Page 9 of Wicked Truths

What if he decides to go back to Texas and leave the industry completely?

What if he stays but things are never the same between us?

“Let’s have some fun,” Marcus growls. He’s so tall he has to bend down quite a bit to get close to my ear. “If you’re really that desperate to get fucked tonight then I’m happy to oblige.”

An embarrassing gasp escapes my lips as my hands land on his chest. He’s surprisingly muscular considering I’ve never seen him work out once in the weeks we’ve been living together in Jamen’s penthouse.

Marcus turns me around and wraps an arm around my lower back. I try to look over my shoulder toward where I saw Sulli last, but Marcus tilts my face back to the stairs.

“Nah, you don’t need to focus on what he’s doing,” he says.

My heart drops into my stomach.

No, I guess I don’t.

Instead, I let Marcus guide me to the second floor VIP section.

“Can we get a drink?” I ask.

The bar isn’t as packed on this level.

“One,” Marcus growls, his grip on my hip tightening. “You’re not getting sad-wasted on my watch.”

“Thank you,” I whisper as my eyes slide shut. I’m really freaking grateful not to be alone right now. I don’t think I could handle it.

We have a couple fruity drinks that I don’t know the name for, but they’re sweet. Marcus is surprisingly good company as he makes jokes trying to cheer me up. We finish the cocktail we’re sharing and head out onto the dance floor.

Music and alcohol vibrate through my system as Marcus grinds his body against mine, song after song. I try to focus on anything other than how hot he looks staring down at me like he wants to devour me whole.

He’s an asshole.

I know this.

He uses sarcasm and aggression to hide his own pain, and I hate that. My eyes have a mind of their own as they keep migrating back to his. He’s grown in some stubble lately, and it makes him downright sexy. Those snake bite piercings of his catch in the light as he smirks.

He’s completely opposite from any guy I’ve ever been attracted to. Normally I go for clean-cut guys like cowboys or even the trust-fund kids that hung around the same places I did back home.

Despite all that, Marcus’s hands feel incredible as they slide over the thin material of my dress. My nipples ache with the same feeling that echoes in my very empty core.

Marcus’s slender build feels strong as I lean into him. His forearm rests in the indent of my hip as he teases my ass with that hand. The other holds my neck in a firm grip as his thumb dances over my jaw. My entire body feels overly sensitive as my thighs clench.

“You must really want to get fucked tonight. You keep grinding on my cock, looking at me like that, and you’ll get your wish.” His warm breath fans over my neck as his lips tease my sweaty skin.

I gasp, clutching onto him even more tightly.

“I-I…” I don’t know what to say because I do want that. I just don’t know how to ask for it.

“I fucking knew it,” he growls against the side of my head. “Sorry to tell you this, but your suppressants suck. You’re full-blown perfuming for me.”

I whine against his T-shirt as his hold clamps down even tighter.

“Right,” he says, shaking his head. His dark eyes take my breath away, or maybe it’s the look on his face as he stares down at me. “You can’t be up in here smelling like that. Fuck. We’re in the middle of a club filled with alphas. Come on, I’ve got you.” He lifts me, wrapping me around his front, and stomps off somewhere. I don’t know where because I bury my face in his shoulder.

Marcus talks to someone and eventually pulls out his wallet. He does something and the chain rattles as he shoves it away in his back pocket. I briefly peek over my shoulder and see one of the bartenders leading us…somewhere.

“Don’t take forever,” the guy says, unlocking a door and nodding. “And don’t leave it a mess.”

“Got it,” Marcus growls, stomping inside. He bumps the door closed with his hip before locking it. My legs tighten around his ass as he slams me against the wall.

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