Defying the Odds (9 page)

He jumped out of the car and rushed to meet
her,
half afraid she’d slip running like she was because the treading on those sneakers had seen better days. Halfway through the parking lot, all he could do was catch her when Melody jumped at him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her off her feet as she buried her face in the curve of his neck and started sobbing.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, fear and concern causing a sickening wave of dread to settle low in his stomach. “Did something happen? Are you hurt?”

“No,” she rasped, her breathing labored, her voice heavy with tears. “T-truck wouldn’t start.”

Clay heaved a sigh of relief, still holding her tightly against him while her entire body shuddered from the cold. Her teeth were chattering against his throat. Her fingers felt like icicles as she slipped them beneath the back of his jacket and underneath his shirt, obviously seeking the warmth of his skin.

“Come on.” He turned to walk back to his car, still supporting all her weight as her feet dangled off the ground. “We’ll get warmed up, and then we’ll get the truck started.”

All he heard from her was the
click
,
click
,
click
of her teeth chattering, but he didn’t need confirmation. He slid into the driver’s side of his car, still wearing Melody as a necklace. He reached around her, finding the button to automatically push the seat back. When there was enough room for both of them, he pulled Melody fully into the car and slammed the door shut.

Then he sat there with her on his lap, trying to get his breath back, because he was still recovering from the fear something genuinely terrible had happened to her. He stroked her back soothingly while she pushed her hands deeper beneath his jacket and shirt, her cold fingers splaying over the bare skin of his shoulders.

“I thought I was alone,” she finally whispered.

“Nope,” he said, infinitely thankful his apprehension about Jules’s nosiness and low-hit tactics had left him sitting in the parking lot. “You’re not alone.”

“I know.” She finally lifted her head to look at him. Her glasses had fogged up in the heat of the truck, and she pulled them off, tossing them to the passenger seat. “Thank you.”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak as he stared at Melody curled up in his arms, having never seen her without glasses on. It made her look younger, more innocent. He reached over and caressed her cheeks, flushed pink from the cold. The urge to kiss her was overwhelming.

Melody made the decision for both of them as her hands slid from beneath Clay’s shirt to the back of his neck. She tugged him down at the same time she leaned up and pressed her lips against his. The kiss was chaste, soft, and sweet like Melody.

Clay was lost.

It was her scent, flowery shampoo and minty lip balm. It was the feel of her lush body against him. It was the soft sigh of contentment against Clay’s lips. He couldn’t help but pull her tightly against him and kiss her back,
really kiss her
, pushing his tongue past those full lips and owning her mouth.

He hadn’t meant to be quite that aggressive, but Melody responded by clutching at his jacket and parting to his domination, her mouth opening wide to the thrust of his tongue. A low moan reverberated between them and Clay wasn’t even sure whose moan it was. It didn’t matter, because he was literally drowning in the feel of Melody finally in his arms. Their kissing became hot, openmouthed, and needy as quickly as it had once been soft and sweet.

He fell too fast. His brain shut down under the waves of lust pulsing through his bloodstream. His cock was rock hard, eager, and determined despite the two of them being more than a little exposed in the middle of the diner’s well-lit parking lot. He fought the instincts that screamed to push his hands up her skirt and rip at her stockings, searching for something warm and wet to sink his fingers into.

He’d never lost himself this deeply before, and he battled for control, looking for an anchor. Clay forced himself to become aware of the rapid thump of his heartbeat, to notice the rasp of material as they moved against each other. Melody was somehow straddled over him, her fingers in his hair. His UFC cap was gone, probably tossed into the backseat. His hands were underneath her jacket, holding her hips, forcing her tightly against him.

He pulled away from her, because kissing like they were was going to do away with his sanity permanently. He tossed his head back against the headrest as he took a cleansing breath. It did little good because Melody attacked his neck. Her mouth was hot and wet as she nipped and licked and kissed until he was pushing his hips up, his cock straining against the confines of his jeans. He used his hold on her waist to force their lower bodies tightly together, desperately seeking more intimate contact.

“God.”
Melody’s warm breath puffed against the curve of his neck. “I need…I need…” She was panting, sounding as out of her mind and desperate as Clay felt. “I need
you
. Help me.”

“Fuck.” He groaned, his cock hurting, every muscle in his body tight with the need to give Melody exactly what she was begging for. “We can’t.”

“Oh no,” she sobbed. “No
no
no
.”

She didn’t give Clay a chance to respond. She used her hold on his hair to tug his mouth back to hers. This time her kiss was anything but chaste. She claimed his mouth as she moved over him in a way that set off every indulgent sensor Clay had.

If Clay didn’t care for her as deeply as he did, he would have given in to the tidal wave of lust and just fucked her in the car. He’d never been this hard, this starving for the warm, slick feel of a woman.

“Come on, Mel. Take a breath.” He pulled away once more and then reached up to caress the nape of her neck. He tightened his hold just enough to keep her from leaning into him and destroying the last of his self-control. His breathing was rapid and desperate, his voice low and gravelly. “I want this too, okay? I want it more than anything. I’d give up every championship belt I own to be with you, but I don’t
wanna
fuck you in a car. I
wanna
make love to you in a bed.”

“You’ll come home with me?” Melody asked, her chest heaving as she sat straddled over him, trying to get her breath back.

“God, yes,” he said, a broken laugh slipping out of him. “Can’t you feel how fucking hard and desperate I am for you? I’m dying to go home with you. I just
sorta
, I
dunno
… I want this to be special, you know?”

“Yeah.”
She nodded, her green eyes still wild and hungry, but uncertainty spread over her beautiful features. “I want that too, but I don’t really know how to make it special.”

“Well…” Clay considered that, realizing he had the exact same problem. “I suppose we’ll have to try and figure it out, ’cause I don’t rightly know how to make it special either. Usually it’s just
sorta
hot and sweaty and uncomfortable.”

She laughed, a bright smile making her radiant.
“Yeah, that ’bout sums it up.”

“But not this time,” Clay assured her, knowing that one thing if nothing else.

“No,” she agreed, her smile still bright, her dimples carving deep impressions in her rosy cheeks. “Not this time.”

“Would it ruin the moment to admit I really
wanna
get that damn truck of yours fixed before I blow right here?” Clay asked, wincing up at her. “’Cause you’re fucking gorgeous over me, and it’s
sorta
messing with my chivalry.”

Melody reached up, caressing his cheek. “I think it’s sweet.”

“There’s a first.” Clay laughed. “I don’t get called sweet too much.”

“You should. You’re the sweetest guy I know.”

Clay rolled his eyes, refraining from mentioning her taste in men could be considered extremely questionable. Instead he helped her crawl off him as they started the shuffle of pulling themselves together. Clay’s hat was still missing, but he decided to look for it later. Melody nearly crushed her glasses when she sat in the passenger’s seat. Clay pulled his seat up and put the car into drive, forcing himself to stop looking at Melody, because if he stopped long enough to be tempted, they’d never leave this parking lot.

* * * *

Starting the truck was more trying than they’d anticipated, but Clay was motivated and eventually they got it to turn over and start. It felt like a minor miracle when the truck burst to life; the roar of an engine that had seen better days was easily the sweetest sound Melody had heard in a long time.

Clay obviously agreed, because she saw him throw up his hands in triumph. He sat there, gunning the gas for a few minutes before he hopped out of her truck, his breath misty white underneath the headlights. He walked around to the passenger seat and crawled into the car, sitting next to Melody, who’d been pumping the gas pedal while he worked on her truck.

“Okay, you’re
gonna
drive my car back to your place, and I’ll follow you in the truck,” he announced as he pulled the door closed.

Melody frowned. “Why am I
gonna
drive your car?”

“’Cause I don’t trust the truck,” he said, giving her a look. “And it’s fucking cold as hell in that piece of shit. We’re getting the battery replaced
and
the heat fixed tomorrow.”

“Clay—”

“I
ain’t
arguing ’bout it,” Clay said in a gruff voice. “We’re getting it done, and I don’t give a shit if your pride’s smarting over it.”

Melody huffed but kept her mouth shut. She didn’t want to argue with him, not tonight, when she was going to forget every bad thing that ever happened to her and just let this handsome, wonderful man make her feel good.

Her body was humming with yearning and anticipation. She didn’t know why everything seemed to click with Clay when she shouldn’t click with anyone, but she wasn’t going to question good fortune. If whatever compatibility that naturally blossomed between them allowed her to let down her guard and enjoy really being a woman, then she was going to seize the moment before life showed up and ruined it.

He reached out, squeezing her hand in his, his fingers icy. “I’m
gonna
follow you.”

Melody nodded her acceptance and reached down, trying to put the seat up, because Clay was so tall she could barely touch the pedals. She felt underneath the seat, finding nothing helpful. “This car’s too fancy for me.”

“There’s a button.”

“I don’t see
no
button, Clay.”

“It’s there.”

“Why can’t they just put a darn lever like every other car?”

Clay laughed and then leaned over, his large body draping across hers as he reached down to do it for her. He found the magic button easily, and the seat started to move up on its own accord. When she was close enough to the steering wheel, he bent lower over her lap and kissed her thigh through her thick stockings.

Her breath caught as she looked down at him, that one simple action causing a pulse of pleasure to zing through her body. He caressed her bare upper thigh, pushing her apron and skirt higher up, and then lifted his gaze to hers. Her pussy throbbed to the rhythm of her rapid heartbeat, begging for attention, and it must have been obvious. His dark eyes were sultry, telling Melody he knew without feeling that she was wet and aching for him.

Clay licked his lips slowly, the action looking like a promise with his seductive gaze still holding her captive.

Melody actually squirmed in her seat.

“Let’s get outta here.” Clay sat up once more, leaving Melody feeling bereft. “Or I’m
gonna
put my mouth on you right here. I’ve been fantasizing ’bout tasting you since Thanksgiving.”

Melody’s eyebrows rose at his boldness. He just blurted out whatever sexual thoughts came to mind, and she found herself really liking the habit. But she couldn’t help but admit, “I haven’t… I mean, no one’s ever, you know…done that…to me.”

At first Clay’s eyes flashed angrily, as if the admission really pissed him off. But just as quickly his gaze softened, and he reached out to cup her face. “You know what?”

She bit her lip, her cheeks hot. “What?”

“Good.” His thumb swept over her bottom lip, his dark eyes studying her face, making her feel as if all her secrets were laid
bare
to him. “I
wanna
be your first.”