“I am attracted to you, Marcus. It was not the wine making me feel what I felt Saturday night. It was you.”
Excitement, raw and potent, thrummed in my veins at her frank confession. I leaned into her, savoring the way her mouth parted, her breath caught in her throat, and her eyes turned dark. There was no wine affecting her reactions now.
“What did you feel?”
I hadn’t misinterpreted our proximity then. I did affect her, just as she affected me. The notion released an exhilarating feeling inside me and my whole being pulsed with it. I stiffened all over when Charlotte turned in my lap then straddled me, locking her hands behind my neck. She was being daring. She was meeting me halfway.
“I think I was drunker on you than on the wine.”
“So that’s why you came once more into the wolf’s lair. Willingly, now.”
“I came willingly the last time too.”
She mustered a delectably offended look, but in the end, she chuckled and so did I. She caressed the skin at the nape of my neck, occasionally twisting her fingers in my hair. I wondered if she realized how sensual that minimal contact could be or how much of a temptress she was.
“Why?” My voice was rougher now, tight and thick with desire. The primal part of Charlotte recognized my lust, and she gave out a strangled gasp.
With passionate resolve, Charlotte pressed into me, then her mouth was on mine. Her kiss was slow but firm, nervous but fiery. I met her halfway and let her be in charge, at her own pace. I enjoyed it even.
Her tongue explored the dark recesses of my mouth with voluptuous curiosity and innate talent. She tasted me, tormented me, ignited me as she slowly wiggled in my lap and found all the secrets my mouth could offer. Or almost all of them, I thought, smirking internally. Then her teeth closed around my bottom lip and her delicate nose nuzzled mine. For a change, it felt wonderful to be the one at the receiving end of a kiss.
“I wanted to kiss you. Consciously.” She sounded breathless, but so was I.
“Oh, Charlotte, you are testing my power of restraint, darling.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to restrain yourself.”
I groaned loudly, and Charlotte bit her lower lip to curb a sharp intake of breath. With eyes smoldering and cheeks blushing, she watched me expectantly. She didn’t fully understand what she was requesting. Once I forsook restraint, I wasn’t going to be willing to bow to it again.
There was an innocence about Charlotte, a certain lack of experience, that lit an even wilder fire inside me. Once I got a taste of her, I would never want to deny myself the pleasure of having her all over again.
“However, I’m still mad at you.”
I changed topic entirely, only to calm the raging desire driving me slowly but surely mad. I was not sure yet if Charlotte was ready to meet the version of Marcus King with no holds barred.
“You’re mad at me?”
I nodded and carefully slid her off my lap and next to me on the couch. With her so tightly pressed against my chest, straddling me, it was difficult to hide the evidence of my craving or its advanced development. Under her lazy stare, the air grew hotter and my determination weaker.
“Ms. Hansen and Mr. McAlister? They traumatized me.”
When she regarded me with a serious, almost blank expression, I was afraid I had just crossed a line. After all, she had warned me that the cuckoo couple were close friends of hers. Then she erupted into copious laughter, taking me by complete surprise. She laughed so hard that she had to hug herself as tears trickled down her cheeks.
“Glad to amuse you,” I bristled, but her laughter was heaven to my ears. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Well, it’s only part of the duties specified by your internship.” The laugh dwindled into amused chuckles until she pressed her lips into a taut line to prevent any sound from coming out. She was laughing at my expense, and instead of being offended, I wallowed in her amusement. “But yes, I did. Have they reached a conclusion?” And suddenly, amusement was replaced by concern.
“Did you expect them to?” I snorted, remembering the impossible meeting. I had never in my life met a pair of people more unstable or undecided. “They asked for a postponement. And next time, they want to meet with you. Coincidentally, I agree with them.”
“Poor darling.” Charlotte mocked me with another succession of melodious giggles.
She touched my cheek with a motherly gesture, enveloping me with her illicit fragrance of tuberoses. I buried my nose in her palm and nuzzled my cheek against her touch. When I lifted my head, Charlotte had stopped laughing. She was breathless and overpowered by deep, tantalizing yearning. My own longing responded fiercely to the luscious sight before me.
“When did you return?”
“In fact, I came from the airport,” Charlotte admitted shyly, staring at the linked hands in her lap.
“Did you, now?” I was surprised, pleased, and newly enflamed.
“I told you I was on a mission. Besides, I missed you too.”
“Oh, Charlotte...” I breathed heavily as the last remains of control vanished.
I leaned into her and she leaned back until she was sprawled on the couch and I hovered over her. With a visceral instinct that was deep-seated in her very nature, Charlotte inhaled loudly, absorbing my scent.
“It’s complicated for me to tell where I meet your expectations and where I start taking advantage of you.”
She rested her lukewarm fingers on my face, caressing and feeding a fire that she might have started the very first night we met. The low growl in my throat elicited a sweet moan from her swollen, red lips, and I was lost. I kissed her until she panted for breath, then something more.
“It’s difficult for me to trust so easily and so quickly. But with you, I want to take a chance. I want you, Marcus.”
Before her luminous, sincere eyes, I had to close my own. Her words thrilled me as much as they panicked me. They nearly hurt because it was clear now that our association was not a simple adventure. We were going to emerge victorious in each other’s arms or leave the battlefield in pieces. There was no middle ground.
“I do,” she reiterated, conviction etched on her face.
Her hands fisted in my shirt. Charlotte pulled me down to her and seized my mouth once more. Her resolve and her passion made me smile.
Between her fingers slipping beneath my shirt, exploring the skin from my nape to my lower back, and her delicious lips molding so perfectly with mine, it was difficult to concentrate on anything else.
I realized my phone was ringing in the pocket of my sweatpants only when Kinga barked in acknowledgment, causing Charlotte to shift underneath me. She was flushed and willing, and nothing could have prevented me from taking more of what she offered.
Then the phone rang again, a vicious blare ruining the sensual quietness we had been drowned in.
Liv.
A sudden chill chased the heat away.
“What is it?” The low, pained lamentations at the other end of the line froze me. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”
Chapter 17
Charlotte
“Can I get you anything, Miss Burton?” Sofia asked before I even reached the reception area. Her green eyes looked tired behind the square glasses but just as kind.
“Coffee, please. Dark and strong. You’re good to go afterward.”
I massaged my temples as I strode to my office, willing away the ache that was an early indication of a future aggravated version of the same bothering pain. It was going to rain. I just knew it. A latent pain had been throbbing all day in my bones like a pest, but the physical pain was eclipsed by the heaviness in my chest.
The door of the interns’ office was open, and Marcus was standing right in front of his desk, watching me. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his jeans and his eyes were serious and searing.
Faced with his intense perusal, my heart skipped a beat, but locking my jaw, I avoided his gaze. His perp
lexing behavior rendered me an irascible and unbalanced heap of nerves. So I just walked forward and took shelter inside my office.
I stopped only when I faced the gigantic glass wall that kept watch and ward over Central Park then took a deep breath in a failed attempt to settle myself. I didn’t know what was happening to me when I was near Marcus. I wasn’t typically so straightforward, but neither was I daring.
Marcus made me both straightforward and daring. He made me curious and willing and carefree. If he put his mind to it, he was capable of making me wild too. And I had the feeling he intended to do just that.
Then he was evasive and unfathomable and so frustrating. Saturday evening replayed in my mind, and the way it came to an end left a bitter taste in my system. The phone had rung and the warm, irresistible Marcus I hadn’t been able to get enough of had turned into cold stone.
After hanging up, he had rubbed his face impatiently and had all but crushed the phone in his palm. Then he had donned a hoodie forgotten on the sofa, and mumbling an apology, he had stormed out of his apartment. He had just left me there alone.
Later that night he had called numerous times, but I had been too confused to answer.
Maybe what I needed was time, space. Or maybe I just needed him. The growing confusion and ache throbbing in my skull made me irritable.
I didn’t like uncertainty. I didn’t like chaos. And ironically, Marcus was both. The door clicked open, then the shuffling of feet disturbed the silence.
“You can leave the coffee on my desk. Thank you, Sofia.”
“I am not Sofia.”
I inhaled sharply but forgot how to exhale. Marcus’s voice was quiet and slightly rough, a combination of a soft whisper and a menace.
I gasped.
Approaching footsteps alerted me of his advance, but I forbade myself to turn. If I met his eyes, I would fall under his spell again. What was it about him that made me want to forsake rationality and just give in?
“Charlotte...” he murmured, his breath caressing the back of my head. I suppressed a shiver.
“Here is your—” Sofia stopped abruptly when she realized I had company.
“You can leave the coffee on my desk,” I repeated, this time to the correct person.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Miss Burton?”
“No, Sofia. Thank you.”
When the door clicked shut, I knew I was alone with Marcus. Electricity sizzled off him and penetrated me like a raging fire. It had been cold, but it was unbearably hot now.
The heat stirred me, like I had been sleeping, and suddenly, I was awake. Marcus leaned into me, his chest flattened to my back and his cheek nuzzling against mine. A peace offering? An apology? A diversion?
“You shouldn’t be in here,” I finally told him and took a step to the side. Painfully aware of our closeness, I kept my gaze trained forward. Central Park looked dull and sullen. “I thought I had made myself clear.”
“I need to talk to you, Charlotte. It’s been half a week, and you won’t answer my calls.”
My brows dipped into a scowl, then I realized he was right. Lately, I had been growing irritable when I was away from Marcus for too long. I couldn’t let him control my mood. I couldn’t—but I was afraid it was already too late.
“Not here,” I replied sternly and made to leave, but his hand promptly covered my elbow and stopped me in place, much too close to him. Despite my protest, I had known he wouldn’t relent.
“God, Charlotte, look at me, please.”
The concern merged with a deep, barely restrained frustration drew my attention. Marcus looked as exhausted as I felt. Wrinkles surrounded his eyes, his lips were pursed in a taut line, and tension matured his features beyond his years. He hasn’t been sleeping well, I mused absently. And neither had I.
“You just left me there—” I awkwardly addressed the elephant in the room. A sob threatened to burst from my chest, not as a result of his action, but of how that action had made me feel. Lonely. Terribly lonely.
“I don’t know how to apologize because I know that you shouldn’t forgive me. I don’t have an excuse for how I acted. I never do when I mess up, and I mess up frequently. But I never wanted to hurt your feelings, Charlotte. I never wanted you to doubt how I feel—”
“Why did you leave then?”
The fervor in his voice and his self-condemnation staggered and softened me in equal measure.
“It was a friend who needed my help. I had to go.”
The words came out both as a wounded supplication and a sentence he stuck to fiercely. The mixture was dizzying, just like him. Marcus was a combination of combinations.
The only friends I knew were the same three men who had assaulted me and who still haunted my dreams. I wondered which friend he referred to and shuddered at the thought of what such friends would request of him.
His bad mood, however, created a resonating pang in my chest. The cocky, confident man became a lost boy, with fears, confusions, and problems that were beyond his ability to solve.
Marcus seemed fragile. My hands were cupping his face before I realized what I was doing. His eyes clouded with astonishment, but he received my wordless comfort with something akin to relief.
“Talk to me,” I pleaded. There was something hidden behind that angst and powerlessness. Something was eating at him from the inside out.
“There are some things I am not ready to talk about yet.”
Blue eyes begged me to understand, to not pursue the matter. The empathetic part of me decided not to push him or dig for answers. I experienced no eagerness to deepen his misery. The emotional part of me, however, still felt rejected and much too disconcerted. I was a mixture of emotions, and they were all jumbled inside me.
“Then if that is all, I have work to attend to.” I sat at my desk, but I couldn’t concentrate on work, and he knew it.
“No, it is not all.” Marcus sighed. He gave me an exasperated look then rounded the desk and took a seat without waiting for an invitation.
“I’m listening.” I started typing on my computer, grateful that Marcus couldn’t see the screen and the incoherent words I was writing.
“I want you to meet with my friends.”
“What?”
I had managed to reach a decent level of calmness, and all of a sudden, I had to strain not to shout. It was painfully obvious which friends he referred to, and the mere notion made my skin crawl. It must certainly have been a joke.
“I know you don’t like them although you seemed quite appeased by Kai. Sometimes I don’t like them either, but I want you to spend some more time with them.”
“What?” I repeated, sounding stupid to my own ears. Whereas my displeasure escalated, he remained calm and assuaging.
“I want you to overcome your irrational fear, Charlotte.”
“It isn’t that irrational if you think about it,” I retorted stiffly, my spine straightening.
“Hey,” he sighed conciliatorily and pressed his hand to the desk, reaching out to me. His hand waited for mine, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch him. It was easier to cling to anger than give in to anxiety. “I am neither underestimating your apprehension nor judging it. But I don’t want you to be afraid. And I don’t want you to have those nightmares anymore. The only way you’ll see that they are not a danger to you is to get to know them. They are just a stupid pack with too much free time on their hands.”
Astonishment efficiently shut my mouth. I had never looked at things from his perspective because I had never imagined I would have to see those men again. I couldn’t deny he was right, but then vivid glimpses of my nightmares flashed before my eyes, and I knew I couldn’t meet with his friends that easily.
With an unreadable expression, Marcus stood and headed for the door. There was a spark in his eyes, though, that assured me the conversation was not over and his intentions would not falter so easily.
“Charlotte, I’d rather you didn’t drink coffee at these
hours.”
As soon as he walked out the door, I took a sip of the hot liquid out of mere defiance. Abruptly, the coffee didn’t taste as appealing.
It was with surprise moments later that I lifted my eyes from the case files I was reading to see Marcus ambling in. He set a glass of orange juice in front of me and dropped a small pill beside it. Advil. I watched him, perplexed. How did he know I had a headache?
“Drink.” It was not a request. “I will be waiting for you in my car.”
Then he was gone. His commanding attitude outraged me, yet his promise filled me with traitorous delight.
Half an hour later, giving in to curiosity, I rode the elevator to the parking lot and walked to my car just to show him that I was also capable of defiance. But in front of my car, blocking it, was parked a menacing Jaguar.
I stopped right in front of his car, glaring at him through the windshield. Marcus was sitting behind the wheel with arms folded behind his neck. He winked, somehow sensing that my glare was purely for bravado, and nodded for me to climb in. I did so petulantly and slammed the door shut as a final touch to my little show of bad temper.
Without warning, the need to make peace with him blasted like fireworks in my blood. I wanted him to hold me to his chest where I could inhale his fragrance. I wanted him to do so much more than that. I knew I was blushing before he looked my way.
“If we are going to have an argument, we are going to have it by talking. I will not let you shut me out.”
His brusqueness momentarily took me aback, and I almost recoiled in my seat, but the magnetism between us was too strong. I was inexorably drawn to him.
“What else will you not allow me, Marcus?” I mimicked him and involuntarily leaned closer.
“Do not provoke me, sugar.”
His eyes twinkled with pure sin and lascivious challenge, causing the blood in my cheeks to burn feverishly.
He turned on the ignition, and in less than a minute, the car was flying down the road. The notion of him racing frightened me, yet here I was by his side comfortable with his speed.
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