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If he got mad at the tho

ught of Raven fooling around and saying he and I were a thing, what would happen if Raven said it was true? Or Axel says he was interested? Or possibly Brandon?

Despite what Axel believed, none of them were going to be happy about hearing the truth. I’d gone pretty far with all of them, without the intention of letting it get that way. I needed to make a choice, but it was impossible right now. We were in the middle of a serious situation and this wasn’t the time to talk about relationships and get everyone pissed off at each other. “So you were glaring at me about it?”

He shook his head, took a slow breath out. “I was just mad. I’m still mad but it’s all just bad timing and circumstances and Raven fucking around.”

“So you’re not mad at me?”

“No.” He turned his head, looking at me quietly for a moment. He leaned in, his face moving close to mine. “You’ve been really distant since you found out Wil could be in trouble. I’ve been kind of a mess since then. I can’t really focus on anything when there’s a problem I want to fix.”

“It’s not yours to fix,” I said. I stared back at him, my eyes unable to focus on his while he was so close. My thoughts were all over the place, thinking of Corey and what Raven had said and also about what Axel had said and how I could put off my decision until later.

More important was the issue of my brother. “At first I wanted to just find him and ask Wil directly, but now...I don’t know. Now Brandon’s gone and we can’t keep an eye on Wil. Even when we get Brandon back, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

It felt strange to confess like this with my thoughts so jumbled. But the determination in Marc’s eyes drove me to answer him and I understood his desire to fix stuff. I usually felt the same way about problems. But I was a complicated mess, and I wasn’t his problem.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” I said. “Wil isn’t dead. He’s just lost. We just need to make sure he’s not in trouble. Once he’s found, I’ll get a normal job so you guys don’t have to keep me working with you. I’ll keep an eye on Wil and hopefully he’ll come back when he’s ready.”

He moved his hand and thunked me in the shoulder. “Stop that. It’s not like you’re a mooch. You’ve done more than your fair share of work around here. I’ve seen you scrape old wallpaper out in a few hours and move on to sand a floor. You’re wearing yourself out. And I don’t need you running off thinking you’ve got to stand on your own. Trust me, it won’t work like you think it will.”

I swallowed hard. Out of all the guys, he seemed to understand more than anyone that I couldn’t just stand still, and I didn’t know how to completely leave. But also that I had to prove I could, that I wasn’t mooching off of their kindness. “I can go,” I said firmly. “I mean it. If I’m sure Wil is okay, I’ll go and get out of your hair.”

“No,” he said. He lifted my hand again, putting it against his face and kissing the palm. Then he spoke into my hand. “Don’t. Please. Or if you do, I’ll go with you. You’re not mooching. If it’ll make you feel better, you can work with me on something other than house refurbishing. You wouldn’t feel so bad then if we’re working together. It makes a difference when you can see who you’re helping.”

“What do you mean? What kind of work?”

“Call me crazy, but unless you get that excited look in your eyes, you’re not happy,” he said, smirking against my hand. “I remember that glow you had after you did the bounty hunting thing in Florida. And you’ve got that excitement again now. I mean, outside of Brandon being in danger, you seem to need something more than a normal job. You’re a thrill-seeker and an adrenaline junkie. You’re as fucked up as we are. We need something like the Academy to keep us busy, or we go insane.”

I wanted to pretend that wasn’t the case, but it would have been a lie. I was worried about Wil, but I wasn’t the depressed type. I thought about Florida, and helping to find a little girl and her father and reunite them, and nothing has been the same since. Maybe it wasn’t just Wil disappearing that had changed me.

In a way, I was afraid to examine it too closely. I liked the guys, and perhaps even needed them right now, but I was hesitant to make too strong a connection. I felt they’d back away if I got too close. Alone was better for me.

He looked up over my shoulder and I turned to check out what he was looking at. The only thing I could see was Axel still talking to the lady.

Marc released my hand, and a moment later he grabbed me by the hips, tugging me hard toward him. I choked on a surprised cry and landed flat on my back in the seat.

The back of my shirt caught on the seat, and the hem started to ride up, right up to the sports bra, exposing all of my stomach as Marc crawled over me. I twisted to keep him off and to adjust my clothes, nearly falling off the seat as I did.

Marc corrected me quickly and then hovered over me. One of his knees worked up between my thighs and his other foot planted firmly on the floor. He bent over, and captured one of my hands, holding it.

“I’ll show you I’m not mad anymore,” he said. His eyes lowered from my face to my exposed stomach. His hand drifted down.

His fingers traced over the soft skin between my belly button and my ribs. My insides shook at his touch. He lowered down, kissed me quickly on the lips and before I had a chance to kiss him back, his head lowered, and he kissed at a spot right above my belly button.

A tremor worked through my body. I grasped at his shoulders, holding my breath. Really wasn’t expecting that. Wasn’t expecting a kiss, either, and yet I didn’t stop it. So messed up. How could I feel this strongly when I was around Marc, like I need him to cover me all over and hear those promises he made?

Disaster loomed. Axel could be back any second and Marc was on top of me. I desired the affection, but every bit of me was wound up tight with worry. If I told him the truth now, there really would be a fight. I was trying to work out a delicate way to fend him off, and yet I was having a hard time thinking with him so close, touching me.

He flattened his tongue against my skin, licking upward toward my ribs. He moved up my body, his hands planting on either side of my head and then lowered his mouth against mine again. His lips were gentle at first, and then firmed when I started to respond. I couldn’t help it. He lured me out and then chased me down.

When his lips left mine, he trailed kisses down to my neck. He suckled at my skin and his stomach lowered to my belly, his weight pressing me into the seat. He traced along my side with his hand, up until his fingertips traced the bra’s edge.

That tripped my brain into panic mode. Kissing was one thing, but I didn’t want to go that far. Not here and now in the back of the vehicle. “Marc,” I breathed. “Axel could...”

He got up quickly, checking through the windshield. He lowered again, pressing his mouth to mine for a moment. “I’ll watch for him. He’s still busy.”

“I don’t want to do this here,” I said. I wasn’t going to tell him the other truth. I didn’t want the first time with Marc rushed in the parking lot with the German possibly watching and the threat of Axel interrupting looming over us.

Then I realized I was thinking of a first time with Marc. It was enough to cause a rush of desire through my body. It couldn’t be helped; I did want him. I felt the ache inside me growing.

He breathed slowly and then kissed me again, slowly, longer. He was promising me he wasn’t going to go that far. His lips clung to me, telling me he’d do whatever I wanted. I moaned. He was unbelievable. How could I read him so easily? When other boyfriends would have called me a tease, and told me off or would have kept going until I had to push them off, Marc simply understood and was patient. It didn’t matter what we were doing. He’d go where I wanted him, but he still wanted to kiss me.

Did I just think of him as my boyfriend?

His hand at my side slowed, too. The edge of his palm rubbed the outside of my breast slowly, and when I didn’t protest, he slowly edged his whole hand until he was cupping one breast. He squeezed ge

ntly.

I moaned against his mouth again, responding to his kisses. My own hands had been against his chest, immobile as I was enjoying him doing things to me, being selfish and letting him touch. Taking it all in. But now as he kissed me, my hands drifted up until I was cupping the back of his head. My fingers moved down over his neck, feeling his soft hair. I started working my hands over his shoulders, exploring, feeling the muscles and how his shoulders were shaped, wide. As I continued down his arms, I felt his biceps flexing. All the things I’d admired before on his body, I wanted to feel out and get to know.

A tiny part of my brain knew I should have pushed him off. Initially, it was what I had meant to do, but damn, he could kiss.

His hand on my breast stopped and then his whole body lowered until he was closer to me with his stomach pressed against mine, his chest was against mine.

His kiss became deeper, more urgent. He suckled at my lower lip, dove for another kiss and his tongue darted out into my mouth, seeking out mine.

If someone could win me over with a kiss, he was going to try. It was working, too.

He pulled back a bit, his lips still hovering over mine. “Don’t run away again,” he said, begging in such a soft voice that it almost didn’t seem like him. “I’ll chase you if you do.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I whispered.

“Don’t make it complicated,” he said. He backed his head away until the green-blue eyes met mine. He studied me. “We could make this a thing. Start simple. Do you have feelings for me?”

I did something that was almost a snort. What a stupid question.

“Don’t get all indignant,” he said. “Just tell me simple. Do you hate me?”


Tags: C.L. Stone The Scarab Beetle Romance