Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

She couldn't believe where she was, what she'd done, and who she'd done it with. Asher Downey had just rocked her world. What a way to wake up. Marlowe wanted to do it again.

It was her turn to watch Asher unravel. He wasn't finished, yet. Well, neither was she. Making love wasn't the turn-off she'd expected. She didn't feel dirty or used. Her body was humming, truly vibrating. All over. She'd never felt so alive or loved. Connected, not just physically, but emotionally. Spiritually. Suddenly, she was a three-dimensional being, not an invisible nobody. She had wings, and she wanted to fly again and again.

He was glowing again, and that sleepy smile on his face was turning her on. All he had to do was lie there, keep smiling with those simmering green eyes, and let her do the work.

She'd finally undressed him. His clothes were on the floor, and he was as naked as she was. She pulled back to view her very own nude man. Asher's body was as hard as it looked. Running her palms up the sides of his ribcage and over his chest, she discovered that where she was soft and round, he was more like living granite and rock-hard muscle. Not chiseled as much as crafted by his career choice. Honed to perfection by the gear he'd carried when on duty. No tattoos as far as she could see, but this was just his front side. She couldn't wait to see his flip side.

Marlowe ran her hands over the crisp hairs sprinkled across his chest. Tiny sparks of electricity radiated from him to her fingertips. Touching him was electrifying. Asher was broad-shouldered and long-legged, but that chest. Made a girl want to lick every inch of her masterpiece.

Slowly gliding down over that startlingly hard cock, she closed her eyes at the intense pleasure of sliding him inside of her. He was so big. So long. And he came with ridges. Nice ridges she was learning how to use to her benefit, and where they felt best if she rubbed just right… "There," she hissed, wriggling him into the tremendously sensitive erogenous zone of hers. "Yes, Asher. Ah-h-h-h… right… there."

"You like that?" he asked gruffly, working his hips, too. Letting her ride to her heart's content. He was incredibly handsome. His eyes had grown big and black. His focus entirely on her. His fingers clutching her rump like he'd never let her go.

Marlowe nodded. "It hurt last time, but I kinda lost my mind and got caught up in making love with you." Of being loved. Every bit of her body and soul had turned desperate and greedy. She couldn't have stopped if she'd tried. Like now. Her heart was throbbing through her body. Her toes curled. She dug her fingertips into Asher's magnificent chest and—

Asher was everywhere. Pounding into her. Holding her tight. Shifting that hand to her breast. Sucking her nipples. The effervescent firestorm in her blood commenced again. Her overheated body clenched down on Asher. Clamped tight. All by itself. "Whoa. Yes. Asher, yes!"

With one last furious thrust, his body bowed, and he growled, "Marlowe. Damn, yes!"

She could feel him explode inside of her. His hand was hot and heavy on her breast. Possessive. Pulsating. Squeezing and almost letting go. Then squeezing again. Marlowe liked his hand on her. Her man was banked coals, and she was the breath who'd set him on fire. Her. With just her body and her hands. That was why he glowed. She'd made him happy.

Asher curled his torso up into hers and pulled her down against him. "God, I love you, Marlowe. Don't go back to Afghanistan. Stay with me. Please, just stay."

Her body went lax, melted against the delicious wall of steaming muscle beneath her. Breathing in a deep breath of sheer contentment, she nuzzled her nose into all she held dear. Marlowe hadn't ever felt binding emotions like these before.

"I love you," she murmured, inhaling the earthy scent of her lover into her heart. Absorbing his sweaty goodness. Wishing she could climb inside of Asher and live there the rest of her life. "I've made up my mind and I'm staying."

His arm tightened around her. He kissed her head. That made her smile. She met him halfway. Their mouths locked, their tongues licked and tasted. His chest heaved a magnificent sigh, lifting her. Asher was happy, and Marlowe had found what she'd been searching for all of her life. This man. This battered warrior. She wasn't letting him go.

Until someone with a death wish knocked on his front door. Grumpily, Marlowe eased away from her lover. Squee! She had a lover! Running to the bathroom, she took quick care of business and pulled on a fresh tank top and yoga pants, courtesy of Kelsey. By then Asher had elevated that awesome chaise lounge and was sitting up.

Hmmm. Marlowe needed to know how to do that.

He looked pleased with himself. Her heart stalled. Why was she answering the door instead of running back to bed and snuggling Asher for the rest of the day? Oh, yeah. The door.

He blew her a kiss and a sexy, "Hurry back, honey."

"If this is Beau, I'm gonna kill him."

Jerking the door open, she was prepared to blast whoever was on Asher's front step to smithereens. She couldn't have been more wrong.

Marlowe stepped out and closed the door behind her. "Mom?"