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“Well, aren’t you an asshole, just like everyone else in this wretched town. I’ll have you know I was doing just fine taking care of myself until the big he-man jumped in my way.” She was exasperated, ready to throw a tantrum.
“To save your life in case you’ve forgotten.” Holding her close had been like grasping a stick of dynamite in my hand. The instant attraction was unusual if not disturbing. I’d caught a whiff of strawberry I’d thought was the scent of her shampoo, but I’d realized the fragrance was from whatever she’d used on her lips. Which were naturally rosy. I’d fought the urge to crush my mouth over hers to find out if the taste was just as tantalizing.
“Bullshit,” she huffed, raking her fingers through her long blonde hair. Suddenly, my mind went to several filthy places, which was totally inappropriate.
They all involved shackling her to my bed. I squinted from the sun, trying to pull my mind out of the gutter.
“Way to go,” a bystander said from behind me.
“You’re a regular hero,” some lady chirped, although her tone was as caustic as the girl standing in front of me.
“Give the guy a medal.” The third comment brought a smirk to the mysterious girl’s face.
Grimacing, I glanced toward her wrecked vehicle. The heap of junk had definitely seen better days, but the accident had likely totaled it. When I pulled out my phone, she wrapped her hand around my wrist and a bolt of electricity slammed into my system.
“Who are you calling?” Her eyes opened wide in acknowledgement of the current tearing through both of us. When she jerked her hand away, fisting her fingers, it was all I could do not to smile.
“The police, to report the accident.”
“There’s no time. I need to go after the scumbag.” She pulled away, trying to shove her way around me. I stopped her cold, grabbing her wrist as she’d done with mine.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
As I took a step closer, she sucked in her breath. “Maybe that’s what you need in your life, someone to control you.” When she opened her mouth to issue what I knew would be a nasty retort, I pointed to her car. “It’s not drivable. Two tires are blown, the axle and the frame likely bent.”
She slowly turned her head with a ragged moan. “Oh, shit. I need my car. God, this week sucks donkey turds.”
At least the girl still had a sense of humor. “After we deal with the police, I’ll give you a ride to your home. I know a body shop. My buddy will have your vehicle towed there.”
“First of all,” she snapped, jerking her arm away. “I don’t know you. You could be a serial killer or rapist in cahoots with the crazy driver. Second, I don’t need anyone’s help. And third…”
“Yes?” I crowded her space, ignoring the honks that blasted all around us. “You were saying?”
Her face flushed and she looked down, but not before I noticed her bottom lip was quivering. With her breathing still ragged, I was drawn to her taut nipples poking through the thin tee shirt she was wearing. I wanted to wrap my lips around one, pulling the tender flesh between my teeth. Jesus Christ. She was half my age. What was I doing thinking about sex at a time like this?
“Like I said. You could be a monster for all I know.”
“While the jury is still out on whether or not I’m a monster, if I’d wanted you hurt, why bother saving your life?”
She chewed on her inner cheek, debating my answer. “What do I do about the dude who hit my car?”
I continued the call. “Don’t worry, princess. I managed to get his license plate number. I also happen to know the chief of police.” I turned away from her, dialing the number, Manuel Gonzalez answering on the first ring.
“Hey, buddy,” he answered. “How’ve you been?”
“No too bad, my man. I haven’t seen you at the club lately.”
“Work. I’m chained to my desk. An upturn in cartel shipments. It’s keeping me busy, but I’ll make a point to drop by. I need some TLC bad. What can I do for you?”
“I have a situation with an accident I witnessed, the son of a bitch driver taking off.”
Manuel laughed. We went back to the first days after I’d opened the club. He wasn’t chief of police then, just an officer told to keep an eye on the kinky club. Somehow, we’d become friends after a half dozen arguments. “Let me guess. Mr. Eagle Eyes got his license plate?”
“I did.” As I relayed the number, I watched her pacing near her car. Then I noticed the Montana plates. She was a long way from home. My body remained tense, a heavy dose of adrenaline still trickling through my veins but only partially from my impulsive reactions. Shit. The girl was stunning, her cornflower blue eyes and blonde hair accentuated by a voluptuous body. It was the kind a man could sink his teeth into.
Or his cock.
