“Impossible woman,” he whispered into my ear, pressing a kiss just beneath it and making me squeal.
“Come on, Clark, feed your impossible woman,” I said with a laugh, and we headed downstairs.
And after the pizza, we didn’t even wait to find a beach. We just put the convertible top up and fucked just off the highway. That’s how this romance novel ends. And when my librarian pushed deep inside me and whispered the naughtiest, filthiest things imaginable about what he wanted to do to me?
It really was my own happily-ever-after.