His own anger bubbled to the surface. Couldn’t she understand? He had no patience right now. No capacity for gentle coaxing. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“Yes!” she yelled. “I ran away to get away from all that, but now you’re doing the same thing as everyone else, and I won’t stand for it. Not anymore.”
He dragged his hands through his hair, every foul word he could think of pouring through his mind as he struggled for a calmness that was more and more out his grasp. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Maddie.”
“Ha!” She stomped a foot. “You don’t think I can take it, do you? You think I’m too much of a nice girl for whatever wild kinkiness you dreamed up. Well, I’ve got news for you: I got farther with Jimmy Thompson after sophomore homecoming. I’m pretty sure I can take whatever you dish out.”
Something cold snapped deep inside him. He shot off the bed and gripped her arms far too tightly. She winced, but her expression remained defiant. “You need to run, little girl.”
If she’d had any common sense, she’d back down, but instead she scoffed. “I think you’re all talk and no follow-through.”
He brought her close, so they were nose-to-nose. “I’m going to give you to the count of five to get the hell out of here.” His voice dropped with menace that most people would have the wisdom to retreat from, but her strawberry-stained lips curved into a smile.
“One, two, three, four, five.” The words tumbled out of her mouth as though she couldn’t say them fast enough. Ripe satisfaction flashed in her eyes.
Shocked, he blinked. Everything froze for a fraction of a second as all reason fled and his body took over.
His mouth slammed over hers with a hard, brutal demand that had her squirming in his arms. Heedless of her struggle, he hauled her closer, his tongue invading her mouth. He didn’t ask permission. Didn’t tempt or coax. He took. Demanded. Gave her exactly what she’d been baiting him for and then some. She slithered against him. The heat they generated warmed places inside him that he hadn’t even known were numb with cold.
He released his hold on her arms, sliding one hand around her waist while the other moved to fist her hair, holding her still for his onslaught.
Small hands scratched at his forearms. With no idea if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer, he pressed against her, invading her space, wanting to suck up all that heat. A low moan vibrated against his mouth, and then her fingers curled into his flesh, and she yanked him even closer.
A mad, hot rush of desire flooded his system. She wouldn’t back down. No matter how aggressive, no matter how much he demanded, she’d just keep coming.
Her mouth stroked his. Tongue licking. Dueling. Competing until he was dizzy.
They fought to get closer, their breath hard and fast.
With a firm grip on her hair, he twisted it around his palm until it had to prick with pain.
The retreat didn’t come. All she gave him was an urgent groan before molding to him like a second skin.
He’d planned out his seduction, and this wasn’t it. There was no slow tease. No hot, long kisses. No slow torture until she begged for more. This would only lead one place: raw, uncontained fucking.
He released her hair and gripped the edge of her tank top, breaking the kiss long enough to divest her of the article of clothing. Her bare breasts, soft and yielding, contrasted with the hard plains of his chest. She rubbed against him like a cat, not scared, not timid, or shy.
She was not at all what he’d been prepared for.
Hard nipples scraped along his skin. A hard jolt of electricity shocked his system. He grunted, pulling back to nip at her bottom lip with enough force for her to pull away, but instead she bit back.
On a low growl, he turned them around and tumbled them to the bed. The second she landed on the mattress, he had his hands at her shorts. Her hips lifted so he could slide them down her perfect legs.
He froze, staring at her. Half-naked, she lay sprawled and open. Mouth swollen from his kiss; hair a slash of deep red across his white pillow. Beautiful.
His.
He blinked. Logic and reason crashed down on him: what was he doing?
Lashes fluttered against her flushed cheeks as her eyes opened and looked at him. Her gaze searched, her expression shifted, seeing something he felt sure he wanted to keep hidden. Out of nowhere, panic washed through him, chilling his blood as a cold sweat broke out on his brow.
He looked past her, away from her, as some unnamed emotion made his stomach knot and twist.
Shit. He reared away, moving to the edge of the bed. Dropping his head into his palms, he fought to find his normal composure. But it was a lost cause. Not when the truth was so clear, he’d need to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to see it.
Soft fingers touched his back as she moved behind him. He clenched his jaw, fighting equally powerful urges to lash out and possess. Instead, he didn’t speak, didn’t dare move. He was immobile with an unfamiliar torrent of emotions.
He was an idiot.
All this time, he’d been telling himself he was protecting Maddie, taking it easy on her, taking it slow so she wouldn’t run.
It was all bullshit.
He wasn’t protecting her. He was protecting himself. He was waiting for the control that was always so damn easy for him to kick in, waiting for the distance he always experienced to make Maddie safe for him. But that was never going to happen, because she wasn’t safe, and never would be.
“Mitch.” Her soft voice was a whisper against his skin. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”
What was he supposed to say? That he was too emotional to have sex with her? That he’d thought it’d be fun to show her a good time, but now it wasn’t enough? That after three measly days he didn’t know if he could handle being her five-day fantasy fuck before she went back to Chicago to start her real life?
He laughed, a harsh sound so bitter that he cringed.
No one could know how fast or hard he’d fallen. No one. Least of all Maddie, who didn’t need one more reason to nail herself to the cross.
He needed to get the hell away so he could think without her distracting presence. He took a deep breath before he picked up her hand and pressed it to his lips. “I’m sorry, Maddie.”
“Please,” she said, her tone threaded with worry. “Talk to me.”
He wanted to explain that it wasn’t her, it was him, but he couldn’t utter the cliché-ridden words. He stood up and walked to the bedroom door. “I’ll be back and I promise we’ll talk.”
He didn’t know what he’d say, but he’d figure that out later. Not waiting for an answer, he walked out of the room and down the stairs, and slammed out of the house like the devil chased him.
Chapter Fourteen
Arms wrapped around her knees, Maddie peered into the dark night. A warm breeze blew over her skin as she sat on the front porch, searching the shadows for any clue to where Mitch might have run off to. The shiny, black BMW sat in the driveway, so he hadn’t driven away, but where was he?
Throat tight, she swallowed hard. She didn’t understand what had happened. One second, everything had been hot and passionate, exactly the way she wanted it, and the next, it was like she’d had the plague.
A heavy weight sat on her chest as she blinked back tears. Maybe she just wasn’t cut out for this? Everything had gone crazy the second she’d climbed out the window, and no matter how hard she tried to take control of her destiny, something always got in the way.
She bit the inside of her cheek. Maybe God really was punishing her.
With her mind racing, she tried to determine her next move. She felt lost. Alone. Sad. All her previous bravado sifted through her fingers like grains of sand.
What did she do now?
She stared up into the night sky until the bright stars blurred. No answer was forthcoming, and the mysteries of her life continued to elude her.
Headlights turned into the drive next door and a pickup truck slowly pulled up to the side of the Roberts’ lemon-colored house. The engine shut off and Sam jumped out of the cab. Lips pressed together, Maddie didn’t move, hoping he wouldn’t see her as he walked around to the passenger seat and pulled out a big duffel bag.
He shut the door and went still. His head cocked to the side before he slowly swiveled in her direction. The moon hung low and bright in the sky and his blond hair almost glowed as he caught sight of her.
He waved. “Hey, Maddie.”
“Hi, Sam,” she said, hoping she sounded friendly but not approachable.
He watched her, not making any move to come closer, but not heading in the direction of his house. One hand slid into tight, faded jeans that fit his lean body like a second skin.
Maddie didn’t like the way he studied her one bit.
He took a step, and her heart leapt with hope, only instead of heading toward his house, he came toward her.
Ugh! Not now.
“What’s-a matter? Can’t sleep?” His words were casual, friendly.
She released her hold on her knees and relaxed, putting her hands behind her on the floor of the porch. “Just restless.”
He walked over, dropped the bag at the bottom of the steps, and then climbed to sit down next to her. “You’re one of those overthinkers, aren’t you?”
Maddie stared into the night sky, trying to devise a way to get rid of her uninvited guest. On the surface, he was all harmless charm, open and affable. All lazy, satisfied cat. Yet somehow Maddie didn’t quite buy it.
He sat there for a while, staring up at the stars with her, his elbows propped on his knees. Finally, he sighed. “What happened?”
“What makes you think anything happened?” she said, her tone stiff.
He glanced at the door behind them, then gave her a wide, aw-shucks smile. “Lucky guess.”
She wanted to curl into a protective ball, but she kept her posture open. “Everything’s fine.”
He looked at her, one brow raised.
She cleared her throat. “It is.”
“All right.” His tone was soft, as though he pacified her. “Mitch is down by the river.”
She sat up straight. “River?”
He nodded, pointing to the corner of the house. “Through the backyard, past the trees.”
“How do you know?”
He shrugged. “His car’s here, there’s no lights on inside, seems the logical bet.”
She reached out and touched his arm, a simple brush of her fingers. “Thank you.”
He nodded, then got up and stretched before jogging down the steps. When he reached the bottom, he turned back. “Don’t be too hard on him. He’s out of his element.”
Maddie narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”
He picked up his duffel and gave her a little salute, walking away. “Night, Maddie.”
She called out after him. “How very cryptic of you.”
He laughed and disappeared into the night.
A warm breeze blew against her cheek as she looked in the direction Sam had indicated. The Maddie from a couple of days ago would have retreated, but the new Maddie wanted to face her fate, regardless of consequences. She bounded down the steps, rounded the corner of the house, and walked toward the trees.
The flowing water and millions of stars dotting the sky had done their job, calming Mitch like they had since he was six years old. He sucked in a lungful of humid air, the smell of dank earth and river water reminding him of a time when life wasn’t so damn complicated.
Behind him, a twig cracked, disrupting the gurgle of the water as footsteps rustled over the grass and leaves. Quiet as a mouse, Maddie sat down next to him, scooting onto the blanket he’d picked up from the back porch and laid on the grass. He tensed, waiting for the questions, the demand for explanations. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his elbow, and dropped her head to his shoulder.
His heart skipped a beat. The unsettling niggle that had hovered in the back of his mind since the first night he’d brought her home came into vivid, unavoidable focus: if he wanted her, he’d have to fight for her.
This wasn’t going to be some fun, easy, week-long distraction.
She’d leave a mark.
When was the last time he’d fought for anything? Had he ever? Before he’d crashed and burned, he’d never even broken a sweat. Every opportunity had either been handed to him or had been easy. Sure, he’d had the brains to take advantage of them, but he’d never fought for it. And when the world had come crashing down around him, he had run. Pure and simple.
He looked down at Maddie. All that red hair shimmered in the moonlight as it brushed against his arm. The soft skin of her cheek rested against his biceps, her breath warm as she sighed.
They sat for a long, long time. The lazy trickle of the river’s current, the rustle of leaves in the summer’s breeze, and their breathing were the only sounds. The longer they sat, the calmer he grew, until all his turbulent emotions smoothed over into something peaceful.
Untangling himself from her, he slid an arm around her waist, actively touching her for the first time since she’d shown up. She uttered another of those content sounds that tugged deep inside him.
Human again, he planted a kiss on the top her head. “I’m sorry.” The words were rusty on his tongue, and he realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d uttered them.
“Me too,” she said, far too quickly.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Maddie.” He squeezed her tightly, hating how she took responsibility for everything. “I’m the one who fucked up, not you.”
She shrugged one small shoulder, as though it didn’t really matter. “I should have listened when you said you wanted to be alone.”
“Yeah, well, I can understand why your temper got riled.”
A small laugh bubbled from her. “It was the head pat that pushed me over the edge.”
“Not my best move. I’m sorry I took off the way I did.”
“Don’t be,” she said, her voice soft as the summer breeze. “I don’t know what came over me, but I shouldn’t have invaded your space.”
“I want you in my space, Princess.” Mitch stroked a trail down her spine, loving the slight tremble against his palm. “Wanna stretch out?”
She nodded, and they lay back on the old comforter, their shoulders touching.
He wanted to reach for her, but didn’t.
She laced her fingers over her stomach and looked up at the stars. “It’s beautiful here,” she said, gazing at the heavens above. “I can’t believe all the stars—it’s like the sky is closing in around you.”
“Yeah, it is,” he said, his tone thoughtful as he recalled all the nights he’d spent down by this river when he was younger. “When my sister and I were little, my grandparents used to let us stay up extra late to stargaze.” He searched out a cluster of stars and pointed to it. “There’s Hercules. My grandpa used to tell us the stories of Greek mythology using the constellations as his backdrop.”
He looked down at her, surprised to find her watching him with a curious tilt to her lips. “So that’s why you came here after your troubles.”
His brows drew together. “What?”
She waved her hand in the air in an encompassing gesture. “After you left Chicago. It makes more sense now. Revival’s your home. Your real home.”
“No, it’s not,” he said, the idea so startling, so different from what he believed, he forgot to filter his words. “I came here because this is the only place I could think to escape.”
Her expression turned quizzical. “Didn’t you say your grandfather was old money?”
“Yeah,” he said, failing to see the point.
“And you grew up privileged?”
The muscles in his stomach tightened. “Yeah, so?”
The breeze kicked up, blowing a lock of hair over her cheek, and she brushed it away. “Didn’t you make four hundred dollars an hour?”
He turned back to the sky and studied the stars. “Yes.”
“Well, using my powers of deductive reasoning, I’m assuming you’re not exactly hurting for money.”
She was right. Not only had he made a lot of money he’d never had time to spend, his trust fund was embarrassingly substantial. Still, he didn’t see the relevance. “I don’t see where you’re going with this.”
“You could have gone anywhere you wanted, Mitch.” Her voice was as warm and gentle as the wind, but it chilled him just the same. “You chose here because it was home.”
He shook his head. “I came here because my mom had the house and it was the logical choice.”
“You never mention your life back in Chicago. Your home, your family, or your memories.”
“That’s not true,” he said, irritated at the stubborn defensiveness pumping through his veins and ruining the tranquility he’d only just grasped. “We talked about it last night.”
“Confession’s not the same thing.”
He repressed the sudden urge to lash out and instead said flatly, “You’re wrong.” He didn’t look at her, but he could feel her eyes on his, studying him. Analyzing.
“Okay, I’m wrong.”
What did it matter if she thought Revival was his home? “You are.”
“I’m agreeing.”
Was there amusement in her tone?
He harrumphed and searched out Orion. The defensive irritation poking him in the gut irked him and he wrestled through the desire to start lecturing her on her faulty argument. He clenched his jaw, putting his hands behind his head, shifting his attention to first the Big, then the Little Dipper before blurting, “And even if that’s true, so what?”
She rolled over and propped her head on her open palm. “So nothing.”
“You’re clearly going somewhere.”
“It was an observation.” She spoke in the same tone people used to coax suspicious animals.
He should drop the subject. Logically, he knew his reaction was telling, but he was damned if he had control over that right now. He wasn’t attached to Revival, and he called nowhere home. It was that simple. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Okay,” she said.
He glowered. Surely there’d been no ulterior motive for picking Revival. He had no connection to his family.
He frowned. That hadn’t been the case with his grandparents. The best times of his childhood had been spent in this house.
But why did that matter?
He blew out a deep breath and turned to look at this woman who’d invaded his life and turned everything upside down. With her pale skin almost luminous in the moonlight, she looked so beautiful that she could pass for one of those Greek goddesses his grandpa used to talk about. “You know, before you came along, things were calm.”
She flashed him a brilliant smile. “Yeah, well, before you came along, I almost never barged into strange men’s rooms.” She held up two fingers. “I’ve done it twice now. You’re becoming a bad habit.”
The knot of tension in his sternum loosened. He wrapped a hand around her wrist and tugged until she scooted close enough for him to see the clear, bright color of her eyes. He released his hold and stroked over her jaw. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes as green as yours.”
“They’re a Donovan family trait. All us kids have different hair colors, but we all have our father’s eyes. I’m the only one with my mom’s red hair. My oldest brother is the spitting image of my dad. My mom says it hurts to look at him.” Maddie shook her head, running her fingers through the tangle of her hair.
She looked over his shoulder, staring into the trees. “I hated my mom for that, especially when Shane sacrificed so much for us. She’s always looking past him when she says it, so she never sees the expression on his face, but I do. And it breaks my heart.”
The little bits and pieces of information he knew about Shane Donovan had indicated he’d come from hard beginnings, but they’d been understated. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged, her expression remote. “I should have said something but I never did. I kept quiet, not wanting to make waves.”
From what Mitch could tell, Maddie had been keeping quiet since she’d woken up from that coma. He rolled over to his side and mimicked her posture, propping himself on one elbow. He slid a finger over her jaw and down the tendons of her throat. “I don’t want you to keep quiet with me, Maddie.”
She blinked rapidly, as though repressing tears. “It’s habit now. It’s hard.” She met his gaze, her eyes filling with warmth. “But it’s easier with you. I don’t know why.”
His thumb brushed the pulse beating in her neck. “Maybe it doesn’t matter why.”
“Maybe.”
“Come closer,” he said, his voice deepening.
She bit her lower lip, but slid close enough for him to feel the heat of her body against his. He clasped her neck. He wanted to devour her, but held back, wanting something else even more. Instead of the hard, brutal kiss his body demanded, he brushed his mouth over hers. Nothing more than a fleeting touch. “Upstairs, I left because I was so close to the edge that I would have taken you, regardless of consequences.”