kit and located a foil packet with an antiseptic wipe. When she stood beside him, she leaned over and dabbed the white square to the cut that started on his lip and extended about an inch onto his chin. His spicy scent floated over her, igniting her senses. The stillness in the house created an intimacy she hadn’t felt in a long time. “I feel like I should be doing more to make this right. If I had handled things better with Travis...I should’ve been able to get rid of him. What can I do to make this right?”
His crystal blue gaze darkened. “You could kiss my sore lip and make it all better.”
At first she thought he was joking, but then she looked into his eyes. No mistaking the desire shining there. Blood pounded in her ears. She shouldn’t kiss him. She knew that, but she wanted to. Desperately. She wanted his arms around her. She wanted to pretend he’d protected her because he cared. That he cared about her.
Common sense told her to jump off the couch and run as fast and as far from Colt as possible.
Instead, she leaned forward and touched her lips to his jaw. Then she kissed him lightly on his lips.
Chapter Six
Colt tossed out the “kiss and make it all better” comment expecting Stacy to toss a joke right back at him or put him in his place. His heart nearly stopped when she didn’t do either of those things. Instead her lips covered his, and his body shifted into overdrive.
Her hands clutched his shirt and he wrapped his arms around her tiny frame. Her sweet floral scent floated over him. He felt alive. The need to be closer to her overwhelmed him. He missed having a connection with a woman. Sure he had friends and his brother, but there was something about having a woman in his life. They saw things, they understood on a different level, offered a comfort a man couldn’t find anywhere else. A soft place to fall.
“Better?”
“My lip’s better, but certain other parts ache like crazy.”
He lifted her onto his lap. His hands framed her face as he kissed her. He could lose himself in her so easily. She slipped her hand under his shirt, warm and searching. His breath hitched. Her seeking fingers brushed over one of his scars. “What happened here?”
“I got hurt.”
“No kidding. It’s a scar. Did you get it in Afghanistan?”
He didn’t want to remember how Sanders had been blown apart and pieces of his buddy’s bones had slashed through his chest. To distract both of them, he nibbled on the sensitive skin below her ear. Her groan rippled through him.
“Never mind.” She leaned forward and kissed his puckered flesh. His hands buried in her hair, the silky texture teasing his fingers as heat blasted through him. Unable to bear more of her tender exploration for fear of embarrassing himself, he pulled her face to his.
His lips covered hers again, hungry and almost desperate. Her hands fisted in his shirt as she clung to him. Through a haze, he heard a door creak upstairs, followed by the click of dog nails and the slap of bare feet on the wooden floor. The sexual fog surrounding him evaporated. He lifted Stacy off him and dumped her on the couch. Her hair mussed from his hands, her skin flushed from his touch, her hands shook as she adjusted her blouse. Much longer and her shirt would’ve been on the floor.
How could he have forgotten his daughter and her younger brother slept upstairs? The woman, her intoxicating kisses and her magic hands could make a man forget to breathe.
A minute later Jess stumbled into the living room, her dog Thor trotting behind her. She glanced between him and Stacy.
He was busted. How the hell was he going to get out of this mess?
* * *
S TACY WANTED TO run for the front door the minute she saw Jess, but running would only make her look guiltier. Nothing to do but straighten out her big girl panties, or in this case her twisted blouse, and bluff her way through the situation. That was it. She was an actress. She’d pretend nothing happened.
His crystal blue gaze darkened. “You could kiss my sore lip and make it all better.”
At first she thought he was joking, but then she looked into his eyes. No mistaking the desire shining there. Blood pounded in her ears. She shouldn’t kiss him. She knew that, but she wanted to. Desperately. She wanted his arms around her. She wanted to pretend he’d protected her because he cared. That he cared about her.
Common sense told her to jump off the couch and run as fast and as far from Colt as possible.
Instead, she leaned forward and touched her lips to his jaw. Then she kissed him lightly on his lips.
Chapter Six
Colt tossed out the “kiss and make it all better” comment expecting Stacy to toss a joke right back at him or put him in his place. His heart nearly stopped when she didn’t do either of those things. Instead her lips covered his, and his body shifted into overdrive.
Her hands clutched his shirt and he wrapped his arms around her tiny frame. Her sweet floral scent floated over him. He felt alive. The need to be closer to her overwhelmed him. He missed having a connection with a woman. Sure he had friends and his brother, but there was something about having a woman in his life. They saw things, they understood on a different level, offered a comfort a man couldn’t find anywhere else. A soft place to fall.
“Better?”
“My lip’s better, but certain other parts ache like crazy.”
He lifted her onto his lap. His hands framed her face as he kissed her. He could lose himself in her so easily. She slipped her hand under his shirt, warm and searching. His breath hitched. Her seeking fingers brushed over one of his scars. “What happened here?”
“I got hurt.”
“No kidding. It’s a scar. Did you get it in Afghanistan?”
He didn’t want to remember how Sanders had been blown apart and pieces of his buddy’s bones had slashed through his chest. To distract both of them, he nibbled on the sensitive skin below her ear. Her groan rippled through him.
“Never mind.” She leaned forward and kissed his puckered flesh. His hands buried in her hair, the silky texture teasing his fingers as heat blasted through him. Unable to bear more of her tender exploration for fear of embarrassing himself, he pulled her face to his.
His lips covered hers again, hungry and almost desperate. Her hands fisted in his shirt as she clung to him. Through a haze, he heard a door creak upstairs, followed by the click of dog nails and the slap of bare feet on the wooden floor. The sexual fog surrounding him evaporated. He lifted Stacy off him and dumped her on the couch. Her hair mussed from his hands, her skin flushed from his touch, her hands shook as she adjusted her blouse. Much longer and her shirt would’ve been on the floor.
How could he have forgotten his daughter and her younger brother slept upstairs? The woman, her intoxicating kisses and her magic hands could make a man forget to breathe.
A minute later Jess stumbled into the living room, her dog Thor trotting behind her. She glanced between him and Stacy.
He was busted. How the hell was he going to get out of this mess?
* * *
S TACY WANTED TO run for the front door the minute she saw Jess, but running would only make her look guiltier. Nothing to do but straighten out her big girl panties, or in this case her twisted blouse, and bluff her way through the situation. That was it. She was an actress. She’d pretend nothing happened.
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