Reeve (The Henchmen MC 11)

"I didn't know what else to do with him," he admitted as I took the crate from him and put it down on the coffee table.

"No, I'm glad you brought him here. I don't usually take in raccoons. They can carry Baylisascaris worms that can infect other animals and people. But I can hold onto him until the local wildlife rescue opens and can take care of him."

"Worms?" Reeve asked, looking a little green at the idea.

"Don't worry," I assured him with a small smile as I carried the crate into the kitchen, transferring him into an old dog crate instead, the kind with the plastic sides so he could feel safe and hidden. "You don't just get it from touching them. It's all in the cleanup after them. Can you give me a handful of the dog food from the pantry?" I asked as I moved to the fridge.

He seemed about eight weeks old. He would be eating solid foods. I got a handful of veggies out of the fridge and dropped them into the crate along with a bowl of water. Reeve came back with the dog food in a cup, squatting down beside me. "He's gonna eat dog food?"

"It's grain-free, so they can have it," I told him as I reached in the cup to drop some into the crate before closing it up, figuring he had had enough upset for the night and likely needed to be left alone to warm up next to the air vent. "Come on, wash your hands. Better safe than sorry," I told him, taking the cup of food and tossing it, not taking any chances. I wouldn't let any of the other animals in the kitchen until he was gone and the place was cleaned. Just in case.

We moved to the sink in unison, me reaching to turn on the hot water, knowing it would take a good three minutes for it to warm up, so we were just going to have to suck it up, him reaching for the soap, squeezing some on my hands before his own.

It was weird that something as tame as washing your hands side by side was making the moment feel heavy.

But the sink wasn't that big. We were touching from my shoulder to hip, and my body was incredibly, acutely aware of this. And my near-nakedness made me able to feel his body heat through his jeans and long-sleeve tee. The rough material of his pants scraped the sliver of skin between my panties and tee, making a shiver move through my insides when he turned to hand me the towel after drying his hands.

And, judging by the way his eyes went somewhat hooded, yeah, that shiver wasn't just an internal one.

"Cold?" he asked, seeming to already know the answer to that.

"No," I admitted, never being the type to lie. "Not cold."

"Didn't think so," his voice rumbled, low, a sound my body immediately recognized. I had been wrong about him. Maybe I was his cup of tea after all.

My head tilted up, holding his heated gaze for a long moment, long enough to make me sure he was on the same page as me before I moved forward a step, closing the space between us, my hand raising to land just under his ribcage. Even placed that low, I could feel the pounding of his heart, matching the frantic pace of my own.

At the contact, whatever thread of control he had been maintaining snapped.

His hands lifted, moving out to frame my face just a second before his lips sealed over mine.

And the contact came with a zing.

Yes, it zinged.

From my lips, through my core, and ending with an intense pulsation decidedly lower. It was strong enough to make my muscles tense, my hand curling into his skin as his head slanted, lips pressing in deeper, making my heartbeat thunder in my ears, as my lips fell open on a sigh, inviting him in.

His teeth snagged my lower lip with a low rumbling sound in his chest as his hands moved from my jaw, traveling across my shoulders, down my arms, my sides, resting at my hips for a second, fingers digging in as though he was trying to prevent them from roaming.

It was a battle he lost.

Barely a breath later, his hands slipped back and down, sinking hard into my ass. My panties of the somewhat cheeky nature, his bare work-roughened skin gripped my soft flesh, making another shiver move through me.

Feeling it, Reeve's hands tightened even more, almost to the point of pain, before moving down to grab the backs of my knees, yanking hard upward, dragging me off my feet, and guiding my thighs to the sides of his hips where I eagerly crossed them.

There wasn't even a pause before he spun us, dropping my ass down on the butcher block cutting board I kept on the counter beside the stove, his arms crossing around the center of my back, holding my body flush to his as his tongue finally moved inside to claim mine.