Читать книгу Six Hot Single Dads - Lynne Marshall - Страница 14

Six

“We should go.” Ashley gazed up at Marcus, his physical presence making it damn near impossible to think. So instead, she relied on what her body told her to do. Her only honest desire at that moment was to be alone with him. Either he’d act as if the kiss had been a mistake, in which case she definitely didn’t want anyone within earshot. Or he’d want more. In that case, she wanted a clear, horizontal landing spot. She might never catch him in this mood again.

“You don’t have to stay?” he asked.

She shook her head. She knew she’d catch flack for leaving early, but she didn’t care—he’d rendered her unable to think through the ramifications of anything. “No. I don’t want to answer questions about the kiss. It’s my party and I’ve had enough.” Her arm hooked in his, punctuating her declaration.

“Right, then.”

They made their exit, Ashley feeling as antsy as she’d felt in a long time, but also loving the feeling of stealing away with Marcus. As guest of honor, Ashley had earned the right to have her limo waiting outside the hotel. They were whisked away into the New York City night, where true dark did not exist—too many lights, too much commotion.

Sitting this close to him, the tingle of his lips still on hers, it was all she could do to remain a lady and wait for a sign, some indication of what he was thinking. Her breaths were shallow as if she couldn’t get enough oxygen no matter how much of it she sucked in. She glanced over at him, and he acknowledged her with half a smile.

“Some night, huh?” he asked.

She scoured her brain for something impossibly sexy to say but couldn’t come up with much. “It ended better than I thought it would.”

He laughed quietly, but she wasn’t in the mood for him taking her answer as comedy. Silently but deliberately, she planted her left hand on the seat between them, palm up, asking for his touch without a single word. She wanted him to look at her, but his sights were set on her hand. Was this the right thing to do? It felt as if it was, but maybe that was the influence of his kiss. Her heart, having no clue as to how he’d respond, chose to canter with all the grace of a newborn filly.

After several agonizing moments, he reached for her hand, but he didn’t actually take it. Instead, his fingers caressed the cup of her palm, back and forth.

“This is the life line,” he said, tracing the one that started near her thumb and curved down to the heel of her hand.

Her normally restless self was as enthralled as could be by his touch, which sent excitement bubbling up inside her. She turned to him. Wherever any of this led, she wanted it, but they had blocks to go until they’d be back to their building. The thought of waiting was an excruciating one, but she also knew better than to start things in the limousine. Keep your clothes on, Ash.

“If I remember correctly, yours says that you’re someone people count on in difficult times,” he said.

She liked that. She wanted people to be able to rely on her, especially her parents, even when she felt as though she couldn’t keep her own life together. But were these words really coming out of Marcus’s mouth? “You know palm reading?”

“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 with delicate kisses, but the clock on the bedside table caught his eye. He’d promised he would be home before midnight, and the time had nearly arrived. Joanna had told him to stay out, but guilt began to eat at him.

Ashley climbed onto the bed and curled a finger with a sly grin on her face. “Get over here, Chambers.”

Her spark was enough to make him do hundreds of things he’d told himself he wouldn’t do. He stretched out next to her, and his hands roved over her smooth stomach. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her breast, then sucked her nipple softly. Ashley arched her back and practically purred. “That feels so good,” she muttered, as if that “so” had fifty o’s. He flicked his tongue while he inched his hand to the waistband of those tiny panties and began tugging them past her hips.

Ashley lifted her bottom off the bed. “Touch me, Marcus. Please. I’m dying.” She squirmed beneath his touch as he slipped his fingers between her legs and found her warm apex. “Yes. There.”

She rolled toward him and kissed him recklessly as he caressed that tight bundle of nerves. He sensed the tension in her body quickly, punctuated by short, raspy breaths. He’d forgotten what it was like to have a woman at his mercy, to be able to give her pleasure that made it feel as though he was invincible. “Is that what you like, Ash? Is that how you like it?”

“Yes,” she nearly growled. “And talk to me, Marcus. I like a man who talks to me in bed.”

It was not a request. It was a demand, and it made him that much more determined to make her come like she never had before. He lightened his touch—teasing, toying. “I’ll talk as long as you play along.”

“Is everything a negotiation with you?” She shifted, resting her upper thigh between his legs, creating sublime friction between them. “Because I’d be willing to concede a lot right now.”

Her quick wit only turned him on more. He had to focus on her pleasure or he’d go sailing off the cliff in no time. “No bargaining. Just tell me what you want.”

“Circles. With your hand. And don’t be gentle.”

Her words made everything in his body tighten, and he obliged her, upping the pressure, moving in steady rotations with his fingers.

She tilted her head back, pulling away from his kiss while pressing her pelvis hard into his hand. “Yes. Just like that,” she gasped. Every breath she took ended in a whimper, growing louder, stronger, more insistent. Then she arched her back and froze, calling out, grabbing his hand and insistently stilling it against her body.

As soon as she caught her breath, she sought his lips, kissing him deeply. She pushed him to his back and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. It was a good thing he still had his boxers on. This much touching was too much to take. “Tell me you have a condom,” she said.

“You don’t?”

“I don’t. I was taking a break from men, remember? I told you that on our first date.”

“I assumed that was a metaphorical break. Not a real one.”

She shook her head and kissed him again. “Oh, trust me. It was a real break. I haven’t been with another man in months. So please tell me you have a condom or else one of us is going to have to run to the drug store on the corner and buy some.”

“No. I have some...” His voice trailed off. He had indeed purchased a box after they arrived in New York, after Joanna had given him the speech about taking chances and opening his heart. “It’s just that they’re across the hall.” Across the hall. Just like his entire life was across the hall. His conscience told him that’s where he belonged at that moment, not having sex with a woman he knew wasn’t the one.

Stop it. He forced himself to take a deep breath. He had to collect his thoughts. He had a gorgeous woman in his arms, one he’d wanted for months. A deeply passionate woman who was making him feel like the man he used to be. Except the man he used to be had made a lot of mistakes. That man had gone through five years with blinders on, ignoring what was wrong in his failing marriage and forging ahead, pushing, trying to will what he wanted into being.

Was he doing that again? Convincing himself that making love to Ashley would be okay simply because he wanted to? That was such a selfish attitude, it nearly made him sick. He’d sworn he’d never be like that again.

“I can’t do this,” he said, disbelieving the words as they came from his mouth. He wanted her so badly he could taste it, taste her, as sweetness on his lips. An unforgettable sweetness. And then there was the tide that had engulfed the lower half of his body. How would he just ignore that? It didn’t matter. He had to.

Ashley looked down at him with those eyes—sincere and genuine. “I don’t understand.”

“We both know where this is going, and I can’t do that. I can’t have a casual affair. Not as a dad. Not with Lila in my life. This is about much more than me.”

“I wasn’t aware we were having an affair.” She rolled off him and grabbed the covers, clutching them to her chest.

He shook his head. “I can’t just sleep with you one time. What kind of man would that make me?”

“Who said anything about just sleeping together one time? Why can’t we take it slow? Four hours ago I was pretty sure you still hated me. At least give me a chance to catch up. You aren’t the only one coming off a bad breakup.”

Everything she’d just said was precisely why this wouldn’t work. She didn’t get it. “I wouldn’t characterize my failed marriage as a bad breakup.” It had been far worse than that. His failed marriage had nearly destroyed him and it remained to be seen what lasting effects it would have on Lila. He grabbed his trousers from the floor and put them on in a hurry, trying to ignore his physical agony. “There is no slow for me, Ashley. There’s more at stake here than a tryst. You’re a smart, beautiful, successful woman, and somewhere out there is the perfect man for you. I’m just not him.” He pushed his arms through his sleeves, only bothering with a few of the buttons on his shirt.

“But we’re still getting to know each other. I like you, in spite of the way you act sometimes. And I think you like me, but you’re making a lot of assumptions about what’s a good idea and what you think I want.”

“I didn’t pull these ideas out of thin air. You told me during our first date that your last boyfriend left because you were unwilling to get married and become a mom. I realize that’s serious stuff to talk about in the early days, but that’s the reality of my situation. There’s no getting around it.”

“You didn’t even let me tell you the whole story that night. I would get married if it was the right situation, but let’s not forget that you’ve spent much of the last several months acting as though you don’t even like me.”

Marcus knew his behavior hadn’t been the best, but he’d never done anything that wasn’t completely justified. “And it’s clear that the situation between us isn’t right. We’re attracted to each other, but we’re otherwise opposites. I’m serious. You’re not.”

“Serious? My whole life has been about serious.”

“Really? A television show about matchmaking, intermingled with shopping for apartment furniture and dismissing the horrible behavior of your contractor? We have very different ideas of what serious means.” Even in the dim light of the room, it was clear how badly his words had hurt her. He didn’t like hurting a woman, but maybe it was for the best. It would make it easier to stay away from her.

Wrapping herself in the sheets, she hopped off the bed. “Fine. You know what? You’re right. We’re wrong for each other. Just go.”

“Good. Then we agree.”

“For once we agree.”