Page 78 of Marked

“Kai?” Marcus’ voice had dropped an octave lower, rough around the edges. When I dared to look up, his eyes had darkened to midnight, and the way he was watching me made heat pool low in my belly.

I practically dove into the car, my face burning. Great. Now I was having inappropriate thoughts about licking Marcus Stone—Marcus freaking Stone, who probably owned half the town and owned whatever was left of my sanity. Cedar Grove was clearly doing something to my brain. Or maybe it was just him, with hisperfect everything and that look that made me want to climb him like a tree.

No. Bad Kai. No licking the local… whatever Marcus was. Town royal? Business mogul? Walking temptation in a tailored suit? And no thinking about climbing him, no matter how much he looked like the world’s hottest jungle gym in that perfectly fitted suit.

As Marcus slid into the driver’s seat, I pressed myself against the passenger door, trying to put as much space between us as possible in the confined space. I caught the slight quirk of his lips, the knowing look in his eyes as he noticed my retreat, but he didn’t comment. Thank God for small mercies. Though the way his hands flexed on the steering wheel, the subtle tension in his shoulders… maybe he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be.

The drive back started quietly, late morning sun warming the leather seats. Every time Marcus shifted gears, his hand would brush near my thigh, sending little sparks of awareness through my body. I was hyperaware of his presence—the subtle scent of his cologne, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his strong hands gripped the steering wheel. It was maddening how much I noticed, how much I wanted… to trace those veins on his forearms where he’d rolled up his sleeves, to feel those powerful hands on my skin instead of the wheel, to climb into his lap and find out if his mouth tasted as good as it looked. The urge to touch him, to be touched by him, was so strong it made my head spin.

God, what was wrong with me? I’d never been this desperate for someone’s touch before, never felt this overwhelming need to be closer, to taste, to submit—

No. Nope. Not going there. Focus on something else. Anything else. Like… trees—no, definitely not trees. I’d spent my whole life avoiding forests. Water. Yes, water was safe. Waterdidn’t make me want to do inappropriate things in expensive cars. Water didn’t have hands that looked like they could pin me down with embarrassing ease. Water didn’t—

That’s when I spotted it—a pristine lake stretched out between the trees, its surface like polished glass in the light.

“Wow,” I breathed, pressing closer to the window, grateful for the distraction from my increasingly confused thoughts.

“Cedar Lake,” Marcus said, catching my obvious interest. He turned onto a small gravel turnout overlooking the water.

The lake spread before us like polished glass in the light, surrounded by towering pines that reflected perfectly in its mirrorlike surface. A family of ducks glided across the water, leaving gentle ripples in their wake. The whole scene looked like something from a postcard—peaceful, pristine, perfect.

“It’s beautiful,” I said softly, not wanting to break the tranquil moment.

“It’s part of the Stone property,” Marcus replied, his voice equally quiet. “The far shore connects to our land.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the pristine view, the privacy of the moment, or just being alone with Marcus in this intimate space, but something shifted in the air between us. The car suddenly felt smaller, warmer. Every breath seemed to draw his scent deeper into my lungs—that mix of expensive cologne and something uniquely him that made my head swim.

The intimacy of the moment wrapped around us like a physical thing. My skin felt too tight, too sensitive, yearning for something I couldn’t name. Every breath brought his scent closer, making my head spin with want. I’d never felt anything like this before—this raw, primal need for touch, for closeness. It scared me how much I wanted to lean into him, to feel his hands on my skin.

I found myself leaning closer to Marcus, drawn by some invisible force I couldn’t fight—didn’t want to fight. My bodymoved on its own, inch by inch, until our shoulders touched. The contact sent sparks of electricity through my entire body, and I had to bite back a gasp. What was I doing? Why couldn’t I stop myself? And more importantly, when did my life turn into a romantic movie cliché? You know—attractive businessman, expensive car, meaningful gazes by a pristine lake? If this followed the usual script, there should be dramatic music swelling in the background right about now. Though honestly? Marcus was putting every movie lead I’d ever seen to shame. Not that I’d spent hours watching rom-coms. Recently. This week. But hey, romantic comedies were a lot better than lying awake listening to those weird noises upstairs in the cottage or that haunting howling in the woods that definitely wasn’t wolves because wolves didn’t live in Washington anymore, right? Right?

“Beautiful,” Marcus murmured, his voice deeper than I’d ever heard it. I wasn’t sure if he meant the lake or… but the way his eyes fixed on my face made my heart do gymnastics worthy of an Olympic medal.

We were so close now, I could feel the heat radiating from his body, could smell that intoxicating scent that was uniquely him. Something primitive and desperate clawed at my chest, begging to be closer, to be touched, to be… claimed? Great, now my brain was writing bad poetry. What next, swooning?

Oh God, am I really going to kiss him? What am I doing? Why can’t I stop? Why don’t I want to stop? Hello, brain? Earth to Kai? Anyone home? No? Just hormones and bad decisions? Cool, cool, cool…

Marcus turned his head slightly, and suddenly our faces were inches apart. His eyes had darkened to midnight, pupils blown wide with something that looked like hunger. I watched, helpless, as his gaze dropped to my lips. If this was a dream, I was going to be seriously annoyed when my alarm clock ruined it.

Move back. Move back right now. This is insane. This is Marcus Stone. This is—oh God, his cologne should be illegal in at least forty-eight states.

But my body wasn’t listening to my brain anymore. That magnetic pull between us was overwhelming, drowning out every rational thought. Something deep inside me whined with need, a part of myself I’d never known existed suddenly desperate for his touch. Apparently, my survival instincts had taken a vacation and left my hormones in charge.

“Marcus,” I whispered, my voice breaking on his name. It was half plea, half warning—though I wasn’t sure if I was pleading for him to stop me or begging him to close that final distance and put me out of my misery.

His hand came up to cup my cheek, and I swear I could feel him trembling with restraint. “We shouldn’t,” he growled, but his thumb traced my lower lip like he couldn’t help himself. Yeah, because that was totally helping my self-control.

I heard him draw in a sharp breath, saw him close his eyes like he was fighting some internal battle. But his hand didn’t move from my face, and I found myself turning into his touch like a flower seeking sun. Or more accurately, like a moth to a really expensive, perfectly tailored flame.

The need to kiss him was overwhelming now, a physical ache in my chest. My whole body hummed with it, every nerve ending screaming for contact. I’d never wanted anything so badly in my life, never felt this desperate, primal urge to submit, to offer, to—okay, brain, we get it. You can stop with the romantic narration anytime now.

With a soft sound that was definitely not a whimper—it was, totally was—I finally gave up the battle with my own body. Whatever magnetic force was pulling me toward Marcus won, and I closed that final distance and pressed my lips to his. If thiswas my body’s way of staging a coup against my brain, at least it had excellent taste in rebellion targets.

For a heartbeat, Marcus went completely still. Then he was kissing me back with an intensity that made my world tilt on its axis. His lips were firm but gentle, commanding but careful, tasting of expensive coffee and something uniquely him that made my head spin. I melted into him without conscious thought, my body going pliant under his touch in a way that should have scared me but somehow felt perfectly right. A soft whimper escaped me as his other hand tangled in my hair, holding me close as he deepened the kiss.

The first brush of his tongue against my lips had me gasping, and Marcus took full advantage, sliding inside to taste me properly. A deep growl rumbled through his chest, the sound so primal it made me shiver. Our tongues met and tangled, and oh God, how was he so good at this? Each stroke, each tease had me trembling, desperate for more. My hands clutched at his shirt, needing him closer, always closer, as shared breaths turned to soft moans between kisses.

My body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation. The touch-starved part of me I’d been ignoring for so long practically purred at the contact. When Marcus pulled back slightly only to change angles and dive back in deeper, I couldn’t help the breathless moan that escaped me. His answering growl vibrated through my entire body, making my knees weak—thank God I was sitting down. Everything narrowed down to this moment—his touch, his taste, the way he seemed to know exactly how to kiss me to make my brain short-circuit. Each sweep of his tongue, each gentle bite to my lower lip sent sparks of pleasure shooting down my spine.

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