My fingers shook on the steering wheel.

Oh God.

What had I just done?

My thighs were still wet from him, for goodness sake. He wanted more. Wanted me to what? Go home with him?

It didn’t make sense.

None of this made sense.

I tried to push Max to the back of my mind. I couldn’t handle any more of him in my head right now. Even if he was literally clinging to my skin in every sense of the word. From his scent to his shirt and to the ridiculous level of connection I’d never felt with another soul.

I slammed my hands on the wheel at a red light. “Get it together,” I said to the dark car.

I had far more important things to worry about. Like the fact that I’d been mugged.

Mugged.

I couldn’t even wrap my mind around it at the time. And now... Now I was just mad.

Everything was in my purse. With the hours I worked, I had to be prepared for anything and now I had nothing.

Except three amazing orgasms.

I swiped my hand over my face. Yeah, that did not get my credit cards cancelled and a new phone. My budget was pretty fluid thanks to a lifetime of being frugal, but spending money on another phone was going to suck. Especially since my credit cards would take a few days to fix.

A car honked behind me and I stepped on the gas. I had to pay attention. It was late—after midnight.

Really? Had it only been a little over an hour?

My whole world had gone from exhausted and dragging, to the kick of adrenaline with a mugging, to...Max.

My...well, everything still throbbed in sensory memory. And from the invasion. Because he’d taken complete control of me. Even when I’d tried to assert myself, it has been just for a moment.

And I’d loved it.

God, what was wrong with me?

I pulled into my driveway and didn’t even remember the drive. Dangerous on a whole different level. Autopilot in the middle of the night was often how I got myself home, that wasn’t the issue.

I’d thought of nothing but him the entire time. That was the part that I didn’t want to face.

I parked and locked my doors when I normally wouldn’t have. This was a safe neighborhood. I’d grown complacent as a woman, as a member of society. My life was the restaurant and home. I didn’t go out much simply because I was too tired to make the effort.

The dangers of a big city were everywhere and I hadn’t paid attention to my surroundings. I’d become a victim.

What had happened after was beyond definition.

I rushed up the walk and into my house, locking the doors. Part of me wanted to turn every light on in my house. To banish every shadow, but I wasn’t going to be ruled by fear.

I was naked without my bag, my phone—my things.

For fuck’s sake, I was practically naked in my vestibule. I wore Max’s shirt and he’d cut my panties off me.

Literally.

Cut them off me.

He’d ripped my pantyhose to get to me.

He’d wanted me that bad.

I sagged against my door. Nothing made sense. I didn’t inspire that kind of reaction from anyone, let alone one of the richest men in the state.

I was officially living in Oppositelandia.

With shaking fingers, I opened his shirt and stripped it off, leaving it by the door. I didn’t want him on me. I didn’t want his scent sticking to me right now. I took the stairs at a run and stripped out of my skirt and the threads of what was left of my nylons.

I turned the water to scalding and stepped under it in the dark. I pressed my hands to the cool tile. The abrasions stung from my trip to the ground from the mugger then Max’s orders to face the cement support beam. I tipped my face up to the spray and the first wave of tears hit me.

Too much.

Today had been too much. I crouched down in the shower and let the hot water run to warm before I stood and quickly washed before my hot water tank emptied. I was sore between my legs in ways I didn’t want to examine.

I wrapped myself in a huge towel and curled up on the center of my bed. The moonlight left slats of silver across my unmade sheets. Part of me wanted to just close my eyes and let the rest of the day fall away. Now that the adrenaline was gone, my limbs felt like lead and all I wanted to do was sleep.

But I didn’t.

I sat up and dragged my laptop off the hassock next to my bed. I turned on the light and opened up my computer to find all the numbers to call.

By the time I’d finished, it was heading for three in the morning. I was lucky because I didn’t have to work the early shift the next day, but now with a list in my head, sleep was elusive.

I forced myself to turn off the lights and close my computer. To lay in the dark and relax.

I’d changed out of my damp towel into my favorite nightshirt between credit card company phone call seven and eight. I should have been able to sleep, dammit. Exhaustion wasn’t even the word for what I was.

But my nipples were sore under the soft cotton and my center felt abused and sated in a way that didn’t make sense. I literally felt like a tornado had lifted me, shook me like a ragdoll, and dropped me back down to the ground.

With orgasms included.

I slipped my hand into the wide collar of my shirt and hissed at my still sensitive breast. My nipple hardened immediately as if it was looking for more of Max’s mouth and rough touch. I cupped myself gently and tugged at the tight tip.

The moan that slipped out of my mouth surprised me. As a woman who was alone more often than in a relationship, I knew how to satisfy myself. The ultimate insomnia cure was something I was very familiar with.

But I shouldn’t need it tonight.

Not after what I’d done. What we’d done.

Tell that to my body. Because there was an ache sitting low inside of me that left me restless and hurting. With my other hand, I slid down over my nightshirt to the hem and lifted it. I coasted over my thighs, then the curve of my mound to my stomach. With both hands under my shirt, I plucked at my nipples.

Each pass was pain and pleasure. Something I’d never associated with the other. Yes, I liked a more abrupt touch sometimes—what woman didn’t when she was in the moment? Truly in the moment.

But this... This was different.

Max had drawn on my skin until my nipples were an angry raspberry color, and he’d tasted my pussy as if it was something akin to champagne. If I looked in a mirror, I was fairly sure I’d find faint bruises from his touch.

That was a tattoo I’d live with for as long as it lasted.

God, yes. Especially if it resulted in this feeling.

My right hand strayed lower, over my ribs, and down the curve of my belly to the swollen lips that still hadn’t quite recovered from him.

I dipped two fingers through my folds to the silky wetness that was already readying me for Max. He wasn’t there. He probably wouldn’t ever be inside me again, but the memory was etched in my mind.

Hell, I’d have to get a bigger toy to remind myself of the perfect fullness he’d provided. My eyes fluttered closed and I remembered his flicking tongue over my clit. I couldn’t mimic that, but the memory was bright enough that my body took any contact and gave only pleasure in return.

I tugged at my nipple as my hand moved faster, my fingers raced to give me the friction I needed. My hips lifted off the bed and the cry in the night was hoarse with pleasure and a plaintive groan that still left me wanting.

I curled around my hand and closed my legs, lifting my knees up to my chest...anything to get that final tightness and friction. As the orgasm crashed into me, consciousness lost and sleep took me under.

When I came around again, daylight infused my room. I groaned because I definitely hadn’t moved in the night. My entire body was stiff and I felt hungover. I fumbled around my bedside and groaned. No phone.

I pushed my hair out of my eyes. No clock in my bedroom because everything—and I do mean everything—was in my purse. Even the watch I rarely wore.

I pulled a pillow over my face. Maybe I’d just call in pathetic. It was a thing. I certainly felt like I’d gone twelve rounds with Holyfield. Pathetic had to be enough to warrant a day off.

The TV remote had to be somewhere in my bed. I fell asleep with it almost every night. Eventually, I was going to have the buttons permanently indented in my hip.

I made a wide arc with my arm and found it halfway down. I hit the power button and winced when I heard the talk show host that was on.

Not good.

I sat up and pressed info and sure enough, it was almost two in the afternoon.

Dammit. No time to find someone to cover for me.

I dragged my sorry ass out of bed and into the bathroom. Twinges from my sprawl on cement and...other things made my usual quick morning rituals a little lengthier.

And because the idea of one of my form-fitting dresses made me whine—out loud, because I was pitiful—I went for a soft sundress and cardigan sweater.

Screw primping.

I had to make time for makeup because I looked like an extra on the Walking Dead even with ten hours of sleep under my belt. A little bronzer hid a multitude of sins.

I didn’t have anything to put in a purse, but I grabbed a small Vera Bradley that could hold my checkbook for a visit to the bank. I’d need cash to get a new cell.

Just kill me. I so didn’t want to deal with that circle of hell today.

I definitely should’ve called in.

After an uneventful drive into the city and a frustrating trip into the bank, I came out with a few hundred dollars and a shiny new debit card. Lucky for me that the mugger had gone for my tips and hadn’t gotten to use my plastic.

With my brain buzzing from the business manager’s list of things to watch for, I didn’t have time to stop for a phone. I made it to the parking garage with ten minutes to spare.

My hands shook a little as I parked. I looked for a spot under lights and close to the exits. Old self-defense class checklists bubbled in my head. If we had a mugger in the area, we’d have to go back to the buddy system for closings. We never should have stopped, but I would talk to Angel about having a staff meeting. I didn’t want the attention and people asking me a zillion times if I was okay, but I had to keep my coworkers safe.

I threaded my keys through my fingers and held my thumb on the panic button as I rushed through the garage. My heart slammed and I couldn’t hear a damn thing. Just blood rushing in my head as residual fear crawled up my spine. I didn’t actually breathe until I was halfway across the street.

Bellamy’s was doing a brisk business as usual. I’d never been so happy to see people waiting to get inside. I wouldn’t have time to think about my attacker or Max Chapel.

Thank God.

I walked through the brass and glass door and Chelsea rushed to me, dragging me through the small group of people to the kitchen.

“I’ve been trying to text you all morning.”

“Yeah, about that.” And it begins.

“What the hell is going on? Mr. Chapel was here as soon as the doors opened.”

“Which one?”

Her huge blue eyes gave me an incredulous glare. “Max, of course.”

I sighed. “Well, there are four of them.”

“Yeah, but Max is the only one that comes in on the reg. Seriously, girl. What the hell happened last night?”

“I need to talk to Angel first.”

“Oh, you’ll be talking to him. Max lit into him already.”

My heart sank. “What?”

“I couldn’t hear what he’d said, but we’ve been buzzing about it all day.”

What the hell? Why would he come to talk to my boss?

“Georgia!” I spun around at Angel’s voice. He stood in the doorway to his office. “A word please.”

“Oh, man. You never get the voice. Ever.” Chelsea gripped her sweater. “You are going to tell me everything.”

Oh hell no. Not everything. “I’ll be back.”

“Good luck.”

I smoothed a hand down my dress and straightened my sweater. I was going to lock my purse in my locker but Angel was still holding the doorknob on the inside of his office.

Not good.

He dragged me in for a bear hug and I squeaked. “Angel.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

I patted his back awkwardly. We were a family here at Bellamy’s and Angel had hugged me plenty of times, but not like this. His caramel scent hit me. Mr. Sweet Tooth as we called him. Always a caramel in his mouth or in his coffee. “You heard?”

He let me go. “Yes. Max Chapel came in here and ripped me a new asshole.”

I winced. “Really?”

“He demanded to know why the women weren’t escorted to their cars at the end of the night. Dammit, George, you know better.”

Wow. He must be really worried to bring out my rarely used nickname. “How many times have I walked to my car without incident?”

“Yeah, well it stops today. You could have been seriously hurt.”

“I know.” I held up my hands. “I know, Angel. I was lucky he just wanted my purse. Mr. Chapel happened to hear me scream and came running.”

“Did you file a police report?”

Good God, no. I had not been thinking about the cops at the time. In fact, I’d been performing a misdemeanor all on my own.

Kill me.

“It was late and I was shaken up. I just wanted to go home.” Not really a lie. Sort of. I had been shaken up. And then I’d lost my panties.

In fact, I still didn’t have them. Had I left them there on the cement? I tipped my head back. Oh, God.

“I can’t believe you came to work.”

“I woke up too late to find someone to cover for me.”

He shook his head. “You are a wonder, George.”

“We’ve had this conversation. I’m not a George.”

Angel curled his arm around my neck and dragged me back in for a half hug. “I’m just glad you’re okay. We’re going to have an afternoon meeting about this. I wish I hadn’t had to hear it from Max freaking Chapel, but I want my people safe.”

“I was coming in to talk to you at the very least.”

“We can handle things today. Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”

Now that I was out of the house, the idea of spending all day doing nothing was just too much. Not that I didn’t have tons of errands to do. Oh, man. DMV too. Could this get any worse? “I’m here. Let me see how it goes.”

He sighed. “You’re as bad as I am.”

“Worse.”

He snorted. “True that.” His celadon eyes bore into mine. “You go home if you need to.”

“I promise I will. I’m a little sore—” I broke off as his face leached of color. “I’m fine. He just knocked me down.” Stop talking. My boss was going to have a stroke. “Look, if it gets too bad I’ll take off. Promise.”

“Good.” He bussed my cheek, his perpetual stubble scraping my skin. Angel was an athletic guy with shoulders for days and a jawline that made women weep.

Well, except me. We’d grown up together in the restaurant. Angel had taken over for his father, Edgar—even if his father didn’t quite know what the word retired meant. We worked well together, but there’d never been a romantic moment between us.

We knew too many of each other’s dirty secrets. Like I knew that Angel was still in love with his high school girlfriend even though he’d been twice married—and neither of his wives had been Emma Wesley.

He knew that I was married to my job. And that I had the hots for Max but would never act on it.

At least that had been my stance until yesterday.

What a freaking clusterfuck.

“Do not overdo it today, kiddo.”

“You can’t call me kiddo. You’re the same age as me, dammit.”

“Get out of my office, George.”

“Ugh, stop with the George.” I laughed and he knew I would be all right. The worry trapped in the cute crinkles beside his eyes had eased.

We would be fine.

I wound my way around the rest of the staff that was coming in for the lunch rush. With Chapel Enterprises across from us, and the handful of local businesses on the same block, we did a brisk lunch business.

This was what I needed.

To be useful.

To be able to put Max into my rearview.

For the next three hours, the lunch rush—and the regulars who loved me—made the day fly by. If my gaze strayed to the door one too many times, I quickly corrected myself.

Max was a busy man. He’d already been in to tell Angel about the incident. We were having a staff meeting about it between the lunch and dinner crush.

I was the one who had pushed him away.

I shouldn’t be the one looking for him.

Ugh. Beyond insanity. I bounced between tables on the patio and back into the main dining area. Small talk, inquiries about families, polite chitchat—that was my specialty.

It fueled another hour before Angel hooked an arm through mine and scooted me to the back. “That’s enough. I see the bruises under your eyes and the stiffness in your shoulders. Time to go.”

“Well, thank you, Angel. Just what I wanted to hear—that I look like crap.”

“You do.”

“Excellent.”

Angel’s light green eyes twinkled. “It’s not the exhaustion that shows, it’s your missing sparkle. Go home. Get some rest. Find your sparkle.”

“I do not sparkle.”

“Oh, but you do.” He laughed. “Right now, you have fire for eyeballs.”

“You’re an ass.”

“Yes, but I’m the ass who owns this joint. Out. Time to go.”

I sighed. Namely because he was right. Not about the sparkle—what the hell did that mean? But I was crashing. Hard.

I patted my pocket for my phone and groaned. No phone. At least if I got out now then I could stop at the phone store and handle that crappy task before the rest of the world got out of work.

“All right. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Of course you will. Now go.”

I curled my fingers around his wide wrist—well, as much as I could. Angel was a big guy and the closet-sized office only made him seem bigger. “Thanks.”

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah.”

I went up on my toes and brushed a kiss over his cheek. “You’re a good guy, Angel.”

“Don’t let that get around.”

I laughed because it was what we both needed. I moved back out into the bar area and waved to Dean as he tied his apron around his hips and ducked under the end access point.

Chelsea flew across the room to me. “Where the heck were you? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Angel just dragged me into his office to tell me to go home.”

“Oh.” She tucked a hank of strawberry blond curls over her ear. “Huh. Well, that explains a little of what just happened.”

“I’m tired and have a headache brewing. Can we skip the part where I ask all the scintillating questions and just get the story?”

Chelsea dragged me into an impulsive hug. “Sorry. Max was here. But he just rushed out.”

“He was?” My heart skipped a beat. I wasn’t sure I was ready to see Max. In all honesty, I wasn’t sure I had the wherewithal to handle Max right now. I was already shaky and nothing made sense. He needed to go back into his client slot and... Well, I was still thinking about other slots that had nothing to do with the restaurant and all about how he fit inside me.

“Yes,” she hissed. “He went to the back of the restaurant looking for you then stormed out. You don’t think he’s still mad about your attack? He was really steamed when he came in here this morning.”

“I can’t think about that. I’m so done with that parking garage and last night. My friggin’ brain is going to explode. In fact, I’m going home now.” My hands shook enough that I tucked them into the pockets of my cardigan. Chelsea didn’t know the shakes were from what we’d done in the parking garage, not my mugging.

“Good. You need to go home.”

“I need to go get a new phone. My purse had everything in it.”

“Oh, man.”

“Yeah. I could just scream with how many hours I spent on the phone last night canceling cards. Now, the stupid phone store. Just ugh.”

She twisted her watch. “If you go now, you’ll miss the nine-to-fivers.”

“Yeah. My thoughts exactly.”

“We’ve got this. We’ll see you tomorrow night.”

My shoulders sagged. “Thanks.”

I walked to the back of the restaurant and sighed at the two bags of trash from the bar that were sitting on the end. “Dean—” I broke off because he had three suited guys in front of him. “Never mind,” I muttered. I grabbed my purse from my locker and picked them up. It was just as easy to go out the alleyway to the parking garage.

I ducked out the emergency door and punched in a code to deactivate the alarm. When I heard the beep after me, I hustled to the dumpster and swung the bags in.

The sun was blinding and the swallows that constantly looked for our leftover bread were squawking. “Sorry guys. Nothing on me today.”

I lifted my arm to block the glaring sun. One more thing to buy—sunglasses. I turned away from the birds and screamed.

A man stood in the middle of the alley, all broad shoulders in a business suit. The same shoulders that spent way too many hours in my fantasies.

He was in silhouette because of the sun, but I definitely knew that impeccable style of hair and regal bearing.

I slapped my hand over my rampaging heart. “Jesus, Max. What are you doing?”

“I came to check on you.” His Italian shoes crunched on the gravel-strewn alleyway.

No one was out there with us and my heart was still roaring between my ears. “Then why did you leave?”

“Because I saw you were otherwise engaged.”

I frowned. “When?”

He moved forward. His speed made me stumble back against the brick building. He slapped his hand on the wall above my head. “When you were in Bellamy’s office.” His dark eyes gleamed so close to my face. He leaned down. “It seemed that I wasn’t really necessary. He had it under control.”

“What?”

“Oh, don’t be so fucking naive.”

My eyebrows shot up. “What the hell does that mean? I was with my boss.”

“I don’t have a single person on my payroll who kisses me.”

I drove my hands into his chest to push him back, but he didn’t budge. “Are you kidding me?”

“I saw the way he was looking at you.”

“You’re delusional. Angel and I grew up together, for God’s sake. We started at the restaurant together at seventeen. He’s practically my brother.”

“Not from how I saw it.”

“Were you peeping in the door like a freaking creeper? What the hell, Max? Not to mention if I was banging my boss, what business is it of yours?”

“It is my business when I had my cock buried so deep inside you couldn’t stop crying out my name less than twelve hours ago.” He tugged me away from the wall and spun me around and kicked out my feet.

My breath caught and my belly quivered. “Max,” I whispered.

Memories of last night and the new explosion of excitement ramped up my heart rate. My panties were instantly soaked. He jerked me back against his hard length as he scraped his short nails up from my knee to my outer thigh. No hose, no stockings, nothing but a scrap of cotton to stop him.

And that wasn’t going to stop him.

I wasn’t going to stop him.

My clit throbbed in time with my heartbeat. The zipper of his pants and the clink of his buckle made me breathe faster.

“Do you remember this? Is your heart jackhammering like it was last night?”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.

He shoved his fingers down into my panties. “I had this last night. And I want it again.”

It was only supposed to be one night. Just a reckless moment. Last night was rough, but there’d been finesse to his touch. Control and a smoothness that was missing today.

Missing from the equation of what we were.

But I didn’t miss it.

I liked this Max.

And in the darker recesses of myself, I realized that I liked that I could ramp up a man like him. What did that say about me?

He tucked two fingers into me and lifted me onto my toes. “Wet. For me. Not for him.”

“No.”

“Wet for me.”

I dragged in a shaky breath. “Wet for you. For this.”

He thrummed over my clit with two fingers slick from me. He dragged my hand up the wall and pressed my palm to the rough brick and flattened his over mine. So big. So much bigger than me in so many ways.

The thrill of it fired through my bloodstream. Asphalt heated through the only part of my shoe that was still connected with the ground. I was on my tiptoes and my dress was hiked up.

I didn’t know what he was going to do.

Anyone could come outside. Hell, not could—would. People sneaked out here for breaks all the time. They would catch us.

Catch me.

My thighs quaked. My breath stalled. I didn’t care.

I just wanted this feeling. I wanted this drug.

I wanted Max.

He stopped circling my clit and pressed down on it instead. His fingers not inside me, and not out either. Just there. Intent and awareness ramping me up—teasing me.

Fucking Max.

His lips brushed my ear. “Me inside you. This is what you want, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t hear you.”

“Yes,” I growled.

“What do you want?”

I wanted his fingers—no, I wanted his cock. I wanted him to fill me up again. I still hadn’t recovered from the first time and I wanted it again. Now.

All of him, right now.

He opened his fingers so they were on either side of my clit, squeezing it ever so gently then releasing—again and again. “What do you want?”

“You.”

“What part of me?”

I rolled my hips along the opened placket of his pants. I could feel him. The tight boxers he wore that kept the line of his suit and made me insane to touch. I remembered his spectacular girth from last night. I wanted my hand around him again.

I reached back and palmed his balls, resting the inside of my wrist along his rigid shaft. “You know which part.”