by Bella Jewel
“Hi Marcus,” Jaylah says, her voice a tiny squeak. “I know it’s taken a while, but I wanted to come by and, ah, thank you for what you did.”
Marcus’s eyes flash to her. Damn.
“No need to do that,” he rumbles.
“Of course there is,” Jaylah protests. “You saved my life.”
His eyes hold hers, dangerous. “No problem.”
Then he turns to me. “My office, ten.”
With that, he walks away.
I know why Jaylah is thanking him. A little bit back, Marcus was visiting Mack at the hospital and saw her getting dragged off by some psycho. He saved her life, going in after her and bringing her back. It was sweet. I turn to the girls and their faces are all slightly . . . freaked. Marcus does that to people.
“Sorry about him.” I laugh nervously. “He can be slightly, ah, broody.”
Santana grins. “I bet he likes to spank the bacon?”
My face lights up. “He most certainly does.”
We all burst out laughing again.
I like these girls. A lot.
~*~*~*~
I spend the next few minutes chatting with the girls, and after twenty I realize I was meant to be in Marcus’s office. Excusing myself and saying goodbye to them, promising to catch up again, I rush off. Candy tags me just as I reach the office space and spins me into her. “Candy, I’m . . .”
“So, that girl that just walked in.”
Huh.
“Over there, Kat,” she says, jerking her head.
I turn and glance at the reception desk. There’s a beautiful woman, and I mean beautiful, standing at the desk. She’s got long, red hair and dazzling green eyes. She’s tall, slender, and so damned feminine it burns.
“What about her?”
“She was one of Marcus’s regulars.”
Ouch.
“Really, Candy?” I hiss. “And I needed to know that because?”
“Because she’s here to see him.”
I shrug. “Good for her. He’s married to me.”
She crosses her arms in a huff. “You’re a crappy wife.”
I laugh loudly, unable to stop it. “I am not.”
“Are so. You’re meant to get jealous.”
“Well, I’m not.”
Lie. I so was.
“Fine, we’ll see . . .”
I grin at her and she returns it, then I turn and rush out. I make it to Marcus’s office just as the door opens and he steps out. He’s angry; I can see it right away. His eyes flash to me and I grin up at him. His anger doesn’t scare me anymore—he’s always broody, and if I’m not happy and bubbly then we simply clash. It’s better this way.
“Sorry, I was talking to those girls and got sidetracked. They’re amazing, and—”
“I said ten minutes, Katia,” he growls.
I snap my mouth shut. He leans in close, his lips brushing my ear. “When I say ten minutes, I don’t mean half an hour.”
“I had guests,” I protest.
His arm curls around my waist and he holds me close to him, not in a sexy, oh-my-God kind of way, but in a possessive, controlling kind of way.
“Next time there’ll be consequences.”
I stiffen. I hate broody Marcus.
“You had guests. I’m not going to be rude.”
He leans back and stares down at me, his eyes burning. He opens his mouth to speak but a pretty feminine voice rings out, “Marcus?”
Great. Ginger Barbie just saw him.
“Your girlfriend is here,” I chirp.
His eyes flash to her, his jaw tics, and then he glares at me.
“Later, honey.”
With that, I curl out of his arms, chuckling lightly as I walk back to Candy’s room. She snatches me back in and gasps. “What was that?”
“What?”
“You just told him his girlfriend is here!”
“Stop eavesdropping, Candy.”
“That woman is fine.”
I throw my hands on my hips. “And I’m not?”
She turns to me, opening and closing her mouth.
“Candy!”
“Of course you are,” she stammers. “But she’s . . .”
I turn and see Ginger Barbie curling her fingers around my husband’s arm. Jealousy burns low in my belly, but I suck it back down. He’s glaring at her, full and ugly. If it weren’t for that glare, I’d probably run out there and dropkick her right in the fanny.
“Look at the glare he’s giving her,” I point out.
She nods. “You’re right about that. He looks like he’s going to spit on her.”
I laugh, staring at my husband. “That wouldn’t surprise me.”
CHAPTER 4
THEN
Marcus
She’s perfect.
Not only is she a knockout, she’s got a stable job. The best part, she’s struggling. My plan will work; it will work because I’m sure she’d do anything she could to get the lifestyle required to help her mother. Including falling for, and marrying, someone who supports her. Call me selfish, go ahead.
It’s not selfish; it’s smart.
A win-win, really.
I open the door to my Mercedes, and she slides onto the leather seat. Her short, red dress rides up her creamy thighs, showing me a hint of what’s beneath. Katia is one hell of a babe. I don’t get women who look like her often; most of them are fake with their blond hair and double-D plastic tits. Not her; no, she’s as natural as they come. Thick blond hair, the most dazzling eyes I’ve ever fuckin’ seen and a tiny, tight body that’s definitely not enhanced.
If anything, she’s smaller that most of the girls I fuck.
I’d go so far as saying she resembles a pixie. The top of her head barely reaches the base of my chin.
Images of throwing her against my wall, her tiny body crushed by mine, my cock driving in and out of her tiny, tight pussy. Fuck, she won’t be hard to seduce, and it certainly won’t be a task. Most men would feel like assholes for what I’m about to do, but in the end it’s giving her a better life, and giving me a business that I’ve been working for.
As I said, win-win.
I shut the door and go around to the driver’s side, sliding in. Katia is staring at me with fuck-me eyes. Shit; she wants it as much as I do. I’m used to expensive women throwing themselves at me, wanting my cash, wanting my house for a night, and enjoying me, but this girl? This girl is staring at me as if she wants to run her tongue over my body, slowly.
“Fuck me,” I rasp. “Keep lookin’ at me like that, and I’ll take you right here in this fuckin’ car.”
She bites her lip.
I fuckin’ die.
This is going to be fun.
~*~*~*~
KATIA
His house.
Wow.
It’s bigger than any place I’ve ever been to. It’s not even a house; it’s a mansion. I find out why it’s so big when he tells me he runs his business out of it, that it’s the main office as well as where he lives. One end of the massive twelve-bedroom mansion has been decked out as offices. There are also five massive sheds that he told me house the machinery he hires out. Successfully, apparently.
Again, wow.
He leads me through the tiled, ginormous house. There’s expensive artwork scattered about, as well as furniture I’ve never seen, or heard of. It all looks uncomfortable, as rich people’s furniture usually does. I’d rather curl up on my faded yellow sofa any day. When we reach his room, I gasp. It’s bigger than my apartment. His bed is bigger than my God damned apartment.
“I . . . wow,” I breathe.
He shrugs his coat off and unfastens his tie, sliding it off from around his neck. Then he pops the top button to his shirt, exposing more bronzed skin. “Can I get you a drink?” he asks, heading to the large bar set up in the corner of his bedroom.
“Please,” I say, taking a seat on the plush maroon sofa tucked into the corner.
He pours two drink
s, and then hands me one as he joins me on the sofa. His thigh grazes mine as he brings the amber liquid to his lips, sipping it as he watches me. I realize his eyes are a really dark brown, so dark they look black.
“Tell me how you want this to go, precious.”
Precious. God.
“I’ll leave that to you,” I murmur, the alcohol swimming in my head.
“Jesus,” he growls.
He puts a glass down and reaches out, taking mine. Then his fingers are sliding down my cheek. This man is dangerous, of that I don’t doubt, yet his touch is so seductive. I can’t pull my eyes from his as his fingers slide down my neck, causing little tingles to break out over my skin. He runs the tips over my collarbone, before taking them all the way back up until his hand has slipped behind my neck. He pulls me closer and I close my eyes, waiting for his lips.
The heat of his mouth is so close it’s washing over my skin, but he doesn’t kiss me. I open my eyes and his are still locked on mine, his lips only a centimeter from mine. Why isn’t he kissing me? This is torture, pure torture. Instead, he slides his tongue out and touches it to my bottom lip. Holy hell. That’s the sexiest thing anyone has ever done to me. I whimper and he finally closes the distance between us.
The moment his lips connect with mine, and his stubble scratches the skin around my mouth, I lose it. It’s such an intense moment, so erotic and damned sexy. I sink into him, my fingers going to his shirt, flicking some of the buttons as his tongue invades my mouth, tangling with mine, the scorching heat sending flames right to my core. My toes curl as the kiss deepens.
This man is going to rock my world, of that I’m sure.
He pulls his mouth from mine and his lips travel down over my neck. My nipples turn into hard peaks as his mouth kisses a scorching path down my neck, over my shoulders, and then he covers my nipples with his opened mouth through my clothes. The heat of his breath burning through my dress and over my already hard nipples has my back arching. I thrust my hips up and he catches them with his hands as his lips continue to devour my breast.
This man doesn’t do things by halves. He’s devouring every inch of me, even before my clothes have left my body. No wham, bam, thank you ma’am, here, no, Marcus is greedy and I like it. My back presses further into the sofa as he continues his nipple torture. My hips thrust, but he keeps a steady hold on them, making sure my ass remains pressed into the plush cushions. I close my eyes, letting out a long, ragged breath as he finally reaches for the hem of my dress, sliding it up inch by inch.
I wish he would hurry up.
Shit, no, I wish he would slow down so this doesn’t have to end.
“Marcus,” I breathe.
“Don’t speak, Katia,” he says, his voice low and husky, “unless I tell you to.”
Whoa. Okay.
“But . . .”
He jerks my hips so suddenly I’m caught off guard. Before I know what’s happening, he’s got me flat on the couch, my head pressing into the cushions as he drops his body over mine. He brings his face close to mine; his dark eyes are so damned intense it takes everything inside me to hold his gaze. “I said,” he growls, flashing white teeth as he speaks, “don’t speak.”
I swallow.
Damn.
“If you do,” he says, his voice dropping. He slides his pointer finger down my chest, trailing it between my cleavage and down my belly, “I’ll make you wish you didn’t.”
“In a good or bad way?”
His eyes flash to mine and he bares his teeth. God, this man is dangerously sexy. “Do you want to come, Katia?”
Well, I’m here, aren’t I?
“I didn’t come for a picnic,” I mutter.
His lip quirks and he leans down, pressing his lips to my ear. There, he whispers, “I very much came for a picnic, and the first thing I’m going to eat, precious, is you.”
Oh. My.
I clamp my lips shut, because I most certainly want him to eat me. He nips my earlobe, causing little trembles to leave my body, before continuing with the removal of my dress. He slides it up, leaning down to press kisses up my stomach as he moves it. My skin prickles and my legs automatically go over to tangle with his. He makes light work of my dress, flicking it off and throwing it onto the floor.
Then he takes a moment to stare. I squirm under his gaze, because it’s that intense. His eyes slide over my body, starting from my face and moving down until he stops at my panties. His lip quirks and I know exactly why. My thong has a kitty on it, with a caption: Hello Pussy. It’s meant to be a funny rip-off of Hello Kitty in the sexy-panties kind of way.
My cheeks flush and I keep my mouth closed. No need to try and explain that one. Marcus finally moves his gaze back to my face and his eyes are full of lust and danger. He reaches down, cupping my breasts in his big hands and a whimper escapes my lips. That feels amazing. He leans down, bringing his lips to mine again and I let him, devouring every moment that I can taste him. He tastes amazing.
His hands roughly fondle my breasts, before slipping around and removing my bra. He flicks it off and then, without warning, wrenches his mouth from mine and drops his face into my cleavage. He sucks, licks and bites my flesh and nipples. I’m squirming and whimpering desperately by the time he starts moving down my body, sucking my skin into his mouth as his fingers curl into my panties.
Meanwhile, he’s still got all of his clothes on.
He tugs at my panties and before I know it, they’re gone. Then his hands are pressing to my knees and he pushes my legs open. Oh God. He makes a throaty sound, before murmuring, “Sweet fuckin’ pussy, Katia.”
The way he says it, his voice is a low husk, slightly rumbling but delectable. He lowers his mouth between my legs and breathes over me, puff after puff of air, brushing against my exposed pussy. While he’s taunting me like this, his finger is sliding up and down the outside of my pussy lips, making my core tighten and my depths become wet and ready. I squirm, clenching my jaw, wanting him to do something. The desperation is killing me.
But I won’t beg.
I’m not a beggar.
He must sense this, because I swear, I can feel him smile against my pussy as he finally closes his mouth over my clit. He sucks it into his mouth like a God damned vacuum, taking it in and out, sucking forcefully. I buck beneath him, digging my fingernails into the soft flesh of my palms as I gasp his name. He devours me like I’m his last meal and he’s about to walk death row.
Then, just as I’m about to come, he pulls back. I open my mouth, then close it, then whimper desperately. He looks down at me, and God, his beauty will never get old. He’s the kind of man you would happily look at for the rest of your life. His dark eyes are sparkling with humor, and I know right away he’s proud that he’s left me hanging.
“What was that for?” I breathe.
“Talking.”
Simple. Straight to the point. I get the feeling Marcus is like this all the time.
I don’t answer. I don’t because he’s testing me. He wants me to answer him, to throw sass, but let me tell you . . . I am not missing out on another orgasm Marcus Tandem is offering. Hell to the no. With a pleased growl, Marcus slowly undresses. The tie goes first, then the white shirt. I gasp when I get a good look at the tattoos on his chiseled, smooth, olive chest.
He’s got a massive, circular design over his left pec. It looks slightly tribal and I won’t deny that it’s hot. Then he’s got more Celtic-like designs going down the left side of his body, yet the right is completely ink free, except for the design curling up and around his neck. Jesus, he’s hot. I move my eyes from his tattoos and take in his exceptionally muscled body. He’s not too big, not too small. He’s perfectly built, having everything a man should have.
Then he drops his pants.
And I see right away he’s got far more than any man should have.
My lips part and I gasp as I take in his thick, hard cock. He doesn’t make any move to hide it, or shy away, which only confirms that Marcu
s Tandem is a player. No man is that confident otherwise. He stands before me, as if letting me take him in. He’s allowing me to paint a perfect mental image in my mind. And I am. Boy, I most certainly am.
He’s to die for.
That’s not even an exaggeration.
His cock is thick, hard and long. There are four little barbells weaved through the mushroom-shaped head, and I instantly wonder how they’ll feel driving in and out of my pussy. At that very thought, I become wetter. I want to clench my legs together, but the way Marcus is looking at me tells me he likes what he sees. I like what I see. I guess we’re in the same boat.
“Put your fingers in your pussy,” he rasps, breaking the silence.
I blink at him. He’s in front of me, standing, perfectly naked, and I’m laying on his couch with nothing but my heels on and my legs are spread wide. Now he wants me to . . . finger myself?
“What?” I breathe.
“Fingers, in your pussy.”
His brown eyes hold mine, and I can see he’s serious. God, I’ve never done anything like that in front of a man before. I want to, though. After all, I’m never going to see Marcus again; what will it hurt? Taking a deep, steadying breath, I slowly lower my hand until I reach my exposed flesh. I dip my finger in, finding my swollen clit, and I begin massaging it.
Marcus curls his hand around his cock and starts stroking softly, his eyes never leaving mine. This is alarming, in so many ways. Firstly, he’s not watching my fingers. Secondly, his eyes look as though they can see into my very soul. My lips part on a whimper as my clit jerks to life, needing to release, still raw from his mouth being there only moments ago.
“Slide your finger inside,” he orders.
I do as he asks, slipping a finger inside while continuing to rub my clit. My back arches as my orgasm builds, and I pray to the heavens he’ll let me have this one.
“Look at your nipples,” he growls. “So fuckin’ hard. Are you going to come?”
“Yes,” I pant
“Thinkin’ about me?”
“God, yes.”
“You want my cock, Katia?” he purrs.
Jesus, the way he says my name. The way it rolls off his tongue. It has my moan clogging in my throat and my eyes rolling back, as my orgasm nears.