Christmas from Hell

So, she tried to push his arm away only to once again find herself pulled closer against him, with him nuzzling her neck and sighing contently as he palmed-

Yup, that was definitely her breast that he was palming.

As she laid there, unable to really move, and let’s be honest here, with every passing second she really didn’t want to move out of his arms, she realized that she’d just gotten to second base. Granted, it wasn’t on purpose and he’d probably be really pissed off once he realized who he was feeling up, but it was a first for her.

She should definitely be outraged, she tried to tell herself as she finally gave in and snuggled closer to him, deciding that if she couldn’t escape without the aid of the jaws of life then she might as well enjoy the moment, however short it may be before the glaring started and she knew that there would be glaring.

There was always glaring…

Whenever he spotted her, whether it was when she was leaving the house, driving down past the fire house, walking down the street or when he came into her family’s bakery, Dixon’s Bakery, he always shot her a glare that told her exactly what he thought of her, which wasn’t a hell of a lot. Again, not that she could blame him since whenever he made the mistake of being within a hundred feet of her something bad, and usually scar-worthy, happened to him.

She still felt really bad about that dumpster thing…

She should make one last attempt to get out of this bed, she mused as she snuggled even closer to him, for warmth of course, and not because she liked the way that he tightened his arms around her or that incredibly hot groan he released when she did it. She definitely needed to get going, she reminded herself, thinking of all the cakes, muffins, donuts and breads that she needed to start preparing for the morning rush.

She should definitely be going, she decided around a yawn as it became increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open. After another minute of struggling to stay awake she gave in, closed her eyes and tried not to freak out when he did another one of those growl thingies.

Was that normal?

Whatever it was, it was actually quite soothing. She’d just close her eyes for a little bit and then she’d figure out how to escape before the glaring began.

*-*-*-*

Oh, fuck no, he thought, unable to believe just how badly he’d fucked up even as he pulled the small woman that annoyed the living shit out of him closer to him, unable to help himself.

Christ, she felt so fucking good, he couldn’t help but notice as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to savor the peace that having her in his arms brought him. This was so wrong, so fucking wrong, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d never in his life felt anything so good and for a minute, he didn’t give a damn that it was the annoying little neighbor that made his life a living hell that made him feel like this. He needed this, needed her and God help him, but he never wanted to let her go.

But he did, because this was all wrong.

This sense of peace wasn’t because of her, he told himself as he reluctantly released her and pulled away. It was the drugs that his father had given him last night. They’d kicked in and knocked him on his ass and unfortunately for him, they’d done it when he was in the bed of the most annoying woman that he’d ever had the misfortune of knowing.

*-*-*-*

“Good morning,” the elderly man sitting at the table, casually holding a gun in his lap, said with a warm smile that stopped Duncan dead in his tracks and actually scared him a hell of a lot more than that gun that was carelessly aimed in his direction did.

“Good morning, sir,” he said with a firm nod, keeping his eyes on the old man that he had absolutely no doubt would kill him without hesitation if he thought that Duncan had hurt his granddaughter in any way, which kind of made sneaking out of her room at six in the morning a bit of an awkward situation for him.

“How did you sleep?” Mr. Dixon asked, the warm smile never wavering and he had to admit that was fucking terrifying.

“Good,” he said evenly, refusing to look away like some coward even as he lied his ass off.

He’d never slept better in his life and if he didn’t have a fucking conscience, he never would have left that bed.

“Good, good,” Mr. Dixon said absently as he reached over and picked up his cup of coffee with his free hand, keeping his other hand firmly over the gun resting on his lap as he kept his cold gray eyes locked on Duncan. “And my granddaughter?”

“The cuts weren’t deep enough for sutures, but they needed to be cleaned to avoid infection,” he explained in the same tone he used when he gave his report to whichever attending was working the emergency room when he rolled in with a patient.

“And you felt the need to wash those cuts?” Mr. Dixon said with that warm smile as he absently caressed the barrel of the gun with his finger.

“No, sir. She washed them herself, but I’m afraid that I may have fallen asleep while waiting for her to finish so I never had the opportunity to re-check the wounds,” he said, answering the old man’s unanswered question.

Mr. Dixon’s eyes narrowed on him ever so slightly that he almost missed it, but after a long pause in which Duncan’s life flashed before his eyes, and God had he lived a boring fucking life, Mr. Duncan placed the gun on the kitchen table, stood up and with a nod, headed towards the back door where he stood waiting, letting Duncan know that it was time to leave.

Since that worked for him, Duncan returned the nod and headed for the door, but as he stepped past Mr. Dixon he couldn’t help but wonder why he’d considered risking everything for a second there for a woman that he couldn’t stand.

Chapter 6

“Oh, my God, please stop,” Necie said, rubbing her temples with her fingertips as she tried to block out what her grandfather was saying and go to her happy place, but there would be no escape.

Not today.