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"He was just trying to help. I met him last night at the party before Heath went crazy."
His jaw tenses as he brings the bowl of water closer to him and starts the process of cleaning me up.
"Where was Thad when you were being chased around by a pervert?" he scoffs, his jealously a little bit bemusing but somewhat exciting.
I bite back a smile as he washes away the dirt from my feet.
"I don't know. I think he had already left. I was there a while. Are you jealous?" I poke, and he stifles an embarrassed grin.
"I'm not crazy about you spending the night in my bed and then finding another guy in your house less than an hour later."
I laugh lightly as he starts towel-drying my feet.
"He was getting his mail when I came barreling down the sidewalk and slammed into him. He offered to help, and considering I have to go to work in a few hours, I decided I should let someone who knew what they were doing help out."
He looks up, his hands burning against the back of my leg as he stares into my eyes.
"Well, you’re in luck. I happen to know a great deal about doctoring up scratches. You shouldn't let strangers into your house."
He looks back down, and I laugh again.
"Um, you realize you're still a stranger?" I muse.
He snickers lightly, and then he shakes his head.
"Yes, but I'm a stranger you can trust. You either don't realize how incredibly gorgeous you are, or you're far too trusting. Twice I've found you in a bad situation with a drunken ass at a party, and then I find some random guy in your house. A girl who looks like you shouldn't be so quick to trust."
I blush fiercely. Hearing his praises makes me start feeling hot in all the wrong places as his touch ignites that stupid, tempting fire I wish would stop blazing.
"I'm a little tougher than you might think."
He presses the alcohol swab against my cut, and I wince while reflexively jerking free from his grip when it burns.
"Yeah, you're superman alright," he sardonically releases after my whimpering reaction to the burning liquid.
"That's different," I huff, my lower lip pouting playfully.
His eyes suddenly shift from scolding concern to lusting desire, making me worry the windows in the house are all going to fog over.
"Please put that weapon away," he says with a wry grin.
"Weapon?" I murmur with a touch of breathlessness while falling prey to his gaze.
He abandons my foot, and jerks me to his body as he kneels between my legs. His lips attack mine as his tongue forces itself into my mouth, demanding my arousal.
He pulls back, his thumb strolling over my lower lip, and then he smirks.
"Yes, that weapon."
Swallowing hard, I pull him by the back of the neck back to my lips. His hand slides up my shirt, finding my breast and forcing a moan from my throat before his forceful touch starts becoming more urgent.
His passion and desire pours into my mouth. My hand slides down to feel his erection through his jeans, making me all the hotter as the firm piece of perfection tries to break free from the fabric.
"Alyssa, you're killing me," he groans against my lips while ripping me up from the couch. "I want you so damn bad."
"Then take me," I breathe, moaning louder when his lips reclaim mine.
My legs wrap around his waist as he starts carrying toward the bedroom. Then suddenly his phone starts buzzing.
