“Um…yeah,” I mumbled. “I checked before I got up.”
“Mm,” he murmured in my ear causing another, stronger trill to go up my spine. So strong, my body trembled with it. I got another arm squeeze then Mitch’s arms went away but not a second later his hands were at my hips. I felt his heat leave my back but only so he could turn me then his heat was at my front and his arms wrapped around me again, one low at my back, one high at my shoulder blades.
I looked into the depths of his soulful eyes and instantly got lost.
“You should have woke me,” he whispered, his face so close I felt his words on my lips.
“Why?” I whispered back, still lost in his eyes (and his heat and his strong arms wrapped around me).
“Because you left me in bed with a six year old,” he replied, this was said softly, gently and not with any accusation.
“So?”
“Baby, she isn’t my kid.”
“She likes you.”
“She still isn’t my kid. You there, it’s cool. Me alone in bed with Billie, not so much.”
Crap.
Okay, there it was. I was a dork thinking they looked like a poster. I’d screwed up, as usual, and made Mitch feel uncomfortable.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
His arms tightened, the one at my shoulder blades shifted up and his fingers sifted into my ponytail.
“It’s okay,” he whispered back and I was sliding back into getting lost in his eyes even though his lids were lowering at the same time his head was lowering and his lips were a breath away from mine.
“Mitch,” I called but my lips moved against his lips. Then my lips couldn’t move at all because his lips were on mine. His hand was cupping the back of my head to tilt it to one side, his slanted the other way and his tongue traced the crease of my lips until those lips opened and his tongue swept inside.
Oh God.
There it was again.
Oh God!
He tasted good, he felt good and he kissed great.
My hands slid up his back and my fingers dug in at his lats as he kissed me and, he tasted so good, I kissed him right back.
Finally, Mitch’s lips left mine, trailed down my cheek to my ear where he growled just as his arms squeezed, “Christ, I love your mouth.”
There I was again, pressed tight to Mitch, breathing hard, wrapped in his arms.
How did this keep happening?
“Mitch –” I started.
His head came up, his eyes locked on mine and he interrupted me, “When’s your next day off?”
I blinked. “What?”
His arm low at my h*ps tightened further. “Your next day off, sweetheart.”
“Um…today,” I answered.
He grinned then said softly, “I know, honey. When’s your next day off?”
“Uh…Friday.”
“Thursday night, we’re gettin’ a babysitter.”
I blinked at his intimate words, words said by a Dad to a Mom, a husband to a wife, more words I liked and repeated, “What?”
“A babysitter.”
“Why?”
“’Cause Thursday night I’m takin’ you out. I’m feedin’ you. I’m gettin’ you intoxicated. Then I’m bringin’ you home and then I’m doin’ other things to you. Things I’m gonna keep doin’ that’ll take me deep into Friday and I don’t want the kids interrupting me while I do them.”
My toes curled, my knees wobbled and my ni**les started tingling.
Oh boy.
I struggled to find my way back to Mara World which was safer and far more sane and started, “I don’t –”
I stopped speaking when I heard the door to the hall bathroom open. Billy was out of the shower.
Mitch’s head went back another two inches and turned slightly before he murmured, “Kids interrupting.”
My hands moved so they were pressed against his chest, not a good thing to do as all my fingers encountered on their journey was warm, hard, sleek skin.
I powered through this and started, “Mitch –”
At that moment there was a knock on the door.
Mitch’s head turned the other way, my gaze followed his and we both stared at the front door.
“Who could that be?” I whispered.
“No clue,” Mitch replied, not in a whisper, let me go, my hands flew back so my palms could press against the counter to hold myself up and I watched Mitch move to the door.
He looked through the peephole and then I watched him drop his head, shake it, his neck twisted and his eyes hit me. I saw they were amused at the same time a little annoyed. Then he turned back to the door, pulled off the chain, twisted the lock and opened it.
“You couldn’t help yourself, could you?” he asked whoever was outside the door and his voice was the same mixture of amused and a little annoyed.
“My brother doesn’t call me at nine o’clock at night to discuss the care of a fevered child…as in never…so you’re right. I couldn’t help myself.” A female’s voice came at me and then I saw Mitch move back as I saw a woman with Mitch’s dark hair cut in an attractive style that brushed her shoulders, natural waves flowing through it. She was tall, like Mitch, though not as tall as Mitch. And she was built, not like Mitch. She was all tits and ass and obvious attitude.
She was followed by an older version of her who could be no one but Mitch’s mother.
And I was right. She wore twinsets.
With scarves.
Attractive ones.
Oh…dear…God!
“Hi there, you must be Mara,” Mrs. Lawson called when she saw me. “I’m Mitch’s Mom, Sue Ellen.”
My brain took that unfortunate moment to remind me I was wearing a nightie and Mitch’s shirt and Mitch was wearing nothing but a pair of drawstring pajama bottoms. This collided with the thought that I was at Mitch’s house early in the morning wearing nothing but a nightie, panties and Mitch’s shirt and Mitch was in nothing but pajama bottoms and what the woman who told me she was Mrs. Lawson and the woman who was obviously Mitch’s sister Penny would think of this.
“Hey,” I replied before I could start hyperventilating.
Mitch’s sister started walking toward the bar and her smiling eyes moved to me. “I’m Penny, Mitch’s sister,” she introduced herself casually like it was perfectly okay to perpetrate an early morning surprise attack on your hot brother’s neighbor. Even if that neighbor was staying with your hot brother while she was having one in a long line of crises into which she’d sucked your hot brother.