24. Marc
Marc
“Y es, you’re very beautiful, but I don’t need a massage. Not with a happy ending or without.”
Two minutes ago, Marc had been filled with disappointment when Phae knocked him back once again. Disappointment and a little hope, because at least they were talking, and if they were talking, that gave him a chance.
But now? Now he was glad she’d gone back to her room because he definitely hadn’t ordered a half-naked woman with a portable massage couch. And she was stunning. A local, judging by the looks and the accent, and probably right out of the Miss Indonesia pageant.
“You look stressed.” She took another step forward. “Let me help you to relax.”
“How did you get in here? This floor is supposed to be locked down.”
She shrugged, and the satin robe slipped off her shoulders, revealing a lacy brassiere. “Nobody was watching the stairs.”
“The room was locked.”
“My brother works here. He tell me you look stressed.”
“Trust me, having your hands all over my body isn’t going to help with that.”
“Why don’t you try?”
“No, I don’t think so.” How did the couch fold up? Marc tried lifting one end, and a leg fell off. Fuck. He changed tack and took the woman’s arm instead. “I’ll show you out.”
“No, no, no, I?—”
The door crashed against the wall, and suddenly, there were women everywhere. Arms, hair, shrieking. Miss Indonesia clung to the bedpost as Emmy and Phae tried to haul her out of the room, and sheesh, was that blood?
A stun gun crackled, then flew through the air and skidded across the floor. Marc crawled under the bed to retrieve it, and when he got to his knees, Serena was standing in the doorway, staring open-mouthed.
“Ohmigosh, not again?”
“It’s not my fault, I swear.”
She waded into the fray and grabbed a leg, but Miss Indonesia had a surprisingly good grip. Emmy was trying to pry her fingers away from the bedpost as Phae snatched up the stun gun and zzzzzzzap . Everyone fell in a heap.
Heath ambled in. “What did I miss?”
“Go and tell security they’re fired,” Emmy ordered, spitting hair out of her mouth. “All of them.”
Phae began dragging the woman toward the door by an arm, but Emmy stopped her.
“We’ve got this. Go handle your man.”
“He’s not my man,” she snapped.
Wrong. “Actually, he is.”
Serena clasped her hands over her heart. “That’s so sweet.”
Emmy hefted Miss Indonesia onto her shoulder the way Phae had done with KD—did they train for that in ninja school?
—and Serena gave Marc a thumbs-up as she ran to hold the door.
Then they were gone, leaving Marc alone with a headache, a broken massage couch, and a mightily pissed off ex-girlfriend.
Oh hell, was her lip bleeding? It was. He tilted her chin to examine the damage.
“Who was she?” Phae muttered.
“I have no idea, but I like the jealousy. It suits you.”
“Shut up.”
“I’ll get you some ice.”
“I don’t need ice.”
“Then what do you need?”
She stared at him for the longest time, and he held his breath, waiting. Hoping.
“I need something I’m going to regret in the morning.”
Marc hardened in a heartbeat.
“Then take it.”
“One night, nothing more.”
“Take everything.”
She backed him up to the bed and shoved him onto it, following him down. A blade flashed in her hand, and what the fuck?
She answered his unasked question. “Danger and play—you wanted this.”
He watched in fear and fascination as she sliced his clothes to shreds, clawing the fabric away from his body, pausing only to unbuckle his belt.
His cock sprang free, and he tangled his fingers in her hair as she feasted on it, sore lip be damned.
She wasn’t gentle. Teeth scraped the underside of his shaft, and her nails left dents where she gripped his hips, but he knew this would be an orgasm like no other.
He felt it building. The pressure. The pleasure.
Seeing his cock disappear into her throat was as close to nirvana as a man would ever get.
Groaning, he flipped her so she was underneath him.
“What are you?—”
“Phae always comes first, remember?”
She stopped struggling as he peeled off first her pants and then her underwear. The knife was on the bed, abandoned, and he picked it up. Tried to use it to cut through her shirt, but it wasn’t as easy as she made it appear, and she grimaced as he sawed at the neckline.
“For fuck’s sake, be careful. I don’t want my obituary to read ‘died in sex game with ham-handed movie star.’”
“It’s not my fault they only let me practise with rubber blades.”
Finally, the fabric fell away, and he sliced through the front of her bra. Her nipples puckered into hard peaks when he pinched them, and he knew exactly where he’d be coming later.
But first, Phae.
She tasted exactly as he remembered, sweet as honey. Her hips arched up to meet his tongue, and curses dripped from her lips as he got to work. She thought she’d regret this in the morning? He’d make sure the only thing she regretted was walking away.
“More!” she gasped. “Give me more.”
“I’ll give you everything if you let me.”
She came with a cry and his name on her tongue, and he held her hips to the bed, tasting the aftershocks. In their younger years, she’d been more reserved, and he loved new Phae even more than the old version.
He loved that she’d grown into herself.
Loved that she’d become who she was meant to be.
Loved her even with the darkness in her soul.
She’d always been the woman for him, and that would never change.
Only he understood where she’d come from, only he knew why she was the way she was.
“Fuck my mouth. Do it.”
She’d also gotten bossier, and he loved that too.
The headboard rattled against the wall as he thrust into her throat, and even as she choked, she squeezed his ass, urging him on. Was this punishment or pleasure? Maybe she thought she needed both. And after years of radio silence, maybe she deserved both.
Marc’s balls tightened, then released as he finally let go. She took it all—his cum, his heart, his sanity.
Her eyes watered as he withdrew.
“You okay?” he whispered, and there was that regret again.
“You think I’d have let you do that if I wasn’t? Tell me you have a condom.”
“I have a condom.” A whole box, in fact. “I swear I didn’t plan on hooking up with anyone, though.”
“Not my business if you did.”
“It is. My assistant packed my bag. And for the record, I never stopped loving you.”
“You should have.”
“This isn’t a hate-fuck, Phae. Don’t try to turn it into one.”
She glared at him through narrowed eyes, then tossed her hair and huffed.
“Fine.”
“I’m glad we got that cleared up.”
Sinking into Phae was like coming home after half a lifetime away. He knew her body, and she knew his. Knew that he liked to see her ride him, angling her hips to bring her G-spot into play. His fingers found her clit on autopilot, pressing and circling as she threw back her head.
Marc watched her every second, needing to memorise each twitch of her lips, each ripple of her muscles. Her body was harder now, tougher, tauter. Little scars had appeared, and he traced one on her thigh with a fingertip.
“What happened?” he asked.
She opened her eyes and glanced down. “That one? Shrapnel.”
“And this one?” His fingertip found a pale white line on her arm.
“I didn’t get out of the way of a knife fast enough. Relax, that was a long time ago.”
Phae ground down on him, and the second orgasm was sweeter than the first. Her muscles clenched, milking every drop of cum from his cock as he pulled her forward and peppered her cheeks with kisses.
“How can I ever relax again?”
“You want me to get the masseuse back?”
“I do not.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to take a different approach.”
New Phae had stamina. She fucked him into exhaustion, on the bed, against the wall, in the shower. Finally, as the sun crept over the horizon, his eyelids grew heavy, and he gathered her close, her head resting on his chest as he kissed her damp hair.
“I hate that I still love you,” she murmured. Or at least, he thought she did. Perhaps he was dreaming?
“Why?”
“Feelings make life so much harder.”
* * *
When he woke, he wasn’t surprised to find her gone. But he did feel a profound sadness. The first time around, the heartbreak had been tinged with anger, but now gloom blocked out the Indonesian sunshine.
He found Emmy in Heath and Serena’s suite, eating breakfast.
“Have you seen Phae?”
“She said something came up, and she had to fly home.”
“Did she leave a message?”
Emmy shook her head. “Try not to take it personally. Her life isn’t an easy one.”
Being kidnapped had never been on Marc’s bucket list, but it had come with one significant benefit: the gift of insight.
Now he knew why Phae had walked away, and he understood it hadn’t been as easy for her as he’d always assumed.
He also knew she’d never change. Rex Roebuck had broken something in his little girl, and those flaws drove Phae now.
She’d turned weakness into strength and hurt into determination.
She’d never stop.
And he’d never stop loving her for that.
Serena put a hand on Marc’s arm. “I’m sorry she didn’t stay.”
“Yeah, so am I.”