Scrooge and the Single Girl. Christine Rimmer

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style="font-size:15px;">      “Help me out. God, do I need it.”

      She pulled back again, intending to explain to him that he really had to get a little more specific or she didn’t see how there was much she could do. But before she could say anything, he lowered his mouth to hers.

      Good googly-moogly, what a kiss!

      He almost burned her lips off. It honestly felt as if steam was coming out of her ears.

      When he finally let her come up for air, she realized that her pjs had melted away. She was every bit as naked as he was.

      Only a dream, she reminded herself. Only a dream. Enjoy, enjoy…

      He guided her back onto the bed, kissing her as they went down. Somehow, it seemed he was kissing her everywhere, every part of her body, all at the same time—her mouth, her neck, lower, and lower still.

      Omigoodness. Yes, yes, yes!

      His lips were everywhere, all at once. And his hands, well, they were magic hands. He touched every inch of her, found all her most secret, most vulnerable places.

      She moaned and she cried out, closing her eyes….

      When she looked again, they were joined together. The bed, the room, everything was gone—everything but the two of them. They moved as one, floating in some warm, soft, enveloping space in the middle of nowhere, all wrapped up in each other, arms and legs entwined. She felt stunned by her own intense pleasure. Everything in that warm place seemed to glow. They glowed, Jilly and her fantasy lover, rolling and rippling, rising and falling, forever and ever….

      Jilly closed her eyes again.

      And they were back in his bedroom, lying contentedly side-by-side. He captured her hand, brought it to his mouth and pressed those wonderful lips of his to the back of it. She actually felt his breath on her skin.

      Without stopping to think, she did it again, let her eyes drift shut.

      And that time, when she opened them, she found herself lying in the bed upstairs, dressed in her fuzzy pjs once more.

      Will had not come with her. Sweet old Mavis was tucking her in, bending close, smiling slightly, blue eyes mysterious and maybe a little bit sad.

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