, and she touched the dresser to steady herself. She looked around, trying to decide what to do. Her car was still back at the bar. She wasn’t in any shape to drive home.
She grabbed a shirt off the floor and tiptoed out of the room. The hall light was on, and she switched it off. Her eyes adjusted to the dimness as she padded into the kitchen, where a light glowed over the stove. She stared at the wall of cabinets. Opening them all was beyond her, so she turned on the faucet. She cupped her hand under it and ducked her head down to lap up water like a feral cat. She glanced into the window above the sink.
Oh, God.
Her hair looked like Medusa. Her makeup was smudged. She had a bruise on her neck . . . She leaned closer. Not a bruise, a hickey.
“Hey.”
She jumped and whirled around. “God, you scared me!”
Brian leaned against the door frame, watching her. She shut off the faucet.
“Looking for something to eat?” His voice was gravelly, and his hair stuck out on one side. He wore black boxer-briefs, and she tried not to stare at his perfect torso.
“I was thirsty.”
He looked at her for a moment, then crossed the kitchen and opened a cabinet. He filled a glass with water from the fridge dispenser and handed it to her.
“Thanks.” She gulped down the water and watched him over the rim of the glass. What should she say? He stepped closer, and her heart started to pound.
“That’s my shirt.”
“Sorry.”
He parted the fabric, and her breasts tingled. He had that look again. And as much as she wanted to run away from this stupid mistake, she knew she wasn’t going anywhere.
He circled her waist with his hands, rubbing his thumbs over her hip bones as he steered her slowly out of the kitchen. Her feet touched carpet, and the backs of her thighs bumped against the wooden table. He took the glass from her hand and reached over to put it on the counter.
She looked back at the table. She looked at him.
“We should go to bed,” she said.
He leaned down and pressed his mouth to her ear. “Not yet.”
CHAPTER 14
Maddie squinted through the windshield, wishing she could drive blindfolded. Of course, it had to be sunny this morning. Of course, she had to hit traffic. And of course, she had to have a staff meeting in exactly one hour, so there was no way she could slink into a dark room and crawl under the covers to wallow in misery for the next hundred hours—or however long it took to get rid of her screaming headache.
Beer before liquor, never been sicker. Her sister Tracy’s saying came back to her, those helpful words of wisdom that she’d dispensed one long-ago weekend when their parents had been out of town and they’d snuck beer into the house and decided to throw a party. For years, Maddie had had no trouble following the advice, but yesterday she’d disregarded not only her sister’s drinking slogan but every other rational thought that had entered her mind.
Now she turned onto her street and wished for a time machine so she could erase last night. Or at least skip over this morning. Her head was pounding, her stomach was doing flip-flops, and she couldn’t imagine anything more miserable than an endless staff meeting in a brightly lit conference room.
But then a silver BMW glided to a stop in front of her house, and she realized that she could.
“Shit,” she muttered, swinging into the driveway. She thrust her car into park and thunked her forehead on the steering wheel, sending a bullet of pain straight through her skull.
Maddie sat up and looked at her clothes. She checked her reflection in the mirror. Even with sunglasses, it was beyond hopeless. She grabbed her coat and purse from the passenger seat and climbed out.
A trim, smiling, sun-bronzed specimen of mal
e humanity strolled up her driveway.
“ ‘Morning.” He pulled off his designer shades, and the smile faltered. “What happened to you?”
“Late night.”
His gaze dropped to her wrinkled skirt. Maddie tossed her coat over her arm to hide the dirt on her cuffs.
“What do you want, Mitch?”
He pretended to be offended. “Can’t a guy stop by for a cup of coffee?”
She strode past him and up the stairs. “I’m late for work.”
“This won’t take long.”
She unlocked the door, and the high-pitched beep greeted her like a pickax. She hurried across the foyer to tap in her alarm code.
“That’s new,” he said.
She gritted her teeth as she tossed her purse and coat onto the chair. He’d only been over a handful of times, but he’d noticed every detail. She had no doubt he was noticing details right now, too, including the slovenly state of her living room.
“I’ve got to get in the shower, so—”
“One cup,” he said. “Then I’ll get out of your way.”
One drink. Brian’s words flashed through her mind, and her stomach roiled again. She wasn’t up for this. She wanted to tell Mitch to get lost, but he was persistent as hell, and she couldn’t handle a fight right now.
“Help yourself,” she said, and left him standing in the living room.
Maddie avoided her reflection as she stripped off her clothes and jumped into the shower. The hot spray made her dizzy, so she set the water to lukewarm and quickly cleaned up. She toweled off, brushed her hair, and squirted Visine into her eyes—for all the good it would probably do. She pulled on jeans and an oversize sweater that she hoped would conceal all her cuts, scrapes, and hickeys.
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