I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday, this quiet celebration, the two of us wrapped up in each other.
Ah—there he was, silhouetted against those floor-to-ceiling windows, the gentle morning light painting his bare skin in a soft golden glow.
For a moment, I simply drank in the sight of him—the strong, proud lines of his shoulders, the taut planes of his back, the enticing curve of his ass. Every inch of him was pure perfection, a work of art crafted by the most skilled of hands.
And he was mine.
But it wasn’t just his physical beauty that took my breath away. It was the quiet strength he exuded, the abiding love and dedication he showed to those he cared for, the way he faced life’s challenges with grace and determination.
In Marc, I had found not just a lover, but a true partner; someone to walk beside me through whatever came next.
Was it too soon for that? Maybe—but right now, anything was possible. “Anything interesting out there?” I asked, propping myself up on one elbow.
Marc’s face lit up as he smiled and turned toward me. “Just some people walking their dog around. It’s gonna be a pretty day.”
God, he was breathtaking, all tousled hair and warm, adoring gaze. We had nowhere to be, no rushing off to work or dealing with the demands of daily life. Just this perfect, peaceful moment to savor.
His smile widened as he sauntered toward our bed, his flaccid cock swinging in front of him. “I’m going to run downstairs and grab us some coffee,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
Even in these unguarded moments, he was effortless. “That sounds amazing. Two sugars and two creams. I’m jumping in the shower.” Sitting up in bed, the sheets pooled at my waist. “Join me when you get back?”
“Absolutely.” As Marc pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, I paused to admire the play of muscles beneath his skin, the way his body moved with a dancer’s grace that never failed to take my breath away.
He caught me staring and winked, a playful grin tugging at his lips, before disappearing out the door.
Alone in the hushed room, nestled in the pillows, a profound sense of contentment washed over me. The memories of the night before played through my mind like a movie reel, each moment a precious treasure that I would never forget.
An unshakable certainty nestled deep in my bones: what Marc and I shared was real, the kind of love that some people spent their whole lives searching for, and as I lay there, waiting for him to return, I silently vowed to do everything in my power to be the partner and the love that Marc deserved.
Stella wasn’t wrong. Men like Marc Mendez weren’t everyday miracles—they were once-in-a-lifetime blessings, especially in a town like Blanco Springs. This relationship, new and tender and precious, was too important to take lightly.
I wasn’t going to fuck this up.
The bathroom was a study in luxury, all gleaming marble and polished chrome, the spacious shower calling to me after last night’s business. I turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was just right, steam billowing around me, blanketing the room in mist.
As I stepped under the spray, warm water cascaded down, melting away the knots in my muscles and washing the last vestiges of our fucking. I closed my eyes, tilting my head back and letting the water run over my face, the pressure a gentle massage against my skin.
I heard the door to the hotel room open and close. My right hand cupped my cock, already half-hard at the thought of Marc joining me in the shower. Maybe he’d let me suck him off this morning. “Marc?” I called out, my voice bouncing off the tiled walls. “Come join me, the water’s perfect.”
As I waited for him to appear, my mind wandered, replaying the moments we had shared the night before. The way his hands had taken possession of my body, the taste of his skin, the sound of his breathless moans in my ear as he fucked me. A rush of heat that had nothing to do with the warm water washed over me, inside me, a deep ache of longing that settled low in my belly.
But the minutes ticked by, and Marc still hadn’t appeared. A sense of unease crept in, a tiny voice in the back of my mind whispering that something wasn’t right. “Marc?”
I turned off the water, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a fluffy white towel around my waist. The steam clung to my skin as I made my way back into the bedroom.
Marc, sat on the edge of the bed, his face drawn and pale. His eyes were wide and shocked as he held my phone in a vice grip. “Your phone was on the floor,” Marc said, holding the device up.
The PrivatelyYours logo glowed on the screen.
No, no, no… This wasn’t happening. Not now, not when everything had been so perfect. I wrapped the towel tighter around my waist and stepped forward hesitantly. “I can explain—”
“Did you know?” His voice sliced through my words. “Did you know who I was this whole time? About Magic Marco?”
The pain and betrayal in his eyes hit me like a punch to the gut. My mouth opened, but no words came. How did I explain without making it worse? My mind raced for the right thing to say but came up empty.
What could I say?
Chapter Twelve
