* * *
The knocking on the front door broke me out of my thoughts as I stirred the sugar in my coffee. I walked to the door, wondering if Micah had already woken up and wanted to come home. I wanted to see him. When Tabby had told me he’d fallen asleep and asked if he could sleep over, I hadn’t wanted to say yes. I had never been apart from Micah at night.
But the way Tabby’s eyes lit up with hope made me give in, and I went home alone. Without Micah sleeping in his room beside mine, I hadn’t slept well. I missed him. I wasn’t sure how he would feel about waking up without me.
I opened the door to find Dewayne instead. Not who I wanted to see this morning. Not at all.
“We need to talk,” he said, stepping inside like he owned the place. He may own a lot of things, but this house was mine.
I left the door open because I didn’t like the idea of being closed up inside with him. I was mad at him. My arm had a black-and-blue bruise on it in the shape of his massive hand. I had taken ibuprofen last night and kept my arm on ice. Didn’t seem to help. It hurt and it looked awful.
“Last night—” he said, then stopped as his eyes zeroed in on my bruised arm. I watched as he went pale, and I wasn’t sure if he was going to pass out. It was ugly, but it wasn’t that ugly.
“Holy f**k,” he swore, walking over to me and taking my wrist gently in his hand so he could lift my tender arm and look at it. “I did this,” he said.
I just nodded. Who else did he think had grabbed me like he wanted to break me last night?
“I need to be shot,” he said as he gently touched his fingertip to the marred skin. It was like a feather and, instead of hurting, caused me to shiver. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’d never hurt you. Know that. I would never hurt you. I didn’t know it was you last night when you slapped me, and I had drunk too damn much. My mind was slow, and it took me too long to register that it was you. God, Sienna, I’m so sorry.”
His voice sounded so pained that I had to fight the urge to comfort him. Maybe slapping a man his size with his temper from behind had been a bad idea. . . .
“It’s okay,” I told him, then tugged my hand free of his and put some space between us.
“No, it’s not. That isn’t okay,” he said, and his hands fisted up. “That will never happen again. I swear it. I’ll f**king stop drinking. That shit is not okay. Ever.”
Micah would be here soon, and after seeing Dewayne’s reaction to my arm, I needed to change into something with longer sleeves. Micah would be upset too. I didn’t want him scared of his uncle.
“Why are you here?” I asked, wanting him to get to the point before my son showed up.
“I came to talk about last night. To explain why I went to check out your date. But, shit, I can’t get past your arm. I was worried about Cam, and I was the one who f**king hurt you. Did he know I did that?”
I nodded.
Dewayne’s face darkened. “Fucker should have hit me. You need a man with some balls, and that dipshit knew I hurt you and didn’t even come after me.”
Was he kidding? Did he think everything should be handled with violence? And why was that so incredibly hot? I needed to seek mental help. Violence was not sexy. Even if Dewayne’s muscles flexed when he was just talking about a fight.
“You need to leave,” I told him before I could say something stupid.
Dewayne started to say something, but I held up my hand to stop him. “I know you didn’t hurt me on purpose. I know you checked out Cam because you were protecting me and Micah. I get it. Now please leave. I need coffee, and I didn’t sleep well last night, and I—”
I stopped talking as Dewayne took two steps toward me until he was towering over me. Then his larger-than-life hands cupped my face, and before anything could register, his lips were on mine.
I reached up and grabbed his arms to keep myself from melting into a puddle on the floor. Dewayne Falco’s mouth was very talented, and the second his tongue slipped along my bottom lip, I opened up for him and was lost. The minty taste of him consumed me as he nibbled and explored my mouth. I just held on. It was all I could do. My entire body was under his command. I couldn’t think coherently. Nothing had ever been like this. Ever.
But then, I had only kissed one other. And we had just been kids then.
Dewayne’s hands slipped down my back and cupped my bottom as he lifted me higher up against his body. His tongue danced along and teased mine, driving me crazy.
A moan came from somewhere, but I wasn’t sure whose it was. He heard it too, and it was like ice water over the fire that he’d wrapped us inside. Before I could steady myself, I was back on the ground and Dewayne was putting the length of my living room between us. I grabbed the chair behind me and hoped I didn’t sway on my feet.
Dewayne’s eyes were wild as he breathed heavily. At least he seemed as affected as I was. Because I was affected. No, I was marked. For life. I may not have been kissed by anyone other than Dustin before this, but I knew that no one was ever going to compare to what I’d just experienced.
“We can’t. I shouldn’t have,” Dewayne said, shaking his head. Then he all but ran out of my house. I stood there and listened to his truck door close and the engine start up. I stood there long after his truck had pulled out of my driveway.
He hadn’t been able to get away from me fast enough. It wasn’t like I had asked him to kiss me. Had he expected me to push him away? Was I a bad kisser? Had that moan been mine, and he had been turned off?
God! I hated being so damn clueless at this.