Great Sizzling Kiss from Changes

By: Debra Erfert

Debra delivers with this one!

This is unedited and will soon be published by Walnut Springs Press.

“Did you kiss her goodnight?” His brows scrunched together at my question. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”


“No, I didn’t.” Micah ran his hand along the back of my calf, nearly driving me crazy. “I couldn’t think of kissing another woman—after you.”

“Micah?” I leaned closer again, close enough I breathed in his woodsy aftershave scent. “Why . . . why haven’t you . . .” How could I ask him why he never asked me out before? I felt like such a jealous woman—not after what he told me. He placed the bandage on my snakebite, and I got up. Maybe, if I didn’t look at him, I might be able to find out why we haven’t dated. My new fridge became very interesting. The top part was double-sided, and the bottom part was a freezer drawer.

“My brother is a plumber, and he’ll hook up the line you need so you can have water and ice coming out the front—if you’d like.” Micah stood behind me. I felt the warmth of his body, or it could be my nerves reacting to his close presence. “Did I tell you that my mom ordered a new range?” I shook my head. “It won’t be in for another week, but she’s happy you wanted the fridge, and she wants you to have the range too. Mom’s even going to switch out her dishwasher with a stainless steel version.” I turned my head a little, enough for me to see how far away Micah stood. “Do you want a dishwasher?” he asked.

I nodded, and realized not looking at him wasn’t any easier than staring at him.

“Why haven’t . . . haven’t you asked me—” I took in a quick breath, “out on a date?”

Micah turned me around by my shoulders. I kept my eyes on a single, totally fascinating button of his shirt, afraid of what I’d see if I looked into his eyes. But then all I had to do is remember how they matched the bright desert sky on a warm afternoon and my heart flipped against my lungs.

“We’ve never officially been out on a date, but . . .” he slowly slid his fingers down the back of my arms, creating a wave of gooseflesh in their wake, “I know so much about you. I know you’re deathly afraid of spiders.” He moved closer, and it was harder to take in a breath. “You have the cutest dance when you’re happy, and your best friend sets her own style trends every time she steps out the door.”

He lifted my hands and studied the scratches on my knuckles. “You have a solid right hook. You’re not afraid of snakes, and you’re smart—you know when to wear your boots. You can feel a touch as light as a web against your neck,” he said, brushing his fingers against my skin below my ear, making me dizzy. “You love your dog so much you let him sleep with you. And I know I don’t want to spend time with any other women since I met you.”

“Then . . . why haven’t . . . you ever . . . asked . . . me out?” I gasped a breath when Micah ran his fingers under my jaw and lifted my chin upward.

Micah lowered his head and whispered, “I’m asking you now,” and pressed his mouth on my trembling lips.

I’d waited for his kiss, wanted it as much as it seemed he did. I slid my hands up his chest, feeling the strong muscles in his shoulders before looping my arms around his neck. I didn’t want him to end the kiss as he did the last time—too quickly and abruptly. Every second that passed sent me tumbling deeper in love, as passion roiled in my stomach. Micah’s arms tightened around my waist like an amorous boa constrictor about ready to devour its prey, and I was in his unbreakable grip.