SHELTER

Chapter 22

She opened the door from the garage to the house and immediately heard the television down the hall. She turned toward the soft light of the room and the man she knew she'd find relaxed on the couch.

"Hey babe how'd it go?" He called out before she reached the end of the hall.

"Rough." She answered as she entered and approached him while stripping off her coat and boots.

He'd been stretched out on the couch and made to sit up but she pushed him back down and simply pushed him deeper into the couch so she could wiggle in beside him. With a huff she laid her head on his chest and relaxed.

His arms encircled her and held her close. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Did she?

"It was fine until the end. Then he wanted to start firing off the why questions." She ran her cold hand up under his shirt and smiled at his sharply indrawn breath. She knew her hands were freezing, his chest was the fastest and most pleasant way of warming them. "Why here? Why you? Why now? Why why, why?"

"Did he get his answers?" He trapped her hand with his own and held it in place. The sandwich of his skin and the soft cotton was comforting.

"The best that I could give, but they just made him angrier. He acted like I was accusing him of failing me or not being enough or something." She could feel his warm breath on the crown of her head. "For every reason I gave about why you got through to me, he had to take that as a judgement against him."

"That's his problem, not yours." He squeezed her hand. "So what were some of these glowing reviews of me?"

She chuckled. It was apparent he was trying to lighten her mood. "Fishing for compliments?"

"Yes. I have low self esteem." She raised her head and saw him grinning at her with those breathtaking eyes.

She slipped her hand from underneath his and slapped him playfully. She shifted herself so that her arms were folded on his chest and her eyes were level with his. "I told him you were patient, and kind. That you didn't demand anything of me, or look at me like I was some thing. Something volatile be observed."

"You do have really big eyes, but my momma taught me not to stare. It's rude." He caught her hands as she made to attack him. Warren hauled her in close and claimed her lips.

He bit her lower lip gently. She opened up for him and his tongue took its opportunity. The kiss took on a life of its own. His fingers tangled in her hair. She nudged further up his body for a better angle. Warren's hands traced down her body assessing all the new territory he had access to with her new reposition.

His finger tips traced a path up her sides and under her shirt.

A soft sigh escaped her. She broke their kiss and leaned back on her haunches. His hands traced up her thighs and held her hips as he watched her strip off her teal, long sleeve shirt.

Warrens eyes were free to take in her creamy lith figure and black lace bra. His eager hands launched into their exploration as she re-established the union of their lips. Every square inch of her smooth, soft skin was like a forbidden treat. He soon found himself painfully straining the bounds of his pants.

"Babe. Please." He leaned back with his eyes closed and held her a little at a distance. He gulped down air like a drowning man. In essence it was exactly what he was.

"What? What's going on?" She sounded just as out of breath.

"You're killing me. I just need a sec to pull it together or I'm going to throw you over my shoulder and take you to bed." He kept his eyes closed. He could imagine her staring at him with those gorgeous green orbs, her cheeks flushed and hair messed. It wasn't helping him calm down.