Thirty Days: Part One (14 page)

He smiles. “I wish you’d stay.” Those eyes, and that face, make me second-guess myself, but I don’t allow myself a chance to falter.

“I—”

“You’re biting your lip. When you do that…fuck, it’s hot.” His words are filled with hunger, and before I’m out of arm’s reach, he grabs me until I’m against his chest.

“Fuck it!” I exclaim, franticly lifting the hem of his shirt as my lips crash hard against his.

Our mouths part for a moment while he removes his shirt in one swift movement. Tight muscles tense beneath my touch, and I thank the Lord for the body that now rests under my fingertips.

“Abigail,” he groans into my mouth as he slowly lowers the zipper of my dress. His hands run along my spine, stopping at the seam of my underwear. “Fuck me,” he commands when he realises I’m braless, and my breasts push against him as my dress falls away to the floor. He lifts me off the ground with ease, and my legs wrap around his waist. The warmth of his skin against mine sends tingles through my extremities. “The things I want to do to you,” he declares, carrying me back into the suite.

Gently, he lowers me until I rest against a surface so soft I feel like I’m being cradled by a cloud.

My heart beats rapidly, my breath replicating the rhythm.

For a moment Marcus disappears. I close my eyes.

“Abigail, look at me,” he urges a second later.

I do.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I manage to get out.

The top button of his jeans undoes as his hand lowers his zipper. “Do you want to do this with me?” The tone of his voice keeps me calm long enough to give the answer that feels so right, although I know is so incredibly wrong.

“Yes.”

I’m mesmerised by the godlike creature standing in front of me. How in the world I got here, and why in the world I’m allowing this to happen are questions that remain unanswered as he springs free from his jeans. I’m surprised that he’s not wearing underwear, but I’m grateful that he seems a perfect size for me to take.

Kneeling on the bed between my legs, he whispers, “You’re beautiful,” before his body hovers over mine. Placing both hands on the mattress beside my head, he gazes into my eyes. The dark chocolate colour becomes hypnotic as he hushes all thoughts of previous uncertainty.

It’s quiet—peaceful—apart from each breath we take in unison to sustain life.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he says, breaking the silence.

I nod.

A commanding tongue swirls in my mouth and everything in this one action feels natural, like I belong right here with him. Soon the absence of his lips against mine causes sudden panic to rush through my veins. His mouth returns in time to the skin above my breast, bringing back the calm.

Taking time, he explores each breast before fingers slide into the top of my underwear, resting on my pubic bone.

“I want to see every bit of you,” he groans as he slides the last piece of material covering my skin away.

Five long fingers glide up my inner thighs, tickling, caressing, until they stop at my opening. “Abigail,” he breathes before entering me quickly.

“Holy shit,” I gasp as my back arches, and I call out in pleasure—pleasure I’d almost forgotten existed. Each movement causes my stomach muscles to tighten. “Marcus,” I whimper with need as he takes his time getting acquainted inside me. “Stop,” I cry suddenly as my body begins to reach climax.

He immediately moves away. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” I reply, trying to catch my breath.

“Do you want me?”

“I don’t know.”

He kneels between my legs once more and hunches over me, brushing my cheek with his fingertips before tasting my lips. “It’s okay, Abi. I’m not going to hurt you.” His eyes are hungry with need. It makes me want this moment with him so much more.

“I know you won’t.” How I know this is unclear, but I feel like I’ve known him all of my life. Reaching up, I run my fingers through his hair, clutching a clump, pulling his head down until our mouths find each other once more.

He kisses me with want before we’re forced apart for air.

“Abigail, I need to be inside you, now.” His voice is primal, and I give my consent without thought.

I watch his hand reach for the foil wrapper I glimpse lying on the bed. Ripping it open with his teeth, I still, panting and admiring his body now upright in front of me. “Are you okay?” he asks as if needing reassurance that I won’t freak out again.

“Marcus...” Our eyes connect. “It’s been a long time for me.”

Full lips curve upwards. “I won’t hurt you, just keep your eyes here and don’t look away.” He points to his eyes.

I do.

“I want you, all of you,” he groans as inch by inch he pushes inside me until he’s nestled. “Abigail,” he groans with pleasure, casting all my fears aside as I hear my name from his lips.

Each thrust is gentle, his mouth attentive to every piece of my skin it can reach. I’m lost in the moment. Nothing but this right now could make me happy.

“Harder,” I pant.

He complies.

“More,” I beg.

He thrusts deeper into me, picking up the pace with every moan that gets more desperate as it vibrates from my throat.

Every part of me screams for release. “Please, please, Marcus.”

He grunts in response, his mouth devouring me.

Stars begin to replace my vision. My eyes close just as my body tenses, and I allow myself to get lost in the purity of a well needed release. Blurry eyes finally open once I gather my equilibrium. They open just in time to capture him succumbing to his own pleasure and it truly is a sight I’m glad I didn’t miss.

We stay connected, staring, touching, and tasting until he finally rolls from on top to my side.

“Abi, that was amazing.” His breath is still in limbo as he tries to catch it.

I want to reply with, ‘I’ve never felt anything like that in my life’, but I don’t.

He places his arms around me and pulls our bodies together. Feather kisses trace my nose. “Wow,” he mouths, still coming down from his high. “Are you okay?”

And with that one question I realise that I’m not okay and this was a mistake
. Instant regret.

“Are you coming?” he asks, standing from the bed with the evidence of our deed tucked in his closed hand.

“Where?” I pull the sheet around me, sitting up.

“The shower.”

“You go. I’ll take one after you.”

“Are you sure?” Confusion is etched on his face.

“Yep.”

A firm arse walks past me and enters a door not far from the bed. The sound of running water makes me want to pee, but there’s no way I’m going in there with him. Hell, I don’t even know who he is and he has no idea who the fuck I am. What I do know is he can fuck a woman in a way I’ve never known and that in itself tells me he’s a manwhore like I suspected.
What have I done?

Soon the door opens and he returns to the room, turning a lamp on next to the bed. His skin glistens with water droplets and his hair is messy. The just fucked look is an expression he wears way too well and it’s sexy as hell. My eyes scan his body.
Perfection.
He definitely works out, a lot. Me, not at all. We have nothing in common from appearances alone. The V that hides his manhood behind the towel wrapped around his waist gets my juices flowing just from the sight. I need to get the fuck out of here.
How can I be regretful and still want to have him in me again? This makes no fucking sense.

“Your turn.” His million-dollar smile sparkles.

How can someone be blessed with such looks? My God!

“Okay.” I pull up, wrapping the sheet around me as I stand.

“What are you doing?” He stops in front of me.

“Going to clean up, why?”

“What’s with the sheet?”

“You know, keeping some dignity intact.”

“I’ve already seen what’s under there. You shouldn’t hide yourself like that.” He attempts to remove it gently, but I hold on. “Abigail, you’re beautiful.” His fingers run through my hair before bringing his lips to mine. “Those lips,” he moans against my mouth. “They’re perfect, just like the rest of you. Lose the sheet.”

“I think I’ll keep it for now.”

His shoulders shrug, displeased.

***

The bathroom is immaculate and smells fresh like rain.
Clean.
I inhale a deep breath, enjoying the smell, his smell, before looking around. The en suite is as big as the rest of the place. Spa, shower, and toilet all reside on one side of the room. A double basin and vanity run the length of the other side.
How can he afford this
? Maybe he has wealthy parents, or he’s married and his wife is loaded. The urge to open the drawers and cupboards for evidence crosses my mind. But I refrain and take a quick shower to wash away my mistake, hoping that this has only been a dream and I’ll wake up sticky from its dirtiness, but untouched. One can only hope.

A towel has been placed on the vanity, for me, I’m assuming. I wrap it around my body and tiptoe towards the door.
Please don’t be out there.

“Hi,” I say shyly. He’s scowling, sitting on the bed in a long pair of cotton pajama bottoms.

“You look disappointed. What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing. It’s…you know what, it’s nothing. I’ve had fun.”

He stands, swaggering towards me.
Oh Lord, he’s all kinds of fine.
Leaning his face in close, he takes my bottom lip between his lips, clamping down, and then releases it as swiftly as he claimed it. His hands free the towel covering my body and it drops to the floor. Stepping backwards, he eyes me up and down. “Wow! You’re even hotter in the light.”

I’ve never felt so vulnerable in my entire life. My legs begin to shake.

“Come.” He takes my hand securely in his before lowering me onto the bed. “Lie with me,” he says as if asking.

I do.

Tucked in his arms, I feel a strange sense of safety from a man I’ve just met.

But why does this seem odd?

***

Smooth skin lies under my fingertips, skin that belongs to the man who claimed me tonight. His fingers twirl in my hair as his breathing slows to the point I can tell sleep is moments away. As he succumbs to this need, I lie there, angry at myself. Angry at my lack of control. At the position I’m now in. I haven’t slept with anyone since Mike, and Mike was my first. So Marcus makes the number two spot on how many people I’ve allowed to touch me in this way. This makes me beyond pissed.
Why did I let this happen?
I needed it to be Mike only, the man who shattered my heart. The man who rejected me. Now, there’s one more. Marcus has stolen something from me that I can’t get back.
Fuck! Now I’m the whore!

Knowing I can’t stay here the night, I begin devising a plan to sneak out. Wiggling my body little by little, his heavy arms slide free, and I ease myself from the bed.

“Where the fuck is my dress?” I whisper.

“On the balcony,” Marcus answers.

Great.

Climbing out from the sheets, he walks past me without a single glance. The door remains open after his exit and as quickly as he left he returns with the missing item in hand. Giving it to me, he sits facing me on the edge of the bed.

“Thanks,” I mutter, putting it over my exposed skin.

“Abigail, something’s wrong. I’ve asked you and you’ve denied it, but I know there’s a problem. Tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“But there is.”

“I promise you there’s not. Just let it go. I had fun, you had fun, and now I need to go home.”

“I’m not buying what you’re selling. You can tell me what the problem is.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I do. I don’t want you to leave here hurt.”

“I’m not hurt.”

“But you are.”

This stand-off I can tell won’t end anytime soon. Marcus likes to ask questions and he likes honest answers. Something about him tells me he can pick a bull-shitter from a mile away.

Huffing, I glare into his eyes. If he wants the truth, then he can have it. I gave him ample opportunity to drop the subject and like the stubborn arse he apparently seems to be he won’t.

“Fine, you want me to tell you?”

“Yes,” he snaps, annoyed.

“It’s you. You’re the problem, okay?”

“Why?”

He’s hurt.

“Because you waltz into my life, and in the one day you’ve been in it, you’ve—” I can’t bring myself to continue.

“It’s been two days,” he interrupts, running his fingers through his hair.

“What?”

“The cemetery. I’ve been in your life for two days.”

“Tell me one thing. Do you always make moves on girls who are vulnerable?”

He smiles. He fucking smiles. “I’m an opportunist, Miss McMillian.” He must see confusion on my face. “It’s a pretty simple and clear reasoning.”