Six Hot Single Dads. Lynne Marshall
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“It’s called palmistry, and it’s been popular in the UK for ages. My great-great-grandmother was a member of the Chirological Society of Great Britain.” His brow furrowed with feigned seriousness. “They were very concerned with preserving the art of palmistry and keeping charlatans from abusing it.”
“This is literally the last thing I ever expected from you, Marcus Chambers.”
He smiled, his eyes connecting with hers, exposing her vulnerabilities. “Maybe you aren’t as perceptive as you think you are.”
“I’m incredibly perceptive, and I perceive that you’re just very good at keeping things to yourself.”
He looked down again and softly traced another line on her hand. “This is the head line. Yours says that you pick up on other people’s feelings. You sympathize with them.”
“See? Perceptive. I told you so.”
“It also means that you change your mind a lot. I’m not sure that’s the best quality. It can make things difficult for the people in your life.”
“It depends on how you see it. Some people might say that means I’m flexible.”
“Your heart line is split in two.” He shifted to the deep crease closest to her fingers.
“So you can tell that my heart has been broken before?” Her breaths came quicker. Could he see that she was hurting? That she was lonely? That she needed love?
“Actually, that means you have a habit of putting other people’s feelings first. You should concentrate on what you want, Ash.”
That was the first time he’d called her by her nickname, and God, she loved the familiarity of it. He deviated from the lines and swirled gentle circles in her palm. She sucked in a breath. He’s killing me. How a man could command anything he wanted with the simple brush of his fingers was beyond her. She knew only that Marcus could.
“Your skin is so soft,” he muttered with a sexy undertone of gravel in his voice. “I could touch it forever.”
“I could let you forever.” That was the truth. It felt so perfect.
He shifted in his seat and his jacket fell open—just enough for her to see that he was as turned on by this situation as she was. For the first moment of the entire night, she felt as though she could relax. No man changed his mind in that particular state. Or at least, not that she’d ever experienced.
Mercifully, the car turned in to the parking garage of their building. It was if she’d been wrenched from a fabulous dream, only to wake up and realize that real life was even better. She cleared her throat, smoothed her hair, thanked the driver. She hadn’t scrambled out of a car so fast in her entire life. They hurried inside. She was so relieved the elevator was empty.
Now that things were going the way she’d hoped, she wanted it to be perfect. “Did you, um, want to come over to my place?” she asked.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he replied, taking her hand, looking at her with a smile that said he wanted to consume her. She was more than ready to be breakfast, lunch and dinner.
“Do you need to check in with the babysitter or something?”
“My sister is watching Lila. She’s fine.”
The elevator dinged and she took his hand, rushing to her door. Once inside, she dropped her handbag on the foyer table, and he very quickly removed his jacket and left it there, as well.
She took his hand and placed it on her shoulder, using his thumb to push off the strap, eager for more than his suit coat to end up on the table.
“Well, then,” he said, smirking, wrapping his arm around her waist and coaxing the second strap off with his other hand.
“You told me in the limo to concentrate on what I want. I’m following orders.” The light of the city filtered in through the windows behind him, outlining his broad frame, casting shadows on his strong jaw and down the contours of his neck.
“You are so beautiful,” he said, caressing her cheek. “I can’t wait to see the rest of you.”
“Me, too. I want to find out if that calendar was false advertising or if you really do look that good without a shirt.”
He laughed. “So you really did look?”
“Yes, Marcus. I did.”
* * *
Ashley popped up onto her tiptoes and raised her arms up onto his shoulders. She kissed him with surprising force. He loved that about her—it was like kissing a firecracker dressed up in dynamite. She was a bundle of pure excitement and enthusiasm. She reminded him that he was alive. He couldn’t have stopped drinking in her life force if he’d wanted to. He’d asked himself in the limo if this was a good idea, but he was tired of that question. She wanted him. He wanted her. They were two grown people, capable of making their own decisions. Thinking was for later.
Their lips mashed together eagerly, tongues wound around each other in an endless spiral. He held her flat against him, letting her feel exactly how hard he was, how much he wanted her. He reached for the zipper at the back of her dress and dragged it down. Her breath caught as his hand explored her silky back, his fingers drawing up and down her spine, dipping lower on each pass until he reached the lacy fabric of what felt like incredibly skimpy panties. He had to see for himself what that was all about.
“Can we go into your bedroom?” he asked, nearly breathless.
“Yes.” She grabbed his hand, holding up her dress with the other, and leading him down the hall she’d traipsed through in a towel at the beginning of their night. The towel. Could he convince her a shower was in order at some point? His mind churned with possibilities—all of the things he wanted to do to her, the things he wanted her to do to him.
They arrived at her room, and although it was difficult to see much in the dim light, there was a massive bed and that was enough.
She turned to him and let the dress fall to the floor. His eyes couldn’t take in the landscape of her beautiful body fast enough. Her slender legs. The generous curve of her hips. Her gorgeous, pert—and naked—breasts.
“No bra?” He cupped her velvety skin gently with his hands, watching her reaction as he dragged his thumbs across her nipples, the skin tightening beneath his touch. Everything below his waist responded in kind.
“Not in that dress, no. I don’t really need it.” She moaned quietly as he continued to roam with his hands, caressing her velvety skin. “We need to get you out of these clothes.”
He’d been so lost in the wonder of her naked body that he hadn’t even realized he was still mostly dressed. He yanked off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, watching as Ashley’s nimble fingers unlatched his belt and she dropped his pants to the floor. Now all there was between them was her panties, his boxers and the willingness to set aside disagreements for a much more enjoyable neighborly meeting.
He watched as she flattened her hands against his chest and began moving down his torso