Page 21 of Falling for the Enemy

Six words. He should have listened.

“Since when do you call me Soren?” He set the boot aside with the other.

She arched her spine, rolling her shoulders against the carpet. “Since when do you help me take off my clothes?”

“That’s hardly what I’m doing.”

She lifted her hips. “Pants next?”

“Joce,” he said in warning, but her fingers popped the button of her jeans anyway.

“Soren,” she mocked with equal warning. Then her arm flopped to the side like a dead fish. That was about the extent of her game in that moment. “You have to help me. I’m all pickled and flim-flammy.”

When she started to pull off her jeans, he caught her hands at her hips. “Pants stay on.”

“No,” she whined. “I hate jeans. It’s a sin to wear outside clothes in the house. The body is meant to be free.”

“I think you’re free enough.”

Ignoring his hold, she shoved the jeans down her thighs, but the denim bunched and tangled at her knees. “Help me, damnit.”

Soren sighed and cursed under his breath. “Fine, but you’re going right to bed.”

“Duh.”

He peeled off her jeans and stiffened when she casually spread her thighs open, her sweater bunching at her tapered waist as her belly button and bare hips flashed him.

She might have been totally shitfaced, but she still looked damn hot in those sexy lace panties. Her arms flopped over her head, lifting her sweater to her ribs and fully exposing her lower belly.

She didn’t blame him for staring. She would have even excused a stolen touch, but what he did next had confused her for weeks.

Soren carefully adjusted her sweater to protect her modesty. “Come on.” He pulled her up on wobbly legs and walked her to the stairs. “Which way’s your room?”

“Why? You tryin’ t’get me into bed?”

“Yes. And I’d like to get you there before you vomit.”

She scowled. “Dude, vomiting’s for rookies. Give me a lil credit.”

“Well, you’re not really handling your liquor like a heavyweight right now.”

“I’m—” She hiccupped and pressed a fist to her lips, swallowing back whatever threatened to come up.

“Christ.” He slipped an arm under her knees and lifted her like a child to his chest. Surprisingly, she curled right into him.

The camera upstairs took over as he carried her up the stairs, but they didn’t go to her bedroom. They went into the hall bathroom at the top of the steps, where she ended her puke-free record.

Time lapsed, and Soren reappeared twenty minutes later, only to disappear into her room and reappear with a clean shirt. She crawled out of the bathroom and rolled to her back in the upstairs hall, midway to her bedroom.

“Easy.”

She moaned. “I can’t believe you puked.”

“I didn’t. You did.”

“I know. I was there.” Helping her sit up, he guided a glass of water to her mouth. “Here, drink this.”

She did as he commanded, looking up at him with big, trusting eyes.