Page 110 of Dangerously
I fumble with the keys as I unlock the front door. All I can think about is Fallon naked. And wet. And moaning my name.
A reconnection forged from a Christmas miracle.
“Where is Aisling?” she asks just as we step inside.
“At my cousin’s, dreaming of nutcrackers and sugar plum fairies, I’m sure.” I flick on the hall light and then pin her against the door.
“There has been a black hole inside me since the moment you left.” I slide my hands down her soft coat and rest them on the thin belt.
“Me too. Think three time’s the charm?”
I flick my eyes up to hers. “In Ireland, three is a lucky number.”
“Then maybe this time it will work.” She grins coyly.
“There is no ‘maybe’ in this equation.” I untie the belt and spread open her coat, revealing the sexiest emerald green satin and black lace I have ever laid eyes on.
I groan gutturally with appreciation. “I must have been a very good boy this year. Santa knows how much I like the dangerous ones.”
“Dangerousone.” Fallon slips her coat off her shoulders and lets it fall to the floor.
“Dangerousone,” I repeat because she’s right. There is only one. There’s only one woman as dangerous as her. And that copperhead killer has always been all mine.
“Declan, take me to bed.” Fallon wraps her arms around my neck.
“And then what?” I toy with her, dragging the tip of my tongue along her lower lip.
“Talk dirty to me, then tell me how much you fucking love me.”
I beam. “Christmas wish granted, Poppy.”
The End
