Page 60 of A Dangerous Kind of Love

“Shit.”

“Oh my God,” he says, already reaching for me, hand gentle against the back of my head.

I push him off and sit up.

“I’m fine. Let’s go to bed. We both fell asleep.”

I stand and reach for him. He looks half asleep, but his hand finds mine, anyway. I pull him down the hall.

He sinks onto the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes, completely out of it. I grab the nightgown he bought me and slip into the bathroom. When I come back, he hasn’t moved an inch.

“Hey, old man. You alright?”

I step between his knees and lift his chin, forcing his eyes to mine. He is so tired.

“You need to go brush your teeth,” I say, my fingers lingering on his cheek.

“Yes, ma’am.” He takes my wrist and kisses the inside of it.

“You snore.”

“I do not.”

“I know it’s been a while since you’ve had a woman in your bed, but you absolutely do.”

He narrows his eyes. “So what’s that mean? You making me sleep on the couch?”

I lean into him, and his hands settle on my hips. “No. I just have to make sure I fall asleep before you.”

Then I kiss him.

He smiles into my mouth. “Ass.”

I step back.

“Go brush your teeth and come kiss me in my bed.”

“Whatever you want,” he says.

I watch him disappear into the ensuite before climbing into bed and pulling the covers up around me. For the second night in a row, I get to fall asleep next to a strong, massive, extremely attractive man.

He comes out with no shirt on, only his boxers, and my brain immediately tells my face to act normal. He climbs in beside me and wastes no time. One hand finds the back of my neck while the other pulls me closer. His kiss is hot, slow, and I feel it exactly where I shouldn’t—between my legs.

“Katie,” he murmurs, his breath ragged against my ear.

“Mm-hmm.”

His lips claim mine once more, before he eases back enough to meet my eyes.

“I want to fuck you.”

“I know,” I whisper, leaning in to capture his mouth again. Our tongues tangle, slick and insistent, as his fingers slip beneath the hem of my nightgown.

They trace up my skin, finding my breast. A gasp escapes me when he rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, the pinch sending sparks racing through me.

“Michael,” I breathe.

“Hmm,” he hums, his lips trailing fire down the curve of my neck.