One Lucky Hero

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Authors: Codi Gary
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marathon.”
    â€œAh, you got a thing for Shemar Moore?”
    Dean tucked her hair behind her ear, shaking his head. “Nah, not my type. Yours?”
    â€œActually, I’ve always had a thing for Reed,” she said.
    Dean’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “The skinny kid?”
    â€œWhat? He’s like a lost puppy. You just want to snuggle him,” she said, teasing.
    â€œIf he’s a puppy, what does that make me?” he asked.
    â€œA kitten.”
    Dean laughed again, the sound rough. It didn’t happen very often, so he was out of practice. “You think I’m a kitten?”
    â€œMm-hm, is that a problem?”
    â€œUsually kittens are small and fluffy.”
    â€œBut you can cuddle kittens, too.”
    â€œAre you saying you want to cuddle me?” he asked, surprised.
    The small, sexy smile that played across her lips was flirtatious and teasing, sending a beacon of lust straight to his cock.
    â€œLet’s eat first and see where things go,” she said.
    Sounds good to me.

Chapter Six
    B EING WITH D EAN in a crowded park was one thing, but alone in his home, sitting adjacent to him at the kitchen table . . . he seemed bigger. Not that she was worried about him , not when his massive black and white hell hound was in the room.
    Dean had finished his first taco and let Dilbert back in when he’d scratched at the door, assuring Violet that he’d give her a wide berth. Violet chewed the last bite of her burrito, watching Dilbert as he sat next to Dean’s leg. The dog never took his eyes off his master’s second taco, and if she hadn’t been waiting for the dog to lunge for the food—and his hands by extension—she might have been amused. As it was, she was like a big bucket of nerves exposed to an electric prod: jumpy and jittery as hell. Not because she was scared, at least not of Dean, but because she was waiting for what happened next.
    Being that this was her first casual encounter, she could only imagine how things were supposed to progress. Did she sneak off to use his mouthwash or chew some gum after dinner? What if he didn’t and he had onion breath?
    Oh, God, what if she went through with this and he was horrible in bed? What if he was so small that she had to lay there and fake it? The few lovers she’d had were okay, nothing mind-blowing, but she’d been satisfied.
    If he screws the way he kisses, everything will be fine. Relax. Maybe you need another drink.
    Violet wasn’t going to ask for that, though. She didn’t want him to think she was an alcoholic; he’d already looked at her funny about the Breathalyzer.
    She just needed to catch a break. After all the bad shit she’d been dealt, she just wanted one night of forget-about-everything-else-except-this-guy’s-body-on-hers sex. Was that too much to ask?
    She wiped her hands on one of the napkins and swallowed. “Where is your bathroom? I want to wash my hands.”
    â€œFirst door on the left.” He set his taco down and stood.
    â€œWhat, are you going to follow me in there?”
    â€œNo, I just wanted to make sure there was a towel for you to dry your hands on.”
    â€œOh. Thanks.”
    Violet followed Dean as he walked down the hallway and pulled a black hand towel from the linen cupboard.
    â€œHere you go. Just hang it over the towel rack when you’re done,” he said.
    â€œOkay.” As she stepped into the bathroom, she closed and locked the door behind her. Leaning back against the cold wood, she closed her eyes.
    Why is this so awkward?
    Then again, it didn’t seem like it was awkward for him at all. In fact, he appeared completely at ease, while she was sweating buckets.
    Going to the mirrored medicine cabinet above the sink, she stared in horror at her wild hair and the black smudges under her eyes.
    â€œOh, God, I look like shit.” She opened the cabinet to block out the reality of her

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