Daddy's Secret Touch
His expression remained calm, polite, as if he weren’t secretly touching me while my mother planned their wedding.
“Tell me about yourself, Lila,” Marcus said smoothly, voice deep and authoritative. The same voice that had commanded me to come for him last night. “Your mom says you’re in college. What are you studying?”
“Communications,” I muttered, trying to ignore the way his foot slid higher, tracing the sensitive skin behind my knee. “I want to work in marketing or PR someday.”
“Impressive,” he replied, eyes locking onto mine. “You strike me as someone with a lot of potential. Strong. Passionate.” The last word carried a hidden weight that made my nipples tighten against the soft fabric