Read Online Commitment by Margaret Ethridge - Free Book Online Page A

“Yeah?”
    She blinked. Her fingernails scraped lightly along his jaw. “I swore I’d never sleep with you.”
    The words hit him like a splash of ice water. He’d never forced his attentions on a woman. Hell, he’d never even had to coax one. Much. Stunned, he pulled back and met her gaze. “Did you say Damen and Division?”
    “Not that it was ever an issue before,” she went on as if she hadn’t heard him.
    Flopping back against the seat, he pushed his hand through his hair. “Maggie, listen—”
    “No, I get it. I’m not your type, and frankly, you aren’t mine either.”
    His blood pounded in his ears. “I’m not?”
    “I mean…no offense, but I’ve never been into the guys who are into themselves.”
    A laugh escaped before he could corral it. The chuckle burned like acid on his tongue. “Okay, I’ll try not to be offended by that.” He tossed her purse into her lap and rapped on the cloudy partition, startling the driver from his Armenian Idol audition rehearsal. “Change of plans. Two stops. Drop the lady at Division and Damen first.”
    Maggie slid to the far side of the cab, eying him warily as he tugged on his suit jacket then straightened his tie. “You have to admit, you have a bit of a reputation.”
    “Oh, I’ll even admit I earned it,” he grumbled, turning his glare on the passing traffic. “The hard way.”
    “So dirty,” she murmured.
    Click…click…click. Again with the clasp on the purse. The damn thing would be worn out before they even made it out of the Loop. If he didn’t toss it out of the cab first. He glanced over and saw her gnawing that luscious bottom lip. A surge of anger and envy bubbled up inside him. “I’m not gonna jump you,” he growled.
    Her eyes grew round as saucers. “I didn’t think you would.”
    “No?”
    “I don’t think you’re a complete asshole, Tom.”
    Her tone made him want to prove her wrong, but he sucked it up. “You mean I only made partial asshole status? What do I have to do to up my score?”
    She shot him a dark look. “You’re getting there now.”
    “You know what, Maggie? You’re right. I’m an arrogant, self-absorbed, asshole misogynist suffering from a terminal case of Peter Pan Syndrome.”
    “Wow. Someone beat me to the punch.”
    “Many, many people have beaten you to the punch.” He stopped to give his scotch-addled brain a moment to catch up with his mouth. “You know what? It doesn’t really matter.” He blew out a tired sigh, propped his elbow on the door, and rested his head against the heel of his hand.
    Maggie snorted. “Is it really that easy for you? That’s it? You move on to the next contestant?”
    “No means no, Maggie. A guy doesn’t need a G.E.D . to learn that lesson.”
    “I didn’t say no,” she pointed out, turning to face him.
    “Well, hell, I don’t want you breaking promises to yourself over me. I think we both know I’m not worth it,” he said snidely.
    She clammed up and turned her attention to the buildings and businesses whizzing past her window. Eastern European pop drifted through the speaker holes in the partition, saving them from total silence. Tom rubbed his forehead and wished he could switch it off.
    “Fuck it,” she muttered.
    His head swiveled. She turned back to him and he blinked, still trying to ascertain if he heard her correctly. “What?”
    “I said fuck it,” she enunciated.
    He couldn’t stifle his laugh. Snow White just dropped the f-bomb in the back of a smelly gypsy cab. He had to laugh, and his laughter sent her eyebrows winging for her hairline. Tom tried to muffle his mirth, but she was just so damn incongruous with her neat twist of auburn hair and evening bag clutched primly in her lap.
    She stared at him, those green cat’s eyes light with a mischievous glow that should have warned him. “Fuck me.”
    Those full lips deliberately formed both syllables and his laughter croaked in his throat. His mouth went dry. He had to remind himself