Page 79 of 12 Months of Mayhem

She shook her head. “That guy was a mess.”

“You get a lot of those?”

“Only on the weekends.”

We fell into another quiet stretch, the soft hum of the cooler the only sound. Maddie shifted on her stool and turned to say something, but her foot slipped. She gasped, and before she could hit the ground, I was up and in motion.

I caught her easily, one arm around her back, the other across her waist, and held her tight. We were face to face. Close. Her breath caught. So did mine.

“Well,” she said softly as her hands gripped my arms, “guess you’re good for something.”

“I’m good for a lot of things, mama.”

She bit her lip, and it about did me in.

“I’m going to kiss you,” I said, my voice low and rough.

Her eyes flicked to my mouth. “Then what are you waiting for?”

I closed the space between us and kissed her.

Hot. Heavy. Her hands were in my hair while mine roamed her sides and her back. She melted into me, soft and warm and everything I hadn’t let myself want until now.

I pulled her into my lap as I sat on the stool, and she straddled me like she’d done it a thousand times. Our bodies fit together like puzzle pieces—like she’d always been meant to be right there.

This. This was what I’d been wanting since the first night I saw her walking up to the gas pump—walking up to me. Maddie. In my arms, on my lap, and her mouth on mine like I was the only thing she needed.

And for the first time in a long damn while, I wanted to stay exactly where I was.

Maddie

His lips were warm and demanding and moved against mine like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it. And maybe, just maybe, I’d been waiting too.

The second his mouth found mine, I melted. Everything else—the counter, the store, the cameras, the fact that someone could walk in at any moment—faded into nothing.

I kissed him back like I needed him to breathe. My hands slipped under his jacket, fisting the back of his shirt, and pulled him closer. His hands were everywhere—my waist, my back, and slid up my ribs like he was memorizing every inch of me.

And then I moved—my hips shifted forward without thinking and ground softly against the unmistakable hardness of his dick pressed between us.

He groaned into my mouth, deep and low, and it sent a jolt straight through me.

When we finally pulled back, we were both panting, our foreheads nearly touching. My chest rose and fell like I’d just run a marathon, and Tank… God, his face.

His eyes were heavy with desire, lips parted, and cheeks flushed. He looked at me like I was the only thing in the world he wanted. Like I was already his.

“What if someone walks in?” I whispered, and tried to catch my breath.

“Then they’ll get a show, mama,” he said with a crooked grin.

I laughed, breathless. “I don’t want to stop,” I admitted. “But I’m not into sharing.”

The second I whispered, “My office,” and looked him in the eye, something shifted. He didn’t need more than that.

He moved.

In one smooth motion, he stood and held me in his arms like I weighed nothing. I gasped and held onto him, arms around his shoulders, and my legs clutched around his waist as he stalked through the store toward the back.

My heart thudded wildly.

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