His Secret Desire (Atlanta Nights)

by Linda Verji

  “Fine, you’re not a player,” Olivia drew him from his conflicted thoughts by fitting her arm through his elbow.

  “You’re just saying that so I’ll keep carrying your bags,” he grumbled just as the elevator pinged its arrival at the ground floor.

  “True.” She gave him an impish smile as they exited the building. “Those bags are so heav-What the hell?”

  She came to such an abrupt stop that had Marcel been behind her, he would’ve run smack into her. He followed her gaze only to see what had caused the startled stop.

  There her car was and painted along its side and trunk was the word ‘Whore’ in big bold red.

  CHAPTER 18

  Again?

  Olivia closed her eyes, hoping that when she opened them her car would be its normal green self. Nope. Still vandalized as ever.

  “What the hell?” Marcel gaped at the damaged Nismo.

  What the hell, indeed. Too shocked to speak, Olivia circled her car, cataloging the damaged. There was big, bold ‘Whore’ on both sides of the car, on the trunk and on the hood. With each step she took, her shock slowly drained and was replaced by anger.

  “Who the hell would do this?” Marcel exclaimed angrily as he followed her around the car.

  Olivia had no idea who her vandal was, but if - when she found out, hell wouldn’t be hot enough for the culprit. That idiot had even spray-painted her windshield. She was so blind with anger, it was a wonder she saw the note tucked beneath one wiper blade. She plucked it from the blade and unfolded it.

  Stay away from Tay, it said.

  “What’s that?” Marcel asked.

  Without a word, she handed him the note. She wanted to scream. She wanted to stomp her feet. Instead she edged towards Marcel, who was still reading the note, and plucked her gym bag from his shoulder. Her voice wintery cold, she said, “Thanks for helping me with my bag.”

  His expression went from anger to concern. “Livy, you okay?”

  “Yeah.” She tossed her gym bag into the back passenger seat. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Because someone vandalized your car,” Marcel pointed out. When she started for the driver’s side, he grasped her arm and pulled her back. “Talk to me.”

  Olivia kept her face lowered and said nothing. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to run over whoever was messing with her head and her car. It wouldn’t be a hit and run either. It would be a hit, run over, then back up and run over again.

  “Come here.” Marcel released a heavy breath and drew her closer to him. Despite her anger, she stepped into his arms easily.

  His warmth, masculine scent and the soothing hand he ran over her back were like a salve for her ire. He calmed her, easing her anger until it was a low tide rather than the storm it’d been before. Burrowing into his chest, she luxuriated in the feel of his strong arms around her and his palm rubbing across her naked back.

  Soon, calm morphed into something else. There was no ignoring how her breasts pressed against the hard planes of his chest, or the way her nipples puckered at the contact, or how delicious heat pooled in her lower body. Realizing that she was enjoying this more than she should, Olivia eased away from Marcel.

  His arm remained on her waist as he touched his fingers to her chin and raised her face upwards toward his. “Are you okay?”

  Something inside her melted at the concerned look on his face and despite everything, she smiled. “I’m fine.” At the skeptical look in his eyes, she reassured, “Really, I am. It’s not like this is the first time this is happening.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he squeezed her waist. “What do you mean this isn’t the first time?”

  “The Sprite.”

  “I thought that was a joke.”

  “It wasn’t. I told you guys it was sabotage,” she informed him flippantly. “Then there’s the flattened tires the night before you flew to Morocco.”

  Anger flared his eyes again. “You mean someone is doing this deliberately? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why would I tell you?”

  “Because I’m your-” his words came to an abrupt halt.

  “You’re my what?” she asked, her interest peaked. Their relationship didn’t exactly warrant sharing of problems… unless he thought they were more. The feelings she’d been repressing these past two weeks flared to life. Her desire for him hadn’t waned. If anything it’d increased with every revelation that he wasn’t the monster she’d built in her head.

  Being just friends with Marcel was hard work. It took more will power and self-control than she thought she had to keep their relationship platonic. Even Lex had congratulated her for lasting this long without jumping him. But with each day her thread was fraying. One tug, one sign from him would be her undoing.

  Marcel stared at her for a long moment, taking in her upturned face. A spark of desire flicked in the brown depths of his eyes and for a moment she thought he might just say ‘screw it’ and kiss her. Her senses tautened with anticipation, egged him on.

  Kiss me.

  There was no jar big enough to hold the disappointment that filled her when his expression closed off and the desire disappeared. Lowering his gaze between them, he let his hand drop from her waist and brought her note upwards.

  Quickly scanning the note again, his brow wrinkled in thought. “Think it’s Nikki?”

  Olivia shrugged. “I didn’t think it was her style. But who else could it be?”

  “Maybe. But don’t count her out yet. She’s been known to pull some really sneaky stunts.”

  Really? What had Perfect Nikki done that was so sneaky? Before Olivia could prod for more information, Marcel’s brow wrinkled in thought. “Or maybe it’s Tay’s other women.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Other women?”

  So she really wasn’t the only woman Tay was sleeping with? It felt like she’d been punched in the gut and confirmed that she was nothing more than a toy to Tay.

  Realizing what he’d unwittingly revealed, Marcel rushed to divert the conversation, “We should talk to the guards. See if the cameras caught whoever did this.”

  “The camera doesn’t work,” Olivia informed him. Still they walked to the gates to talk to the guards. Both of them had seen nothing and advised Olivia to talk to the day guards in case they’d seen something.

  Olivia released a tired sigh. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

  When she started to get into her car, Marcel stopped her. “Use mine. I don’t want you driving home with your car like this.”

  Despite all her protests, he was insistent. Minutes later, Olivia eased his Lexus onto the highway. In the side-mirror, she could see him trailing her in her damaged Nismo. The drive home was long enough for everything that had happened tonight to simmer back to the surface. From the vandalism, being ordered to leave Tay alone, to discovering that she was a statistic on his long line of mistresses. The more she learnt about Tay and how much of their relationship had been in her head, the more she felt like a blind, naive idiot.

  What she needed was a Tay cleansing - a complete purge of all things Tay. A way to stop him from muscling his way into her world be it in the form of the constant messages and phone calls, his vandalistic groupies, his wife… Marcel…

  Now that she thought about it, who was she kidding with this friend thing? This wasn’t half a what she wanted. It wasn’t even a slice. This ‘friendship’ was mere crumbs of what she really wanted. Him. Spending so much time with Marcel was like feeding a crush that she was supposed to be strangling. Nothing good could come of it.

  It was better to cut the ties completely. It would hurt but eventually, she hoped, she would forget Marcel and move on to a man that was more attainable. Hopefully, erasing him would also mean less of Tay’s influence in her life.

  By the time she drove into her complex, her mind was made up. She parked his car in her neighbors spot exited it then leaned against the door waiting for him to arrive. Barely five minutes later, he eased in beside her. As so
on as he opened his door, she confronted him with her decision.

  “I don’t think you should come to the gym anymore,” she blurted out.

  His brow wrinkled in confusion. “What?”

  “I think you should quit the gym.” His keys jingled in her hands as she gestured between them. “This isn’t working anymore.”

  Marcel’s eyes flew to her face and for a long moment he didn’t say anything - just stared. His gaze was so intent that she lowered her own. Her eyes became inexplicably fastened on her right wedge sandal. She scuffed an invisible circle on the concrete driveway. “We can’t be friends anymore.”

  Silence again.

  She lifted her face to find him still watching her. Finally he murmured, “Can we discuss this upstairs?”

  She wanted to refuse, insist on ending it right here so she could get on with forgetting him. But he deserved better than that. She nodded. When she headed towards the Nismo to get her gym bag, he stopped her with a hand on her elbow. “I’ll get it.”

  Though soft, his touch was another reminder of everything that couldn’t be between them and she stepped away quickly to escape it. While he got her bag, she went ahead to the apartment. By the time he closed the front door behind him, she was tapping her feet by the couch anxious to finish their conversation.

  Before he could open his mouth, she rushed in head first, “I know we said that we were grown and that we could be friends, but I can’t. I thought I could, but-”

  “Livy, breathe,” he interrupted. When he moved forward she took a step back assuming that he was coming toward her. Fortunately, he was only headed to the couch. He sat down and patted the space next to him. “Come sit down.”

  She didn’t want to, afraid that if she was too close to him she might lose her nerve. Nonetheless she found herself following his instructions. She scooted close to the couch’s arm to avoid any of their body parts touching.

  Once she was settled, Marcel asked, “What’s going on?”

  She took a deep breath then let loose. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  “Can’t do what?” he asked calmly.

  Somehow his composure only served to rattle her more. Gesturing with jerky hand movements she said, “I can’t do us anymore. I can’t do this secret friendship thing anymore.”

  “Our friendship isn’t a secret.”

  “Does Tay know we’ve been hanging out?” she asked. When he offered no response other than a flicker of emotion in his eyes, she said, “Exactly! I don’t want to be a secret anymore.”

  “So you want me to tell Tay that we’re friends?”

  “No.” She paused. On second thought said, “Yes.” Then realizing that wasn’t what she really wanted either, she released a frustrated breath and wrung her hands. “I don’t know.”

  She probably sounded like a flaky idiot to him. To his credit he didn’t push her to figure her thoughts out. He simply watched and waited. How could she put this in a way that he’d understand. She scrubbed her palm over her face, took a breath then once her thoughts were aligned she met his gaze.

  “I know all we can ever be is friends. And I said that I was okay with that, but I’m not. Being just friends isn’t enough for me anymore. It isn’t what I want.”

  “What do you want,” he interjected softly.

  “You.” She released a frustrated breath as she wrung her hands. “But I can’t have you. And even if I could, it would have to be on the down low because of Tay. I’m done being the side-piece. I can’t be someone’s secret again. It’s what I was with Tay and I can’t do it again.”

  Marcel scowled at her. “Don’t compare me to Tay.”

  “I’m not saying you’re the same person, but anything we have will go the same way. We’ll continue pretending to be friends. One day we’ll slip and end up having a one-night stand,” she said, in a voice that sounded strange and flat even to her own ears. “One week or two in the closet, maybe even a month. One day you’ll wake up feeling guilty, or I’ll get tired of being hidden, or even worse we get found out. And that will be the end of us.”

  His eyes flashed. “You can’t predict relationships, Livy.”

  “But that’s just it. That’s not a relationship. We’re not in a relationship and we’ll never be in one,” she snapped, her eyes on her linked fingers. “I’d rather cut my losses right now than slip into that tired no-direction dance.”

  She stopped to take a breath then continued, ” I need someone who wants more than an extended one-night stand. I need someone who isn’t afraid to take me to dinner, hold my hand or kiss me in public because someone who knows Tay may see him. And no matter how much I want you to be that guy, you’re not him. So to avoid either of us getting hurt, I’d prefer we kept our distance.”

  There! She’d said it. It felt like a load had been lifted off her.

  Taking a steadying breath, she lifted her gaze to his to see his reaction. It was a good thing she’d finished her little speech before looking up because the burning intensity of his stare would’ve rendered her speechless. It was only when he lowered his eyes to his feet that she began to breathe again.

  A long stretch of silence followed. When he lifted his eyes, his gaze was as steady as his tone. “Okay.”

  His response was like a fist crushing her heart, hurting her. Being apart was the best thing for them, but deep in her heart she wanted him to say she was wrong and that they could work it out. She wanted him to fight for them.

  “Okay,” he repeated. “I’ll tell him.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat painfully and forced out a response. “I told you it doesn’t matter if he knows we’re friends. I don’t-”

  “I’ll tell Tay,” Marcel cut her off, “that I’m interested in you as more than just a friend.”

  It took a second for her to comprehend his words. When she did her pulse leapt and her eyes widened. “You’re serious?”

  He shifted closer to her and took her hand in his. “I’m serious. I don’t want you to be a secret either. As important as Tay is to me, you’re important too and I don’t want to lose you.”

  Her ears had to be kidding her. She stared at him goggle-eyed searching his face for any signs that he was joking. But there were none. His expression was serious and determined. This time her words were a statement, “You’re serious.”

  He smiled. Slowly. “I am. I want to see where this thing between us is going.”

  Before he could say anything more, she leaned forward and kissed him. It was only supposed to be a celebratory kiss, but as soon their lips met the fire flared between them. Within moments Marcel had taken control of the kiss. Cupping the back of her neck, he hardened his lips over hers and deepened the kiss.

  His kiss was hard, urgent and voracious. It stoked the heat inside her to a raging inferno that burned a path of arousal through her whole body. His lips teased over hers, suckling at her bottom lip before his tongue darted into her mouth demanding her surrender.

  “Are you sure that-” she whispered against his mouth in between tongue scorching kisses, “-he’ll let you?”

  “He doesn’t-” Marcel hauled her from the couch and straight onto his lap. “-run me.”

  That was all very well to say but Tay…

  Aah. She gasped when Marcel’s hands stole to her buttocks and pressed her to his erect cock. With the fabric of his pants being so light and her in a dress, the intimate contact was exquisite.

  He was so big. So hard. So long.

  And she wanted more of him.

  As if he could read her plea in the frantic clinging of her lips to his, he lifted her slightly off his lap and reached beneath her. With a few swift yanks, he had her dress at her waist. Now only her thong and his pants were in the way of complete nakedness.

  “Aah!” They both moaned once he set her on his lap again. The heat that had been lingering between them these last two week exploded magnificently searing her with blinding passion. Her grip on his shoulders tightened as she groun
d harder against his rod. His strong hands mauled the naked cheeks of her ass, guiding her, encouraging her.

  “You feel so good,” Marcel said raggedly, his lips caressing her cheek. “That’s it ride me.”

  With his guidance, she danced on his lap. Wetness pooled in her pussy and leaked, likely messing up his slacks, but she didn’t care. Not when it felt so good. The crown of his rod brushed against her clit with each roll and it sent a throbbing ache through her. Marcel teased her mouth open, pushing his tongue in and stroking hers in tune to the erotic dance she was doing for him.

  She was so intent on getting her pleasure, that she didn’t realize he’d moved his hands; not until the straps of her dress fell from her shoulders to her elbows. With a deft flick, he released her bra. A small gasp escaped her when she felt the room’s chill on her bared breasts. Marcel broke off the kiss to lower his hot gaze to the fleshy mounds.

  For a moment, she thought he might not like that they weren’t exactly perky. But his eyes flashed in appreciation and he licked his lower lip. “Beautiful.”

  She knew exactly where this was going and that she should put a halt to it. He needed to tell Tay about them first. But for the life of her she couldn’t find the words to stop him. Her nipples beaded at his intent observation, excited for what was to come. She held her breath when he lowered his hands to her waist and lifted her up until her breasts were at his mouth level.

  “Marcel,” she whimpered his name at the first touch of his tongue on one hard crest. Her whimper turned into a hiss when he nipped the sensitive tip then drew back to blow on the peaked bud. The sensations were unimaginable, delicious. By the time he drew the whole tip into his mouth she was ready to break.

  His hand worked one breast, tweaking and massaging while with his mouth teased the other. He sucked the engorged tip deep into his mouth and laved at it with his tongue. His practiced attention sent thrilling sears through her.

  It felt so good. So, so good.

  “Oooh!” She closed her eyes and shivered, drowning in the wonderful sensations. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his head, cupping the back of his skull and holding him to her breast. Once he had one breast swollen and taut he moved to the other. He gave it the same keen licking and sucking attention.