Page 21 of The Best Man

“Was she in the bedroom?” Matt asks, alarmed.

“Oh, fuck,” Jared says.

This is a walk of shame on steroids, but Marcus manages to shield me from most of it, and since he told me not to look back, I keep my gaze focused ahead until we’ve made it out the door.

I managed to avoid looking at them, but my face is still hot with embarrassment when we walk to his car.

I expect him to get in on his side, so I’m surprised when he follows me around to mine.

“Hey,” he says, grabbing my arm and turning me around.

I look up at him.

“You don’t have to feel ashamed. No one’s going to blame you, all right? They’re all going to blame me. I was behind it, not you.”

“But I’m the one they took turns fucking,” I say softly.

Marcus smiles tenderly, caressing my face. “And they loved every fucking second of it, didn’t they?” He lets his hand slide around my waist, then around my back. His hand slides down to cup my ass, then he pulls me against him.

I look up at him, surprised, only a breath before his lips meet mine.

My tummy tumbles and my heart takes flight as he kisses me.

When he pulls back, I feel a little unsteady, and I’m confused when he murmurs gently but firmly, “I asked you a question, pretty girl.”

I lick my lips and taste him on them. “Um…” I think, and then I remember what the question was. He wants me to confirm that I know his brothers enjoyed fucking me.

Memories of taking all their cocks in my body wash over me and give me another reason to flush. Even after being used again and again, the memory of how it felt to be their little fuck slut for the night makes my pussy wet again.

He’s waiting for an answer, so I nod, too overwhelmed to speak.

He cups my face in his hands and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, then he steps back and opens the car door for me.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says.

Chapter Seven

Marcus doesn’t take me to my place.

He takes me to his.

He didn’t ask if I wanted to come here, but I don’t object.

As soon as we get inside and he locks up, he puts a guiding hand on my waist and takes me to the kitchen for a cold bottle of water.

I gulp down half of it before we even make it to the stairs.

I’ve never been to his place before, so I don’t know where anything is. His house is beautiful, though. It’s the kind of place I could see raising a family.

Although innocent in my head, as soon as the thought passes through my mind, I remember him accusing me of being a golddigger to his mom. Did he mean that? Was it just the easiest way to make her dislike me?

He takes me upstairs and down the hall to his bedroom. He doesn’t flick on the light, but his windows aren’t covered in blackout blinds so plenty of light spills in.

He takes my hand and leads me into the bathroom.

He turns on the shower, then he begins to undress.

I guess we are both in need of a good shower.

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