Bea heard the clang of the bell she set over the door letting her know that someone entered her store. She placed the homemade candle for her client in her store's mailing box and sealed it shut.

"Sorry we're closed," she said picking up the package she left her office then placed it on the display case. She opened her schedule book, pen at the ready and said, "but I can schedule you in for next week."

"Didn't know a psychic," the smooth velvety voice sent shivers down her spine, "was so busy."

Her head snapped up. The man standing before her was the same man from the bar the other night. Up close he every bit as fine. Chiseled jaw with a scruffy stubble beard she ached to feel between her thighs. Dark brows over laser beam intense eyes which were currently roaming up and down her body. She felt it like a caress and it made her knees weak.

Bea didn't want to think what would've happened if she didn't have the glass counter to hold onto. Embarrassing herself by falling flat on her ass witht he they she was eyefucking last Friday.

"You," she whispered as she let her eyes travel over his body. He was wearing a dark suit, navy in color, that fit over his body like it was specially tailor made to show off every muscular inch of him. The green tie highlighted his hazel eyes, which she now saw also had flecks of green and blue.

"You," he acknowledged obviously remembering her. Considering his abrupt departure Bea had thought he wasn't interested in her. Guess she was wrong. And she couldn't have been more happier about it.

Her lips curled up in a smile. Splaying her hands on the counter she leaned forward and asked, "So you stalking me?"

His brow quirked. "Would you believe me if I said no?" His hand reached out, his finger sliding down the strap of her dress from her shoulder and then stop above the top of her breasts. Bea burned from the touch and never wanted anything more than to have that finger on her skin. Doing more than trailing down the piece of string of her dress. She needed his hands to cup her breasts and pull on her nipples.

"Maybe?" she breathed. Enough was enough. She might've missed out taking home that night but right now he was here. And she had a bed upstairs. If he was willing. Something told her he was definitely willing. Moving around the counter with arms outstretched for a handshake she told him, "My friends call me Bea."

He grasped her hand. Pulling her close he looked down at her, his eyes gleaming with lust. "My name is Lance." He lifted her hand up and kissed it. Heat pulled at her core and it started to involuntarily clench as if anticipating the feeling of his cock sliding inside her. "But you didn't answer my question."

"What question?"

"Are you psychics usually busy?" he semi repeated.

"No."

"No?" A frown creased his forehead.

"I'm a fortune teller. Not a psychic."

"Some will argue they're the same." He still hadn't let go of her hand. Bea had no problem with that. Or when he started caressing small circles with his thumb. It only made her want to feel his touch in other places, this time much lower, which was already wet and waiting.

"Then we'll be here all day. Don't think you want that."

His gaze dropped down to her mouth and back to her eyes making her nipples hardened to painful beaded points. "No I don't." Again his eyes roamed over her body stopping at her breasts. "Are you cold?"

"No," she said her breath coming in short pants. "Hot actually."

Bea stepped forward closing the rest of the distance between them. Her heart was beating at a frantic pace. His scent was all Lance. Intense, sensual and spicy. It begged her to bend her head into his neck and take a good, long sniff.

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