Marked

by Charisse Spiers

  "Okay, A, I was drunk and trying to get rid of you when you were saying crazy shit, and B, not that your truck isn't nice but it's a fucking Ford. Platinum edition or not, and even with it looking brand new, people that live in houses like this are celebrities or have too much fucking money to be good for them, and always there is a vehicle to match. What am I missing?"

  "I'm not really into flaunting my money. Truthfully, if I knew it would bring my dad back I'd give it all up. Let's go, beautiful."

  He kills the engine and opens the door, exiting after releasing my hand. Why do I suddenly feel like shit at the mention of his dad? Fuck my life... I have foot in mouth syndrome. There is a story there. I'm not sure if it'll make things worse or better for me if I knew, but I kind of want to.

  I take a deep breath and exit with my bag in tow, following him inside the house. He reaches his arm back for me to take his hand. This time I do, easier than in the truck. He lightly pulls me through the huge house, turning on lights as we navigate through each room. "Disregard the moving boxes, okay? Someone's had my attention lately, so I haven't really been here to do this shit and I choose not to pay someone. I don't like people in my shit, especially when I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself."

  "Okay," I say, as we walk around the large cardboard boxes, headed for the stairs. One by one I follow him up to the second floor. "That kind of makes me like you a little more."

  He turns toward me as he backs into a room. I give him a half smile. He grabs my other hand and pulls me against him. "It does, does it?"

  I shrug. "Yeah, I guess it does. It's attractive when a man does shit for himself. A grown child is kind of a nuisance."

  "Well, if we're being honest, it needs a lot of work before it will resemble anything of a home, but having you here is a good start."

  I feel like I've just run a marathon. My breathing is becoming weird as hell and I feel jittery, as if I'm on a caffeine high. The problem is I didn't get to enjoy the coffee. I don't like this at all...

  He grabs the strap of my duffel bag, pulling if off my shoulder, before dropping it to the floor and then reaches for my top button as he stares at me. "This is my room. You'll sleep in here...with me, anytime you're here."

  "You probably won't get much sleep. I don't sleep well in someone else's bed. I can take the guest room if you'll show me where it is. It's not a big deal."

  He leans down and places his lips to the side of my neck as he continues to unbutton my shirt. I let my head fall to the side, giving him more space. Chill bumps start to sprout all over my body at the feel of his soft lips pressed against my skin, as he scatters kisses from my collar bone to just below my ear. He pushes my shirt over my shoulders after he finishes with the last button, letting it fall down my arms, before pulling the cuff of the sleeves over my hands to remove it completely. "I guess you'll just have to make it yours then, because this is where you're sleeping. Get used to it."

  "You're kind of bossy, you know."

  "Yeah, but it's needed to tolerate your shit. If I wasn't you would have ran the second you woke up in Chevy's bar and I would have never seen you again, so I guess it's a good thing."

  His mouth traces along my jaw toward my lips. "I guess that's true," I say, breathless.

  His lips finally reach mine. His tongue slides through the crack, making its way into my mouth, searching for mine. I moan against him as I get that first taste. The hormones suddenly surge through my body, making me want him. I grab his shirttail and pull it up his body, my knuckles brushing over his muscles along the way. He allows me to remove it. "I love your body. Fuck, you're hot."

  My hands go for his waist, before running up his stomach. He removes my bra, then grabs my hand and places it on the hardened section running down his inner leg: his cock. "I could say the same thing about you."

  I squeeze, hinting at what I want. He cups my breast and places my nipple in his mouth, sucking lightly as he turns us around, before guiding me across the room. He kisses me again as he leans in, laying us on the bed. His fingers find the button of my black pants and he works to undo them without our lips parting. His fingers grab the fabric from each hip and he roughly works them over my ass, before pulling them down my legs and removing them along with my shoes, now standing before me.

  He looks at my naked body. "This isn't where I want to do this, but I want one taste."

  His voice is deeper than usual, as if he's trying really hard not to ram his cock into me this very second. That's exactly what I want him to do. He grabs my legs behind my knees and places my feet flat on the bed, before pressing my legs outward, spreading them wider. I watch as he leans forward, placing his tongue inside my pussy. It feels so good, but not as good as it could. As he pulls out he runs his tongue through my lips, stopping with the tip on my clit. I buck my hips upward as he flickers his tongue back and forth. "Shit. Right there. Don't stop."

  He slides two fingers into my pussy and doesn't stop. I clench around his fingers as he thrusts inside. Oral feels so much better when your pussy isn't empty. "I'm not far. Don't fucking move."

  I grab his hair and he looks up at me, not moving a single muscle from the place I need it, knowing if he does all will be lost and he'll have to start over. He increases the speed of his tongue as it hits against my clit. If I weren’t so close to coming that visual would get me there. There is something extremely hot about a guy looking up at you while his face is buried in your girlie goods.

  I can feel my orgasm building quickly. Without much warning it starts, causing me to close my legs with his face in between. I pull at his hair, riding it as his fingers still inside me. "Fuck."

  My clit becomes sensitive, making it tickle under his touch. I pull up on his hair and open my legs. "Stop. Fuck me. Now."

  He removes his fingers and shows them to me, coated in my orgasm, before placing them in his mouth and sucking them clean. My mouth slightly parts as he wipes them on his jeans to dry them off, before leaning in to kiss me again. "Taste what I taste."

  He presses his lips to mine and makes me taste myself on his tongue. Somehow he makes this sexy as hell. I grab for the waist of his jeans, but he stops me by grabbing ahold of my wrist, bringing it above my head and lacing our fingers together as he continues to kiss me. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him toward me. He makes a throaty groan as I rub my center over his denim-covered erection, releasing me. "Not here. At least not right now. If I fuck you here we'll never leave. Get dressed and meet me downstairs. I'll give you some privacy. The bathroom is through that door."

  He leans back down once more, kissing me but only briefly this time. I prop up on the bed, still in a relaxed state, but also still wanting more of him. "What's so important that we have to leave? We just got here."

  He grabs his shirt on his way toward the bedroom door, never stopping. "You'll see. You'll thank me later. Don't wear panties and make it quick."

  He leaves, shutting the door behind him, leaving me in this massive room alone. I fall back against the bed, covering my face with my hands. My emotions are all over the fucking place. For the first time after meeting a man I'm actually slightly worried that severing ties when it's time won't be easy. No matter what he says it's going to happen, because it has to, but for once I'm actually internally debating with myself, trying to talk myself out of it. What's worse is that it doesn't even have to do with money. That alone scares the shit out of me...

  I sit on the couch and lean forward, resting my forearms on my thighs. What I'm about to do makes me a little nervous. I run my hand through my hair as I stare at the floor. "Someone deserves it, Dad. Something tells me it's her. I didn't ship it all the way here for nothing. Isn't it that sixth sense shit you were always talking about?"

  I rub my hands over my face. "Fuck, now I'm talking to myself." I'm not used to this shit, but there's something about her that I want and can't let go of, no matter what it costs me.

  I hear the bedroom door open and close, then footsteps moving in
the direction of the stairs. "I'm ready," she says, and I turn to look at the top of the stairs, immediately standing.

  Dear God she's beautiful. Get your shit together, Cox. You aren't a teenager about to leave for prom. You're a killer for fuck's sake.

  She walks down the stairs, slowly, trying not to fall in the heels I guess, but it's making it worse for me. She has legs for days with that short, black dress on. It barely covers her ass. On top of that the neckline is low cut and connects at the back of her neck, covering only the necessities, but still easily accessible. Perfect.

  I walk to the bottom of the stairs and take her hand as she steps off the last one. "Are you going to tell me what the hell you're planning now?"

  I wink and smile. "Soon enough. I like this dress."

  "Well, I feel overdressed, even not knowing where I'm going, but I'm usually packed for partying so this is what I had in the bag."

  "I think it's perfect for the occasion."

  Moving my hands to her lower back I pull her toward me, before running them over her ass to the bottom hem of her dress. Easing my hands between her thighs, I rub up her legs, checking to ensure she left the underwear behind. The tips of my fingers making contact with her wet middle confirms that she did. She places her hands on my shoulders with a huge grin on her face. A smile begins forming on mine in response. "What?"

  "You are not sly at all. How the hell do you get away with the shit you do?"

  Without moving my hands I pick her up. She wraps her legs around my waist, securing her hands around my neck. Her perfume is suddenly wafting through the air. She smells good. It's recently added because she wasn't wearing it earlier. That little detail makes me happy. "Just because I'm bad at being covert in my actions with you doesn't mean I am with my job. Those are two very different things."

  "Mmmm Hmmm. Whatever you say, cutie." She winks, playing along, making me want to bend her over the couch.

  "Let's go before I change my mind." She unhooks her legs until she slides low enough for her feet to touch the floor.

  "You're the one taking your time, slow poke. After all, you won't tell me what we're doing," she says teasingly.

  "Right. You're distracting me. Quit dressing so fucking hot and maybe I could think straight." I scan her body one more time, before turning to walk away, grabbing her hand in the process. "Never mind. I retract that statement. That's exactly how you should dress. You look sexy as hell."

  I grab my baseball cap off the arm of the couch on the way to the garage door and slide it on my head as I stop in the laundry room, now standing in front of the door. I stare at the key holder on the wall with her standing behind me. I haven't touched them since I hung them here after it arrived. It hasn't been all that long, but at that time it went from point A to point B. It was a matter of seconds. I close my eyes, trying to come to terms with it.

  This is me moving on, Dad....

  I grab the distinct ring of keys and open the door, locking it once she walks through and pulling it shut behind me. My heart starts to race in my chest as I lead her to the covered car at the furthest point of the garage. I stop at the hood, trying to prepare myself before uncovering it. "Are you okay," she asks.

  "Never fucking better."

  Pulling from the front fender on the driver's side, I lift the black cover and inch it backward, walking toward the back of the car until the cover falls to the ground, revealing the car in its entirety. I look at her. She's got her arms loosely crossed over her body, staring at it wide eyed as if she's seen a ghost. "You have a fucking Ferrari 458 Spider?"

  "I see you know your cars."

  "Are there really people that don't know Ferraris? What the fuck, Kaston? How much god-"

  "Don't go there."

  "Sorry. I'm a little in shock. It's rude to ask what someone makes, but hell you can't be more than thirty."

  "Not that."

  Her brows dip. "What?"

  "I wasn't referring to your question. I was referring to the terminology you were going to use along the way to the question mark at the end. Use any fucking curse word you want but that one. It's my hard limit. To vaguely answer your question, I make more than I fucking need in a lifetime, without considering what I’ve inherited. We'll have that discussion later. It's too complex for tonight. Besides, I may need a legally binding contract for that conversation."

  "Uh...okay. I guess."

  "Come here."

  She walks toward me, keeping her distance from the car. I hold out my hand for hers. For some reason I like the gesture of her hand in mine, more so than I ever have with a female. Her hand is dainty. She takes my hand and I pull her in front of me, her back against my front, as we stare at the back end of the car. I grab her waist, holding her to me. "This was my father's car. When he died I inherited everything with the exception of what existed in New York. This was the only thing he allowed himself to indulge in: foreign sports cars. The rest of his money he saved. Touch it. This was his favorite of them all, so I had it brought here."

  She places her fingertips on the back and runs them in a horizontal line along the canary yellow paint. "It's beautiful. This is what you wanted to show me? You're lucky to have a car like this. Only a small percentage of people throughout the world get the opportunity to have this kind of luxury. Will you take me for a ride?"

  "I'll do even better than that. I'll let you drive. Can you drive a stick?"

  She turns around in my arms with a smile spread across her face. "I guess you could say I'm pretty good with sticks, but in regards to this one, yes I can drive a stick. The only way to drive a sports car is a manual, baby." She grabs my cock in her hand, jeans and all, catching me off guard. My semi just turned into a full on hard-on. "Later, I'll climb over the console and show you how I can drive this stick. We can pretend we're past curfew."

  I grab the back of her head and smash my lips against hers, kissing her just long enough to get a taste, before letting go. "Let's fucking go."

  I dangle the keys from my fingers and she takes them. I grab her chin before she can walk away. "Don't hold back. Freedom lies between you and the floorboard."

  Those blue eyes sparkle a little under the garage lights. We both get in the car and I watch as she takes it all in. There is no sight more beautiful than a girl falling in love with a car. Her hands grab ahold of the wheel at ten and two o'clock, before twisting back and forth as if she's picturing the ride before it happens. She presses her back into the seat and her legs spread slightly, hiking her dress up even more. One hand moves to the shifter and I swear on my life she moaned. Her eyes close and then open slowly, her thick lashes touching the top of her eyes. I'm completely fucking hard right now, unable to speak.

  She picks the key up from her lap and starts the engine. "Oh, God, that's a beautiful sound. I think I just fell in love." Her bottom lip succumbs beneath her top teeth. My blood is running wild. This is the best natural high in the world, and I've experienced many different kinds. Not the car, but her introducing herself. There is a mutual respect between driver and car. She's waiting for that very moment when she has the approval to drive it.

  The only person that deserves this car is someone that respects it like he did. This very car can turn on you and get you killed just as it can make you feel like the king of the world. Dad would be grinning from ear to ear right now, because I’ve seen a more masculine form of what she’s doing several times over the course of my life just like this. He always did love his cars. As I watch her, I know that there is a part of her inside that I want to uncover. Her roots run deep. She's someone I want to know, from the inside out. One layer at a time I'll bring the girl she's scared to be to the surface. What I'm about to do is undeniably the right decision.

  I reach in my pocket for the garage remote and press the button for the door to open. She looks at me with an excitement I haven't seen yet. Right now her soul is completely free, and I'm about to watch it fly. "Are you ready?"

  "I can't fucking breathe right no
w." She admits.

  "Shift."

  "Okay."

  I watch her buckle her seatbelt and press in the clutch, before shifting to reverse. She slowly backs out of the garage and turns, then stops, before shifting into first. "Where do you want me to go?"

  "When you get outside of the gate, take a right. You have about six miles of straight roadway. Put the pedal to the metal, baby. Take a left at the stop sign and I'll tell you from there."

  "You're really trusting me to drive this car with no restrictions?"

  "As much as I trust you with my semen."

  She eases forward, getting used to the car as she drives down the driveway. "What about cops?"

  "Don't worry about cops. They won't be out here. There are many reasons why I chose this house. Every one of them has to do with location. Just drive."

  The gate comes into view and she slows down to look at me for directions. "Just pull to the code entry. I didn't bring the remote for that, just the garage. The code is 1127 just like my phone."

  She lets down the window when it's in front of keypad. "What's so special about that number?"

  "It was my dad's birthday."

  She looks at me with question in her eyes. I know what she wants to ask, but she's holding herself back. "He was murdered. It's been a while, but not long enough I want to elaborate. Not yet."

  "I'm so-." She clears her throat, stopping herself. She's smart. Only people that have been through shitty situations understand that sorry doesn't do a damn thing to make the situation easier to deal with. "I understand."

  I place my hand under her chin, holding it up to look at me on the length of my index finger, before rubbing across her bottom lip with my thumb. "Retribution was attained. That's what matters most. I need you to understand no wrong is done without proper cause. Someday you'll understand. For now, your lack of fear is what keeps me coming back for more. Now drive before I sit you on my cock and we get nowhere."

  A light sound of satisfaction escapes her before she quickly keys in the code and turns to look out the windshield, no longer paying me any attention. I smirk but continue to watch her as we wait for the gate to open. She can feel my eyes on her based on her facial expressions. She pulls through and turns right just as I instructed earlier, keeping it in first. Pulling in the center of the road she stops, staring straight ahead. Her lips part and then close again.