“You realize I brought you along so you’d like what I bought and visit my lair.”
“I can’t believe you’d do such a thing,” she said, but she was smiling.
He leaned over and lifted her so she lay flat. He lowered himself on top of her. “Now look where we are. You’re living with me, and we’re about to have couch sex on my new furniture.”
“Our furniture. And we’ve already inaugurated this piece like we have allourfurniture.”
“We never had sex on the bedroom dresser. And you’re right, it’s our furniture. There’s nothing I don’t want you a part of in my life.”
She grinned, because Bran had so completely made that evident in all the little things he did each day to make her happy. “The reason we didn’t have sex on the dresser is because it’s physically impossible.”
His mouth twisted to the side. “What about up against the dresser? I could stand on my hands and…”
She dug her fingers into his side, and he squirmed and grabbed her hands, pinning them above her head. “Knock it off!” she said.
He kissed her. “Say you’ll try or I’m going to tickle you while you’re incapacitated.”
Ireland laughed, but she broke free because he wasn’t holding her very tightly. She protected her ticklish spots. “What if I want to stand on my hands?”
His eyes widened and he was suddenly standing and pulling her up. “Let’s do this.”
Ireland giggled all the way up the stairs and to the bedroom she shared with Bran.
The dresser sex was a no-go. Bran stood on his hands—he’d insisted—but as soon as she touched his erection, he’d nearly toppled like a tree.
He’d picked her up and carried her to the bed, where they made love over and over.
Forever together.
