Johnny Angel Read Free

was never going to make it through a whole night of this. Let alone a week. Maybe, just maybe, he’d take her back to a good memory in the past and it would spark something to life and they could both go on about their business?
                  Yeah, he knew he had his head firmly buried in cotton candy clouds, but he had to believe this was all going to work out. He’d help her live her life with Christmas and love in her heart, and be on about his business.
                  Of course, when she emerged from the bedroom, his hopes melted just like that same spun sugar did in the rain.
                  She was still wearing that damned t-shirt, but she’d put on a bra which had enhanced her cleavage and hourglass figure. Her jeans had to have been painted on with only a brush and prayer.  But this time, it was her mouth that he was sure had to be a sin. Her lips had been painted the color of Red Hots, the little candy used for buttons on gingerbread men. Which made him think about her undoing his buttons with her teeth.
                  She immediately noticed his scrutiny. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” She narrowed her eyes at him.
                  He was quick to shake his head. Maybe that would rattle this foolishness out of his belfry. “Nothing. You ready?”
                  “I guess. How do we do this? Do I hold your hand?”
                  You could hold something. Damn it. Stop it, Gallo. Get a grip on yourself. Yeah, a grip on yourself…  Who was the dumbass who’d trusted him with this woman’s Fate?
                  Her question was actually a valid one. This was his first time out of Purgatory. He’d done the flight simulations, but he’d never actually moved through the stream of time.
                  She answered the question for him by wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her delicious body tight against him. “I don’t want you to drop me.”
                  “Close your eyes,” he advised.
                  Then, finally, something went right. The magick ignited instantly and the world around them was smeared away by unseen hands. Colors flowed like spinning too fast on the Merry Go Round.
                  But when the strains of Burl Ives’ Have A Holly Jolly Christmas echoed in his ears, they were unceremoniously ejected from the stream and hurled to the snow-covered ground.
                  It would figure he’d land right on top of her and conveniently, or not so conveniently, between her thighs. He was still very much aroused by her previous, albeit unwitting, display.
                  She smelled of cinnamon and gingerbread. Scents he hated, yet somehow on her, they made his mouth water.
                  Sofia was so soft beneath him; her curves making him wish he wasn’t supposed to be the good guy. But as a self-admitted bastard, he wondered how far he could push the line before he crossed it.
                  Her crimson lips parted and she drew in a shaky breath. Her sooty lashes fluttered closed and that was all the invitation he needed.
                  Nothing in the world could have kept him from those velvety red lips in that moment.
              Except the familiar slam of a screen door and a woman’s voice calling his name. Those sounds echoed into the afterlife with him and not a day passed that he hadn’t heard them clanging in his consciousness like a gong.
                  “Damn it,” he grumbled and untangled himself.
                  “What happened? This doesn’t look like my life.” She brushed herself off and got to her feet.
                  “No, it’s mine. Look, I’ll have it fixed in just a minute.” Hopefully before—nope, too late.
                  The woman screamed his