Page 55 of Colombian Chemistry

Marcus smiled and pushed off the bed. “I don’t know if I’d called these things real food, but it’s better than Iguana and unripe bananas. Hector doesn’t exactly have gourmet food here, though, so they’ll have to do. I’ll shower and be back in a few. There’s a bottle of water on the table there and clean clothes folded on the bed.”

I barely heard what he said. I was so busy eating the hot, cheesy, gooey pocket of deliciousness. After I finished up my meal, I set down the plate and walked over to the clothes on the bed. A sky-blue t-shirt and a pair of jeans that looked just about my size. Perfect. But I was too tired for street clothes at the moment and wished Marcus would have found me some pajamas for the night.

I sat in my towel for a few minutes waiting for him to get back so I could ask for pajamas instead and finally heard the shower turn off. Marcus came into the room a minute later, a white towel wrapped around his waist while he rubbed another towel against his hair.

“Fuck. That felt amazing.”

That looks amazing.

What I’d just devoured like it was my last meal wasn’t nearly as scrumptious as the six-pack making its way across the room. Even though I’d just eaten, drool still pooled in the corner of my mouth while I soaked in the sight of him.

Marcus pulled the towel off his head and caught my leering gaze. A cocky smile lifted one corner of his lips. I wanted to look away, ashamed to have been checking him out so brazenly, but my eyes refused to cooperate. Instead, they slid down to those perfectly carved “V” marks disappearing beneath his towel.

“Careful there, Irene. If you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna take off this towel and come over there and remove yours too.”

Please do, I begged him inside my mind.

Instead of saying what I wanted, I continued standing there dumbfounded. Why couldn’t I just tell him what I wanted? Why couldn’t I be brave like those seductive women I’d seen in the movies? But I couldn’t. I was Irene Saltzman, and I never did anything so bold as to openly seduce someone.

Although, it’s not like I’d ever wanted to before. The guys I dated were intellectuals and not exactly the type that had me wanting to tear off my clothes the way Marcus did. Sex, for me, was just something that happened because the progression of a relationship dictated it. Statistics showed sex on the eighth date was ideal, so I always followed the rule, and if we made it to the eighth date, then sex would happen. But only because it was expected at that time, never because I was desperate to rip his clothes off like I’d been with Marcus practically since day one.

I was a lights off, missionary position, don’t make too much noise and have the neighbors hear me kind of girl. Honestly, I’d never had an orgasm from sex before. I felt too self-conscious, too afraid, to let myself go when I was with someone. I went through the motions and got to the end, but it wasn’t at all what it looked like in the movies. Not at all what I imagined it would be like with someone as primal and powerful as Marcus.

I let my gaze slide down his body again, visions of hot, passionate sex flooding my mind. As I stood staring at him, all my insecurities started fading away. I’d been so close to death more times than I could count in the last few days, and against all odds, I was still alive. Maybe it was time to take another risk.

This was it. Our last night together. Tomorrow he planned to put me on a plane and never see me again. Something that tore me up inside. But as much as the thought of being away from him killed me, the thought of never having experienced this one thing with him killed me more. For once in my life, I wanted passionate, hot, sweaty sex with a man that ignited every molecule inside my body. And I knew I’d never find anyone like him again.

This is it—my one shot. For once in your life, don’t be a chicken shit, Irene!

With a stilling breath, I dug deep inside of myself and pulled out the newfound confidence Marcus had instilled in me. I held his eyes while I slid my hand to the front of my towel and held my breath as I tugged at the top. It dropped into a heap at my feet.

My heart crashed against my chest, pounding so hard I could hear it as I stood naked and exposed before him, his wide eyes locking with mine before his gaze drifted south.

“You’re not wearing your granny panties.”

“Nope.”

His eyes raked my naked body again.

“You’re not wearing any panties.”

“Nope.”

A long swallow slid down his throat as he shifted his weight on his feet. “We shouldn’t do this, Irene.”

“Do you not want me?” I asked, my confidence faltering. I wanted to pick up the towel and bolt out of the room.

Marcus’s scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “God, woman. I’ve never wanted anything more.”

I started to feel more bashful standing naked in front of him with the lights on, but I held my ground. “Then why not?”

“Because,” he whispered. “You’re too good for me, Irene. You’re pure and kind and wonderful. I don’t want to hurt you. And I don’t want to hurt me. If we do this, I don’t know how in the hell I’ll ever be able to tell you goodbye. I can’t have you, and I can’t not have you. This will only make it harder for me to let you go.”

“I want this, Marcus. Even if it’s just this one time. It’s going to be impossible to say goodbye to you either way, and I don’t want to wonder what it would have been like for the rest of my life. I just want to feel you inside of me this once. I want to let myself go with you. Please.”

His gaze slipped down my body again, then lifted to meet mine. A passion that mirrored my own ignited inside his eyes.

“I want you, Marcus,” I repeated, then wedged my lip between my teeth and moved my hand down my body.