Six Hot Single Dads. Lynne Marshall

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       “You believe all of that business about there being a true love for everyone? Or is it just for your show?”

      Funny, but no one else had ever asked Ashley that question. “I do believe it.”

      Marcus took a look around the dance floor. All eyes on them. “I’m tempted to give them a show.”

      His rich, buttery accent was working its way into her. “What did you have in mind?”

      “If we do it, I think we start slowly, give them a taste of what’s to come.”

      “Of course. We wouldn’t want to go too fast.” Except that she was thinking about nothing but going very fast, away from this party, away with him.

      “I could start by kissing your cheek, whispering in your ear that you look beautiful tonight.” He did exactly that as he said it, his warm lips on her face, his hot breath against her ear, skimming the slope of her neck.

      Finally. A kiss. His approach was commanding and entirely self-assured, his grasp on her so firm—she wasn’t sure she’d ever been kissed so masterfully.

      When they came up for air, her head was in the clouds. Flashes of light surrounded them. So this was what it was like to see fireworks.