Take a Chance on Me

Chapter Twenty-Four



The following evening, Mitch sat in his back office at the bar, contemplating the chaos of his life. Maddie’s words had struck a chord last night, and now he couldn’t stop thinking about them. Was she right?

Before he’d lost his respectability, he’d been tearing up the partner track, defending rich, oily a*sholes more guilty than innocent. He hadn’t cared about screwing anyone over, hadn’t thought twice about sleeping with another man’s wife. Was it really a stretch to assume he’d have followed in his father’s footsteps?

The truth rocked his foundation.

Late last night, after Maddie had fallen asleep, he’d realized something. This whole time, some part of him had secretly pined for his old life. He hadn’t put down roots here in Revival because deep down he’d believed he didn’t belong. He belonged back in Chicago, living a life he’d someday reclaim.

But that was a lie. He didn’t want to go back. The man he’d been was a distant memory belonging to someone else, not him.

In the quiet peace of his farmhouse, he’d finally shrugged off the past and allowed himself to wonder whether his future was as black and white as he’d thought. It was time he did some good in the world instead of sitting on his ass in a bar he hated, living off his trust fund.

It was time to man up.

A soft knock sounded, and Mitch pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Come in.”

Maddie walked into the dreary, rundown room like a ray of sunshine, beaming a megawatt smile.

“I hope you don’t mind me stopping by.” She carried a box he recognized and put it on the desk in front of him.

He stared at the white cardboard box containing all of the pertinent details of Luke’s case. “What’s that doing here?”

With her cheeks flushed and her eyes a bit glassy, she didn’t say anything. She’d been at home when he’d left for the bar, and as far as he knew she hadn’t been hitting the margaritas again.

He raised one brow in a question.

Her pink tongue darted out to wet her full lower lip and his cock stirred. One finger traced the line of the box as she walked around the desk. Her hips were a seductive sway in a little white flip skirt he’d never seen before. It matched the short-sleeved button-down that managed to look both innocent and drop-dead sexy in a combination only Maddie could pull off.

Her green eyes gleamed with something predatory.

Suddenly, the urge to flip her over the desk and take her swept over him so strongly and powerfully that his hand twitched on the pen he’d been absently holding.

He pushed back from his desk and gave her a slow, thorough once-over. “You look like a woman with something on her mind.”

“Oh, I am,” she purred, in a voice he’d never heard before.

“And what would that be?”

The only answer he received was a slow smile filled with such lascivious promise that his cock went from stirring to rock hard. She stopped between him and the desk, standing before him with her legs slightly splayed, looking like a warrior princess despite her petite stature. She picked up both of his wrists and put them on the arms of his chair, her fine-boned fingers looking small and fragile against his skin.

The need to take control of the situation spiked hard and furious, racing through his blood and making his heart kick up a notch, but he reined it in. He was too curious about what she intended to put an end to her game.

She leaned over, not touching him except for her hold on his arms, and licked at his bottom lip. The simple touch was like a lightning bolt straight to his balls, and he curled his fingers around the edge of the chair arms to keep from throwing her onto his desk. She traced the seam of his lips with her tongue. Then, slowly and confidently, she melded her mouth over his. A low groan escaped when her tongue slipped inside to caress his.


It was like no kiss he’d ever experienced before. Slow. Deep. Almost dreamlike. She weaved a spell around him until he forgot everything but the drugging sensation of her mouth.

That was, until a cold metal cuff clicked onto his wrist.

He jerked back, tugging, only to find that she’d somehow managed to lock the other end to the chair. “What the hell?”

She straightened, looking oh so pleased. “Now I’ve got you right where I want you.”

He made a grab for her, but she jumped back, sliding onto the desk and out of his grasp. Although he could reach her, he wasn’t able straighten enough to get a good hold on her. He said in his most deadly voice, “I hope you have the key, little girl.”

She batted her lashes, slipped a hand into her bra, and extracted a key. “I’ve got it right here.”

What was she up to? He narrowed his eyes. “You know, once I get free, I’m going to turn you over this desk and paddle that ass until you can’t sit for a week.”

“Sounds like quite a punishment,” she said, not sounding scared at all.

The little vixen.

Despite his position, he wanted her like wildfire and his cock pressed insistently against the zipper of his jeans. “What are you planning?”

“I thought we could play a little game.” She ran her hands up her legs, stopping at the hem of her skirt. “You know, I’m not wearing any panties.”

He stifled a groan. “I don’t believe you.”

She laughed and flipped the edge of the skirt up, flashing bare skin before smoothing the hem back down. There was no trace of the shy, guilt-ridden woman he’d met in his bar that first night.

He levered up off the chair, only to sit back down when the whole chair jerked with him. These were no play cuffs. “Where’d you get these?”

“Charlie lent them to me. He had a spare set.”

“I’m going to kill him,” he said darkly. Was that why she’d gone to see him?

“He mentioned that.” She reached for the buttons on her top and slowly popped each one, exposing her flesh, inch by torturous inch. “I want something.”

“Anything,” he answered.

“Anything?” Her tone was so sly the hair rose on the nape of his neck. She pulled forward the cardboard box. “I want you to take Luke’s case.”

So that’s what this was about? He met her gaze. “I’m not going to take it.” Not until he had his life straightened out.

She parted the draping fabric of her blouse and traced a path over the white lace of her bra. “Are you sure?”

He stared transfixed at her breasts spilling over the demi cups, but managed to croak out, “Yes.”

With trembling fingers, she ran her hands along the edge of her bra before stroking over silk-covered nipples.

He ground his teeth and kept quiet.

She circled the hard peaks over and over, her breath catching. “Why?”

“Because despite his troubles, he’s a good kid and deserves a lawyer who’s not on the verge of getting disbarred.”

“Mary Beth thinks you’re perfect.” She played with the front clasp of the bra, running one finger up and down until he wanted to rip it off her. But he couldn’t, because she’d cuffed him to a f*cking chair.

“Plenty of qualified attorneys can handle it.”

“Sam told me you’re the one.”

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. He could not believe this. “What, is he your psychic advisor now?”

“I was informed he doesn’t care for that word.” Her fingers played over the swells of her breasts, taunting him.

Though dangerous and edgy, he managed to keep his voice controlled. “I’ll find Luke someone and pay for it. Will that make you happy?”

The clasp popped. “No. That will not make me happy.”

“It will have to do.”

“We’ll see about that.” She peeled the cups off her breasts and rested her hands on the desk. Pink-tipped nipples begged for his mouth. “I asked Tommy and Mary Beth about the case.”

That confirmed his suspicions about her trip to the garage.

She thrust her chest out, arching her back. “You’re acting like he’s up for murder, not teenage delinquency. I think you can handle it before any concrete action would even be taken against you.”

She was probably right. Not that he’d tell her. She didn’t understand. He didn’t want to get a taste of the law again only to have it ripped away. “I don’t want to take the chance.”

“On him, or on yourself?”

Before he could retort with something scathing, she straightened and ran her thumbs over her nipples.

His argument fragmented. He remembered their first night together, when she’d been so hesitant to touch herself.

There was no hesitation now.

He had to get out of these cuffs. Using the only weapon he had available, he started to talk. “You’ll need a lot more pressure to get yourself off, Princess.”

“You don’t think I know how to give myself an orgasm?” she shot back, still playing gently over her nipples.

“I hadn’t realized you needed to since I came along.”

“I haven’t.” She licked her lips. “But I still know how.”

“You might know how to give yourself a nice come, but you need the bite of a little pain to really get you going.” His gaze flicked to her breasts. “Pinch them for me.”

Her lids drifted closed, and she squeezed the hard buds between her thumbs and forefingers, head tilting.

Jesus Christ. His cock pulsed, and his breathing increased as he watched her. “That’s it. Harder.”

She followed instructions well, moaning as she increased the pressure of her hold.

He growled low in his throat like some feral beast. “Don’t stop, but reach down and flip up your skirt.”

She raised her head and gave him a smile so carnal that he wondered if it was possible to rip off the arms of the chair and get free. Her hands fell away from her breasts to once again rest on the desk. “I will, as soon as you agree to finish the case.”

Stunned, all he could do was blink at her.

She sucked in a breath. “I’m prepared to do this all night.”

“Are you sexually blackmailing me?”

She laughed, a low husky sound from deep in her throat. “What was your first clue, Counselor?”

Hazy lust clouded her green eyes, but so did conviction. Perseverance. The quiet fortitude had only gained in strength since the night she’d cried her heart out down by the river.

“It’s against my better judgment,” he said, through clenched teeth.

She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t care about that right now. I just want you to agree.” She slid one hand up her skirt, making sure to keep herself hidden. She was a damn tease. Her head fell back as she stroked, keeping what he wanted out of sight. He knew what all that smooth flesh felt like.

Hot. Wet. Silky smooth.

Her chest rose and fell in an increasingly rapid rhythm, and he gripped the arms of the chair so tightly that he was surprised the wood didn’t shatter. “When I get out of this, I’m going to bend you over that desk.”

“Yes, I want it,” she said.

“Then let me go.”

Her skirt fell farther up her thighs, giving him a glimpse of her fingers circling over her *. The whole room was permeated with sex and desire.

“If you keep going that fast you’re going to come.” Her hips lifted and the white fabric fell away, no longer obstructing his view. “Jesus, Maddie. Open your legs wider.”


She complied, one hand behind her as she braced herself on the desk.

“Slip those fingers inside.”

“Tell me you’ll take the case.” Her voice took on a needy, desperate quality. If he were inside her, he’d either go harder or stop, depending on his mood and hers.

He needed inside. Now.

“Please, Mitch.”

“Fine,” he said harshly.

Fingers slipped into her core. “Do you promise?”

“Yes.” He needed to feel the way her tight muscles clenched around his cock, milking him. “Take off the cuffs.”

She moved fast, grabbing the key and sliding off the desk as though she was scared he’d change his mind. She fumbled as she tried to work the key into the lock, telling him how nervous she’d been.

He waited with the stillness of a predator, knowing not to jump and scare his prey. The second he was free, he grabbed her wrists, twisting them behind her back and catching them both in one hand. “You are in so much trouble.”

She trembled, her nipples peaking at his words. “I don’t care. It was worth it.”

He took her mouth, a hard, brutal melding. She rocked into him, helpless to do anything but squirm against his onslaught.

With his free hand, he pinched her nipple, pulling and squeezing as he rolled the hard tip. He dragged his mouth away, roaming down her neck, licking over the pulse pounding at her throat, scraping his teeth over her sensitive flesh.

And then he broke.

He couldn’t stand it one more second. He released her hands, whipped her around, and pushed her flat over the desk. He flipped her skirt over her hips and smacked her naked ass. Once. Twice. Three times.

Color bloomed pink over the round cheeks. She let out a scream that had to permeate the paper-thin walls. He kicked her legs apart and reached between her legs.

Soaking wet, his fingers glided over her. He rubbed her * until she moaned and thrust her hips back. He snapped his fingers over the flesh, and she let out another strangled cry. “Oh, God, yes.”

Jesus, she was made for him.

She bucked under his touch. “Again, please do that again.”

“Some punishment this is turning out to be.” He delivered a series of rapid beats as she went wild under him. At the first swell of her orgasm under his fingers, he backed off.

Unzipping his pants, he freed his aching cock, bent at the knees, and drove hard and high inside her.

She clutched at the desk, nails scraping along the worn wood as her red hair fanned out over her back. “Mitch, please.”

He gripped her hips and impaled his cock so deep that he kissed the tip of her womb.

There was a knock at the door.

“Go. Away.” He gritted out, not missing a stroke, closing his eyes as her muscles rippled down his length.

“Mitch, you need to come out here.” It was Sam. Under him, Maddie stiffened, but he paid no mind, pulling out and slamming into her again. Her hips rocked back.

“Mitch,” Sam said again. “It’s important.”

“Go away,” Mitch yelled back. Whatever it was could wait.

The door rattled as though coming off its hinges as someone’s fists slammed against the wood. “Maddie Donovan, open this f*cking door.”

Mitch froze at the unfamiliar voice.

Maddie went shell-shock still, squeaking, “Oh no.”

More pounding and banging. “I’m giving you thirty seconds, and then this sucker is coming down.”

Mitch pulled out, leaving the hot, wet heaven of her body. “Someone you know?”

With flushed cheeks, her expression had turned from lustful to horrified in a fraction of a second. “It’s my brother.”