Christmas from Hell

Page 46

 
When she turned her head and buried her face against his shoulder and wrapped her free arm around his shoulders, he knew that he had her trust. Keeping his free hand on her hip, he kissed the top of her head as he whispered that everything was going to be okay. When he asked if she trusted him, she didn’t hesitate in nodding and murmuring a little pained, “Yes.”
 
“Good girl,” he said in approval, rewarding her with another kiss, “First aid kit?” he asked no one in particular.
 
“We’ve got one under the sink,” one of the women said, looking flustered as she gestured towards the cabinet doors beneath them.
 
He shook his head, because a ten-dollar first-aid kit from Wal-Mart wasn’t going to do. Not for her. Giving her one last kiss, he released her hand beneath the water and shut the faucet off. Before she could sigh with relief or her grandfather could demand that he get his hands off her, he was carrying her back the way that they’d come. Only this time he didn’t stop until he had her out the front door and carried her to his truck.
 
“Where the hell do you think you’re going with her?” her grandfather asked, looking flustered as he threw an accusing glare at Necie, telling him that the old bastard had probably gone for one of his guns from his infamous collection, one reason the bakery had never been robbed, and she’d found a way to block him.
 
He fucking loved this girl, he decided, shooting her grandfather a wink, letting him know that he was well aware of how close he’d come to getting his balls shot off and simply said, “Home.”
 
 
Chapter 28
 
“Umm, this isn’t my home,” she felt obligated to point out as he carried her through the backdoor that led to his large kitchen, which she would love to get her hands on and up the backstairs, careful of the large packed moving boxes stacked here and there, blocking their way to his attic bedroom.
 
“Well,” he said, pausing to lean down and kiss her before he continued carrying her up the stairs that would lead to his large attic bedroom, “to be fair, I never said whose home I’d be taking you to.”
 
“What’s with all the boxes?” she asked, her curiosity taking over, which was probably for the best since her nerves were fighting for an opportunity to take over and most likely have her do something that would leave them both scarred for life.
 
“Not really sure,” he said with a curious frown of his own, but when he simply shrugged it off, she let it go and focused on that large bed that he was carrying her to and for the first time since last night when he’d showed her exactly what stamina meant, all she could think about was how soft the pillows were and just how good that mattress felt.
 
He chuckled as he sat her down on the edge of the bed. “Tired?” he asked, taking another peek at her hand before he went to his closet and grabbed a large trauma bag, the kind that she’d seen in ambulances.
 
“Just a little,” she said, embarrassed to admit that staying up all night to have sex with him had left her exhausted.
 
As he cleaned her burn with saline and dry linen, she had to wonder how most women did it. How did most women have incredibly hot sex all night long and still manage to get up, lead a full life and not pass out in the process? There was probably something wrong with her, she thought worriedly as she sat there, pondering the idea of buying those five hour energy drinks in bulk so that she would be able to keep up with him.
 
There had to be a trick to doing this, she told herself, barely aware that he was stripping her naked or carrying her into the bathroom, mostly because she’d already fallen asleep.
 
*-*-*-*
 
“Thank God,” he said, sounding like a wimp and not giving a fuck, not when he was sure that he was seconds away from passing out from exhaustion.
 
He laid the freshly washed, slumbering woman in his arms carefully on his bed and when she didn’t wake up, he promptly dove for the spot behind her, pulled the blankets up, wrapped his arm around her and closed his eyes.
 
Who would have thought that the small woman next door, who couldn’t seem to go a single day without causing a disaster, could wear him out so completely? He’d been exhausted before, but never like this. God, he couldn’t remember hurting this much before, even after working two double shifts, back to back, but here he was, praying that she stayed asleep so that he could get some sleep.
 
She’d definitely worn him out, he thought with a smile as he pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder and-
 
“Wake her up and it will be the last thing that you’ll ever do,” came the erringly familiar voice of the man that he knew would kill him without a second’s hesitation.
 
*-*-*-*
 
“Let’s have ourselves a talk, shall we?”
 
Duncan rubbed his hands down his face, not even bothering to open his eyes as he waited for Mr. Dixon to get to the point of this kidnapping. Any other man and he probably would have beat the shit out of him for sneaking into his room and threatening him, but this was Necie’s grandfather, so out of respect for her, he’d gone along quietly with this kidnapping.
 
“Might as well get it out of the way,” he said, already knowing where this was going.
 
Duncan wasn’t good enough for Necie and never would be. He needed to stay the hell away from his granddaughter before-
 
“You need to be sure,” Mr. Dixon said firmly.
 
“What?” Duncan asked, opening his eyes, because he really hadn’t expected that. “What the hell are you talking about?”
 
“Necie doesn’t deserve to be another one of your playthings, Duncan,” Mr. Dixon said evenly as he met Duncan’s gaze and held it as he sat there, reminding himself that he wasn’t the type of asshole to punch an elderly man.
 
“I don’t have playthings,” he bit out, beyond fucking offended.
 
“No, but you are a Bradford.”
 
“Meaning?”