I didn’t feel like such a “good girl” as I was grinding my ass into Marcus on the dance floor singing along to Robin Thicke. But the lines were certainly becoming blurred and my vision pretty hazy. This night was turning into a lot of fun. Marcus and I were having a lot of fun. Even if it was becoming that kind of will-we-regret-this-tomorrow kind of fun.
“Hey sexy, need another drink?” The two of us halted our inappropriate display to see Jenifer, the one with one ‘N’ not two as she always had to correct, taking it all in.
“Nah, Jen we’re good. Right, sexy?”
Good was one word for it. So was intoxicated, plastered and drunk-off-my-face. “Mmmhhhm. How ‘bout water?”
“Someone’s going to have a nasty hangover in the morning.” Jenifer all but sang.
Dismissing Jen and her one ‘N,’ Marcus looped his arm around my neck. “Yeah, not if I can help it. Come on, babe, let’s get you some water.” Marcus ushered me back to our table with a protective grip.
He left me there to head to the bar and when I finally sat down, things really started to spin. Like Tilt-a-Whirl at Coney Island spin. I took a napkin and patted my face, leaning forward and trying to fight the nausea that was making its way up.
“Here. Drink this. You don’t look too good.”
I glanced up, expecting to meet eyes with Marcus, but instead was greeted by Seth, a design engineer at GX. “Thank you!” I blurted out before gulping down the entire ice-cold contents of the glass and slamming it back down on the table.
“You okay, Tessa? Need a ride home?”
Did I need a ride home? Hmm, something to ponder. I hadn’t been with a man since… and come to think of it, Seth was pretty hot. Jesus, Tessa. Tame yourself. He’s trying to be a gentleman and you’re all desperate and horny.
“No, I think I’m okay. Nothing another glass of water won’t fix.”
Marcus appeared out of nowhere. “Well, then aren’t you glad I brought you another, pretty girl? Thanks, Seth. I can take if from here.”
“Can you, Marcus? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure the shots you were feeding her are what got her where she is right now.”
The two men stared at each other as if a sparring match was about to start any second—a duel, a quarrel, a showdown to prove whose goddamn water was better.
“Save it, Seth. I would never do anything to hurt Tessa. She’s a friend. I’ve known her since I was a kid.”
And there it was. That was sobering. No matter how much fun we were having out there pretending and flirting, the truth was that I was just a friend. Was I a moron to think that Marcus the Stud could really see me as anything other than his older sister’s gal pal?
“You know what, Seth. I might just take you up on that offer. Let me just grab my purse and…”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up. What just happened here?” Marcus’s eyes narrowed to slits as he appraised the situation.
“You heard her, Marcus. She’s ready to go home.”
“Shut up, Seth,” he said without taking his eyes off mine. “We were having a good time. What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?”
“Nope, not at all. You’re my friend and friends should be allowed to have a good time together without worrying about who the other goes home with. Right, friend?” I didn’t know why I was getting so bent out of shape. I had no right to make it like we were anything more than friends, but for some reason hearing Marcus call me that to a man who seemed interested in being more than just friends… it just burned my ass.
“Seth? Does the offer still stand?”
Without speaking a response, Seth reached for my hand and started to lead me toward the exit.
Until Marcus’s tattooed hand clamped down on his shoulder. “Fat chance, fucko. I wouldn’t let her go home in that condition with anyone. That wouldn’t make me a good friend at all. So goodnight, Seth. She’ll see you in the office on Monday.”
“You two have issues. Hope you make it home in one piece.” Seth turned away, his interest instantly caught by the drink-toting Jenifer. And here I thought he was a gentleman. He was only looking for someone to go home with.
I spun around, slightly embarrassed. Okay. More like utterly mortified.
“What was that all about? You really wanted to go home with that douche?”
I closed my eyes in an attempt to collect my scattered thoughts, the ones that were sprinkled all around me in a mess of confusion because of the man standing in front of me. “Forget it, Marcus. I’m drunk and tired and I just want to go home. I’m calling a cab.”
“First of all, please drink this. Second of all, you’re not going home in a cab at this hour all alone. Third of all, look at me.”
Look at him? Why? So he could melt me again? Make me feel all these crazy, irrational things I wasn’t supposed to be feeling about him? Without looking at him, I politely took the water from his hands, drained the glass and then started toward the exit again. This time alone.
As I stepped outside, the fresh, crisp air of the spring night nipped at my bare shoulders and swayed in my hair. I felt his hand at my waist.
“Wait, Tessa. Please. What did I do?”
“Nothing! You did absolutely nothing!” The alcohol was really making me seem bi-polar. I was suddenly angry at all the nothing that was taking place around us. He did nothing while making me feel a whole lot of something.
Marcus just stared at me as my chest heaved. I was breathless and trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. His gaze went from concerned to heated in an instantaneous rush of something I simply couldn’t explain.
I stood with my back against the brick wall of the club as Marcus wrapped his fingers in my hair and pinned me back. Unable to move, unable to speak, I just waited. His lips crushed mine with the most intense want I ever felt from a man. Maybe I was wrong about the friend thing after all. Add blind and dumb to the list of things alcohol did to me.
It felt like time had stopped and the world ceased to spin as his tongue tasted mine and his lips worked their magic. My body became one with the wall, my mouth and limbs controlled only by Marcus’s touch. His tongue prowled inside of me, as if exploring and discovering something for the very first time. His hands roamed—my face, my arms, my chest and my hips. Our kiss grew more and more intense and the delicious flicks of his skillful tongue had me on the brink of whimpering right there on the sidewalk. Little Marcus Grayson was a fantastic kisser. Holy shit! I’m kissing Little Marcus Grayson.
“Stop. We can’t.” I pulled away, biting my lip. I didn’t exactly want to stop, but it was probably the right thing to do.
“Oh my God, Tessa. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” His grey eyes sparkled with satisfaction.
Huh?
“Seriously?”
His finger was at my lips now, grazing the swollen flesh. “Seriously.”
“Wait, Tessa. Please. What did I do?”
“Nothing! You did absolutely nothing!” Seemed like the words nothing and friend were pissing her off.
In that moment something changed in me. Something profound, in my eyes at least. I stared at this beautiful woman trying to catch her breath, her chest heaving. I hoped she was breathless for the same reasons as I was. I felt like the wind had just been knocked out of me simply by looking at her.
As she stood with her back against the wall, something pulled me toward her. Something magnetic, powerful, irresistible. I fisted a chunk of her corkscrew curls and pinned her against the wall, my palm on her bare shoulder. She didn’t move, or speak and time seemed to creep by as I wondered if what I was about to do would cross some kind of line. I had never cared to think about screwing up one of Riley’s friendships before, but Tessa was different. She was special. I was beginning to think I wanted a bit of her specialness in my life.
Before I could think about right or wrong or what my sister would have to say, my mouth crashed down over her beautiful lips, thinking of an old Dave Matthews song and how the lyrics suddenl
y held so much meaning. I’d always wanted to crash into Tessa. For as long as I could remember.
Time stood still, sparks seemed to fly as our tongues tangled together in the best kiss I’ve ever had. Maybe it was the pent-up angst, but lips finally playing with Tessa’s… it felt fucking magical. She let me control every flick, every suck, and in turn, every single emotion that rendered us helpless to this inexplicable connection we seemed to share. I explored her mouth with my tongue and her body with my hands and in that moment I felt I’d never get enough. I also felt that my sister was going to wring my neck for messing around with Tessa Bradley.
“Stop. We can’t.” She pulled away, biting her already swollen lip.
I was like a teenage geek all over again, stumbling for the right words to say. “Oh my God, Tessa. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
“Seriously?”
I grazed her luscious pout with my fingertip. All I could muster up in response was the same word. “Seriously.”
Instead of a cab, we opted for hoofing it to the subway station and taking good old PT back home. She let me hold her hand. Fuck, I’d never held a girl’s hand while strolling around the city before. What the hell was she doing to me? It felt emasculating, like I was softening. And while it scared the bejeezus out of me it also felt really good.
“Marcus, this is all so… fun and unexpected, but we cannot speak a word of this to Riley. She’d be pissed and honestly, I don’t even know what any of this means.”
That made two of us. I hadn’t the foggiest damn idea what any of this meant. “Why does it have to mean anything? Why can’t it just be?”
Now, that sounded philosophical, if I said so myself. But in all honesty why couldn’t it just be what it was? Nothing more, nothing less. Just two old friends who were attracted to each other and liked being around one another.
“That might be one of the smartest things you’ve ever said, Little Marcus Grayson.”
“Little? Did you just call me little, Tessie Spano?”
Her hand fell from my grip as she whaled it at me, smacking my stiffened arm. When she made contact, it looked like it hurt. “See. Not little at all.” I flexed, concentrating all of my energy into the balls created by my fists. “Me big strong man.”
She laughed and the sound that reverberated through the subway terminal was musical. I liked making her laugh. “You’re such a doof, Marcus. An adorable one, though.”
Uh, oh. This was heading back into that I’m her friend’s kid brother territory. Deflect and reroute, Grayson. “Adorable? Is that all? There’ve been a lot of words used to describe me in my latter years, young lady, but adorable isn’t one of them.”
“Oh no? Is ass one of them?”
“Come to think of it, yes. I’ve been called that on many occasions.”
I was expecting a noogie at the top of my head at this point. I wanted her to touch me, in any way imaginable, but a playful grind of her knuckles to my skull was so not what I had in mind.
The train pulled into the terminal, distracting us from our good-humored teasing. I stepped aside and ushered her inside with a hand at the top of her perfect ass. I found myself excited that we’d have at least another forty-five minutes to spend together.
The car we entered was virtually empty, except for a mess-of-a-man in a suit, his tie undone, his comb over un-combed-over. With my open palm I gestured for her to take a seat. “The world is your oyster, madam.”
“I wouldn’t consider any of these seats my oyster, dude. Just pick the one that reeks the least of urine.”
“Point well made. Um, I choose… this one.” I chose one of those tiny two-seaters in the very corner of the car. Cozy and intimate and far away from the man who looked like Michael Douglas in “Falling Down.”
I took a seat and pulled Tessa down on top of me, her perfect ass landing in my lap with a squeal from her equally perfect mouth. “There’re a lot of seats, Marcus. I don’t have to sit on top of you.”
“You don’t have to, but the question is, pretty girl, do you want to?”
I watched her lips twitch up in amusement, her eyes sparkle with what I’d grown to recognize as desire. Her small, delicate hand reached up and caressed my scruffy face. “You’re too much, Marcus. You know that, right?”
Too much was a good thing when you were trying to convince a beautiful angel that you weren’t Little Marcus Grayson anymore. Without allowing my thoughts to get in the way, I leaned in for another kiss. This time there was nothing slow or sweet about it. It was ravenous… I was ravenous. And I was pretty damn sure she wanted to eat me alive too. Michael Douglas was about to get a show and neither of us gave a flying shit.
“Mmm, Marcus. Soooo good, but you make me think too much.”
I didn’t want her thinking right now. I wanted to flood all of her other senses and make her forget all the reasons we shouldn’t be mauling each other on the subway. So I didn’t respond with words. Just touch.
Hands tugged hair, noses collided, tongues and lips danced; the kiss seemed to last the entire way home. I don’t know how we heard the announcement for her stop, but it was a small miracle we were both thankful for. Well, kind of. I would have done another trip in and out of Brooklyn just to experience that fucking kiss again.
With my hands still buried in her curls, she pulled back and announced breathlessly, “Looks like we’re here.”
“Yup, looks like it.” I said as I stared into her stormy blue eyes. She was breathtaking. Did she even know it?
She stood up and I followed, not certain of what should happen next. This was her stop, not mine. I didn’t want to assume, but I also didn’t want to say goodnight.
“This is going to come out wrong, but… it’s late, we’ve both had a lot to drink… I won’t be able to sleep knowing I left you all alone to fend for yourself with disgruntled business dude over there.” Her thumb pointed in the direction of our new friend Michael and I laughed, nervously awaiting the rest of what she had to say. “Why don’t you come to my house and crash on the couch?”
My eyes must have grown to the size of the moon.
“Not even happening, Marcus. Couch. That’s it.”
I’d take what I could get. “A challenge? I love a challenge, pretty girl.”
I had to be losing my mind. Yup, that’s it. I was losing it because I was completely sober, yet I had just asked Marcus to stay the night.
What would the babysitter think? What would Marcus think when he had to get up in the morning way before noon because Luca was screaming his head off for a bottle? I really should have thought this through before I opened my big stupid trap.
“You okay?”
Was it that obvious? It shouldn’t be a big deal. I’d slept over at Riley’s hundreds of times to wake up to Marcus in the kitchen with a bowl of Cheerios. But this would be different. So very different.
Trying to mask the sudden swarm of butterflies flitting around my stomach, I thought of something to divert my attention from the vision of a sex god spending the night. “Yes. I’m fine, just worried you won’t be too keen on the morning wake-up call. Luca gets up with the sun.” I looked at my watch. “And that’s not too far off.”
He held my palm against his bulging chest as we continued our stroll from the train stop to my house. “Tess, you insult me. I’m not the slacker you think I am. I’ve gone days with no sleep. If you can keep your hands to yourself and go right to bed, I’ll get enough beauty rest to be my irresistible self in the morning.”
Wiseass. He was the world’s biggest wiseass. “I’m keeping my hands to myself and so are you. Couch, remember?”
“Yes, how could I forget?” he said it like a kid who was just warned about brushing his teeth. “This will be a real first for me.”
“What? Sleeping on a couch?”
The devil himself couldn’t have smirked as deviously as he did. “No. Sleeping on the couch alone while the woman who invited me to spend the night is all comfy and
cozy upstairs in her bed.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything.”
“Yeah, how is this a first for you?”
The question was simple, but with a flirtatious undertone—I wasn’t sure how he made it sound so… sensual. I liked this playful side to him and I wanted to see if I, too, had it in me to play.
“First time I’ll be having a Grayson sleepover without Riley.”
“Come on. You need my sister to protect you?” he joked. “Okay, my turn. First time I’ll be inches from a woman—in nothing but my underwear—who won’t let me touch her.”
He was unnerving. How the hell was I going to get my beauty rest with him half naked right under my nose? “Nothing but your underwear? You can’t keep your shirt on?”
“I usually sleep in the nude, so there you go—another first. But maybe I will sleep with this shirt on,” he tugged at the V-neck of his fitted black t-shirt and sniffed, closing his eyes and licking his lips. “Smells like you. So sweet and sexy.”
My panties were about to combust. “I don’t like this game anymore. You don’t play fair.”
He inched closer to me, dropping his heavy arm around my shoulders and then massaging the back of my neck between his strong fingers. “I never said I played fair. I hate following the rules.”
Shivers, tingles, butterflies. He was killing me, but we were turning my corner and nearing my house. I had to amp myself up for the expression on Trish’s face when I walked through the door arm-in-arm with Mr. Panty Dropper in all his rugged glory. “Well, then there’s another first. Rule number one: no more schmoozing. You’re clouding my judgment.”
“Good! That means you haven’t totally broken me yet.”
His grip around my shoulder tensed and then he let his arm fall back to his side. It was the first time we’d broke contact since I’d sat on his lap in the subway. The sudden disconnection made me think he regretted his admission. But, honestly, how could I be breaking Marcus Grayson?
Keep Me Page 5