Something Has to Give by Maren Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

unbelievabl y, beautifully fiery and fierce—and in retrospect, laughing at that point probably wasn’t the wisest thing he could have done, but he couldn’t help it. This was unlike any fight with any woman he had ever had. Even the worst marital argument he and Maydeen had endured was nothing compared to this. Those had been a lot of yelling and swearing and name calling, for the most part. Those had been unpleasant. For some reason, this felt invigorating. It felt…fun, though he couldn’t say why and he didn’t know how to explain it apart from the unwilling chuckle that rippled out of him.
    Elsie threw a bucket of milk remnants at him . “Now you’re making fun of me?”
    He managed to slap th e bucket aside, but was immediately pegged by a shower of every plastic drinking glass that she could get her hands on. She made a desperate grab for the knife drawer by the stove, but Quint got there first. More by accident than skill, he latched onto her arm when she quickly dashed the other way. With rattlesnake reflexes, she turned on him, jerking and yanking, kicking and punching in a mad, screaming, swearing bid to get free, and they both fell. He rolled mid-air, hugging her to his chest and trying his best to take the brunt of the impact when they hit the floor. He landed on his back. So did she, although most of her was lying flat on him as well, and she didn’t stop fighting once. Her elbow hit him just right and he lost all the air he might otherwise have laughed with.
    “Hey! Settle down! Enough!”
    She didn’t listen—surprise, surprise—but kicked and thrashed until she had wriggled around far enough in his constricting embrace to grab onto his shoulders with both hands. He saw the intent in her blazing eyes even as she reared up to get as much space between them as she could.
    Quint snapped his legs shut, defensively jerking one up between them so her knee connected harmlessly with his hip.
    His eyes narrowed. So did hers. With deliberate hostility, she let her gaze drop down between them. Despite its near miss of only a moment before, his cock felt her notice like a caress. It swelled, stirring behind the thin white cotton of his underwear.
    With equal coldness, her eyes returned to his. Her mouth twisted into a smirk. “I expected so much more from a big man like you.”
    “It was cold outside,” he said defensively.
    Her smirk only grew. “Whatever makes you feel better, sweetheart.”
    He wasn’t laughing now. “Why, you little—”
    He flung her over, scrambling until he was on top and she was flat on the floor. He grabbed her arm, hooking his around her hips and before she could do more than yell, he flipped her onto her stomach. Already her hands and feet were scrambling to get moving again, but that all ended when he sat on her.
    “Umph!” she grunted.
    He caught her left ankle when she tried to kick him, and the only reason she didn’t land the rubber heel of her right sneaker across his temple was because he pinned her left leg down hard across her right thigh. Every kick thereafter was blocked by her own shin.
    “You are a piece of work,” he panted, holding her down.
    “And you’re a piece of sh—” She broke off with a shriek when he stabbed his hand under her belly and began fumbling with the fastenings of her pants.
    “No!” she bellowed, trying to grind down on his hand, but the pain of being squashed against the linoleum was nothing compared to the satisfaction he felt when he got her jeans open. She threw herself back into another kicking, screami ng fit, but he only pressed down harder across the back of her other thigh and waited for her to exhaust herself. He hooked his free hand in the back of her jeans and made good use of both their awkward positions. Every time her bottom heaved up, he shoved to get her jeans down far enough to bare the seat of his target.
    “You just don’t know when to stop,” he panted, shaking his head in amazement.
    She only screamed