face.”
“Fuck,Marcus,IwaslettinghimtouchmycheekbecauseifImoved, itwasgoingtobetoknockhimoutandIdidn’tthatwouldgodownwell.
Whydon’tyoutrustme?”
“It’snotyouIdon’ttrust,”hebarks.
“Ohbull.YouhonestlybelieveIstillhavefeelingsforhim.Youof allpeopleshouldunderstandhowitfeels,Marcus.Youputmenextto Chayneforalongtime,andyou’vespentweekstryingtoconvinceme shemeansnothingtoyouandyetyoucan’tpossiblybelieveI’mover Ben.Iwastryingtodotherightthing,Iwastryingtomakehim understandthatitwasnevergoingtohappen.DoyouthinkifIwantedto seehimformyownpersonalreasons,thatIwouldhavedoneitoutside theWhiteHouse?”
Marcusdropshisheadintohishandsandhisbreathingbecomesdeep andragged.Iputmyhandonhisback,runningmyhandsupanddown.
“Marcus,Iwantyou.Howmanytimesdowehavetogothroughthis possessive,jealouscrap?Ineedyourtrustasmuchasyouneedmine.”
Helooksupatmeandhiseyesareglassyandpained.
“Idotrustyou,sweetheart.Butseeingyouthere…ithurt.”
“Iknow,butIwasjusttryingtogetridofhim.Ihavenothingleftfor Ben,notagoddamnedthing.”
“Therewasaphotographer,”hesighs.
“Iknow.”
“Thatwillbefrontpagenewstomorrow.”
“Whatarewegoingtodo?”
Herubshistemples.“Ihonestlydon’tknow.IfChayneseesthat,she mightjusthaveenough…”
“Wedidn’tdoanythingMarcus,wedidn’tgetcaughtkissing.”
“No,Isupposeyou’reright.It’snothardevidence.”
“I’msureitwillbefine,letthemthrowitatus.”
Heleansbackinthechair.“Iwantyoustayingwithmeuntilthis blowsover.”
Inod,notbotheringtoargue.He’snotgoingtohearit,nottoday.We bothfallsilentandremainthatwaytheentiredrivetohisplace.Whenwe getin,hewalksinsideanddropshisbriefcaseandphoneontothekitchen bench.Heturnstome,unfasteninghistie.Ifeelmychestclench,the lookinhiseyesisthatofexhaustionandpureconfusion.Likehe’sjust hadenough.HaveIleadhimtowonderwhyhe’sbotheringwithme?
HaveIruinedagoodsituation?AreMarcusandIjustdestroyingeach otherslowly?
“I’mgoingtohaveashower,ordersomedinnerok?”hesaysina tiredvoice.
“Ok,”Iwhisper.
HepullsoffhisshirtandIcatchaglimpseofhisbackashe disappearsintothebathroom.Withasigh,Ipulloutthemenusbythe phoneandlookthemover.Iordersomepastaandredwine,thenIchange outofmyschoolclothesandgetintosomecomfycottonpantsanda singlettop.WhenMarcuscomesoutwithatowelwrappedaroundhis waist,Ican’thelpmygaze.Ittravelsoverhisdamp,hardbody.Hishair isdrippingdownontohischeeksandgod,helookssodelicious.Imakea mewlingsoundandwantsobadlytowalkoverandtearthattowelclean offhisbody.
“Sierra,”hewarns.
“Doyouregretme,Marcus?”Iwhisper,meetinghiseyes.
Henarrowshiseyesandshakeshishead.“DoyouthinkIregret you?”
“You’relookingatmerightnow,likeyou’reexhaustedandtiredof trying.Likemaybeyouregretgettinginvolvedwithmebecauseithas causednothingbutpain.”
Hewalksover,stoppinginfrontofme.Icanfeeltheheatfromhis bodyagainstmyskinandIshiver.Hegripsmyface,titlingmychinup.
“I’vefeltalotofthingsinmylife,Sierra.I’vefeltpain,anger, disappointmentandregret.Iknowthemalltoowell.WhatIknow,right here,rightnow,withyou…isthatIloveyou.It’snoteasy,butInever expectedittobe.Inever…everthoughtChaynewouldgodownwithouta fightandthiswouldjustbeawalkinthepark.Iwillfightuntilmylast breathforyou,SierraWalters.Youshouldknowthatbynow.”
Ilookupintohiseyes,andIdotheonethingthatwilllethimknowI feelthesame.ThatI’mwillingtogivemyselftohimcompletely.ThatI trusthimandmostofall,thatIlovehim.Ilowerslowlytomyknees.
Whentheyhitthefloor,Ilookupathim.
“Sir,”Iwhisper.
“Baby,”hemurmurs.
“Itrustyou.Iloveyou.Iwantallofyou.Iwantitall,rightnow.”
Hekneelsdowninfrontofme,takingmyfaceinhishands.“You’re toobeautifultobeonyourknees,sweetheart.Ithoughtoncethatwas whatIwantedfromyou,butyou’vetaughtmethatcontrolisn’t everything.Thathavingasubmissiveisn’teverything.Yougiving yourselftome,it’swhatI’vealwayswantedfromyou,butbaby,you don’tneedtobeonyourkneesforanyone,everagain.”
IfeeltearsfillmyeyesandIgriphisface.“Iwanttodothisforyou,
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