Read Impossible Glamour Online
Authors: Maggie Marr
Tags: #FIC027240 FICTION / Romance / New Adult; FIC027020 FICTION / Romance / Contemporary; FIC044000 FICTION / Contemporary Women
Ellen then wrapped her mother into her arms. “Thank you, Mama.”
“Ellen,
poquita
, what makes your heart sing only gives me joy.” A giant smile spread over her mom’s face.
They started talking about brunches, and weddings, and Sophia and Amanda. They stood and walked out of the room. Steve leaned forward. I leaned in too. We were inches apart. Mano a mano.
“I don’t like this,” Steve said. “I was coerced.”
“Kind of like Kazowski?” I lifted my eyebrow. I’d discovered what Steve had done to get that letter of recommendation. Didn’t take too long to sort out when my UCLA Alumni newsletter arrived, touting the new surgical chair dedicated to Doctor Lynn Kazowski.
“You didn’t tell Ellen, did you?”
“I won’t if you won’t.”
Steve nodded. “I didn’t need to do it. Ellen deserves a residency. That doctor had a pole up her ass about me and this thing we had fifteen years ago.”
“You? And Kazowski?” Steve’s dick knew no limits.
Steve nodded. “My dirty laundry, I took care of it.”
Fair enough. No need for Ellen to have to hear about yet another woman Steve had scored with.
He leaned closer. “If you
ever
hurt her, I will fuck you up,” Steve rasped out in his best make-my-day kind of voice.
“Steve-o, my man, if I ever hurt her, I’ll let you.” I cocked my eyebrow.
A grin surfaced on Steve’s face. “Webber, you may not be a Nobel laureate or a US senator, but you sure as hell can make me laugh.”
“Well, I’m not opposed to working on the senator thing. We should talk.”
Steve squinted his eyes. An idea that he’d not considered and yet…might be possible. “Yeah, Webber, we definitely should.” He slapped his hand on my back and we stood and followed Ellen and her mom toward the kitchen and a future filled with family, crazy, and lots of love.
The End
Thanks for reading
Impossible Glamour
. I hope you enjoyed it! Reviews help other readers find books and I appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative. Please take a moment and write a review for
Impossible Glamour.
You’ve just read the sixth book in the Glamour Series. Books in the series:
1.
Hard Glamour
2.
Broken Glamour
3.
Fast Glamour
4.
Easy Glamour
5.
Luxe Glamour
6.
Impossible Glamour
Would you like to know when my next book is available? You can sign up for my new release e-mail list on my Website at
http://www.maggiemarr.net
.
Follow me on Twitter at :
http://twitter.com/maggiemarr
, or like my Facebook page at
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Maggie-Marr-Books/168071873226783?ref=ts
.
Book two of The Eligible Billionaires series is out. Just click the link if you'd like to read an excerpt from
One Night for Love
.
The Hollywood Girls Club Series
Hollywood Girls Club
Secrets of the Hollywood Girls Club
Hollywood Hit
Hollywood Girls Club the Series
The Eligible Billionaires Series
Can’t Buy Me Love
One Night for Love
A Christmas Billionaire
Last Call for Love
Running from Love
A Forever Love
The Powder Springs Series
Courting Trouble
The Christmas Wish
The Glamour Series
Hard Glamour
Broken Glamour
Fast Glamour
Easy Glamour
Luxe Glamour
Impossible Glamour
Maggie Marr is an attorney, author, and producer. She began her career in the entertainment industry pushing the mail cart but rose to the position of motion picture literary agent. She has written for TV, film, and celebrities. Maggie has been featured on KCRW's
The Business
and reviewed by
Publishers Weekly
,
Kirkus
, and
Romantic Times
. She lives in LA with her family.
Maggie is eternally grateful for the graciousness and support of her readers.
Please visit her Website at:
http://maggiemarr.net
.
Twitter:
http://twitter.com/maggiemarr
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Maggie-Marr-Books/168071873226783?ref=ts
Thank you to my readers, it is because of each of you, that I have a career as a writer, thank you! Thank you to my agent Kristin Nelson. Thank you to her entire team at NLA. Thank you to Lori Bennett the NLA Digital guru who makes everything digital work. Thank you to Angie Hodapp for her patience and interior design of all my paperbacks. Thank you to Sarah Hansen for another great cover. Thank you to Anne Victory my editor, for her awesome editorial skills and to Crystalle Berry, my proofreader, who makes every book shine. Sarah Altman, virtual assistant extraordinaire, thank you.
Thank you to RWA, LARA, WFWA, and OCC who provide me with loads of information and fabulous friends. Thank you to Club Indie and Marie Force and her self-publishing loop.
Thank you to an exceptional group of women readers who support my work and keep me motivated and moving forward, Lindsy Henderson, Melissa Lamoureaux, Rosemary Feil, Sheila Nolin Schwartz, Roxana Perez Hidalgo, Debra Knotts, Megan McCaule, Laura Akers Collins, Kimberly Dawn, Victoria Schultz, Denise Boyd, Michelle Haxton, Amanda Weber, Christy McGlauchlen, and Kathy Church. I appreciate each of you. Thank you for your kindness and support.
Thank you to my family and friends especially: Margaret L. Marr, Nancy Veskerna, Lauren Harrison, Gavin White, Nealie White, Linda and Bill Henderson, Lindsy and Mark Henderson, Eloise and Dixie Marr, Gayle Leftwich, Joyce and Tom Leahy, Paula and David Glasscock, Garrett L. Marr, Amy and Brent Zacky, Victoria and Karl Makinen, Sheryl and Steven Ross, Peggy Cafferty, Maria Seager, Sylvie Fox, Beverly Diehl, Kady Ambrose, Rebekah Ganiere, Debbie Decker, Cami Brite, Beth Yarnell, Debra Holland, Christine Ashworth, Cami Brite, Chandra Years, Sarah Vance-Tompkins, Julia Blake, Jane Porter, Megan Crane, and Bob. To my husband and children, thank you for loving me no matter what.
One Night for Love
, book two in The Eligible Billionaires
Series, now available from Maggie Marr.
Chapter One
“I want it harder,” Prim said. A grunt came from behind her. “God, yes.” Warmth pulsed through Prim’s body. Tingles shot from her spine and into her limbs. “Yes, deeper, deeper.” The warmth in her core puddled. Her muscles loosened. Her eyes closed. She soaked in the pleasure of a strong, hard, touch. To be stroked and kneaded and rubbed.
This was paradise.
“Lady got too much tension in her shoulder.” Layla’s hand supple with oil trailed along the fine vertebrae of Prim’s neck. “Muscles still knotted in here”—her deft fingers pulsed along Prim’s left shoulder—“even after six days of massage.”
Air wooshed from Prim’s lungs. She opened her eyes and stared at the terra cotta tile floor beneath the massage table. What could she say? Even with the sun, surf, and sand she couldn’t forget what she was about to return to in California.
Gargantuan changes and potentially a huge mess of an existence.
“Lady’s lower back is still tight.” Layla's fingertips fanned out and Prim felt the heat in her core melt. Relaxation oozed through her. “Lady needs to be with a man.”
Prim jerked her head from the circular cushion. “A what?”
“Head down,” Layla pressed on the back of Prim’s head. “A man. Lady, needs to be with a man to release the tension in her body.”
Prim resettled her forehead and cheeks against the cushion. Her sex life, of lack thereof wasn’t something she really wished to discuss with her masseuse. Of course Layla's hands had kneaded nearly every inch of Prim's body for the last six days. The massage, each day, was a high point of Prim’s existence at La Meridian Ora at which she’d spent the last six days trying to decompress, relax, and prepare for what she would return to in L.A.
“Thought Lady would find a friend by now,” Layla continued. “Every day I walk up to house and think, this is the morning pretty Lady has no more tension here.” Layla’s thumb dug deep into the muscle of Prim’s left shoulder.
“Oooow,” Prim whined. Layla’s thumb hurt so good.
“Lady is pretty. She is young. She has beautiful body. Not married. No kids. She has private house, private beach at resort.” With each word, Layla rubbed her hands deeper into the muscles of Prim’s back. “She on holiday without man, but plenty of men at resort on holiday without a woman.”
Prim closed her eyes, Layla was beginning to sound more and more like Prim’s mother in London.
“So why, I ask, why has Lady, while she here, not found friend to take care of all the tension in these muscles?” Layla pulled the heavy heated towel up over Prim’s back and took her strong hands and stroked down Prim’s left leg.
“God, yes,” Prim whispered between her teeth.
“You not answer me.” Layla laughed. “Maybe Lady not know answer.”
“Men are pigs.” Prim said. There were two Prim wanted to gut right now.
“You’re not having sex.” Layla said. “I feel it in your muscles. I see it in your joints. Too tight. No sex.”
Prim’s sexual frustration bubbled through her chest and replaced the relaxation that Layla’s hands provided.
“I just haven’t found anyone,” Prim said. “No one that I want to be with.”
“Don’t have to keep the man, just have to use the man. Don’t keep the pig for a pet, just use it for what you need.”
Prim smiled. She liked the way Layla thought.
“Done,” Layla said. She tickled Prim’s right toes. Prim sat up and pulled the sheet around her body.
“Lady leave tomorrow?” Layla asked. She wiped her hands on a towel.
Prim nodded. “Early. I return to work on Monday.”
“Maybe you get lucky tonight. With all the massage your muscles are ready for a man. The heat will explode for you. Maybe you find one at Devils and Angels?”
Prim screwed up her face and shook her head. “Not going.” She slid from the massage table. She grasped the table with her hand. The first few steps, after a massage, were always tough. “Leaving early tomorrow morning, spending the night here.”
Layla’s smile slipped from her face. “Lady must go to Devils and Angels party.” Her grey hair was in a long thick braid. The skin around her eyes was etched with tiny wrinkles but Prim could neither tell Layla's heritage nor, for certain, her age. She seemed timeless. “Someone you must meet. I feel it in your body.”
Okay. A little too much voodoo with the massage. Prim reached for the envelope she’d prepared and handed it to Layla. “I can’t thank you enough for this week. You’ve made my body feel,” Prim pulled the sheet tighter around her body. “Well you’ve made my body feel better than it has in years.”
“Eighteen months,” Layla said. “It’s been almost eighteen months since you’ve been with a man.”
“How do you-?”
“You still not believe what my fingers feel? I can feel it all in your muscles, in your bones. We carry the body through life and life, it infiltrates all of the body.” Layla said the words as if it all was obvious. “You go tonight. You meet someone take away the tension these hands can’t reach.” Layla reached for her bag of oils and hefted it over her shoulder. “You go.”