Page 54 of Kissing Her Rescuer

Get off that before you break it.

The memory of her mom’s voice was oddly reassuring, considering that her mother had been right. Carrie had broken the other end of the sofa a few weeks ago when she pretended it was her throne. Eliza had uttered the exact same phrase to her daughter only minutes before the loud crack had occurred. It didn't help the sofa was forty years old. At this point, the wood should be petrified, not brittle.

With her dad staying over at Ms. Iris's, Eliza wandered around the empty house, straightening pictures that were already straight. It would be like this all the time in about six weeks. She'd avoided the topic of what would happen with the house. She knew what she wanted to happen.

She wanted to raise her daughter there.

Two feather-lite knocks at the door caused her heart to stumble. The one negative point of living alone. Eliza hated the anxiety. But it was because of Zach’s threats. It was like the Wicked Witch saying, “I’ll get you my pretty,” or some male version of it. But she’d never let him into the house.

She crept to the front door but already recognized Dewey's shadow through the stained-glass center panel. She opened it, relieved to have some company for a couple minutes.

“Hi,” she said, trying to sound perky.

He ran a hand over his hair, looking tired. “Hey. I called a few times, but you didn't pick up.” His lips tilted in a half-smile. “I knew you were by yourself, and I wanted to check in on you and Carrie.”

“My phone's in the kitchen. Is this because of Zach being in town?” She crossed her arms and leaned against the door. She'd expected Zach to cause a scene. The fact Tommy had been the one to kick his ass delighted her for some reason. “He won't hurt me. Not like you think.”

“If he's put bruises on your arms once, he'll do it again.”

She rubbed her arms, remembering that one fight. “I won't let him in.”

“Let me stay here tonight.” His hand cupped her cheek. “Please. Juliana and Grayson are staying with Becky. I came over after we got back from Rhonda’s. Grayson followed Hudson out of town. There's no reason for you to be alone.”

“I don't need a baby sitter.”

“I know. Big, tough Eliza can handle anything.” He kissed her. Not one of his sweet, controlled kisses, but the way she liked. As if he barely remembered to harness his passion before letting it loose. It dominated her, and she fought against begging him to take her upstairs to her bedroom. But that wouldn’t work. Carrie was asleep there.

She ended the kiss and glanced up the stairs. “We can't.”

The front door closed. The deadbolt clicked.

Dewey yanked her to him, spinning around until her back pressed against the wall. His body pinned her there as his lips searched for hers with desperation.

Every inch of her screamed “yes” as he annihilated her previous doubts. Married people had sex with their kids in the house. They could make it work the same way, right?

God, but with Juliana's crap piled on her bed, the only remaining bed in the house was her dad's.

Yuck. Not going there.

Dewey's rough hands slid down the sides of her body until they gripped her butt, picking her up.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, never breaking the kiss that slowly turned her rational thought into soup. If this was his idea of watching out for her, she’d take it.

He leaned away from her long enough to pull her shirt up and over her head, his lips instantly working their way down her throat and across her sensitive collar bone.

“Sofa.” Was that her voice that sounded more like a plea than the demanding sex-goddess she hoped to be?

Apparently, it didn't matter because Dewey complied, his mouth already torturing the edge of skin right above her bra.

Instead of laying her down, he sat, her legs still straddling him.

Her bra disappeared along with his shirt.

As the part of her brain in charge of her sex life finally sputtered to life after eight years of lying dormant, reality set in.

“You better have some protection, Mr. One-Time-Is-All-It-Takes. We've...” She trailed off, realized she almost said, “made this mistake before.”

It hadn't been a mistake.

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