Page 55 of Not Mine to Rescue

“Wicked?”

“I forgot to bring you dinner.”

“That’s not wicked.”

It wasn’t. But the after-dinner what and where I may or may not have fantasized about several times certainly was. “I’m sorry we didn’t celebrate your freedom.”

His expression shifted. My gaze snagged on the way his lips moved. And then on the tip of his tongue as it touched the bottom lip, leaving a glistening trail of unrealized kisses in its wake.

The pause hung in the frosty air.

He broke it with a question. “Do you want to go or stay?”

Stay, please. That was my pussy talking. “I owe you dinner.”

“I’m not dressed for dinner.”

“What about dinner at my house?”

“What’s the dress code there?”

The temptation... “Naked,” I whispered.

His voice deepened. “I like that dress code.”

“Follow me?”

The nod started slowly. “...To the ends of the earth.”

Why did that send a tingle down my spine? “Let me get Molly situated, and we’ll...?” I pointed toward the highway.

“Yes.” His blue eyes flashed with hunger.

I was doing this.

The more I repeated it to myself, the more it felt right. I was doing this. Damn the fear, damn the potential ruining of my reputation, and damn Jim and Denise with their perfect little family. I wanted this.

As I drove home, I kept checking my rear view to make sure Wombat didn’t lose me. That’s how much I wanted this.

Sure, it was embarrassing and kind of taboo—at least for me. But we’d already proven compatible once. And that was the deciding factor as I directed him to park in the guest space designated for my townhouse and navigated my car into the garage. He met me beside the car as I unclipped Molly.

I pressed the remote for the big door, and unlocked my house.

Before I got it open, he pulled me close. “Kiss me.”

The rumbling of the door stopped, and there was silence. No one but our dogs could see us. And they wouldn’t judge.

“Honor?”

This was huge. Bigger than a fling, more momentous than a few hours of insanity. This was a choice. I could still walk away and⁠—

Who was I kidding? Myself, that’s who. I needed this.

I leaned in and matched his lips to mine. My body melted against his. The contact felt right. It was exactly where I wanted to be and⁠—

“Open your door. Let’s get the dogs settled.”

Ah, the voice of sanity. Wombat was right. It was cold in the garage and much warmer inside the house. The ache between my thighs wouldn’t overrule me this time.