Page 36 of The Hotshot's Prize

His mouth curves. “I take you home. Strip this dress off inch by inch. And go for round two.”

“You better.”

He leans in close, his lips brushing my ear. “You won’t sleep tonight, wild girl. I’m going to remind you exactly who you belong to.”

I shiver. “Yours.”

“Always.”

He steals one last kiss, slow, deep, and filthy enough to make me dizzy, then he smacks my ass lightly as I walk toward the door.

“Go melt their hearts, superstar,” he calls after me. “You already own mine.”

~The End