Page 107 of A Dangerous Kind of Love

“It’s perfect,” I say.

“Good. Let’s go get you dressed.”

I smile and follow him out of the bathroom. I grab a pair of pink cotton panties and big neon green T-shirt that barely covers my ass. I glance over my shoulder and catch him watching, a smirk playing on his lips as he drops his towel without a shred of modesty. His cock is soft, but I still stare at it. He bends to scoop his boxers from the floor where they landed earlier, sliding them up his thighs.

He straightens, adjusting the waistband low on his hips, and extends his hand again. I take it and let him pull me toward the bed. Sliding under the covers feels like sinking into a cloud. He settles on his back, one arm crooked behind his head, and I don’t hesitate. I curl right into his chest. His free arm drapes over my shoulders, pulling me closer.

God, I feel warm.

“You happy?” he asks.

“So fucking happy.”

His beard tickles my forehead as he presses a kiss there.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Now, sleep, Katie.”

I nuzzle closer, eyes drifting shut, letting the rhythm of his breathing take me under.

Chapter 39

Michael

I’ve been up for hours dealing with the fallout from Donnelly’s death. Calls, cleanup, people asking questions they don’t need answers to. It doesn’t stop. It never does.

I left Katie in bed, tangled in the blankets. She held onto me all night as if letting go wasn’t an option. I didn’t sleep much. I laid there with her pressed against me, listening to her breathe, and letting myself have it for a few hours.

It’s becoming a pattern—her reaching for me and me staying. I don’t know how the hell that’s supposed to work when she lives here and my estate’s thirty miles out. I can’t stay here every night, and it’s too soon to tell her to move in. That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it.

She gave herself to me last night, and finding out I’m the only one who’s ever been inside her. That fucking does something to me.

She’s an angel. Feral as hell, but still an angel. And she’s mine.

“Hey.”

I look up from where I’m leaning back against her kitchen counter.

“Morning, Doll.”

She walks straight into me, pressing in without a word. I huff a quiet laugh and set my coffee down so I can hold her. I lift her easily, and she tucks her face against my neck.

I move to put her back on her feet, but she tightens her hold. “No. Don’t. Take me to the couch.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Apparently, I’ve spoiled her.

“Sit down,” she says.

“You’re bossy.”

But I do it anyway, and she stays tucked into me.

“You’re cozy,” she says, ignoring me.

“Am I?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she mumbles.