Page 7 of Lizzie Blake's Best Mistake

Calm spread through her limbs, her muscles focused on Rake’s reassuring weight, her mind centered on the feel of his mouth against hers, the gentle scratch of his stubble. Lizzie twined her hands through his hair, pulling him closer, feasting on the soft groan he made.

But then, he pulled back.

Why was he pulling back?

Rake’s hands dropped from her body, and he flattened hispalms on the wall behind her, one on either side of her shoulders. He arched his head back and blinked up at the sky, sucking in a breath. Lizzie watched the movements of his throat as he swallowed.

“Why’d you stop?” she asked, snaking her hands around his trim waist. Touching another person was a decadent luxury, and Lizzie was the embodiment of greed.

He looked down at her, his eyebrows pinching together as he searched her face. “Because a guy just laid his hands on you in a bar, and it seems shitty to feel you up right after.” His voice was gruff. Lizzie wanted to feel the way it would vibrate against her thighs.

“I’m fine,” she said, trying to tug his mouth back to hers. He didn’t budge, just continued to study her. Lizzie blinked away. He was looking too closely, searching for something that wasn’t there.

“Take me home with you,” she said, dragging her fingers down the front of his shirt, enjoying the small vibration of the fabric scratching against her nails, the subtle shiver of his body under her hands. She looped her fingers in the waistband of his pants, pulling his hips closer to hers. “Use another one of your cheesy pickup lines, and take me home with you.”

She knew she had him when he laughed.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Lizzie leaned in and pressed a kiss to his jawline before lightly biting the spot. “Sex is always a good idea.”

He stared at her for another long second before he shook his head and grabbed her hand.

“You should write holiday cards,” he said, pulling her away from the wall and guiding her down the street.

Chapter 4

RAKE took a deep breath, trying to rationalize what was happening as he shoved his keycard into the lock and opened the door to his hotel room. He must have lost his mind somewhere between Lizzie’s barstool and the corner block where she’d kissed him. It was the only explanation for the bizarre, light-headed feeling he’d had since they first started talking. He’d sworn off women—he’d stuck with it too—but something about this one’s wide smile and booming laugh muddled his brain.

He pushed open the door and Lizzie waltzed in, flipping off her sandals and walking farther into the place like she’d been there a million times. He stared at the discarded shoes and was simultaneously unnerved and warmed at the foreign sight of someone else’s things flung next to the precise line of his lonely shoes.

Lizzie let out a low whistle, spinning around as she took in the suite. “Hot damn, do you always stay in such nice places?” she asked, pulling her hair from the bun on the top of her head. Rake watched the red waves tumble free and cascade down her shoulders, the ends skimming just below the swells of her breasts.

“Work tends to set us up in nice places, I guess,” he said,watching as she pushed her fingers through it, making the strands dance like flames licking at her body, glints of orange and gold sparking in the mass of her hair.

He was transfixed. And in desperate need of a good fuck if he was this turned on by her hair alone. It’d been almost two years, he reasoned. He deserved to bend his rules a bit.

He’d done so well at avoiding women and sex—avoiding any demonstrations of human intimacy, really—that he hadn’t seen Lizzie coming. But the second he’d caught her looking at him, his mind had focused in on her, the single thought ofwant, want, wantthrobbing through him.

He might have been able to push away the urge, come up with an excuse for his coworkers, and head for his hotel alone, but seeing those assholes harassing her filled him with such a primal, protective instinct, he knew he couldn’t leave without her.

It didn’t help that he actually seemed to like the odd little stranger. Lizzie made him laugh easily, and laughing wasn’t something he’d done in a long time.

But now that he had her here, he wasn’t really sure what to do with her. And he was mildly flipping out.

Lizzie, on the other hand, couldn’t seem more at ease.

“Are you going to offer me a drink?” she asked, moving toward the small kitchenette in the corner of the suite and peeking into the fridge.

“Water’s, uh, the best I can do,” Rake said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. She smiled at him over her shoulder.

“Aw, really? I was hoping we could split the lo mein,” she said, stepping to the side, revealing the stark fridge and the one sad carton of Chinese takeout that Rake had picked at last night while he sat alone in his hotel room, the city noises and his own self-loathing keeping him company.

Rake forced out a laugh, but awkwardness settled heavily on his shoulders. This was a bad idea. He shouldn’t have broughther here. He definitely shouldn’t sleep with her. He’d worked hard to cut out destructive pleasures like this.

Lizzie poked through the cupboards, grabbing a glass and filling it at the tap, humming as she did it. She padded toward him, holding it out.

“Want some?”