Page 5 of Wicked Truths

“You’re very good at deflecting…”

“Not all of us have fat bank accounts to buy us auditions with top labels,” he muses as his palms hit the wall above my head. God, he’s really close, and he also smells delicious, but it’s the look on his handsome face that does my head in. “Some of us started from the bottom with no connections and no hand up. It’s a cold, hard world out there, princess.”

I genuinely do feel bad for him. His entire family is musical, but he didn’t have access to those connections because he was put up for adoption.

My arms cross in front of me, but Marcus doesn’t touch me. He stays back just enough that there’s no physical contact. I kind of wish he would sink his body against mine. It’s so much easier when we don’t talk.

“Nothing to say?” he taunts.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” I stare at the floor. My bare toes wiggle as I fight the urge to run. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

No matter what I say, he’s going to twist it. He always does.

Marcus tilts my face up to his with his thumb and forefinger on my chin. “Then what did you mean? Already trying to get rid of me? It’s a pretty solid theme with…” He laughs and it’s a cold, bitter sound. “Everyone in my life now that I think about it.”

My eyes squeeze shut as a twinge of pain hits me right in the heart. I know it’s not my own discomfort. It’s concerning as hell that I can feel the echo of his hurt so strongly.

Omegas are sensitive to the emotions of others. Something in our biological makeup allows us to sense the feelings and moods of those around us, but it’s never this intense. It means we’re compatible on a biological level. Which is dangerous considering the mess I’ve gotten myself into with him.

“I just mean you could be the next Damian Sinclair or Johnny Kincaid,” I whisper, trying to look away, but he’s still holding my chin. “Especially now that you have the connections.” My stomach drops when I realize what I just said. Comparing him to the guy he thought was his father and the other dick who hurt his sister… I cannot believe I said that. “I didn’t say that right either.” I uncross my arms. My hands land on his sweaty chest as I focus on breathing through my mouth. Marcus’s scent instantly affects me on a biological level. Playing guitar is a workout. He’s sweaty from bouncing around while he played. “I’m sorry. Just ignore me.”

I always seem to put my foot in my mouth where he’s concerned. His arms still frame my head, but he watches me intently.

“You know what it’s like to have a connection to music.” His dark eyes seem to stare straight through me. “But without it, you’d still have Daddy’s money and fifty other things you could do with your life. I don’tneedto be the center of attention.”

The way he says it makes it clear it’s a jab at me. That pisses me off. The condescending expression on his face doesn’t help anything.

He might be right about me wanting to be a star, but he’s got more money than I do from what I heard listening to the guys in Matted Whine talk. Marcus was living with them and their girlfriend Love McKinley here in the penthouse before we moved in.

Marcus and I are like oil and water. He loves pushing my buttons. Sometimes he can get away with it because I dislike confrontation, but he’s wearing on my last damn nerve.

“Didn’t you inherit half of Damian Sinclair’s empire?” I ask.

He doesn’t reply, so I give his chest a shove. Marcus isn’t huge like Hawk, but he’s got eight or nine inches in height on me, and he doesn’t budge.

It’s all kind of confusing, but I heard he inherited a bunch of money from Damian.

Supposedly, Damian split his empire, giving half to Marcus and the rest to his half-sister, Lyric Sinclair.

“I gave the majority of that back to Lyric’s charity,” Marcus says, raising an eyebrow like he’s interested to see what I come up with next.

“I didn’t come in here to start shit with you,” I say, gasping when I notice the top of my tank top is gaping.

Marcus smirks. His eyes are glued to my tits. Shit, my nipples are extremely hard and… I finally catch up with reality and slap my arm over my breasts.

The two black stainless steel balls that frame his lower lip catch my attention as he grins. He never smiles, but damn those snake-bite piercings he got a few months ago are really freaking hot.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Marcus murmurs the question against my cheek.

I have no idea when he got so close, but my system vibrates with want for his delicious, beachy, salty scent.

“S-Shower,” I stutter and blanch when I realize what he asked. “You know it’s not like that.”

“But you wish it was,” he taunts, looking practically gleeful.

My crush on Sullivan is no longer under wraps. The night I made a move, Marcus was there to witness the entire thing.

My gaze falls to the floor. That entire experience is one I’d like to wipe from my memory.

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