pain. He wanted this woman badly. Wanted her under him, pinned, at his mercy. But once he got her there, hurting her wasn’t what would drive him. No, he wanted to smash through those damn prickly walls of hers and break her open. Wanted her sweating and clawing and screaming with pleasure, as animalistic in her passion as he—
“Seriously, Eric. Why are you doing this?” Her voice was tight, vibrating with tension as it cut into his thoughts. “It doesn’t make any sense. You don’t even know me.”
He wanted to argue, to tell her how wrong she was. They might be strangers, and she might not be one of those women who loved to gush about themselves, but he was learning more about her with each second that went by. More about himself, too.
But she was right about it not making any sense. Thankfully, a Travelodge sign appeared up on the left, and while it wasn’t the Ritz, at least Eric knew she’d be safe there.
The second he pulled into the crowded lot and parked the truck, she reached for the door, but he latched on to her arm, curling his fingers around the soft swell of her biceps. He was careful not to hurt her, but kept his grip tight enough that she couldn’t break away. Before she could lash out at him with that wicked tongue of hers, he said, “I’m getting you a room.”
She drew in a deep breath, as if searching for patience, and he tried like hell to ignore the way the sharp movement pressed her nipples against her shirt. Tried...but didn’t exactly succeed, since it was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“No, you’re not.” She glared at him as if he was something slimy that had crawled out of the drain. “You’re not getting me anything. Do you understand?”
“Damn it, Chelsea. This isn’t the time to be stubborn. Pride isn’t going to keep you safe. It’s going to get you hurt. I get that you hate to accept help from anyone, especially a man, but just let me get you a room and we’ll chalk it up to an even trade for the fact that I kicked you off the damn mountain in the first place.”
“We already did that with the ride to town. And the work being done on my bus.”
“And this is just another part of what I owe you. Not the other way around. I swear.”
She wasn’t buying it, but he could feel the starch go out of her as she leaned back against the seat. Her breath soughed softly past her lips, their smooth surface glossy and pink and undeniably tempting. There was a danger there, the same way you weren’t meant to stare too long at the sun. A beautiful view, but one you paid for with pain. Somehow, he managed to force himself to lift his gaze back to the dark, stormy blue of her eyes, and for a moment he wondered if she was actually going to say thank-you.
But, really, he should have known better.
“You know, Eric, it’s high-handed, arrogant jerks like you who give your sex a bad name.”
“Whatever. Just wait here,” he grated, choking back his own anger as he climbed out of the truck. Christ, she had to be the most mule-headed woman on the planet!
A chime dinged as Eric jerked open one of the double doors at the entrance to the hotel, and a young guy behind the registration desk looked up from the comic book he was reading. “What’s up?” he asked, staring at Eric from behind a pair of thick reading glasses.
“I need a room, just for tonight.”
The transaction took longer than he would have liked, considering the guy moved as slow as molasses. Eric signed for the room with an impatient scrawl and grabbed up the card key, heading back out to the truck as quickly as possible, his breath jerking from his lungs with a sharp burst of relief when he spotted her through the passenger-side window. He’d half expected her to make a run for it—and was thankful she wasn’t that impulsive. Or maybe she just wasn’t done chewing him out yet.
Opening her door, he offered his hand, which she refused, glaring at it like it was some kind of insult. Instead, she
Marina Dyachenko, Sergey Dyachenko