"Okay."
"I’m gonna go back in and call Donnie, okay?" I told him.
That was also another thing that had happened this last week. I had gotten to know Donnie pretty well. While Marc had been gone, he had checked in, and I had even talked to him about their ideas with Beyond the Stars if I signed the rights over. He was a very nice guy, and I could see why Marcus had stayed so close to him since childhood and saw him as a brother.
Back in the car, I called Donnie. "Hey."
"Grace, I don't think I can get—"
"Don't worry. We are going back to my place." I could hear Donnie's sigh of relief.
“Is he pissed?”
“No.” I smiled. “He's okay. I'm a little tired and would rather have the three of us make dinner and whip up something fast for dessert. Though, if you would like to, you could join us."
"Oh. I wouldn't want to intrude...”
"You wouldn't. The more, the merrier.” I looked at Lexi, who was captivated by the movie, biting her little nails. "In fact, I think my sister might even come over. Join us."
"If I can get out of here on time, I'll take you up on the offer. Since Marc's been gone and when he's here, he's been with you, homemade meals have been far and few between at the house." I laughed, knowing Marc was the only one of the guys who liked to cook.
"I can imagine. See you later," I told him as Marc slid into the driver’s seat.
"Need me to bring anything?" he graciously asked.
"No. Just yourself."
"Okay then. Tell Marc to drive safe."
"Will do. Bye." I ended the call and threw my cell phone into my purse before I looked up at Marc's handsome yet serious face looking at me.
"What?"
"You invited him over?"
"He's nice. He needs to eat. And with all the stress you just put him through, it is the least we can—"
"Fuck, Grace,” he whispered, shaking his head playfully. He leaned in and gave me just a light taste of him. “You watching after my boy?" he asked, and I shrugged because I could tell from the tone in his voice this meant something to him. "Thanks, Gracie." His nose skimmed mine, and my heart flip-flopped. I loved when he did that.
"Come on, Mr. Wright, you have to feed me." I smiled and leaned back into the seat, his hand covering mine before he started the car and drove us home.
***
“Marcus, if the acting thing doesn’t work out for you, I'm sure you can find a job in the food industry in some kitchen somewhere,” Gabby happily commented, throwing her napkin onto the table. Marc’s deep chuckle filled the dining space of my house.
"Tia's right. I like how you cook!" Lexi agreed and looked up at Marc, who was sitting next to her.
"Thank you, little princess." He smiled at her, squeezing my hand. "You ready to make a cookie sundae?"
"Yes!" Lexi ecstatically jumped out of her chair and went into the kitchen with Marc behind her.
"Wow!" Gabby sighed in a hushed tone. "I think Lexi's right about him being a real-life superhero." She looked at me with a soft smile, and I facetiously rolled my eyes at her.
"How's school?"
"Fine."
"You always say fine."
"And that makes you suspicious?"
"No. I just worry.”
"You don't have to. I'm good."
"I just know that between Lexi and I, we take a lot of your time. Time you should be—"
"Doing what I want? I am. I like hanging out with Lex and you and even Gloria, just don't tell her that. It'll go to her head."
"What about friends, parties? Boys?"
"Boys are boring," she mumbled. I raised my eyebrows at her. "I don't have time for boys and the games they play." Before I could say anything, the doorbell rang and I scooted out of my chair.
I opened the door and there stood Donnie. At six feet four inches he was taller than Marcus. I wasn't used to having to look that high up. He was also handsome, in a clean-cut, boy-next-door kind of way, with his close-cut, dirty blond hair, hazel eyes, and a toned body that would make any woman look twice.
"I know you said not to bring anything, but I couldn't resist." He winked, handing me a very nice bottle of wine.
"Red, my favorite. Come in. Marc, looks like you and Lex have to make another plate."
Lexi waved from the kitchen just as Marcus gave a chin nod. "Come sit." I led him to the dining room table.”
“Thank you, Grace. You have a great home.”
“Thanks, Donnie. Meet my little sister, Gabby. Gabby, this is Marcus’ best friend and manager, Donnie Bosco.”
“Wow. Best friend, client, and roommate? Impressive,” Gabby said with a smile, shaking Donnie’s hand.
“Thanks, I think.”
“I just mean, I help watch Lexi a couple of times a week. I couldn’t imagine doing all you do for that one person.” He laughed and shrugged.
“I guess it takes a special breed to put up with the Wrights and all their wrong-doings.”
“Impressively handsome and witty,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “You will fit right in.” Gabby winked at Donnie from behind her thick, framed glasses as she ran her fingers through her pitch-black curls.
Donnie lightly blushed. I laughed. I walked into the kitchen to help Marc heat up food so we could take care of our guest, all the while thinking I liked my sister and Donnie getting along.
***
It was an hour and seventeen minutes after Lexi had knocked out into a deep sleep. Two hours and twenty-six minutes since Donnie and Gabby had left.
Not that I was counting the minutes or anything. Or that my body felt antsier with every strike of the clock.
Sitting on the couch, Marc’s body next to mine, our thighs pressed together, I wondered slightly if he had changed his mind. Or maybe the History Channel’s American Pickers was his favorite show and he was completely captivated by it.
My nipples were straining against the material of my bra. The ache of anticipation between my thighs was going to kill me. Every second that dragged by felt like an hour. About to turn and say something, I froze the second I felt his hand on my thigh.
His hand lightly stroked my jean-covered thigh. Glancing down at his huge hand over my thigh as he skimmed the tips of his finger back and forth, I took a deep breath and made myself look at the TV. My heart sped up when he squeezed my thigh, just a firm pressure that made my toes curl, while I kept pretending to watch the two guys buy things that strangers kept in attics and barns as they traveled cross country.
His hand left my thigh, and he shifted his body, his arm around my shoulder, his face leaning into my ear. “Why does this feel like we are on a first date?”
“I don’t know.” I giggled. “We haven’t done one of those, though.” Glancing up at him, I caught the surprised expression on his face. His hand cupped my cheek.
“How is that possible?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged, “I have Lexi and you have to travel.” His thumb skimmed and pulled my lower lip. I stopped talking.
“How is it possible? I can hardly remember what life without you felt like, and we haven’t gone on an official first date?” His voice was thick with emotion, making my heart skip a beat and my face warm. Not because they were sweet words, though they were, but because I knew he meant them.
Swallowing hard, all I did was shrug and kiss the pad of his thumb. His nose flared and his jaw clenched.
“I should be good and actually sleep on the couch. Wait for tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Our first date. I think we should go on one.”
“Oh.” A delicious shiver ran down my spine at how quickly and confidently he answered. He was sexy and manly, and I knew he could work magic with his hands and voice.
“Marc…”
“I’m not going to be good.”
“You’re not?” I panted, trying not to cringe at how needy I sounded.
“No.” He shook his head. His eyes drifted fro
m mine to my mouth, and his lips went up slightly, “No way I can wait. Unless you…” I couldn’t answer. My tongue felt too big in my suddenly dry mouth, so I quickly shook my head.
I watched his own tongue lick his lower lip as he looked over my shoulder and swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. “Go to your room, Grace,” he ordered the moment his eyes landed on mine, and I frowned.
“What?”
“Go to your room.”
“Did you change—”
“No. I’ll be right there.”
“Okay.” I nodded.
We both stood at the same time. My legs felt like rubber bands, and my heart rate was way too high. I watched him go to the kitchen and take two glasses out. He glanced over his broad shoulder and nodded his head toward my room, silently repeating his order. I pressed my lips together. With a quick nod, I walked into my room.
Stepping in, I looked at the space while biting my nails. Was I supposed to have something sexy ready to wear? Was I supposed to slip into something more comfortable? I rushed to my dresser, to the last drawer on the bottom left hand side. The one I had no idea why I had it. Why I bought things to add to it when I never had a real reason for it. Or hadn’t for the past six years.
There were a total of four pieces in there.
Lace, silk, satin, and none of them felt right or real. With a deep breath, I reached in further and took out a two-piece pajama set I had. Pajamas weren’t sexy. Especially for single moms who shopped in the clearance and plus size aisles. But these had been a Mother’s Day gift from Gloria, and she had been very generous.
Cashmere soft and cotton light. Grey wide-leg pajama pants with a soft white lace trim on the sides. The pants were simple and comfortable and made my ass look great. Though, it was the top of the set that made the outfit sexy. Soft white, chunky lace trimmed the front of the cotton and lace halter top. The lace went across my breasts like an X and then into an empire waistband. It was sexy but subtle.
I went into the master bathroom to quickly change and freshen up, brushing my teeth and taking my hair out of the ponytail I’d put it in after Gabby and Donnie had left. Letting it fall, I took in my reflection. The way the halter top held my breasts actually made them look perky, which for their size was not an easy feat. My hair was tousled and wavy. And perfect for the moment.
Or it did until it hit me.
Marcus Wright’s last girlfriend was Katie Wells. America’s Sweetheart! At that thought, I imagined not only what they’d looked like together in the pictures that had been on the countless covers of tabloids, but my imagination went wild. I was a writer for a reason, and that was because I had a great imagination.
She probably lounged in skimpy silk and satin to watch American Pickers with him, all while wearing six-inch spike heels with signature red soles. Shit.
Doubt and worry started to hit as I stepped out of the bathroom. My fingers running through my hair, I looked around my room, and a pair of black strappy four-inch heels Gabby had left behind caught my eye, sitting there under my window, lit up by the moonlight. Strappy heels and pajamas. Was I actually contemplating wearing heeled sandals with PJs to impress some guy? Not that he was just any guy, but still.
“I’d rather have you in flip flops, actually.” His deep voice startled me, and I jumped. Turning away, I looked at him standing in the doorway of my bedroom.
“I like how tall I feel around you.”
“You are tall.”
“Okay. I like how much taller I feel,” he retorted and smiled as he leaned gracefully against the wall. One leg in front of the other, he was sex on a stick. Confident, powerful, and clearly in charge of his own body; and so terribly masculine.
“Hi.” My cheeks warmed over. He grinned, raising a sexy lone eyebrow.
“Do you usually sleep in sexy footwear?”
“No.” My face felt like it was on fire. Crossing my arms in front of me, I felt more than saw his eyes fall to my chest. We might have been five feet away, but the heat from his gaze felt like a touch I knew I would never get enough of.
Chapter Nineteen
Marcus
She stood a good five feet away from him as he held two wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of opened wine in the other. He realized bringing this shit into her room had been a mistake. He should have come in empty-handed, but he had been nervous about taking things too fast. Pushing her too quickly. He was dying to feel her in his arms, pressed close to him so damn bad, that his arms ached for her.
Yet standing in front of her, he was nothing less than floored by how fucking beautiful she was. Her mix of sexy and sweet was fucking with his head.
“Marc?”
“Is that what you sleep in all the time?” he asked. Hearing the thickness of his voice, he swallowed as he took in the sight of her.
The soft, grey material highlighted the sweet curves of her hips, while the white lace did the same to her incredible breasts. He stood straighter, trying to adjust himself subtly, and failing.
“It… Umm… It was a gift,” she shared honestly, and he couldn’t help his reaction if he had tried.
“A gift?” From a lover? It was something sweet and sexy. Something he would think about giving her just so that he could take it off and watch her put it back on after hours and hours of skin-to-skin fun. Something that would look as good as it felt while he held her close while they slept for whatever was left of the night.
“Gloria.” She rolled her eyes. “She took Lexi shopping for Mother’s Day two years ago…” she rambled, and just like that the jealousy he had been feeling washed away.
“I like it.” He took a step closer and set the glasses on the end table next to her pale blue chaise. The house was so quiet he could hear her breathing.
He sat on the chaise, his knees spread wide, and rested his elbows on his thighs before he looked at her. “I brought us wine.” He tilted his head to the glasses and bottle.
“I saw.”
“Come here, baby,” he ordered and kept his face serious as she stepped forward without a word. “Closer,” he added when she stopped two feet away from him. With two more steps, she was standing in front of him. His hands went behind her knees, and she closed her eyes.
“Let’s take this off,” he throatily suggested as he tugged on the pants and watched her eyes open wide.
“What? But the lights—”
“I want to see you,” he countered before repeating himself, “Take it off.” She shivered at his demand. Her sexy, tanned skin was covered with goosebumps. Her nipples were even more pronounced beneath the cotton of her halter top. His dick ached, enjoying her reaction to him.
“Marc, I’m not …” she started, and he didn’t take his eyes off of her, “Well, I’m not like Katie Wells and those others before—”
“Thank fuck,” he growled, the need for her bubbling up, almost boiling over. He had to rein it in. The last thing he wanted to do was freak her out. “I want you, baby. No one else.” He did. He didn’t know how to explain it clearly, the need to feel her and see her.
“We just started this. I’m not even sure what this is. Maybe just… if I turn off the lights…” He took his hands off of her and leaned back, clasping his hands together.
“You nervous, sweetness?” he asked gently, trying to calm the urge to throw her down on the bed in front of them.
“What?” Her cute chin tipped slightly, and he bit away his smile. She was nervous but would never admit it to him. “No!” she clipped. He looked at her.
“Step closer.” She frowned.
“What?”
“Come closer,” he repeated, and she gave in, stepping closer until she stood right between his knees. “Untie your pants, baby.”
“Marc…” she hesitated, but he shook his head.
“Please.” His voice sounded rough even to his own ears. His hands touched the back of her knees again.
The feel of her soothed his nerves. He could feel the soft, warm heat radiati
ng from her through the thin material as he stroked the back of her thighs with the tips of his fingers. He watched her close her dark eyes slowly.
“I want you. I want to see you. No rushing.” He leaned forward and kissed her belly before looking up at her, “We’ve done that. I need to explore. And look. And taste. Trust me when I tell you, I can’t fucking wait to see you bare, Grace. I can’t fucking wait to see even more of your beauty. I’ll make this good for you, I promise.” And he would. Fuck, he’d make it the best she ever had.
Her eyes shined with passion and something else. Before he could ask, her hands went to the front of her pants and she slowly, as if sweetly torturing him, undid the sweet bow and pushed the pants down her legs until she let them fall freely onto the floor. His mouth went dry at the sight of her braless in that lacy halter top, wearing a skimpy black thong and nothing else.
“Let me.” He cleared his throat, and she watched him as he stood up tall, right next to her. His hands moved to the swells of her sexy as hell hips, and he looked down. He took in the way his big hands looked on the beautiful swells, how she felt beneath his touch. Like a missing piece of a puzzle. With a shake to his head to make himself focus, he moved his hands up and under the hem of the halter top.
He heard her sharp intake of breath the moment his fingers touched her torso, and his hands lingered.
“Do you want me, Grace?” he asked, needing to hear her say it before he took things any further.
“So much.” Her lips trembled, and he watched, fascinated, as her pink tongue poked out, moisturizing them. He leaned forward and kissed her slowly. Softly. Enjoying the soft taste of mint toothpaste and Grace. He wanted to devour her, but he was in the mood to revel in everything Grace.
“Grace,” he whispered, leaning down, so that his lips hovered slightly above hers.
“Yes?” She breathed heavily against his mouth, her chest rising and dropping. He wanted to feel her hardened peaks graze against his bare chest so much it made it hard for him to breathe. One of his hands moved up her torso beneath her top. He felt her tremble beneath his fingers and somehow managed to stop himself just below her breasts.
LIE (Right Men Book 1) Page 16
