I was no longer his best friend. Now I was just a woman to him, another body to conquer and screw and kick out his bed when he was done, like he did with all the rest. He would chew me up and spit me out, and then he’d expect that we would go back to being best friends once more.
I couldn’t do it. It would break me.
So I drew a breath. I smiled like I did every time I felt my heart shattering. “It was just a kiss, don’t get so worked up.”
Marlon didn’t smile back. The moonlight streaming in from the sunroof illuminated his wintry expression.
“I may play around with you, Emmaline,” he said in a dangerously soft voice, “but don’t take me for a fool. I know you’re lying to me. What I want to know is why.”
I shrugged, turning back to my laptop to hide my stinging nose and eyes. “You head back first. I still have work to do. I’ll see you at home.”
Marlon said nothing for a long moment, and I knew without looking that he was watching me, trying to figure out what I was thinking.
But he wouldn’t find what he was looking for. I’d spent years masking my emotions.
“Okay,” he said curtly. He snagged his shirt from the floor of the van and yanked it on. “Don’t bother waiting up. I’ll be with the girls at Palais.”
No.
His words stopped my heart cold.
He’d kissed me, he’d taken my first kiss, and here he was going to his fuck buddies right after?
The van door slid open as Marlon got out, then it slammed shut.
Empty silence surrounded me. I was alone again.
I stared blankly at the laptop in front of me for long minutes, seeing nothing but blurry words swimming on the screen. I tried blinking away the heat pricking my eyes. I tried taking slow, steadying breaths, counting backwards from one hundred.
It didn’t work. It never did.
I buried my face in my arms and bit down on my lips so hard they bled. The hot tears began to slide down my cheeks, and my lungs gulped in air painfully.
But even as my body shook from my crying, I never made a single sound.
***
Dance music pounded through the surround sound system in my VIP room, the same song that the live DJ was playing at the main dance floor downstairs.
Three of the four girls keeping me company danced together on the platform stage. One of them worked the pole, wearing a mini dress that hugged her tits and ass so tightly that her flesh curved over the hems. The other two were topless and grinding on each other, putting on a show for me.
The last girl sat on my lap kissing my neck, wearing a tiny mesh dress with strategic patterns that barely covered her nipples and her pussy.
Club Palais was the central hub around which all my activities revolved. It didn’t matter if you were a CEO or a nobody, everyone was equal here. It was my palace, a place I built that always put me in a good mood.
The only reason why it couldn’t now was Emmaline.
I threw back another shot and slammed the glass down on the table.
Freida tightened her arms around my neck and ground herself deeper in my lap. She was a stunning woman, all breasts and ass, red lips and thick dark hair. Her smile was seductive as she scraped her long nails down my bare chest.
“Someone’s in a bad mood today,” she purred. “It’s funny, because here,” she rubbed her ass over my hard erection, “you’re very, very happy.”
I appreciated her effort, but couldn’t lie. “It’s not for you.”
Freida stilled. “Oh. Then who, the new girl?” She looked across the room at the topless redhead who was bouncing on the pole and giving me a flirty finger wave. “You were spending time with her on Thursday. Want her to come over?”
“No, it’s not any of you. Just—” I picked Freida up from my lap and transferred her to the seat beside me. “I’m here to talk.”
“About what?” Freida deftly switched to Portuguese so the other girls couldn’t understand.
I rapped the empty shot glass on the table, feeling distracted even with the loud music and the alcohol on my brain.
“It’s Emmaline,” I finally exhaled.
Emma had been pale when I left her earlier, but I knew she wasn’t going to say another word when she decided to shut down like that. The only person I could talk to about her was Freida, one of the girls at the club, and a good friend of mine based on our love for our country, and for sex.
Freida pulled her dark hair over her shoulder and sat back in the sofa. “Emmaline Brown? What about her?”
“She’s in love with me.”
Thick false eyelashes fanned up and down on Freida’s cheeks. “She loves you?” she repeated blankly. “She told you?”
“No, but I know what I saw. Emma is in love with me, and she has been for years.”
“Oh.” Freida frowned. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Of course not,” I said immediately.
It was surprising, yes. Shocking, even.
But finding out that my best friend was in love with me was like stepping back from a painting to see that it was part of a larger canvas.
I had even been excited when I knew—until Emma turned into a stone wall and shut me out.
“The problem is that she is denying it.” I tapped the glass on the table again. ”We messed around, and afterwards she just gave me this fake smile and acted like it meant nothing.” My jaw tightened. “I just don’t fucking know why.”
Freida exhaled, twirling her hair around a red-tipped finger. “I have bad news for you, friend. You do realize what you’ve been doing for years?”
“What?”
“Marlon, she has seen you with countless women! You fool around with them in front of her, and you bring them back to your place when she’s around. Of course she doesn’t want to be treated that way.”
I frowned, uncertain for the first time that night. “It was just sex, it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Not to a woman who loves you. It would have made her very unhappy.” Freida gave me a frank stare. “Let me put it this way. Loving you is the worst thing a woman can do. And I’m speaking from experience.”
My gaze narrowed in warning. “Just because I didn’t return your feelings those years ago doesn’t make that statement true.”
“You’ve never loved anyone back, Marlon, that’s the problem. You think you do, but you don’t even know the meaning of that word.”
“I could,” I said simply. “I could, with Emma.”
Freida stared at me. “You want to use her to learn how to love?”
“I want to learn to love her,” I corrected.
Freida was speechless at that, but I had never been more serious about anything or anyone as I was towards Emma at that moment.
“Her beliefs and yours are not compatible,” Freida finally said. “She will not want to share you.”
I shrugged. “I won’t want to share her either, so it’s fair.”
“Are you even listening to yourself? You’re polygamous. She’s not. It won’t work!”
“I don’t live by a label, Freida. When I want multiple girls, I’ll have multiple girls. Now I want Emma, and I want her to want me only. What’s so hard to understand?”
Freida shook her head. “This is going too fast.”
“We’ve been together for six years. I’m only surprised this topic didn’t come up sooner.”
And now that it was out in the open, I didn’t want to hide from it. I could never go back to being just friends with Emma, not after that kiss we shared.
“What are you planning to do with her?” Freida narrowed her eyes at me. “How long will you play at this monogamy game?”
“I don’t know,” I said simply. “All I know is that her heart belongs to me, and her body wants me. We’ll see where it takes us.”
Freida looked unhappy as she drained her third glass. “You’re going to hurt her. It’s just what you do.”
Maybe.
But I also knew that Em
ma was strong and fierce. She was the only person in the world who had seen every side of me, good and ugly, and stayed.
That beautiful and feisty woman, my best friend and partner, loved me.
Fuck the risks. I wasn’t going to let that slip through my fingers.
I parked my car at the sidewalk and clomped up to the entrance to Club Palais. The two bouncers stepped aside to let me pass when they saw my face, by now used to my duties as their boss’ full-time babysitter.
Club Palais was Marlon’s brain child and the most sought-after luxe club in Manhattan, evidenced by the line of partiers queuing outside even though it was already three in the morning.
It was also the bane of my life. I couldn’t count the number of times I had to wake up in the middle of my sleep and come drag Marlon’s ass home because he had too much to drink and passed out.
Like now.
Gritting my teeth, I shoved my way past the sweaty bodies partying on the dance floor and headed up the glass staircase to the VIP room where Freida had told me Marlon was.
The idiot was sprawled across the sofa, shirtless and shoeless, with his head pillowed on Freida’s thighs and his bare feet dangling off the opposite armrest.
Collapsed on the other sofa were three topless girls, all of whom I recognized and all of whom Marlon had slept with before.
I lifted my leg and kicked his foot. “Get up.”
No response.
“Wake up,” Freida hissed as she shook Marlon’s shoulder, her gaze darting between me and him.
Marlon threw his arm over his eyes and gave that irritated sound that people who were dead drunk made when they wanted to be left alone.
Tough luck.
My jaw went tight as I yanked Marlon’s arm up and ducked my head under it.
I’d drag him out of here if I had to. It wasn’t like I hadn’t done it before, and at least he had his pants on this time.
“I can help,” Freida said quickly, taking Marlon’s other side.
I stiffened, the sight of her arm around Marlon’s waist bringing a familiar stab of jealousy.
Freida was Marlon’s closest friend aside from me, and they spoke together in a language I didn’t understand about things I didn’t want to understand.
I hated it especially when he brought her home.
When we got to my car, I opened the backseat door and together, we shoved Marlon’s drunk ass inside.
I slammed the car door so hard that the car shook.
Marlon didn’t even stir.
“Sorry,” Freida bit her plump bottom lip and wringed her hands. “I shouldn’t have let him get so drunk. I told him—”
“He’s not your responsibility,” I said simply, turning to get in the driver’s seat.
“Wait,” Freida called.
I straightened and looked at her without expression.
She cleared her throat. “I just wanted to say that Marlon’s very lucky to have you. And he didn’t touch any of us tonight.”
But he had, every other time.
“What did he tell you?” I asked quietly.
“Nothing,” Freida hastened. “If I were him, I’d be very happy to have you, that’s all.”
And there it was, that look of pity that told me exactly how much she knew. Marlon had told her everything, maybe even of his intention to screw me.
Something inside me died.
I loved Marlon, but there were times I really hated him.
I stared silently at the stunning brunette who was trying her best to look unthreatening. I was bitterly jealous of her, but it wasn’t her fault that Marlon was a manwhore with all the self-control of a hare.
“Go back inside,” I finally said. “It’s cold out here.”
Without another word to Marlon’s favorite fuck buddy, I got in the car and sped off, not wanting to spend a second more in that damned place.
Back outside our apartment, I was stumbling under Marlon’s weight and trying to get the key into the door when he suddenly stirred.
“Emma,” he breathed into my ear. “Emmaline Brown.”
“So you still remember my name,” I said coldly.
I finally got the door open and shoved my way into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind me.
Then I stumbled down the hallway to Marlon’s bedroom and dumped him on the bed.
Marlon caught my wrist somehow and pulled me down with him. I fell over his bare chest, sinking my fingers into the hard muscles of his pecs.
“Hey.” He lifted his head and grinned at me lazily. “My pretty raven.”
I looked away. “Don’t. This isn’t funny.”
Marlon didn’t hear me. He tightened his arms around my waist and turned, trapping me between him and the mattress.
My eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
“Looking at you.” Marlon tilted his head. His hazel eyes drunkenly coasted over my face. “I want to taste you again,” he murmured.
Before I could say a word, he crushed his mouth to mine.
I should have said no.
I should have pushed him away.
Instead, I wrapped my arms around his chest and parted my lips for him.
Marlon’s mouth was demanding as he made me open wider, his tongue toying with mine, drawing me out and not allowing me to retreat. His forearms caged on either side of my head and held me still as he explored my mouth. His erection ground crudely between my legs, right where I was wet and aching.
This kiss wasn’t sweet like the one before. This time, it was raw, intense, demanding.
It was too much for me.
I planted my hands on Marlon’s chest and shoved him back.
Then I slapped him so hard his head snapped to the side. The crack of my palm was deafening in the sudden silence of the room.
Marlon froze in that position for a second, breathing harshly.
Slowly, he turned back to me, the lust haze in his eyes giving way to fury. “What the fuck?”
“You asshole,” I whispered shakily. “You fucking asshole, is everything just a game to you?”
Marlon looked incredulous. “Which part of this looks like a game?”
“Every part! You’re drunk, you jerk!” Angry tears pricked at my eyes. “First you kiss me, then you go off to your fuck buddies, and here you are trying to screw me, all in the same night! What the fuck is wrong with you!”
Marlon’s brows drew together. “Em—”
“Why does it have to be you?” I shook my head, so fucking sick of holding back all the pain. “Why you? God, I’m such an idiot…”
Tears slid from the corners of my eyes and fell into Marlon’s hands where he cupped my face. He thumbed them away.
“Don’t,” he murmured.
His beautiful face became blurry as more tears came. “I hate you,” I whispered.
“You love me.” Marlon lowered his head and pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck. “You love me.”
This was the bed where he screwed his girlfriends, and here I was, right in the center of it like I always told myself not to do.
But I had no more strength left to hold on to the edge.
I let myself freefall.
I sank my hands into Marlon’s hair and yanked his head up, kissing him desperately, pouring every ounce of my broken heart into it.
“Make love to me,” I whispered against his lips, tasting the salt of my tears.
Marlon didn’t wait for me to change my mind. He rose up on his knees, his gaze burning on my face as he undid the button on my cargo pants.
I turned my face to the side of his bedroom, not wanting to meet his eyes as he undressed me.
The zipper lowered, then the top of my pants was dragged past my hips, past my ass, and finally off my body. Cool air caressed my bare thighs and legs, and I squeezed my eyes shut.
I felt Marlon’s fingertips tracing the hem of my panties. His warm touch skimmed over my belly, over the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. He was taking his time.
I swallowed hard. “Hurry.”
“It’s your first time,” came his voice, low and hypnotic. “I want you to remember this for the rest of your life.”
He didn’t have to try. I already knew I would.
After a few more moments of teasing, Marlon’s fingers finally hooked around the waistband of my panties and slid it down my legs.
My hands instinctively moved to cover myself.
“Don’t hide. I want to see you.” Marlon brushed my hands aside and grasped my knees, parting them wide. My cheeks burned as his heavy-lidded gaze took me in.
“You’re already wet.” He reached out and touched his finger to my slit, and I bit my lip when pleasure shot through my body.
Marlon watched my face alertly for my reaction as he stroked me again. This time, his finger slicked over my clit.
A breathless moan slipped out of me, and Marlon’s expression changed when he heard the sound.
He grasped the hem of my tank top, looking more intent than I had ever seen him. I lifted my arms to help him take it off, and he tossed the top onto the floor.
All that was left was my sports bra.
I licked my lips nervously. “Maybe we should turn out the lights.”
Marlon’s heated gaze left my chest and met mine. “Don’t hide from me, Emmaline. I want to see all of you.”
He kept his eyes on me, silently commanding me to watch him as he slipped his fingers under the tight elastic of my bra.
I swallowed hard and lifted my arms again, allowing him to peel it off me.
I was completely naked now.
My hands settled at his shoulders and curled into fists, and my limbs shivered from the adrenaline.
There had been other girls who saw me in the showers at the academy, but I had never been exposed to anyone in this way before. It was the most vulnerable I had ever been.
Marlon’s gaze coasted over my body, taking in every detail of me. He reached out and touched a finger to the red marks the bra had left on my skin, then he moved to cup my breasts, which just filled his hands.
“Perfeito,” he said to himself, his brows drawn as he kneaded and squeezed me. He rubbed his thumbs over my hardened nipples, rolling the tips under them.
Untamed (New York Heirs #1.5) Page 6