Thank you so much for inspiring me. This is my first time really writing a scene like this, so I am so worried it is a terrible job!

Chapter 9

Red was sitting on the couch in the dark, watching the TV in the living room, flicking the channels over with the remote; the only source of lighting coming from the flickering pictures on the screen. Lizzy had went upstairs to have a shower, and after that, now that the tap had stopped running and the plumbing had stopped groaning through the walls of the house, he had assumed she had put herself to bed. He learned his mistake later when he heard it.

"You mind if I sit and watch TV with you for a bit?" Lizzy's husky voice gave him a start, and Red craned his neck over to look at her. The lighting was so dim that he could barely just see her standing by the doorway, her hands crossed over her chest.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping by now? You have school tomorrow, don't you?"

"I... I know, but I can't sleep. I keep thinking about dad being stuck in that hospital room."

He saw nothing wrong about her watching some mindless TV with him, so he shrugged wordlessly, turning back to the images flickering on the screen. She was almost eighteen, practically an adult. Surely she could decide what was a reasonable enough time to put herself to bed.

His view of the television was disrupted and obscured for a fleeting moment when Lizzy strode in front of him to sit next to him on the couch.

He hadn't meant to look, but he noticed straightaway when she passed in front of him that Lizzy was only wearing a sleeveless grey tank top and what seemed to be an extremely short pair of black boy-leg briefs. In his defense, it was hard not to notice. Anyone his age or otherwise would have. Why she hadn't bothered to put trousers on, especially around him, was a mystery- not that he minded the sight of her slender legs. She sank into the couch cushion right next to him, far too close for comfort as she did so, like he was a schoolboy she was canoodling with on the couch rather than a man more than half her age. A hiss of breath left his lips when he felt her bare shoulder and the entire length of her arm brush against his.

It grew incredibly harder to focus on what was playing on the TV after that, but Red tried with all his might, forcing his eyes not to stray in her direction.

Whether Lizzy had intended to do it or not, she brought both legs up onto the couch, resting her left foot on his kneecap, giving him what no doubt was a playful little nudge with her toes. He handed her the remote before splaying out both arms on the back of the couch out of fear of accidentally touching her when she let the side of her head droop onto his shoulder, resting it on him while she turned over the channel to find something she liked to watch.

He turned his head just the slightest fraction, staring down at the crown of her forehead. He could only just see her eyes, the way she blinked sleepily at the images dancing off the screen, absorbed in concentration.

He could smell her then, up close. She smelled faintly of lavender, perhaps from the shampoo. Her hair was still slightly damp from the shower she just had taken, and he could feel the wet strands soaking through the cotton of his shirt, yet getting wet was the very least of his concerns right now, he found.

It was sensory overload. It overwhelmed him tremendously; the smell of her wet hair combined with what her toes were doing to his knee.

He had to clear his throat quietly, a scratchy sensation suddenly forming as his eyes drifted to her foot as she curled her toes downward, prodding at his knee with her toenails through his jeans. While he had understood kinkiness and certain sexual proclivities people had in the bedroom, fetishes of the feet were not something he understood, something he felt baffled by. Until now.

There was something oddly appealing about her feet, her toes. The way her ankle glided down and arched, the way her toenails were painted a light pink. They were so feminine and sensual-looking somehow; as much as he supposed feet could be, in terms of sensuality.

A gentle laugh escaped her as she lifted her head against him, the side of her pale neck exposed to him, long and bare. He felt that terrible urge once again to trail that surface with his mouth. It was the TV; There was something on the TV she found humorous for some God forsaken reason. It occurred to him that he liked the sound of her laughter a bit too much. For him, it was as if the TV didn't exist. It may have well not been on. The voices on the TV were just a mere, muted droning noise in the background in comparison to her presence.

But this was fine, he began to chant inside his head compulsively. She was still just upset over Sam being in the hospital, and that was partly the main reason why she was snuggled up against him on the couch the way she was. She was upset and worried for Sam and naturally she craved the comfort of another human. It was nothing drastic, what they were doing. Sam surely wouldn't have minded it.

"I've always liked this show," Lizzy murmured without taking her eyes off the screen, tilting her head up again. He could just only spot her tongue peeking through her teeth as she laughed again.

Speaking felt next to impossible, but he tried. "Have you?"

"Yeah. Do you like it too?"

He brought his eyes back to the screen reluctantly. He had no idea what was even on or what was happening on this show that she apparently had liked so much. "I can't say I've ever actually watched this show before. In fact, to tell the truth, I don't think I have even watched an actual TV show in years."

She laughed again, but this time it was mostly due to what he said and not the show. "Just like you haven't driven a car," she said, in a voice barely audible. "So you haven't watched a TV show for a long time and you haven't driven a car either? Don't you need to drive to get to your job as an accountant?"

Red strove frantically for a good excuse. "I've only just retired from accounting. It wasn't the... right job for me, I found."

He wanted to speak, to change the subject onto something safer, something easier before she became too inquisitive and asked too many questions. He thought of his behavior this morning when he had pulled her out of school early. How upset and angry she was with him for withholding information from her... His thoughts stalled there. She seemed as though she had gotten over her anger, certainly enough to cuddle him on the couch. He knew there was no anger there anymore but still, he spoke.

"With what happened this morning... you were angry at me for withholding what was truly going on with your father? Are you still angry?"

His voice was soft with worry. She couldn't remember him ever speaking in this specific tone before. It was... heavenly. His words were a soft, mellowed rumble that surrounded her. She recalled what had happened this morning, and wondered if she did still appear angry with him. She definitely had been angry at the time, but now she thought she understood his reasons why.

"I admit I was angry with you for keeping what had happened with my father away from me. But not anymore," she answered, pulling her head back slightly so that she could meet his eyes. Her voice started match his easy, low tone and the exchange felt like it had turned into an existence of its own. "I think I understand now. Your friendship with my father is something very important to you. It's something that you clearly value? The friendship that you two have together?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Is my father going to be okay?" She knew he was determined not to tell her too much, and while she respected that, she also still tried to push it. "I heard him talking to you in the kitchen a couple of days ago about having tests done from his doctors appointment? What was that all about?"

"I'm not sure. Frankly, I truly can't say."

Seeing as her father was away and it was just them two in the house alone together, Elizabeth felt as though she wanted to take advantage. To not take advantage would seem like a missed opportunity. "Do you know what happened to me as a little girl?" she asked hesitantly, her fingers passing over her scar. "Do you know how my father came to have me? Did he ever... tell you that seeing as how close you two are?" She was fairly certain that her father had to have told him.

Red felt winded at how quickly their conversation had turned. She wanted to talk about the fire, and he shifted slightly on the couch to meet her eyes. "He told me a brief recount of the story, yes. I believe he called me the night you were given to him at his doorstep, terrified out of his mind over having to look after a young girl." Sam hadn't really needed to call him- he had been there, after all- but it was closest and realistic enough to the truth.

"And what did he tell you of that night exactly?" She wanted to see if her father had told Kenneth more than what she knew of the story. She wouldn't have put it past her father to contain certain details from her.

"Well, I may be wrong, but... the way Sam's version of the story went was that one night an old friend showed up on his doorstep, scared. The friend had told Sam that he was leaving town, that he was in danger. And also... that he needed someone to care for a little girl."

He paused for a moment, tonguing his cheek, thinking his next words over carefully. It was crucial that she not know that it was him who had turned up on Sam's doorstep that night, that it was him all along.

He reached down to rub and grip the side of her thigh with his hand, immediately regretting doing such an impulsive thing. Her skin felt too good beneath his fingers; so smooth and soft and warm. "As it turned out, that little girl had been you, Lizzy." He smiled at her tightly, overcome with fondness and relief. Out of all the things he had done over the years, pulling her back from the flames and taking her to Sam had been one of the more positive ones. "There had been something of a... family dispute and a fire had broken out at the house, a fire in which you had very nearly died in. So Sam took you in and raised you as his own, ensuring that you were... safe and well taken care of. And that's all I know."

They were both silent for a long moment on the couch, Red reflecting on that night. He could still recount what had happened so vividly in his mind; Sometimes, he believed he could still smell the smoke, that he could still feel the suffocating heat of the flames hitting his back. Still hear the piercing, terrified wails she had made back then as a little girl ricocheting in his ears, as though it was happening all over again, as if they weren't safe and sound, sitting on the couch together.

"It was my father that took me to Sam," Lizzy finally spoke in tones so softly definite that he would not have had the heart to correct her and tell her otherwise, even if he had planned to. "My actual biological father was the old friend. It's really the only memory I have of him, of him... saving me that night." She met his eyes again, biting her bottom lip with her front teeth.

No, he would have told her if he could have, his heart swelling and aching in his chest with words that must be left unsaid. No, it wasn't your father, Lizzy. It was me, I was the old friend. I was there that night, and your father... he died in the fire. You killed him.

But he could not do that to her; he could not destroy and tarnish the one and only good memory she had left of her father. It would have seemed callous of him and cruel, somehow. It wasn't right. It was much better that he left her as she was, with that one belief of her biological father.

"I presume it was your father that took you to Sam, yes," he agreed, his voice hoarse. "After all, I hardly think any father in their right mind would leave a daughter that they loved and cherished so much there to simply burn and perish in a fire. No doubt it was your father that brought you to Sam that night." It was the hardest thing Red thought he had ever had to say, but it was better for her. He could see that she was so content to believe it was her father that had brought her to Sam that night, that he was... alive out there somewhere. He could not ruin that for her.

A silence passed between them where Elizabeth started watching her show again.

Despite being engaged in the TV show, one of Elizabeth's favorites, she became aware of how funny Kenneth's breathing started to become, particularly when she moved her foot around on his knee. It was quite loud and deep, interfering with her being able to properly listen to what the characters were saying on the show.

She moved her head up off his shoulder before looking at his face in the dark of the living room. His eyes were on her, glistening in the reflection of the TV. Maybe he was feeling sorry for her due to what happened when she was younger? But then she thought she saw his heavy-lidded eyes flit down to her lips as she licked them to get rid of their dryness, but she could not be sure. Was he thinking about kissing her now? She wondered with excitement sending her heart pacing furiously. Or was it just her wishing that he would?

She had to be a woman now. She had to act like a brave, young woman so that he actually realized what she felt for him. She was so frustrated with waiting for him to do something, like kiss her. For once, it occurred to her that she would have to be the one making the first move. But she found herself afraid; so very afraid of what his reaction might be and scared at the idea of having to face his rejection. But at this point, did that even matter?

She had heard somewhere that sometimes, if something was worth doing, then you had to take a risk in order to make it happen.

Seconds passed that seemed like days as he stared back at her, his eyes glistening with emotion. She had to do it, otherwise she would only come to regret it for the rest of her life. Even if it ended badly, even if he ended up spitting her out of his mouth to reel away in disgust... what did it matter, so long as she took a bold risk?

She twisted on the couch with her upper body, and from the moment she leaned in closer, all of her compulsive self-doubts and worries stopped entirely; urge had taken over and at last she had followed through.

Lizzy's lips touched his and Red felt as if someone had beat him around the skull, erasing any previous conscious thought or memory he had at the present moment.

While he had ascertained earlier that she had developed something of a flattering little crush on him, he was not expecting her to do this, to make a move. A surge of panic gusted through him as red flashing hazard lights went off in his head, warning him to act responsibly, to turn her down kindly. So this kind of thing happened all the time, though never to him; where a young woman found herself so foolishly infatuated with a man. The only troubling difference to the scenario was that her feelings were quite reciprocated, and he felt the same for her.

There was just something about her that he could not put a name on. Perhaps it had something partly to do with their connection from her childhood, he did not know.

He shouldn't be doing this, definitely not with his friend's adopted daughter and he knew that, yet still, he felt stunned with pleasure by her taking lead, knowing he would not have had the sheer strength and confidence to do so otherwise. His mind was telling him one thing, yet he was doing an entirely other; His lips puckered, pressed, and pushed against hers mindlessly.

Sam needn't know about any of this, he decided as Lizzy leaned into him, arching him backwards into the padded couch. This was perfectly fine.

Her position changed as she rose up, swinging her legs on both sides of him, straddling him as she faced him fully. Her TV show was since long forgotten about when Red accelerated the movements, his lips concentrating on the bottom of hers, sucking for a moment and then savoring it all. In turn, Lizzy lightly parted her lips, the upper grazing just below his nose. He could feel her lips hovering, her mouth open, and he waited a moment to feel the warmth of her breath release and then he took her gaping mouth as an invitation. His tongue slid slowly into her mouth, meeting her own, and he moaned in delight at the enchanting, slippery warmth of it all.

Despite how bad it was, giving in, and how... wrong it was to Sam, it felt so terribly good. It was similar to the relief of finally scratching an itch that had been increasing and increasing with ever more agonizing intensity with each passing day. At last, he was scratching that itch, gaining that relief, and that itch was Lizzy.

Elizabeth had been kissed before- by a young boy when she was around seven or eight at school. She had assumed she had a crush on him at the time, and they had kissed on the lips once behind the building, a kiss so quick and uncomfortable that afterwards both him and her had wiped their mouths furiously, making faces at each other in disgust. The poor quality of her first kiss experienced at that age had made her wonder if she would end up being sworn off kissing forever. That kiss had been quick and wet and sloppy. Now it was as though she were learning the true meaning of what a real, passionate kiss was, with Kenneth.

In the moments Kenneth's tongue slid into her mouth as she tasted his, she could think of little else. She had felt so heavy and weighed down earlier, as if little weights were attached to her arms and legs, her heart and her rib cage by string whenever she stressed about Sam being in the hospital while she was at home- but now she felt so much better. With the way Kenneth was kissing her; with all the experience of man his age, it was as if no one else in the world existed, as if those invisible weights were gone and she was set free. She did not imagine what her father would think if he knew what her and his close friend were doing on the couch. It was just Kenneth, and her.

She never once thought he would have returned her kisses, but he was. She almost didn't want to believe it was true.

As she began to feel more adventurous and confident, she started sliding her hands up and around the front of his shirt, around his torso and broad shoulders, before finally trailing them up higher into the thick strands of his light brown hair.

Any previous doubts and warnings inside of Red's head seemed to disappear, and it as if his lips were captive to Lizzy's own. His groin area swelled uncomfortably through his jeans under the weight of her body on him, and his hands became more restless and anxious as she increased tempo with her mouth while her hands and fingers massaged his scalp. He brought a hand up to caress her hair, then as it fell, he caressed her neck and shoulder eagerly on the way down, the other rising and hovering near her chest.

He couldn't help waiting for the precise moment when one of his actions became too much, too daring for her, imagining her stopping him and the whole entire dreadful thing that was happening, slapping his arms away. When this did not happen after each move he made he became even more dangerously aroused and astounded.

She should put an end to this, seeing as he obviously did not have the willpower to. She would stop it once it occurred to her how Sam would feel if he knew. Yet it became apparent that her father was not even a consideration in her mind; She did not push him away or anything of the sort.

When he moved one hand under her tank top, gliding his fingers eagerly up the smooth, taunt muscles of her belly, he thought that would be it then. It would be enough and she would slap him away. Yet it did not happen. Not even when it dawned onto him that she was not wearing a bra when his hand crossed the softness of her breasts, fondling and squeezing the supple mass of each one in a handful, and he groaned audibly against her mouth.

When Elizabeth heard that she was taken to an entirely new level. It was the biggest arousal she had ever felt, due to that strictly male utterance of passion. She had made Kenneth make that sound. She felt so powerful and like a real woman then; One that had power over him, sensuality and effect. She was a woman embracing her femininity, and the sound he had made was because of her body and hers alone.

She captured his tongue with her teeth, and when he arched his head back her lips sucked against its length, drawing it completely out of his mouth until she released it and leaned back. What she was doing was so sensual and effecting in its intention that Red felt as though his head was spinning as he moaned again. The tightness and swelling in his groin was unbearable through his jeans and he involuntarily thrust his lower body upwards between her legs with a low grunt, needing friction and some form of relief more than ever before.

This would be it, he told himself. The last, fatal line that she could not allow him to cross. Surely she wouldn't have allowed them to have sex, would she? He relied solely on this moment, on Lizzy rebutting him.

He was beyond relieved when Lizzy arched her head back, stopping their kissing with the movement, her hands sliding out of his hair and around the front of his shirt. She slipped a hand beneath the collar of his shirt, her fingers moving through his chest hair, rubbing him down. Both of their breathing was heavy and labored, and when she met his eyes, she licked her lips slowly, an entirely different Lizzy seeming to have taken her over. But they had passed that fatal solid line where any denial of feelings or his attraction to her of any kind would have only been relatively ridiculous.

"We... we shouldn't continue with this, Lizzy." The words stumbled out of his mouth with no firmness or resolve in the tone whatsoever. "I... I fear that if we do, you'll feel it a terrible mistake."

He should leave and remove himself from this situation entirely before it was far too late, his frantic thoughts told him as Lizzy ignored his objections, leaning in to start kissing him again hungrily. He should find the nearest bar in Nebraska and search for a woman- and any woman would do at this point- a woman to bed for the night, anyone that was not Lizzy, anyone that was not Sam's daughter and the little girl from the house fire. He was so weak minded, in letting the temptation to be with her grasp hold of him so tightly. He should not have allowed this to happen. He was the adult here in this situation and yet, he had a moment of sheer weakness. One that should never have happened in the first place.

Yet there was not a chance in the slightest of that happening, and he grew aware of that the instance he softened into her kisses, puckering his lips against hers again, matching their desperate rhythm as their foreheads rested against each other's. He felt as if he was at the fire again, bristling with desire, burning up. With such shame and arousal-filled torment he acknowledged that even if he had the strength to remove himself out of this situation to try and find a willing participant in bed tonight, that woman would not have come even remotely close to Lizzy. He wanted her, more than he thought he had ever wanted anything before in his entire life.

What would come inevitably next was more than understood. Red leaned into her, pushing both of their bodies forward off the couch as he made to stand. The weight of her body was hardly what he considered burdensome in the slightest, but still, he reached down and grasped both hands around the back of her bare thighs to support her as he rose to his full height. The muscles in his own arms strained to hold her tight as he walked while her arms delicately wrapped around his neck, their lips still intermingled and smacking together. As he stopped kissing her to see where he was going, resting his chin against her hairline as he stepped up the stairs, their breathing synchronized in harsh, needy gasps.

Once Red managed to get her into the guest bedroom, he jammed the side of his back into the doorknob by mischance as he brushed against it, muttering out a low oath as she clung to him with her body, her lips pressing short, soft kisses around his throat.

It was happening, and they had reached that fatal point of no return. And good heavens, may Sam forgive him for this all-too-enticing sin.

Hope this one was passable and still in character despite the content. Next chapter will be M likely for obvious reasoning. Also, I apologies for any mistakes or incorrect word in places.