Her Christmas SEAL: Excerpt 3 !

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“I got to tell you something,” he said, his thumb making another pass over my hipbone. I froze, trying not to pant. How could one little touch set me off? What was wrong with me?

“You belong with me,” he continued. “Or I belong with you. Both. You picked the wrong man before, and I want a shot.”

Rub. Stroke. Sweet, sweet pressure on that one small, not-enough spot where we were connected. Somehow, I found my voice while my synapses misfired and melted into a stupid puddle of goo. “What do you think I am, a piñata or a shooting range?”

“I think you’re my Christmas present,” he growled, shifting closer. “I think I’ve been waiting a damned long time to open you up.”

“I got to tell you something,” he said, his thumb making another pass over my hipbone. I froze, trying not to pant. How could one little touch set me off? What was wrong with me?

“You belong with me,” he continued. “Or I belong with you. Both. You picked the wrong man before, and I want a shot.”

Rub. Stroke. Sweet, sweet pressure on that one small, not-enough spot where we were connected. Somehow, I found my voice while my synapses misfired and melted into a stupid puddle of goo. “What do you think I am, a piñata or a shooting range?”

“I think you’re my Christmas present,” he growled, shifting closer. “I think I’ve been waiting a damned long time to open you up.”

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~ by Anne Marsh on November 25, 2015.

 
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