Page 35 of In the Middle of No(ah)where
Walking towards Marcus's car, I welcome the soft glow of the streetlights. My brain is a bit overstimulated from tonight's event. The air around is chilled and filled with shadows. The creepy clown at hole eighteen pops in my head, and I involuntarily sidle up next to Marcus. He smiles and wraps his arm around me intimately. What is it about his touch that calms me?
"I had such a wonderful time tonight." Marus gives my side a little squeeze.
"It was the most fun I've had in a long time. Thank you." I tell him. "I'd hate for the night to be over." I hint.
"Why does it have to be?" His blown pupils tell me we're feeling the same thing. It's been two years of pining, and I'm ready to take this to the next level. "You want to come back to my place?"
"Please," I whisper.
The journey back to Marcus's apartment is a silent testament to our shared anticipation.The radio plays soft jazzin the background. The car suddenly feels intimate, a prelude to the close encounter that awaits. Unspoken desires and anxieties that are about to come to fruition.
???
I take in the living room around me, noting the carefully chosen details: a worn leather armchair, a collection of vintage records, and a bookshelf overflowing with books. It's a space that feels lived in, comfortable, and undeniably Marcus. The small details paint a picture of Marcus' life. His personality. His history.The room itself feels like an invitation. A welcome into his world that I'm ready to explore.
"Please, make yourself at home," Marcus teases as he sees me scrolling through the books on his shelf, along with souvenirs from his travels. "Would you like something to drink?"
"Water would be nice," I rasp, feeling the dryness of my mouth.
Sitting on the sofa, soft lighting spills from a lamp on the side table, casting long shadows onto the curtains. The soft glow of light adds warmth to the room–intimate and safe–and I allow it to envelop me. I sink further into the back of the couch, feeling more at home than I have in years.
"Comfy, isn't it?" Marcus asks, coming back into the room and holding out a bottle of water to me.
I crack the lid and take a deep pull, letting the cool liquid coat my throat.
"I've… I've been thinking about this all day," Marcus breaks the silence. His eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and lust. His admission shocks me.
I guess we're just going to jump right in. Skip the foreplay.
"Me too. Longer, actually." A simple phrase with colossal meaning. I take another sip of water.
Marcus switches on some low music, a mellow jazz tune that fills the space with a sense of calm. The gentle rhythm synchronizes with the beating of my heart. A subtle soundtrack to what is about to happen between us. What I have longed for over two years. A connection.
"I want this to be good," Marcus' words are barely audible as he takes the bottle from my hand, sets it on the coffee table, and claims the seat next to me. His confession contrasts with his earlier banter while playing mini golf, revealing Marcus' vulnerability.
I reach out, and it's my turn to trace his jawline, feeling his rough stubble. "It will be good," I promise, offering him reassurance, although I'm glad to know I'm not the only nervous one.
The air between us is filled with unspoken words, shared glances, and a growing sense of anticipation.There's no rush, no pressure, just a quiet understanding, allowingthe moment to unfold at its own pace. Two souls drawn together by an unseen force.
Marcus stands, reaches for my hand to lift me up off the couch, and pulls me into his chest, where he holds me tight to his body. The muscles under his shirt are solid, and I can't wait to feel them without the barrier of fabric. I kiss him gently on the mouth before my hands move faster than my brain. I lift the shirt over his head, my knuckles skimming the skin on his sides along the way. He lifts his arms to allow me to remove it entirely. I drop it on the floor and press my hands against his bare back, and electricity surges through me. I bury my face in his neck to take in his scent before pressing my lips to the part where his neck meets his shoulder and sucking gently. I want to leave a mark on him.
"Hold on." Marcus pants, breaths coming out short and quick. He leads me down a short hallway and into his bedroom. It's an extension of the living room. It's all him. The same lived-in feel. The scent of his cologne. God, his scent is killing me–clean and masculine.
"I need you," I admit.
"You'll have me." Marcus takes my mouth deeper. Rougher. Passion flows between us, and he turns carnal.
"Yes," I breathe out in a moan as his lips graze and teeth nibble my earlobe.
He's as turned on as I am. I feel his hard length press against mine through our jeans. My head is in a state of fog. I shake it, trying to clear the fuzziness and stay present in the moment. And just in time. Marcus begins to lift my shirt. My head clears instantly, and a bit of panic overtakes me. My heart starts racing as I place my hands on top of his.
"Yellow," I call out my safeword through my panic.
Marcus stops, removing his hands from my shirt, and sits on the bed facing me. Inspecting me. "Talk to me."
I don't say anything. Just sit and take some deep breaths, trying to get my thoughts under control.
"Now that I've had a minute to think, it's stupid," I tell him and feel my face heat with embarrassment.
