Doing It Right by MaryJanice Davidson

street, back to his apartment. She never let go of his ear. She never stopped scolding him in a furious whisper. Finally, he reached up and pried her fingers loose.
    “Back off, blondie,” he said crossly. “If you expect me to cower behind a damned bench while you get set upon, you need some new medication.”
    “I expect you to do as you’re told,” she growled. They were now standing outside his apartment door and Jared fumbled tiredly for his keys. Before he could produce them, Kara yanked at her sleeve, produced two thin blades, and in about six seconds had his front door unlocked. He realized dazedly that it took him longer to unlock the door with a key than it took her to pick the lock.
Three cheers,
he thought,
for American ingenuity.
    She marched him inside, toward the bathroom. “I can’t adequately protect you if you insist on throwing yourself in the path of danger. What’s the matter with you? Any five-year-old knows enough to keep his head down and let the other person take the lumps.”
    “Bull
shit
,” he replied politely. He found himself leaning against the sink while she ran warm water in the basin, found a washcloth, and gently pressed it to his nose and mouth. The tender motion was a puzzling conflict with her tight-lipped expression, narrowed eyes, and sharp words.
    “Where I come from, you don’t let the lady take the lumps. Jeez, what kind of household did you grow up in, any—” He made himself stop talking and stared at her. She was tending to his face and wouldn’t look at him and no wonder—Kara hadn’t exactly been brought up in the be-kind-to-children-and-animals mode.
    “Putz,” she said again, and he silently agreed.
    A long moment passed, then he caught her wrists and gently took the washcloth away from her. “I can do that. And quit manhandling me, will you? Don’t make me kick your ass.”
    She snorted and he continued. “Listen. I get that you’re truly angry with me. I couldn’t figure out why until right now—you truly feel it’s your job to get hurt and mine to stay safe?” She said nothing. “The thing is, I see us as more of a team.”
    “We’re not a team. I’m never in a team,” she said fiercely, and tried to take the washcloth away from him. He held it high above her head, out of reach.
    “Stop me if you’ve heard this before, but bullshit.”
    “I can’t keep you safe if you’re not going to listen,” she said flatly. She gave him a disgusted look as he dangled the washcloth out of her reach, as if saying:
You don’t really think I’m going to jump for that, do you?
    “Well, I won’t stay safe if it means you’ll get hurt. Period. The end. The fat lady singeth.”
    She stared at him. “You’re an idiot.”
    He raised an eyebrow at her and sponged the rest of the drying blood off his face. The nosebleed had stopped a few minutes ago, luckily. “I don’t want to see you get pounded, ergo I’m an idiot? What, you’ve never hung around with one of the good guys before?”
    “I’ve never hung around with a moron before,” she muttered, looking away.
    He caught her chin and gently forced her tolook at him. “In all the excitement,” he said mildly, although his heart was starting to pound, “I forgot to thank you for kicking some major ass on my behalf.”
    He leaned forward to kiss her and to his amazement and pleasure she met him more than halfway. She tenderly licked his sore upper lip, then her tongue slipped past his teeth and suddenly he was tasting her, devouring her, holding her tightly against his chest and kissing her with all the passion and excitement she had called up in him from the moment he first saw her.
    Jared, who’d been sure the infatuation was one-sided, was thrilled to feel Kara’s hands slip under his shirt, her fingers brushing across his nipples and sliding through his chest hair.
    He cupped her head in his hands tenderly, carefully, as if holding a Fabergé egg, precious and priceless. He pulled at the