Madam Mom


Sex appeal oozed from each breath he expelled. Pheromones struck a happy, hot dance in her veins.

The Seatbelt On sign blinked off. He extended a hand. “I’m Sam Finch.”

Tisha shook it firmly. Heat from his skin melted any resistance that remained. Their eyes locked and spoke more than words could.

“Nice meeting you, Sam Finch. I’m Tisha McClain.” The sultry words came out with a life of their own, expressing more about her needs than her name.

Sam blinked, cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, keeping their gaze locked as though trying to read her intention.

“Listen, I owe you an apology for the way I acted today. I’m sorry. I’ve been overwhelmed, and you offered nothing but kindness. I hope you’ll forgive my rudeness.” Her lashes fluttered flirtingly as though they had a will of their own. She didn’t try to control them.

“Don’t give it another thought. I understand. I shouldn’t have butted in. You appeared . . . well, desperate.”

“I guess that about sums it up. I’ve been in shock since getting the news.” She couldn’t bear repeating it.

“I’m sorry for your loss. I cannot imagine what you’re going through.” It rang sincere.

“Thank you.” Glad he hadn’t assumed to understand. She hated when people did that. How could anyone know how a person felt? She struggled to get grounded. Sam is a nice guy, certainly a handsome one; and he acts interested.

He wouldn’t leave her alone. He certainly had sex appeal. She longed to run her fingers through the golden locks continually straying out of place and pull the gorgeous lips to hers.

She’d never see Sam again. Maybe a hot tryst with a sexy stranger would help her equilibrium return. She wasn’t fast and loose with men normally, but discretion got her a broken heart more often than she cared to count.

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