Page 38 of Bar Down

"Systems-oriented. Practical. Attacks problems by identifying structural weaknesses." A fond expression softened his features. "She would have made an excellent coach."

Stephanie smiled, imagining the formidable woman who had raised these two very different but equally impressive children. "I'd like to meet her sometime."

The words slipped out before she could analyze their implications—the assumption of future visits, of continued connection beyond this road trip and their professional alliance.

Marcus didn't seem troubled by the presumption. "She'd appreciate your strategic approach to communication. Though she'd probably tell you you're too guarded with your emotional responses."

"Like mother, like daughter, apparently," Stephanie observed wryly.

The atmosphere of Amara's apartment had created a bubble of normalcy, temporarily shielding them from Reed's threats and Darby & Darby's looming changes.

"Thank you," Marcus said suddenly. "For having lunch with Amara yesterday. It meant a lot to her."

"I enjoyed it," Stephanie replied honestly.

The Uber arrived and as they drove back toward the hotel, a comfortable silence settled between them. By the time they pulled into the underground parking garage, Marcus had already mapped out the most strategic approach to minimize their risk of being seen together. Separate elevators. Staggered timing. Different entry points. All logical, responsible choices that evaporated from his mind the moment they stepped out of the car and walked to the entrance.

The dim lighting of the nearly empty garage cast shadows across her face, highlighting the curve of her lips, the elegant line of her throat, the subtle rise and fall of her chest with each breath. Heat surged through him, catching him off guard with its intensity.

"We should head up," she said, but made no move to go.

"Separately," he agreed, equally motionless.

Her eyes met his, and whatever she saw there made her breath catch audibly. "Marcus..."

The sound of his name on her lips broke his restraint. He reached for her, one hand sliding to the nape of her neck as he pulled her toward him. Their mouths met with none of his usual calculation—just raw hunger.

Stephanie responded instantly, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she kissed him back with matching intensity. The taste of her—wine and something uniquely her—shot straight to his core. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that pulled a soft moan from her throat. The sound ignited something primal in him, something he'd always kept tightly controlled during games and practices and team functions.

"Wait," she gasped against his mouth. "Not here. Anyone could walk by."

Logic briefly reasserted itself. Marcus pulled back just enough to look at her—lips already swollen, cheeks flushed, eyes dark with the same need coursing through his veins.

"Elevator," he managed, his voice a rough growl he barely recognized.

They hurried through the hotel lobby. Every step was torturous, his body thrumming with awareness of her beside him, the memory of her taste still fresh on his lips.

The elevator bank was tucked into a secluded corner of the hotel, temporarily out of sight from security cameras and prying eyes. The moment they rounded the corner, Marcus's control snapped. He backed Stephanie against the wall beside the elevator, one hand braced beside her head, the other gripping her hip.

"Eight seconds until the elevator arrives," he murmured, eyes locked on hers. "Tell me to stop."

"Marcus," she breathed against his mouth, and hearing his name on her lips nearly undid him.

His hand slid from her waist to her thigh, feeling the heat of her skin through her jeansAll that mattered was getting closer to her, tasting more of her, feeling the way she trembled slightly under his touch.

When she bit gently at his lower lip, a growl rumbled deep in his chest. He broke the kiss only to trail his mouth along her jaw, down to the pulse point on her neck where he could feel her heartbeat racing against his lips. Her head fell back, giving him better access as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin there.

"This is—" she gasped as his hand slid higher on her thigh, "—not exactly keeping a low profile."

"Don't care," he murmured against her throat, the vibration of his words making her shiver. "

His declaration seemed to break something open between them. Stephanie ground herself against him, and there was no hiding his physical response to her—hard and insistent against her body.

"I can tell," she whispered, a smile in her voice as she rocked subtly against him.

Marcus groaned, his hands moving to her hips to hold her in place. The friction was maddening, even through layers of clothing. He recaptured her mouth, kissing her deeply as his hands slid under her sweater to find bare skin.

The heat of her under his palms sent electricity racing through his system. Her skin was impossibly soft compared to his callused hands, but she didn't seem to mind, arching into his touch as his fingers traced the curve of her waist, the edge of her bra, the ridges of her ribs.

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