I should throw him a glare that would shred through this bullshit, but I can’t help sizing up the woman while Malcolm stalls for time.
Her back is to me, but she’s wearing a short yellow sundress. It’s drenched with rain and clings to her ass and thighs. As she listens to Malcolm, she’s shivering and bouncing up and down on her heels, making every muscle in her bare, toned calves flex. Her thighs aren’t defined by tight muscles, but they look soft and thick—perfect handholds.
“Please tell me you have something,” she says, a shiver raising the tiny hairs on her crossed arms. Her auburn hair is dripping onto the floor around her. Just the thought of peeling every wet layer off her has my cock waking up in my jeans.
Malcolm continues to spew some kind of bullshit while he’s banging away at the keyboard. “Let me see here…”
“Oh God,” she sighs, leaning over the counter to peek at Malcolm’s screen. “I’ll take anything. Even if it’s just for one night. I’m desperate. I’m new to town, and my condo won’t be ready for a couple of days. Well, it was supposed to be ready, but…”
She’s talking fast. I can’t tell if it’s nerves or the cold or what, but the corner of my mouth lifts in amusement.
“New to town?” Malcolm asks, sounding a little too interested. He’s still tapping away at nothing as far as I can see, and I look away from the little mermaid to glare at him. He pretends not to notice.
Well, maybe his distraction is real. As I return to lean against the front counter, I can see that the girl washed in by the storm is pulling out her phone and her wallet from her purse. She’s gorgeous in a way most of the women in my world could never be. Green eyes, full lips, face free of makeup. Her skin is lightly tanned, and her green eyes look up at Malcolm with an innocence, a natural sweetness that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. And yet her body is the opposite of sweet. She was built for fucking. The dress she’s wearing cuts low across her chest, a pair of incredible tits straining against the soaked yellow fabric.
I swallow hard, and my fists clench at Malcolm eyeballing this woman.
“You got a fucking room or not?” I bark out before I can stop myself.
Malcolm pales. “Um, no.” He throws me a nervous look before finally shaking his head. “I’m afraid not,” he says, dragging the words out way too slow for my liking. “We’re fully booked.”
“Oh no. Are you sure?” The woman bites her lower lip, and her full-body shiver sends an electric pulse straight through me. “I stopped at two other motels, but seems like I’m out of luck. Do you know of any place else nearby that might have something? I literally have nowhere to go.”
Her voice cracks, and something breaks open in my chest. She’s out of options. Desperate. Just like Malcolm. But a woman with a killer body in distress brings out a very different reaction in me.
“Let me call a few people I know.” Malcolm reaches behind the counter for a battered-looking cell phone that’s gotta be at least ten years old. I hate technology, and even I have a newer phone than that piece of shit.
I shake my head and face a nearly impossible choice. I can send this girl on her way and get back to my business here. Or this might just be a miracle Malcolm’s shady ass doesn’t deserve.
I point to the woman. “Your luck may have just changed,” I tell her. I turn and gesture to the bike parked in front of the entrance. “I picked a bad night to ride. I was out all day and didn’t plan for the storm to turn so fast. You give me a lift, and I’ll hook you up with a place to stay.”
She searches my face with distrusting green eyes framed by long, dark lashes. Her face immediately falls, and she looks between Malcolm and me, frowning.
“I, uh…I…”
I hold up a hand. “I’m no psycho,” I tell her. “I’ve got a room in a huge place. Storm shutters, generator. Twenty guys live there, and with this weather, we’ll have probably a dozen women crashing, too.”
She bites the corner of her lip even harder, and her full-body shudder reminds me that she’s cold.
“I, uh, couldn’t,” she says, shaking her head. “I couldn’t impose.”
I cross my arms over my chest and look her over. “You wouldn’t be imposing.” I raise one brow and cock my chin toward my bike. “I won’t make it home on that if this gets much worse. You’ll be helping me out of a jam. The least I can do is return the favor.”
She seems to consider this, looking between Malcolm and me. As if sensing his opportunity, Malcolm leans onto the counter.
“This is a good guy here,” he says, a little too quickly. “If he’s offering a place, I’d take him up on it. You new to Florida?”
She swivels her neck again, those green eyes wider now. “Florida, no. But Tampa, yeah. I’ve never actually been in a hurricane before. It’s seriously terrifying.” She looks at me as if she’s not sure which is worse—giving a stranger a ride or being stuck with no place to stay in a tropical storm.
“Shit can get rough real fast,” Malcolm says. He’s trying to be helpful, but I flare my nostrils and glare at him again.
I don’t need any assistance from this asshat. I just need my money. But since that doesn’t seem to be happening tonight…
Just then, the wind picks up and blows a large dead palm frond into the glass doors with such force, all three of us startle. The glass doesn’t break, but the woman’s mouth falls open in surprise. Debris blows past the glass doors—plastic water bottles, papers, and trash—and the items smack against the windows with so much force, it sounds like any one of them could shatter the glass.
The sudden turn in the wind has the woman looking even more nervous. I have to get my bike inside, or I gotta get going. The weather is getting worse, and it’s only gonna keep getting worse before this thing is done.
I stare at the woman, who’s looking terrified. “Probably not safe to be on the road. We should head out. You drop me off,” I tell her. “And if you don’t like the looks of the place, you keep right on going. No harm done. Maybe by then, the rain and wind will ease up and you can hit the road.” I know the weather is gonna get a lot worse before it gets any better.
