The thought of dancing with Marc, holding him close, our bodies moving together to an electric rhythm, surrounded by people like us sent a thrill through me. But it was clear that Marc wanted something else tonight—and so did I. “That sounds perfect,” I replied, my heart skipping a beat. “Tonight, I just want to enjoy being with you, like this.”
Marc’s smile softened, his eyes locking with mine. “Good,” he said with a nod, unable to keep that rosy flush from his cheeks that he got whenever he thought about sex.
God, he was the sexiest man that I’d ever known—but it was these moments of adorable dorkiness that won my heart.
As we strolled, the aroma of freshly baked pan dulce and Mexican hot chocolate drew us to a charmingpanadería. “Oh my god, those look amazing,” I said, eyeing the pastries. “We have to get some for later.”
“Not a slice of birthday cake?” Marc asked, grinning at me.
I shook my head, pointing at the window again. “I want that.”
Marc grinned, already stepping towards the entrance. “I like the way you think. Let’s pick out a few to eat later back at the hotel.”
The bakery’s door opened, the scent of sugar and spice embracing us in a warm welcome. As we selected our treats, I snuck glances at Marc, tall and strong, with the top two buttons of his shirt undone, showing just enough skin to remind me of that incredible body that lay underneath. He was exquisite—and yet it was his animated expressions as he chose pastries that made my heart twist in the best way.
With our desserts in hand, we headed back to the hotel, anticipation buzzing between us as we hurried through the crowds of people, knowing each step brought us closer to the privacy of our hotel room—and that big bed.
Was this real? How did someone like me end up with someone like him? Marc was handsome and funny and sexy and infinitely kind.
Why would he be interested in me?
I still didn’t know the answer to that question, but here we were, holding hands like we didn’t want to let go of each other, not for a moment. Taking advantage of every moment away from our small town’s prying eyes.
“I can’t wait to get you alone,” Marc whispered, his breath warm against my ear.
I smiled, my heart racing. “Me neither.”
We had the entire night together, but I didn’t want to waste another minute.
***
The night air was warm and inviting, the distant sounds of laughter and music from the Riverwalk fading into the background as we focused solely on each other—and the promise of what awaited us. I squeezed Marc’s hand as we made our way back to the hotel, the desserts we’d purchased tucked carefully in a bag swinging from my wrist.
As we stepped into the elevator, the air crackled with tension. Marc’s hand found the small of my back. As I leaned into that touch, a fleeting thought crossed my mind. This might be the best birthday I’d ever celebrated, and yet part of me was waiting for the shoe to drop, for the curtain to rise, only for me to discover that this had been just another dream.
His touch dissolved any lingering doubts, grounding me, and I leaned into him, inhaling the scent of his cologne.
The doors opened on our floor, and we made our way down the hallway, our footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. My heart raced with every step, the key card in my hand trembling slightlyas I slid it into the lock. The door swung open, and we stepped inside, the soft click of the latch behind us signaling that we were now alone.
No sooner had I set the bag of desserts down on the nearby table than Marc’s arms were around me, his lips on my neck as his big hands pawed at my body as if he owned it. Then I turned in his arms and met his dark eyes, staring at him until our lips met in a deep, passionate kiss. The world around us fell away as we lost ourselves in the taste and feel of each other, our hands roaming, exploring, as if we were discovering each other’s bodies.
We stumbled towards the bed, kicking off our shoes before we hit the mattress.
As Marc undressed, I found myself utterly captivated as I watched the man I had admired from afar for so long, now here, in the flesh, undressing himself in front of me. Each movement was deliberate and sensual, Marc’s hands moving with a confident grace.
I drank in the sight, my gaze following the path of his fingers as they dipped lower, tracing the waistband of his boxer briefs before slipping beneath the fabric.
My breath hitched in my throat as Marc slowly, teasingly, slid the underwear down his legs, revealing himself to me completely. The sight of him, bare and beautiful, was almost too much to bear, and a rush of heat flooded my body, pooling in my groin and spreading through my veins like wildfire.
I had watched countless videos of Magic Marco, had seen him perform for the camera, but nothing prepared me for what it was like having him here, in the flesh, his eyes locked on mine.
Then Marc reached for my shirt, tugging it off and tossing it on the floor next to his discarded clothing. Marc’s hands moved to my belt, deftly undoing the buckle before sliding my pants down my legs. His eyes never left mine as he took in the sight of me, hisgaze full of desire and something else—something deeper, more profound. “Mi amor,” he breathed as he traced a finger along my jawline. “You’re beautiful.”
I blushed at the compliment—I was nothing compared to Marc’s physical magnetism. But the way he looked at me made me trust he meant it.
He thought I was beautiful.
Then his lips found my neck, dropping kisses along my collarbone as his hands continued their exploration of my body until I was as naked as he was. He worshiped every inch of me, his tongue leaving a trail of fire in its wake. My breathing grew ragged, and I moaned as his mouth found mine again, my eyes closing as he pushed me back onto the bed with a soft thump.
