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“You make it sound like I’m a rabid wolf.” “I was thinking something less macho. Like a squirrel. With plague fleas.” When I grin at his scowl, he stands and stares down at me. “You know what you need?” “Yes. A hundred million dollars and a button on my bedside table that gives you a shock every time you ask me a stupid rhetorical question.” He says darkly, “No. A spanking.” My breath catches. My stomach flips. I stare up at him, my mouth suddenly dry and my heartbeat galloping. He reaches out and takes my chin firmly in his hand. He runs his thumb over my lips. Eyes hot, he murmurs, “You like that idea.” I manage to eke out a no that doesn’t convince either of us. In a throaty, sexy-as-hell voice, Declan says, “Aye, lass. You like it as much as I do. You like being forced to give
- Writer
