I had no idea what came over me. One minute, I was standing beside her. The next, she was in my arms and I was kissing her.
Shock rendered her stiff, then suddenly she was kissing me back.
It was spectacular.
Her lips were full and soft. Her curves fit against me as if she was sculpted just for me. I slid my tongue along her bottom lip, and she opened for me. She tasted of chocolate and something sweet. Addictive. Her tongue was velvet against mine. I slid my hand up her neck, feeling the rich silkiness of her hair under my fingers. They itched to pull out the clips holding her hair back and play with her curls. She wrapped one hand around my bicep, her fingers digging into my skin. The other, she ran through my hair, making me tremble. She whimpered low in her throat, and I grunted in approval.
Then she stiffened again and pushed away. I moved back, my breathing ragged. She stared at me, her eyes huge. Then suddenly, she lunged, and we were locked together again. My pulse raced the way my Mustang did on an open stretch of highway. My body hugged her curves the way the car hugged the road, the speed and hum of the engine pure adrenaline.
She was the same.
Until she pulled back again, this time stepping away. My arms felt strangely empty without her in them. “Consider the debt paid,” I rasped, reaching out to touch her again.
She slapped away my hand, her eyes shooting daggers my way.
“You are so…”
“Sexy?” I asked. “Incredible?” I opened my arms, waggling my fingers. “Come back, and I’ll show you how incredible.”
Her hands curled into fists, and she punched me. Right in the stomach. I glanced down, trying not to laugh. I barely felt it even though I knew she’d put a lot of force behind the punch.
“You need some boxing lessons as well as some basic car maintenance lessons,” I stated dryly. “Is that the best you’ve got?”
She let out a muffled shriek and pushed past me, slamming her door shut. I heard the locks engage then the engine gun to life. I frowned—it really needed a tune-up, the timing was off, among other things. I tapped on her window, but she refused to roll it down.
“You need some service on the engine!” I shouted. “Call the garage.”
She flipped me the bird and drove away, scattering gravel as she went.
I stared after her, tempted to hop in my car and follow her. But I resisted—I had a feeling I had already done enough damage.
I tugged a hand through my hair in vexation.
What the hell was I doing kissing a stranger? I didn’t do things like that. My mama had brought me up to respect women, treat them well. Not haul off and kiss them because they were feisty, sexy, and talked back. Mama would be appalled at my behavior. I was appalled at myself.
I had to be overtired. That was it.
Yet, even as I got in my car and drove home, all I could think about was how her lips felt on mine. How she fit in my arms, her luscious curves pressed against me.
How she tasted.
And how much I wanted to do it again.
Bad behavior or not.
CHAPTER THREE
Gabby
I watched the stranger in the rearview mirror become smaller as the distance between us grew, until he disappeared as I went around a bend in the road.
What the hell had just happened?
What had I allowed to happen?
I’d known the tire was bad when I got out of the SUV, and any hope I’d had of making it home without changing it was gone.
I had been struggling so hard to get the jack out of the back I hadn’t even heard the black muscle car pull in behind me. The stupid jack was steadfastly stuck, and I was wasting precious daylight trying to get it unstuck, growing more anxious by the second.
The sound of that deep, melodic voice made me spin around, and the sight that met my eyes was unexpected.
I wasn’t sure I had ever seen a man that imposing before. Or as sexy. His T-shirt stretched over his pecs and abs, showing off the definition of his physique even in the fading light. A tattoo peeked out from under the sleeve of his shirt. Dark hair and eyes, a wide smile, and his deep voice made something inside me tremble. I had to blink to clear my head. Desire, long dormant, woke up, jarring me with its power. I clutched the jack, planning on using it as a weapon if needed, but he had simply offered to help me. I was grateful until he examined my tire and began lecturing me. It reminded me too much of what I had run from, and unlike my younger self, I wasn’t going to take it. I snapped back at him, which seemed only to amuse him, and we spent the next few moments in barbed banter. Somehow I sensed only teasing and genuine concern in his words. There was no anger or nastiness in his tone.