“Why do you always look so fucking sad?” he asked, taking a step toward me. “You go off into these places, and I watch your eyes and they’re moving everywhere. It’s like you’re searching, but then you’ll lift them to the sky and the sadness recedes a little.”
“I’m not sad. I’m just—”
He stepped in closer again. “You’re just what?”
“I’m wondering how I can look at you and see so many things I never saw before.”
“Are you ready for me to blow your mind?”
“I don’t know. Am I?”
“I think we agree on something again.”
“We do?”
“Yes. Because I’ve been wondering—fuck, more than wondering—it’s more like obsessing about how I know how much pain you caused, that I saw it, but knowing that isn’t who you are anymore.”
I didn’t know how to process what he’d said. He did see Alexis now, but with the face that matches all the pain and betrayal, could he see past that? Did I even want him to?
He took one more step closer, closing in on my personal space. “There you go again. Sad eyes.”
I needed out. I needed to get away from him and from him seeing what was under my skin, how he was affecting me. It was dangerous.
“Was there anything else you needed to discuss?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, his eyes running up and down my body. When he reached my face again, he sighed, a soft exhale of breath from his parted lips. “I want to know why you lied to me.”
“Lied? About what?”
“Well,” he said, clearing his throat, his demeanor changing to something nervous. “In doing some research into employee social media behavior, I came across Phoebe’s.”
“Okay. So what?”
“And I looked through her Instagram photos.”
“Okay again. So what?”
“Let me fucking finish,” he snapped. “Jesus. Give me time in between breaths to form my thoughts.”
I rolled my eyes before pretending I was zipping up my lips by running my fingers across them.
“Thank you,” he said. “My observation was that by casually scrolling through I came across a few photos of you. Upon further inspection at said photos, I noticed you were with a gentleman and that you looked…happy.”
He spit out “happy” like it was from the bad part of an apple. Here he was sapping about how I always looked sad, but then criticizing me when I appeared happy.
“Are you getting to the point?” I asked.
“The thing is, Al. You said you hadn’t dated anyone since Aaron, correct?”
“Yes. That’s true.”
“You also said that didn’t mean sex, right?”
I saw the train coming and knew right where this was going. Marshall was the conductor, and he was going to stop and unload it all right at me.
“Correct,” I replied.
“So you haven’t dated anyone?”
“Yes! That is what I said, and if that was what you were implying I was lying about then…”
His eyes narrowed at me, and he closed the small gap between us. “One more question, Al. Are you still sleeping with him?”
“Who?”
“The asshole in the photos,” he said. “Who the hell still wears Ed Hardy T-shirts and doesn’t know they’re walking around proclaiming their douche bag status?”
“I have no way of even answering this when I don’t know what photo or—”
“Who is he?”
The delivery of the question was stern, demanding. My gut reaction would be to tell him or any man who used that tone with me to go screw themselves.
So why didn’t I?
Why was it so hot he was getting into my personal business?
His jaw was clenched so tight a vein was protruding from the side of his neck as his chest rose and fell with rapid breathing. This wasn’t only him meddling in my private life.
He was jealous.
He was crazy, senseless jealous.
And it was hot as hell.
I scanned my brain for a time when I was out with Phoebe, photos were taken, and there would’ve been some with me and a guy. There was not a lot of recollections to choose from because it was something I normally never did.
“Oh!” I said when it came to me. “It was her birthday party last year. She begged and pleaded for me to come, said it was the only gift she wanted. As you can imagine, she lays it on pretty thick in the guilt department. So, I did for once.”
“And?”
“And what? That was what night that was.”
“I didn’t ask you what night it was. I asked you who the tool was with his hand almost on your ass?”
“Why do you even care?”
That stopped him in his tracks, and he retreated, both physically and emotionally. It seemed like he realized he was legitimately being insane and acting like a possessive boyfriend.
I wasn’t going to let him off that easy.
“I asked you a question now. Why do you care?”
“You fucking know why I care, Al.”
I did?
I did.
Shit.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know where to look or what to do because he had confronted it head-on. He was leaving it up to me to decipher, but he knew. He knew I knew because I felt the same way.
A loud crash of thunder hit close and made us both startle. It was a relief, a distraction from the intense volley of energy between us. It also was the perfect out.
“I better go,” I said.
I didn’t wait for him to stop me or ask any more questions. My feet moved quickly to the door, and even though I didn’t look, I could sense him right behind me.
Just before pushing my way out the door, I stopped.
“Shit,” I said, looking up at the sky.
The dark clouds that had circled all morning had unleashed all their angry fury in the form of buckets of rain. Steam rose from the street after being heated by the blazing midmorning heat.
It was going to be difficult to make an easy getaway.
“Where are you parked?” he asked, sticking his head out a bit to see how badly it was coming down.
I pointed toward my car. “Over there,” I said pointing to the opposite side of the parking lot.”
He leaned back against the doorframe. “I think this is going to continue for a while. You want to wait it out?”
I glanced at him, his blue eyes tinged red from his obvious lack of sleep. The black-and-blue remnants from his eye injury were fading, yellowing around the edges. I wanted to run my finger across the bruised flesh and allow him to feel my touch, know how much I cared.
“No,” I said. “I don’t.”
I did want to stay with him, but I wouldn’t. Things were shifting, and I didn’t want to stumble. I knew he didn’t, either. The kiss that had happened pushed it further than it should’ve ever gone. He was the one with all the restraint then. Now, I needed to be.
He had far more to lose than I did at this point. I’d already lost or abandoned everything I’d had.
“I’m closer.” He jutted out his chin. “I can drive you to your car if you’re game.”
“Game for what?”
“Getting a little…wet,” he said with a smirk.
“Really, Marshall,” I said, rolling my eyes. I stepped forward, the torrential rain past the doorway was soaking my feet straight through my socks and shoes.
He stepped up next to me, shoulder to shoulder our heights matched. Just like I had noticed when we kissed or maybe even before then. Our heads turned toward the other at the same moment, the powerful thunder vibrating the ground beneath us.
I didn’t want to run, but with the rain, I had no choice, right?
There were always choices. Right or wrong.
“Do you mind?” I asked.
His eyes narrowed, seemingly almost confused by my question, like he was wondering what I was asking. A ride to the car? Some
thing else?
He turned his body, stepping up closer. “I don’t mind at all, Al.”
Everything about this moment was wrong. Everything except the rain and us.
He turned and retrieved his keys from his back pocket, locking the doors to Ginger.
When he turned back around, his eyes looked me up and down. “Ready?” he asked as we moved forward, the rain continuing to flood everything around us.
“I’m ready.”
He pressed a button on his key fob. “See those lights?” he asked, pointing to the only illumination in the dark lot. “That’s me. Despite what the movie told you, run toward the light.”
I didn’t have time to think before his hand gripped mine and we took off. The deluge poured down on us, soaking our hair, our clothes and everything else in mere moments. Strong winds whipped the rain around, stinging the skin and making it impossible to see anything but the glow of his headlights guiding us. He never let go, tightly tangled fingers wrapped around mine, until we raced to our respective sides.
“Shit,” Marshall laughed as we slammed our doors shut.
“Right?”
We looked at each other, and there was nothing else to do but join Marshall in laughter. There wasn’t an inch of us that wasn’t wet; leftover rain ran in streams down our skin and fell in droplets from the ends of our hair.
“Do you need a paper towel?” he asked, reaching into the backseat with one hand and starting the car with the other.
I shook my head. “I don’t think that’ll even help.”
Even though it was still warm outside, I shivered from being soaked through my clothes. Marshall noticed and, without a word, flipped the heat on in the car. The blast from the vent took my chill away, but also made me focus on the fact that he wasn’t leaving the parking lot.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked.
“No. No more questions.”
He raised his eyebrows, and I knew he didn’t understand. I glanced at the window, the rain continuing to pound all around us with such force it was like we were going through a car wash. Marshall shifted in his seat, but my head didn’t turn as I felt the heat of him moving closer.
“Al?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you a question?” he asked. “Please?”
I nodded my head, knowing he wouldn’t give up until I did.
No way was I going to look at him. There was no budging in that area, though. I knew what was happening, and it was all too much. The rain, the closeness, the intent in his voice. I’d been out of the game a long time, but not long enough to not remember. Desire rose all around us, sending a different kind of shiver across my body, which was easily disguised by the continued warm air.
“Look at me,” he demanded, his tone shifting to something almost like a plea, but it held back on desperation.
I should’ve thrown the door open and run back out in the rain to the safety of my own car. I didn’t, though. I knew why I was there. He knew, too, and when there was nothing left for me to avoid, I caved, turning my eyes to his so he could begin to see the truth.
His dark eyelashes, which contrasted with his light hair, blinked rapidly. “The thing is,” he said. “I wondered if you’d help me out with something.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
His body turned toward mine; the only space separating us was the gearshift blocking our bodies. The only noise was from the rain, the thunder off in the distance, and our accelerated breathing.
He licked his bottom lip, staring at my own. “Why are you here?”
Asshole.
He saw it.
He knew.
Anything I’d say would only prolong denying that. He was calling my bluff. It made me uncomfortable, so I inched myself farther back in my seat to gain distance. I didn’t like that he was seeing through me, that he knew whatever we were fighting was about to come crashing through the car windows.
“You fucking know why, Marshall,” I said, mocking what he’d said to me minutes before.
A tentative smirk while his eyes still on my mouth was all the answer I needed, but he wasn’t going to let me off that easy. He was going to open the door and make sure I stepped in all on my own.
“I think you want to find out if we can fog up these windows all on our own,” he said.
Holy shit.
Maintain, Alexis. MAIN. TAIN.
“I thought you didn’t want to fuck me in a car, Marshall. You always go back on your word?” I scoffed. I was trying to push it back at him, rattle his bones, but it didn’t work.
He laughed. “Who said anything about fucking? I just happen to think making out in a car during a thunderstorm is sexy as hell.”
“Is that so?”
“Absolutely,” he said, reaching his hand to my face. His thumb ran across my lower lip as his eyes continued to stare at me. “Ever done it, Al?”
I wanted to tell him no and that it sounded hot, a level above hot even.
It would’ve been all over if I did, though.
His blue eyes lazily lifted from my lips to my eyes before he looked at me through his eyelashes. “I can’t stop this anymore, and I don’t think you can, either.”
His face. His mouth. His hands. They were so close I could feel the heat radiating off of him.
Who the hell was I kidding? It was over before I even got in the car.
The words of agreement were on the tip of my tongue, but whatever I’d say wasn’t enough. My acknowledgment, my yes, and everything I had to give was thrust upon his lips by my own. I wanted him to feel my want while swallowing the doubts haunting us from the outside world. We were just two people who were so very wrong, in so many ways, to the outside world. Right now, his hands cradling the sides of my face, the way he moaned softly against my mouth, told me the outside world could go to hell.
My heart beat to the rhythm of the rain, making me anxious for more of him.
Kisses got deeper.
Hands got rougher.
Moans got louder.
He bit at the bottom of my lip, tugging, before backing away from me. His fingers ran across my jawline, his eyes following their path before settling on mine.
It was all there. I saw it in his stare, felt it in his touch. It was why there was no wonderment when he flipped the heat to a different direction to defog the windows, and after several moments, he put the car in drive. We passed my car without questioning from either him or myself, because I knew. We knew.
No words were said as we traveled the half mile from Ginger to his home. At one point, he moved his hand from the gearshift to mine, slipping them together. It was reassurance, trust, and yearning all wrapped up into the grip we were holding on so tightly to.
The rain continued, harder and with more aggression. It did something to me. It was mysterious, the way a storm was unknown and without direction. It was like the storm, the tornado, circling around Marshall and I. There was no way of deciphering where this would take us and what would be left when it was over. However, like the weather, you couldn’t always predict what would happen. Sometimes you had no choice but to stand in the rain and make your body come alive.
And I let that rain rid my body of doubt, as we exited the car, to find what living in the moment meant.
And it wasn’t a sprint to his door.
Maybe it was because we were both taking the extra time to be sure the other was, too.
He unlocked the door, me standing close behind him, and he stepped inside. I had barely cleared the threshold when his hand seized mine, yanking me in. My body was pushed up against the wall as our lips crashed together in a mad, mad panic. Cries and whimpers transferred between our lips, our tongues, because of everything that was hiding behind basic sexual greed.
His kisses moved from my lips down across my jaw before he pulled my head to the side, the tip of his tongue running down the length of my neck. Teeth gingerly scratched at my skin, his tongue followed up behind it, easing the area. H
is hand tugged down the front of my V-neck T-shirt and continued its path, his other hand working my hardened nipple from beneath my shirt.
It was like he was drinking me all in.
He paused for a moment, raising his eyes from my chest, his beard tickling my skin, to gaze at me. A wicked grin spread across his face before he licked his lips. “I think I know the answer already, but I still need confirmation. So, let me ask you, are you ready for me?” he asked.
I nodded, unable to answer anything with his lips, the tip of his tongue, skimming across the hollow of my neck, down between my breasts.
“What was that?” he asked. “I didn’t hear you.”
He nipped at the side of my breast through my bra, and it only furthered my ability to respond to him. I rotated my hips, pushing myself into him, but he eased back. He knew I was trying to find the friction.
“I still don’t hear you.” He breathed in my air. “Answer me, Al. Answer me or I can’t go on.”
His hand slid down across my stomach and down.
Down.
Down.
Until the palm of his hand was resting against the seam of my jeans.
“I’m running this show for right now,” he said as he began to rub a finger against the area, applying just the right amount of pressure. “You’ll have your turn, but right now, I need you to listen to me. I need you to answer me. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you, Al.”
God, he was getting dirty, and while I never was one to take demands either in bed or out of it, the way his eyes were burning right though mine made me want everything he was giving me. It was making me want more.
“Al?” he asked. “Are you not going to answer me?”
I attempted to answer him, but I couldn’t even recall what my name was with his fingers pressing directly above, but not on my clit. “What was the question again?” I asked, breathless.
“Are you ready for me?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded my head, unable to answer him again with even a simple yes.
My body was responding to him because I wanted him. However, there was this underlying current, this gentle energy, that always reminded me who Marshall was, who he would always be. Aaron’s best friend. I had already done so much damage when I left Aaron, and now, how much more would I cause by being with Marshall?
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