NOW

Katia

My heart aches.

It feels as if it’s being ripped from my chest. Marcus stares down at me, his eyes carefully blank. I push up from the couch, hurt, confused, but most of all needing answers. Why was my father here? Why did he threaten Marcus? What do the two of them have to do with one another?

“Are you okay?” Marcus asks, his voice careful.

“Why was my father here, Marcus?”

He stares at me, not showing a damned ounce of emotion.

“Well?” I cry, sitting up.

“I knew him a while ago.”

He’s lying to me. I can see it. I can feel it.

“You’re lying to me,” I whisper, my bottom lip trembling.

“Sometimes people lie to protect; maybe that’s what I’m doing here. Protecting you.”

“And maybe,” I yell, jumping off the couch and spinning to the point I have to reach out and hold it to stop myself passing out, “you’re lying to protect yourself.”

“Enough, Katia.”

“Oh, fuck you!”

He flinches, but stands, holding his temper like he always fucking does. He never gets wildly angry, or screams at me. He’s always so damned calm. Like he has no emotion.

“Enough,” he warns.

“Or what, Marcus? You’ll lie to me some more? You’ll kick me out? Go right the fuck ahead. My father just showed up on your doorstep. I have to explain that to my mother now and you’re—”

He moves like lightning, taking hold of my arm and hauling me up against his body. “You will not tell your mom a damned thing.”

“Excuse me?” I breathe, staring into those intense brown eyes.

“He’s a dangerous man, Katia. If you must have something, have that. Your mom wouldn’t be safe.”

“How would you know he’s a dangerous man? Are you a dangerous man?”

“Yes.”

Oh. Shit.

“What’s going on?”

“None of your concern.”

“I’m your wife!” I scream.

“That still doesn’t make it your concern.”

Anger builds up and spills over. I shove his chest so hard he takes a few steps back. “Fuck you, Marcus Tandem. Fuck. You.”

Then I turn and run out the door. He calls my name but I don’t stop.

Fuck him.

Fuck it all.

~*~*~*~

“Honey,” Dusty says, leaning against the brick wall beside me. “This is going to rock!”

I grin over at him, far beyond drunk. My phone has rung twenty-three times, exactly. Twenty of those calls are from Marcus, which is kind of nice, considering he never tries to chase me up, and the other three are from Candy. My guess? He rang her and now she wants to know where I am.

I know it will upset her, that I didn’t go directly to her, but I needed someone who would allow me to just vent and let my hair down. Dusty is awesome for that. The moment I arrived and told him what happened, he bundled me up and took me out. We did shots, danced and now we’re plastered against a brick wall, him lighting a joint. Yep, I’m smoking it. No, I don’t care.

“I’ve never smoked a joint.” I giggle.

“Ohhhhh,” he chirps. “You’re going to love it.”

He leans down, pressing the small, twisted joint to his mouth. He lights it and inhales deeply. The unique smell washes over me and I cough slightly. Dusty takes another pull and passes it to me. I stare at it for too long, obviously, because he thrusts it into my hand. “Trust me, girl!”

Shrugging, I take it and bring it to my lips. I inhale deeply. The smoke hits my lungs and I cough. Holy mother. I inhale again, cough again, and pass it back to Dusty.

Within ten minutes, I’m giggling hysterically, arms thrown around Dusty. He’s laughing too, swaying with me as we stumble towards the street.

“Oh my God, this is awesome!” I cry.

“Totally. Oh my God, look at the flower.”

“Ohhh.”

I lean down and touch the hot pink petals of the stunning flower. Dusty and I both study it, oohing and ahhing as we stroke the petals. So pretty.

“I’m hungry,” Dusty says suddenly.

My stomach growls. “Me too.”

Another ten minutes later we’re sitting, pizza box open, scoffing it down as if we’ve been starved for a week. I can usually only eat two slices but tonight, I go four. My phone rings again as I’m licking my fingers. Giggling, I press the answer button and hold it to my ear.

“Helllooooooo.”

“Katia,” Marcus barks. “Where are you?”

“Hello, Husband.”

“Where. The. Fuck. Are. You?”

“Why are you always so angry?” I giggle.

“Fuck it, Katia. You’re drunk.”

“And high, Huzzy.”

Oops. That was meant to be hubby.

“Fuck me.”

“I would, but you’re not here. You could come here, and we could do it . . . right now.”

“Fuck. Where are you?”

“Ohhhh, Hubby is horny.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “Katia, focus. Where are you?”

I giggle.

“Where are we, Dusty?”

Dusty yells out the name of the pizza place and Marcus tells me not to move, he’ll be there soon.

“You’re totally going to have stoner sex.” Dusty giggles, shoving my shoulder.

“Oh my God, that sounds so fun!”

Marcus arrives twenty minutes later in his SUV. He pulls to the curb and gets out, striding over. He takes one look at me, and sighs loudly. “Fuckin’ hell.”

“Hello Marcus.” I grin up at him. “How’s it—” hiccup, “—hanging?”

“Get up. Get in the car.”

“Are we going to do it in the car?” I squeal, leaping up.

“No we are not.”

I pout, crossing my arms. “Why?”

He just stares at me. How rude.

“Dusty, you got a way home?” he asks Dusty.

“Yeah, bro, I’m cool.”

“Good,” he mutters, then turns to me. “Get in the car.”

I spin, hugging Dusty before throwing myself into Marcus’s car. I lean over, turning up the music. He climbs in, slapping my hand away and turning it down. Fun wrecker. I turn to him, and start singing loudly instead.

“Katia,” he warns. “Stop.”

“You don’t know how to have fun, do you?” I taunt.

He flicks a glare at me before focusing back on the road.

“I bet you’ve never even smoked weed.”

We’re just out of the city so he skids the car to a stop. I giggle loudly as he spins towards me, curling his fingers around the back of my neck and pulling me close. He holds my eyes, his eyes intense, then he murmurs, “You want to have fun, precious? I’ll give you fun.”

Then he reaches down, shuffling about, before coming up with a joint. My mouth drops open.

“Where did you get that?”

He smirks, but says nothing. He just puts it to his lips, lights it up and inhales deeply. Oh boy, that’s hot. He does this twice more, and then blows the smoke out slowly, filling the car. Sexy. Fuck me. I reach out for it but he shakes his head. “No, precious. You’ve had enough, but I can give you something better.”

Then he leans forward and he kisses me. Deep. Hard.

There’s something different about the way we want each other tonight. It’s probably the weed—whatever it is, it’s hot. Marcus drags me over to the back seat, then he puts me over his lap, making me straddle him. His fingers curl into my hair and he tugs harshly, causing a little cry to leave my throat.

“You like being bad, Katia?”

“Yes,” I mewl.

“How bad do you want to be?”

“Fucking bad, Marcus. Fucking. Bad.”

He rumbles low, deep in his chest, and reaches down between us, jerking his pants down and freeing his cock. “Suck me. Use your teeth. Make it hard.”

Oh. Yes.

I drop to the floor, curling my fingers around the base of his cock. I swirl my tongue around it a few times, before taking him deep into my mouth. I graze my teeth up and down, sucking hard, jerking him with my hand.

“Harder,” he growls. “Bite me.”

Fuck.

I bite him softly and he roars with pleasure. I do this more, pressing my teeth into his flesh. His fingers tug at my hair, and the painful sting from his actions radiates through my head but I don’t care. I love it. I want more. I’m just getting into it when he hauls me up and throws me down on the seat. I land on my hands and knees and he jerks my hips up, shoving my dress around my shoulders.

Then he rips my panties aside and buries his face in my pussy, from behind.

Holy. Shit.

“Marcus,” I scream, jerking my hips, pushing my ass into his face and not caring.

His fingers bite into the skin at my hip as he roughly handles me, fucking me with his tongue, sucking my clit, torturing me. Then he releases my hip and slides a finger into my ass. I arch, screaming loudly as I come. Fuck, do I come.

“Motherfucker,” he breathes. “Sweet.”

Then I’m being swung around again, I’m over his lap and he’s thrusting deep inside me. He fucks me hard for five pumps, then he slides me off and demands, “Suck yourself off me. Taste it. Lick my cock.”

My God.

I drop to my knees again, my pussy pulsing, as I close my lips around his cock. I can taste myself in the dampness that is coating him and it’s hot. He growls, cupping my face and sliding my head up and down as I take him all in.

“I want your ass, Katia.”

Oh man.

“Tell me I can fuckin’ have it.”

“You can have it,” I whimper, licking his cock head.

He puts his hands under my arms and lifts me up, crushing his mouth down over mine as he kisses me deep. Then he places me back on my hands and knees, lowers his head and licks me...right there. Right on my ass. On a normal day I’d pull away, but right now I’m so high, so fucking drunk, I don’t care. He licks me until I’m bucking against him, then he’s there, right there, pressing against me.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Mmmm.

He slides the tip in and I buck. Oh . . . oh fuck. That hurts, but I like it. My head is spinning and I’m wild, I can feel it with every inch of my body. I want it to hurt. I want the pain. I want to feel the burn.

“Fuck me, Marcus.”

“Fuck.”

He slips in further and I mewl loudly, clawing at the chair, thrashing my head from side to side.

Then he pushes in, hard and deep. I scream loudly, jerking, my body hitting maximum pain. I throw my head back and he captures my chin in his hand, leaning his body over mine. “Sweet Katia. Do you want me to fuck you now?”

“Yes,” I scream.

“Say that again.”

“Yes, fuck me hard.”

He does. He rides my ass, his fingers still curled around my chin, his other hand on my hip, using it to work his thrusts. It hurts for the first five minutes, then his finger is on my clit, and suddenly it feels nicer—not great, but nicer.

“I’m going to come,” he bites out. “You’re so fuckin’ tight.”

“Come,” I plead, my nipples a hard peak.

He thrusts a few more times, and then he roars his release inside me. I whimper his name, still wound up, still seeking my own release. His cock pulses inside me, and he slowly slides out. Then he flips me over so quickly I barely have time to squeak his name. He spreads my legs wide and pushes two fingers into my pussy while his thumb works my clit.

I’m so swollen, so turned on.

His fingers work me, his brown eyes hold mine, and I come so fucking hard I swear, I swear I see stars. His name is a garbled mess as he slides his fingers in and out, pushing each pulse from my body. Then he removes them and flops down onto the chair. I sit up, head still spinning, body still alive, and crawl onto his lap.

I press my lips into his jaw and kiss him over and over. “I fucking love you, Marcus Tandem. I don’t care what happens in my life, as long as I have you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He flinches.

I don’t notice.

I don’t notice because the drugs get the better of me and I pass out cold.