I Take Thee (5 page)

and his nose was a bit on the flat side.

Yep.

The guy was no Brad Pitt.

Which was good.

Very, very good to realize, for some reason.

Come think of it, the guy had the face of a Bull Dog.

Women didn’t exactly drool over Bull Dogs, now, did they?

And now he tried to recall whether Marly did—because she seemed to drool over all sorts of pets, especially the sorrier ones with no home and no one to love them.

“Good afternoon,” the stranger said in a deep, professional baritone. “I’m Jake.”

“Good day, Jake.”

Marcus felt his cheeks turn red and the top of his head felt like it was on fire. And then he knew what he wanted to do, and just like that, he slammed the door shut right on his face.

This jerk was not putting so much as a finger on Marly! What in the hell had he been thinking? If he didn’t know better, he could’ve sworn he’d blown something up his nose.

“Was that our man?” Marly asked as she emerged from the hallway in a fluffy white bathrobe.

He glared at her, though not on purpose. “I’m your man. I’m all the man you’ll get. I don’t want him touching you, Marly. Jeez, what the hell was I thinking!”

A knock came again. Marcus frowned at the closed door.

Marly asked, “Aren’t you going to open?”

“I’ll handle this.” Marcus swung the door open. “I think you got the wrong house, mister.”

The expression on the guy’s face revealed nothing. Hell, with that sort of face, the man could leave all of Marcus’s Wednesday poker buddies bankrupt. “Mr. Forrester?” he asked.

“That’s right.”

“I don’t think you understand. I’m the escort you requested,” he explained.

“I know, but you see, pal, we’ve changed our minds. Sorry. Better luck next time.”

He was close to succeeding in shutting the door when Marly stepped in to stop him, slipping a hand to keep the door from completely shutting.

“Marcus, where are your manners?” she demanded. “We made him come all the way here just to tell him that? He’s standing in the sun and we should at least offer lemonade.”

She pulled the door back open and waved him in. “Come in, please.”

Marcus stomped across the room, plunging his hands into the air in a full-blown rant.

“They’ve got my credit card, remember? We don’t need to play good neighbors!”

“We charge up front, Mr. Forrester,” the asshole said. “I believe Ginger must’ve told you that. The charge is made before the escort is dispatched—to avoid this sort of circumstance.” And this he finished with an empathic nod.

Marcus glared at him for saying that. Saving-minded, building-a-nest-is-a-priority, money-conscious Marly would really have a picnic over that now. When he risked looking at her, he confirmed his suspicion. Marly was shocked. “Marcus, we aren’t giving away our money! He’s staying now.”

“The hell he is.”

Marly drew in a breath, as though attempting to quell her exasperation. “Marcus, this was your idea.”

Marcus wanted to hit someone. He wanted to hit Jake. He met Marly’s questioning gaze. “I’m sorry, but this is more difficult than I thought.”

“Look, I’m just here to do a job,” Jake said stiffly. “If you’ll just tell me what you want me to do, I’d be happy to get right down to it.”

At the completely emotionless tone, Marly’s mouth formed a perfect “o”, her eyes drifting to Marcus. “Sweetheart, he’s just like the Terminator!”

Marcus opened his mouth, but before anything came out, an amused smile appeared on his lips. “Yeah.”

Marly looked awed. “Oh, wow.”

“Say bye-bye to Terminator now.” Marcus started for him, but Marly quickly clutched his elbow to halt him.

“Come on, M,” she said. “Just think of him as a robot. He’ll do exactly as you tell him, won’t you?”

“Yes,” Jake said, almost automatically.

Marcus sighed. “You see, Jake, we’ve got a little problem,” he explained, wanting to be fair to the guy, so he wouldn’t take this rejection personal. “My wife is experiencing a flood of strange hormones, and she’s very…well, she’s…”

“Horny,” Marly supplied with a smile, linking her arm to his.

“Yes. Horny. While I, well I’ve been doing my best but…”

“You can’t get it up, I get it,” said Jake.

Marcus frowned.

Now that just made him sound like a loser.

And who in the hell did the bastard think he was, to imply such a thing in his frickin’

own home?

Marly pressed to his side, the way she usually did when they met new people, and she absently stroked his forearm where her hand rested against it. It was suddenly, oddly reassuring, to look at the guy together, as two entities versus one.

It was certainly less threatening to Marcus.

But when Marly’s other hand began to roam, searching for what he was pretty damned certain was his cock, which was now expectedly at nap-time, Marcus clearly remembered the reason of why they needed him. He mentally and quickly counted his options—either get help or die—then said, “You don’t mind if we do a little QandA now, do you?”

Jake shrugged his shoulders as if they weighed over a ton. “Ask away.”

“Will you stop if I ask you to?”

“Of course.”

“Not do anything we don’t both agree on, and I mean Marly and I, not she and you, definitely not you and I?”

“Sure.”

“Use protection at all times?”

“As a rule.”

Marcus’s coal black eyes narrowed in menace. “Don’t you dare kiss her,” he warned, coiling an arm around her neck to drag her in front of him. He rubbed his thumb across her lips. “See this here? ‘Cause this here’s mine.” His hands moved, covering her breasts over the towel, cramming all he could into his palms. “And see these here?” he asked.

“These are mine, too. And do you see…”

“Marcus,” Marly said, catching his hands as they moved lower and quickly turning in his arms. “I’m all yours, baby. All. Yours. Just think of him as a big fat dildo.”

“He’s not a dildo. He’s a man.”

“And ours to command. Everything he does to me will be because you asked him to.”

Marcus warred within himself. The idea aroused him, and he knew Marly had fantasized about it, but his very heart recoiled. Past the top of Marly’s head, he glared at the escort. “I’d like to keep this impersonal, Jake. I don’t care to know where you live, or how many times your momma scolded you as a kid, got that?”

Jake looked amused. “Sir, I’m just here to fuck.”

“Good.”

“Where are you from, Jake?” Marly asked casually, whirling on her heel to face him.

“Dallas.”

“Oh, how nice,” she said. “You have any pets?”

Marcus stared at the top of her head in disbelief, rendered speechless for a moment.

“Hell, yeah. I got a Mastiff,” Jake said, and he almost, visibly grew an inch—the bastard looked so proud about the dog. “Six years old already. His name’s Rambo.”

“How sweet!” With a very unsuccessful attempt to stifle her giggle, Marly took a step toward him. “You see,” she explained, glancing at Marcus past her shoulder with a challenge in her eye. “I’ve been trying to convince Marcus to get a dog.”

“And be damned glad I didn’t,” Marcus snapped. “He would’ve been chasing your ass now that you’re a cat.”

She turned back to Jake, dismissing Marcus’s words with a flutter of her hand. “Any pictures of your dog, Jake?”

“Honey!” Marcus threw his hands up in the air. “I thought we were keeping it impersonal.”

“It’s just a dog, Marcus, it’s not a confession or anything. Besides this is the best way to break the ice.”

“He’s a gigolo, he doesn’t need to break the ice. He can start from the word go.

Can’t you?”

Jake blinked.

“Well, can’t you?” Marcus persisted.

“Sometimes.”

Marcus bristled with annoyance. “Well, are you ready
now
?” Marcus was very near to doing something violent. He had an erection, he had issues with his ego, and he had a gigolo in his home.

“Well?” Marcus prodded when all he got as answer was a slackened-jaw. Everyone knew who dumb and dumber was, well, this here was dumbest!

Marly sighed, whirling around to face him with her hands firmly planted on her hips.

“Honey, you’re making him nervous.”

“Heck, he’s making
me
nervous.”

His wife gifted him with a warm, sultry smile, and just like that, let the bathrobe fall into a puddle at her feet.

Marcus froze, and even without looking, some strange instinct told him so had Jake.

It was as if even the simple furniture in the room had taken notice of Marly’s nakedness, and now everything had gone completely still—except Marcus’s heartbeat.

Her body was Venus-like, lean, curvy, and ripe for pleasure. He watched her hips sway as she came forward, and even before her hand began to unwrap his towel, he felt himself harden. “Ignore him for a minute, M, because I’ve been aching for you for minutes and I can’t stand this anymore. I want you so much I’m shaking, and I feel like my bones are on fire. You’ve made me wait long enough.”

“It’s been only half an hour,” he said hoarsely, now everything forgotten. The jealousy. The other man’s presence. The strange hormone inside his wife. Now only one thing mattered, and that was
her
.

And how much he wanted her now.

How much he wanted to remind her she was his.

How much he ached to sink inside her, smell her hair, and kiss that delectable mouth of hers.

“That’s right, it’s been half an hour,” she quietly, but tremulously, said. “And I need you now.”

Marly’s hands were unsteady as she gently pried the towel open, letting it drop to the floor. Her husband’s body had always been magnificent, and to her, it was rivaled in beauty by no other.

Rather than wide and brawny, his muscles were lean and firm, making him both strong and agile. His chest was smooth and tanned, sprinkled with small, dark hairs that felt soft to the touch. His thighs, his chest, his perfect, rock-hard buttocks, she loved him all, every inch of him. And to have seen him so jealous of sharing her, and to know he was willing to do this for her even though it cost him dearly, had only made her love all the more—something she’d previously thought was impossible.

Now she could hardly keep her hands to herself. She wanted him, all of him, and it wasn’t just the hormone which demanded it. Her heart was fluttering in her chest, pumping fast, and aching to show her husband just how much he meant to her. More than anything. Anything in the world.

Marcus had been there when she’d been a little girl. He’d been there when she grew into a woman. And he was here now. Marly
did
believe in soul mates. She believed in there being a perfect someone that made you whole…and he was it for her.

Yes, she ached to be fucked. Her body quaked, and her blood raged inside her like a sickness, a poison, slow but lethal as it advanced. But now, more than anything, stronger than any hurting bone in her body, she ached to be loved.

Her heart moved inside her chest as she gazed at his face, every pore of it stored in her memory, her very heart. His eyes looked darker than the blackest night, those nights devoid of clouds, of moon and stars.

“Marly,” he rasped thickly, lids weighted down by desire. His fingers twined into her hair, tilting her face up so he could kiss her.

As soon as his lips clamped over hers, she felt assailed by him, his scent, his taste, his power. His kiss was gentle, but in every stroke of his tongue she could taste the hunger. The need in him. So fierce, it was barely held in check.

Her knees quivered with her own need to be filled, satisfied, taken. She wrapped her arms around his waist to keep from swaying on her unsteady legs, her head tilting under his so he could get better access.

Voracious, his tongue plunged, plundering every nook and cranny in her mouth only to then trail a path of hot, openmouthed kisses up her jaw. “God, I love you.” He dipped his tongue into her ear, a sloppy, wet kiss that sent shivers down her spine. “I love you.”

Eagerly, she kissed his lips, his jaw, his chin, sprinkling quick, wet kisses all over his face. “Marcus, I do. I do. I do. I love you, too.”

“Do you want to do this, Marly?” he murmured, drawing back to stare at her. Even his voice sounded gruffer than ever before.

Yes, oh, yes, she ached to do this. Needed to.
Had to
. Before she clawed at her own flesh and tried to scratch away the hurting. She nodded weakly, nipples quivering, sex tight with wanting, already pooled with wetness. Her legs almost folded as she slowly turned and faced their voyeuristic guest. His cocoa brown eyes were trained on her, drinking up her image like a man at his first sight of a woman.

Marly felt wanted. Desired. And so very female.

She hadn’t noticed Jake had undressed, but now he sat on the couch, his big hands curled around himself, gently working his cock as he watched her come forward. His toned, muscled legs were wide apart, granting her an undisturbed view of his balls, drawn high against the base of his cock, flushed crimson. She could almost swear they quivered inside him, laden with the come he ached to spill.

The veins in his cock had filled darkly, the plum-shaped head stretched tight. As she took the final steps toward him, she wondered if the gleaming wet skin was as smooth and warm as it looked, and whether her own hands could glide as easily as his did over his lengthy column.

Behind her, she heard Marcus flick a lamp on, and the room that had been gradually darkening by the setting sun was now bathed in warm, mellow light.

She could feel the wild hormones gushing through her body, the extra curl to her nails, the slow lengthening of her fangs. “Allow me.” She briefly met Jake’s hazy brown gaze as she knelt before him, then her attention was quickly drawn to his erection.

His hands dropped to his sides as the fingers of both hands enveloped him. She stroked him, from root to rim, so slowly it seemed to pain him, for he fell back on the couch and groaned heavily. His cock wavered back and forth at each of her pulls.

Behind her, she heard Marcus’s haggard breaths, felt his eyes bore into her back. Her body sung to his nearness, insides going aflutter for him, aflutter with knowing that he
watched
.