Private Practice (Private Pleasures 1)

Her brain refused to cooperate with her vocal chords. He simply smiled down at her, patiently.

“Mine?” she finally whispered.

“Yeah, yours. So, you see…” He placed the book on her entryway table and caught her wrists, pulling her in close. “It doesn’t make much sense for me to practice with anyone else.”

Joy surged through her and swept her anxiety and uncertainty away. She hugged him tight, reveling in the feel of his arms around her, the warmth of his chest under her cheek. When she pulled back, she looked him in the eye.

“You’re right, it doesn’t. Especially since you don’t need any practice at all. You already have my heart—probably have since the first night you showed up here with lipstick on your shirt and a bullet in your butt. But I was too fixated on my stupid plan for happily ever after to see the truth right in front of me. You’re the man I want. The man I love. You’re my happily ever—”

He cut her off with a kiss that made chapter 2 of the Wild Woman guide seem as exciting as a handshake. When her vision went gray at the edges and her head spun—either from the effects of the kiss or the need for oxygen—he lifted his head.

“I love you, Ellie. I know I’m not the upstanding Prince Charming you always dreamed of—”

“The thing about Prince Charming is, he doesn’t exist. He’s a fantasy for little girls.” Now she lost her battle with the tears. They welled and flowed, and probably tracked mascara down her face, but she really didn’t care because what she wanted to say was way more important. “You’re the real thing—a grown woman’s fantasy—sexy, unpredictable, a little bit of a bad boy, but decent to the core. You’re everything I want. You’re everything I need. I’ve outgrown fairy tales.”

Tyler hauled her up against him and cocked one dark eyebrow. “What about the Wild Woman guide? You outgrown that, too?”

“Um, I don’t know. Why?” The question ended in a squeal when he swept her into his arms and strode down the hall toward her bedroom.

“We never knocked out chapter 9. I believe I mentioned it’s one of my personal favorites.”

She gave him her best seductive smolder, despite the fact that between the tears and the mascara she probably looked like a raccoon. “Does it drive you to your knees?”

“You drive me to my knees. Always will.”

He dropped her on the bed and kissed her again. “I’m planning to spend the rest of my life proving it to you,” he said against her lips.

She laughed and pulled him down to her. “Start now.”