Mira Lyn Kelly

Never Stay Past Midnight


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you’re a gigo—”

      “Elise, I’m begging you. Stop.” Desperation ran thick through his words. “Just close your mouth before you say another word.” Before she ground the last bit of his masculine pride into the hardwood beneath her little bare foot.

      She was a verbal train wreck. How could he want her like this?

      It was physical. As she’d said in the park.

      That crazy, bendy body had gotten under his skin, was all. It couldn’t be the twists and turns of her mind getting him so tied up in knots. Half the time it was as if they were speaking different languages. And the other half … hell.

      But even with the way her mouth ran when she got nervous, he wanted another night. A whole night. He wanted her to stop spewing ego-shriveling assumptions and get her head back in sync with his.

      Her mouth popped open again, making his gut clench. “You should just take the twenty—”

      Enough! He’d crossed to her before her next breath, preempting the completion of her thought by catching her around the shoulders and surprising a sharp “Eep!” from her.

      “Damn it, it’s not the money, Elise.” Looking down into those smoked-glass eyes, he searched for that same heat that had been there the first night. Found only confusion. How was he blowing this so badly? “It’s just … hell, it’s just you. You’re different. I don’t know what it is. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since last week. And seeing you yesterday—” His jaw clenched. “It was all I could do to walk out of here, but I did because I’m just as wrong for you as I was that first night. I’ve already got one foot out of Illinois, the other one ready to go. I don’t have anything real to offer you. And whether you want one right now or not, you’re still a real relationship kind of girl.”

      He should have left it at that. Said goodbye and gone. Only his hands were already on her, his thumbs brushing over the bare skin of her upper arms, and he knew he wasn’t going anywhere. “Aren’t you?”

      She stared up at him—pupils dark and wide, an erratic flutter at the hollow of her neck—leaning in with each shallow breath. Her gaze dropped to his mouth and the pink tip of her tongue wet her bottom lip.

      His heart kicked hard as that connection between them began to untangle. Smooth and pull taut.

      Her eyes slid closed. Her next pull of breath drawing him in with it—bringing him closer to those bare naked lips. Parted, ready for him to take—

      “I’m seeing someone.”

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