Take Me (Take a Chance 4)

backward. For a second, he feared he’d misread this woman. Feared he’d basically accosted a woman in the street—a woman who had no desire for him after all. He held his hands up, his heart dropping to his stomach.

“Look, I’m s—”

She flung herself at him. He winced, expecting her to sock him in the eye like he deserved. But instead, she wrapped her arms and long, lean legs around him, barely giving him time to catch her and hold her up. And then she kissed him. Everything felt right in the world again—including the woman in his arms. She belonged there and he wasn’t letting her go any time soon.

Her tongue slid into his mouth, entwining with his, and she buried her hands in his hair, yanking him closer. The heels of her cowboy boots dug into his ass and her nails scraped his scalp. She seemed like the type of woman who would draw blood first and ask questions later.

And, damn, that was fucking hot.

He deepened the kiss, fighting to take back control, but she battled him. They grappled with each other until she ended up with her back against the building, her body draped around his, and her tongue in his mouth.

And him?

He practically came right then and there, just from a fucking kiss. She was that good. He tore his mouth from hers and she attempted to recapture it. When he lifted his face so she couldn’t reach him, she bit down on his neck.

“Jesus Christ, woman.” He drew in a rasping breath and shuddered. “Your place or mine? Mine’s a ten minute taxi ride away.”

“Mine’s five.” She hopped off of him as if she hadn’t just been practically attacking him and lifted her arm. A taxi stopped immediately. “Let’s go.”

He never got the attention of a cabbie that fast.

Of course, he didn’t look quite so amazing in a pair of short shorts and cowboy boots, either. Thank God for that. She opened the door and climbed inside. He followed her, half expecting her to slam the cab door in his face and laugh.

When she didn’t, triumph filled him. He grinned and shut the door. She told the cabbie her address—who in turn gaped at her appreciatively long enough for Mike to seriously consider bloodying his nose—and they were off.

Glancing back to him, she must’ve seen his expression. She rolled her eyes and flopped back against the seat. “Don’t ruin it by looking cocky or you’ll be going home alone.”

The hell he was. He grabbed her and pulled her up against him, running his fingers down her bare arms. She wore a long silver chain that dangled between her breasts, and a blue tank top that just barely showed off her beaded bra thingy that dancers wore. He played with the rhinestone-encrusted strap, his touch feather light. She braced herself, but didn’t move away. “No, I’m not. And neither are you.”

She shivered when he traced the sliver chain, stopping at the swell of her breasts. He traced the curve of her cleavage, not dipping inside her shirt but rather skimming along the neckline. When she bit down on her lower lip and arched her back, he could barely stop himself from claiming her mouth again. But he wouldn’t give the cabbie a free show.

She was his tonight, and his alone.

She lifted her mouth to his, but he slid a finger in between their mouths like she had done to him earlier. She pulled back, her eyes narrow slits. “What game are you playing? I swear to God if we get back to my place and you leave me hanging…”

He grasped her hand, yanking her down against his cock. “Believe me, sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then why not kiss me?”

“You’re mine tonight.” He shot a pointed glance at the cab driver. “I’m not touching you until we’re alone and no one else can see you. No one else can hear your sighs and moans. They’re all mine.”

She dug her nails into his biceps, her cheeks red. “Then this cab better speed, because I’m not gonna wait much longer.”

He traced the swell of her breasts again. She was right. They were both on the edge.

Luckily, they made it to her place in record time. Mike tossed some cash at the cab driver—could have been a wad of twenties for all he knew—and followed Morgan up the stairs to her apartment. Her ass swayed in front of him as they climbed higher and higher. With each step they took, his lust for her climbed higher and higher, too. By the time they reached her door and she unlocked it, he was boiling over with need.

He entered her apartment, shut the door behind him and scanned the room. Everything was in perfect order. The colorful pillows perfectly arranged. The coffee table painstakingly dusted with an artful arrangement of candles and shells, of all things. He’d expected a messy, cluttered apartment out of her. Not this.

She spun to face him and grabbed the hem of her tank top. Without a word, she ripped it over her head. Her sparkling bra cradled her large breasts to perfection and she ran her hand over her breasts like he’d done earlier. “What do you think?”

“I think I’m ready to fuck you.” He growled and slung her over his shoulder. “Which way to the bedroom?”

“Left,” she said, laughing breathlessly. As she hung there, she fondled his butt and dug her nails into his jeans. Damn, even when she was in a submissive position the girl didn’t give in. “Hurry up!”

He walked into her room and tossed her onto the meticulously made bed. She might be wild and free when it came to sex, but she obviously liked the rest of her life orderly and controlled.

Just like him.