THEN

Katia

“Katia!” My mom cries down the phone.

“Mom? What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“Yes, something has most certainly happened. Katia, I don’t know why you did this for me. I know you can’t afford it, sweetheart.”

Huh?

“Mom, you’re going to have to take a few steps back. I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“The wheelchair.”

The wheelchair?

“What happened? Did it break?”

“Katia,” she says softly. “The new one.”

The new one?

What new one?

“I don’t understand. I didn’t buy a wheelchair.”

“You . . . you didn’t?”

“No, Mom.”

“Then who did?”

“There’s a note on the box, let me see.”

She shuffles about, then a moment later gasps.

“Mom?” I cry. “What?”

“It’s . . . It says . . . I hope this makes your life easier. M.”

M.

Oh God, Marcus.

“Marcus,” I breathe.

“I thought you two weren’t serious, Kat?”

“We’re not.”

“Then . . .”

I told him I work hard and couldn’t afford it. He gave it to her. I told him my boss was an asshole. He fixed it. Marcus is trying to prove to me that he’s worth my time, and I’m starting to believe it.

“Mom—”

“Oh Katia,” she whispers before I can protest. “It’s amazing. I can’t . . . I’m so happy.”

She’s happy.

My heart aches and I know I can’t argue this, and take it off her. I also know somehow that Marcus has twisted this so I owe him. Part of me wants to owe him; part of me is scared. This, though—this makes my heart ache. Today was easily one the best days of my life. When I went back into work my boss apologized, upped my wage and reduced my hours.

Whatever Marcus did changed him.

And in doing that, he changed my life.

I lift my purse and say down the phone, “I have to go, Mom, but I’ll help you set it up as soon as we’re home.”

“Oh, it’s electric!” she cries.

With a smile, I hang up the phone and wave down a cab.

Then I head to Marcus’s house.

~*~*~*~

“Is Marcus in?” I ask, leaning a hip against reception.

“He’s just in a meeting,” the receptionist mutters. “He won’t be long.”

“Is Candy in?”

She narrows her eyes. “Is there a reason you’re here?”

Oh, someone doesn’t like me. She’s not the same receptionist I met last time I was here. Maybe she’s one of Marcus’s ex lovers. It wouldn’t surprise me.

“Well,” I say, grinning at her, “I was with Marcus last night, or to be precise, in his bed, so I’m here to see him.”

“You and the rest of the country,” she says, bitterly.

Definitely a cow.

“He told me to come here. If you don’t like it, you can take it up with him. I’m going to see Candy.”

With that, I shove past her and head up to Candy’s office. She’s sitting at her desk on the phone, but when I enter she ends the call and jumps up, rushing over and throwing her arms around me.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, leaning back.

“I’m here to see Marcus.”

She narrows her eyes and then throws her hands on her hips. “Why?”

I grin at her. “None of your business, missy.”

“It is my business if you’re going to go into his office, where I can hear, by the way, and jump his bones.”

“He bought Mom a wheelchair.”

She blinks.

“Marcus Tandem bought your mother a wheelchair?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Marcus is a player.”

My chest clenches but I nod in agreement. “It would appear that way.”

“He doesn’t buy,” she leans in close and hisses, “wheelchairs.”

I purse my lips. “Well, he did.”

“What did you do to him?”

I laugh softly. “I have no idea.”

A group of men walk past, and Candy nods at them. “Those were his guys. He’s free.”

My heart begins pounding harder as I straighten. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Keep it in your pants, honey.”

Laughing, I step out of the office and turn to face Marcus’s. He’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the men go. When he notices me, his eyes flick my way and his face grows lusty. Oh boy. I smile, unable to hold it back. It comes out huge, and bright, and full of appreciation.

Then I walk towards him on shaky legs. Knowing what I’m going to do when I get there, and knowing I shouldn’t. I can’t stop myself, even if I wanted to. He bought my mother a wheelchair. He changed her life in a way I don’t even think he understands. When I reach him, my hand goes up and curls around his neck and I tug him down. His lips find mine and I kiss him with everything inside me. I kiss him so hard he groans deep in his throat.

He steps backwards, hooking me around the waist and pulling me into the room. He twists us, kicks the door shut and slams me against it. My back presses against the cool wood and his body presses against me. I kiss him until I can’t breathe and he returns it with full force. He shows me depth, and passion and beauty. In a frenzy, I rip into his shirt, untucking it and sliding my hands up his delectable abs.

He rumbles low, and pulls up my skirt, wrenching his lips from mine. He buries his head into my neck, kissing me there while his fingers glide up my thighs, making little tingles appear everywhere he touches. “Did you get a pay rise?” he murmurs into my ear.

“Yes,” I breathe when his fingers find my pussy.

“Did your mom get her chair?”

“God, yes.”

“You’re welcome.”

I moan when he slips his fingers inside me. He thrusts deep, while his other hand works on his belt. He releases himself, slides his fingers from my depths and hooks my leg around his waist. Then he takes hold of his cock and guides it slowly inside my aching pussy. I moan when he impales me, my head drops back and my fingers clutch his arms.

“Tight, sweet cunt,” he growls against my neck.

“Jesus,” I breathe.

He starts fucking me against the wall, hard and deep. His cock destroys me, little by little, with every one of its beautiful thrusts. His mouth devours my neck, his hands clutch my ass and he fucks me in a way I’ve never been fucked. My hips and ass are bouncing on his cock as he picks up the pace, using my bottom to drive his thrusts.

Then someone knocks on the door.

“Fuck,” he breathes, slowing his thrusts but not stopping altogether. Then he barks, “What?”

“Marcus, you have the next lot of men for the meeting.”

The receptionist. Bad timing, lady.

“Marcus,” I whisper.

“Shhh,” he murmurs, then yells, “Be there in ten.”

“Did you want me to prepare the presentation?”

He slides his cock out then drives it back in, making me whimper into his chest.

“Yeah.”

“And what about morning tea? Who is organizing that?”

“Tell her to go away,” I whisper into his ear. “God. Marcus. I need you to fuck me harder.”

He flashes me a rare, wild grin and my heart does a little flip-flop. He tilts my hips, lifting them off the door slightly, and continues fucking me while he answers. My nipples harden against his suit jacket, and God, I want to come.

“Candice knows,” he yells out. “Now, if you don’t mind?”

“Right,” she says. “Sorry.”

He turns his face back to me, and starts fucking me hard again. I come after the second deep thrust and my body convulses around him.

“Yeah,” he grunts.

Then he’s coming too. He slows his thrusts, head thrown back, jaw tight. He milks himself using my body, groaning with each pull and push. Then he slowly lowers me off him and I straighten.

“I never said thank you,” I whisper.

His eyes flash to mine. “Thought that was what you just did.”

I smile shyly.

He studies me.

Then he turns away, something coming across his face I don’t quite understand.

“I have to go to this meeting,” he informs me.

“I know.”

“Dinner tonight, seven.”

It’s an order. I’m happy to oblige.

“Okay.”

He turns to me, pulls me forward, kisses me hard, and then he’s gone.

And I think I just fell in love with him.