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We lapse into silence for the rest of the drive, and when we get to Marcus’s place, he slides out of the car and retrieves my bag from the back before opening my door for me. He takes my hand, threading his fingers through mine, and leads me through the house and up the stairs to his bedroom.
I half expect him to attack me the second the door closes behind us, to shove me up against it like he did at the bar.
But he doesn’t.
He lays me down gently on the bed and takes his time peeling off every layer of my clothing. Then he tugs his own clothes off and worships me with his hands, mouth, lips, and teeth.
His skin is hot against mine, as if there’s an inferno raging inside him. I can see the tension gathered in his body, feel the restraint it’s taking for him to hold back and go slowly. But he refuses to rush, sliding into me only after he’s peppered every inch of my skin with kisses.
Even the way he fucks me is slow, deliberate, and so deep that I lose track of where I end and he begins.
I fall asleep in his arms, and for the first time in a long time—maybe even my whole life—I feel utterly safe.
* * *
The guys have an early flight, so Marcus is up practically before the sun is.
I doze while he showers, and he tells me to stay in bed when he goes downstairs to meet the other two—but he doesn’t complain one bit when I throw on a pair of sweats and a tank top and walk down with him. In fact, he sticks close to my side, as if he doesn’t want to step away from me until he physically has to.
Ryland and Theo are already waiting in the foyer when we get down there. I’m pretty sure the guys all have keys to each other’s places and know the security codes on each other’s alarms and shit. They’re so deep in each other’s lives that it makes sense.
“Ready?” Ryland catches Marcus’s gaze and lifts his chin. He’s wearing a dark blue button up today, and it contrasts nicely with the tattoos that adorn his neck and arms. He shoves his sleeves up a little higher, looking even more hard-edged and powerful than usual.
“Yeah.” Marcus nods.
“Let’s get this fuckin’ thing over with then,” Theo says.
The same bitterness that tinged Marcus’s voice when he talked about it last night seeps into his tone too, and I glance over at him. His messy blond hair is shoved back from his face, and his crooked smile is nowhere to be found.
I wonder why they don’t just tell their families they don’t want to do this shit, but I have a feeling I already know the answer. I gave Ryland a hard time for it once, but the pressure of being part of their families’ businesses probably encompasses a lot more than I gave him credit for.
My job at Duke’s can be a grind, and temp work is boring as fuck—but at least I don’t have to live up to anyone’s expectations but my own. For all three of these men, their families’ expectations and requirements obviously dominate their lives. Even Theo, who seems to be trying the hardest to forge his own path, obviously hasn’t quite managed to get out yet.
Not to say I feel sorry for them for having money. I know it makes so many things so much easier, and it’s what allows them to live the lives they do. But I can see the other side of it more clearly than I used to.
Marcus nods once, then turns to me, pulling me into his arms. “There’s food in the fridge, booze in the liquor cabinet, and every streaming service you could want on the TV. Veg out. Have fun.” He grins slightly, as if he knows exactly what I really want to do. “Poke around all you want. What’s mine is yours.”
The honesty in his voice knocks me back a bit, and before I can think of a response, he captures my face in his large hand and drops his head to kiss me. My body melts against his, and our lips stay pressed together longer than is probably usual for a goodbye kiss. But it still feels too soon when he pulls away, breathing in deeply before letting me go.
My nipples are peaked and hard, my pussy a little wet, and I suddenly feel like I should’ve put on a robe or something before coming downstairs.
Biting my bottom lip, I glance over at Theo and Ryland. “Have a good trip.”
Theo takes a half-step forward, raising a hand as if he’s about to reach for me. Then he stops, curling his fingers into a loose fist instead. He drops his arm back to his side, an expression I can’t read passing over his face before he calls up his easy smile again. “Yeah. We’ll try. Not as much fun as you’ll have, but we’ll do our best.”
Ryland turns and stalks toward the door, as if this goodbye has already gone on several times longer than he wanted it to and he can’t wait to get the fuck out of here. “Let’s go.”
Ir
ritation rankles me, but I shove it down. So what if one of my stalkers doesn’t like me? The weirder thing is that two of them do.
And the weirdest thing of all is that I’m starting to care for them too.
The three men all head down the walkway and pile into Theo’s car, which is parked out front. I watch them drive away, and Marcus shoots me one last look from the front passenger seat before they disappear from view.
When I close the door and step back into the house, it seems to have doubled in size somehow. Without the three men’s dominating presence filling it up, there seems to be more space than I know what to do with.
Jesus. Get a fucking grip, Ayla. They’ve been gone for two damn seconds.
