25. Marcie
CHAPTER 25
MARCIE
DAY 4 – LATER THAT NIGHT – SAFE AT LAST
T he Jeep rumbled down the winding road, the golden light of afternoon casting a warm glow over the rugged hills. I sat squished in the backseat tucked up against Anton with Ash on my other side. Up front, Vlad was back to his usual self—silent and stoic as he drove, his earlier teasing replaced by the sharp focus of a man who took his job seriously. Miki sat in the passenger seat, his gaze scanning the horizon, ever alert.
Behind us, the second Jeep followed close, with Romi, Trigger, and Marko, no doubt bantering, and annoying the hell out of each other as they often did.
“I can’t wait to get out of these clothes,” I muttered, wrinkling my nose as I looked down at my ill-fitting, grimy outfit.
Ash turned toward me, a small smile playing on his lips. “Claire packed a bag for you. It’s got a change of clothes from your flat.”
I glanced up at him, eyebrows raised. “Oh, so you knew we’d still be alive by the time you got to us?”
“Of course, the hunters were never truly a problem. Not for Anton,” Ash replied easily. “He’s got the kind of skills and endurance most other men can only dream of.”
Anton puffed up beside me, grinning as I leaned into my Mr Sexy Soldier with a wink. “He sure does,” I teased, chuckling as the innuendo slipped effortlessly from my lips.
Ash groaned, cringing as he realised exactly what he’d said.
Miki’s low snort from the front seat made Vlad’s lips twitch, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.
The gentle motion of the car and the warmth of Anton’s arm around me soon had my eyelids growing heavy. I yawned, snuggling closer to him as my head rested against his shoulder. His hand rubbed soothing circles on my arm as I drifted off.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Anton whispered in my ear before nibbling the lobe. I swatted at him and giggled as my eyelids flickered open.
I inhaled sharply, a surge of awe rushing through me. The villa stood majestically on the hillside, overlooking a valley dotted with olive groves. Whitewashed walls gleamed under the moonlight, and the terracotta-tiled roof was framed by tall, swaying palms. A wide veranda wrapped around the front, furnished with cushioned loungers and a table set for alfresco dining.
Inside, the luxury was understated yet undeniable. Polished wooden beams stretched across the high ceilings, and a massive stone fireplace commanded one wall of the expansive open-plan living space. Soft rugs in warm, earthy tones covered the terracotta-tiled floors, while every piece of furniture exuded modern chic.
Ash led us to a spacious bedroom with a large window that overlooked the valley. I stepped inside and immediately noticed the bed—a massive, inviting expanse with crisp white linens which dominated the room. The bed. One bed.
My steps faltered.
Ash hesitated at the doorway. “If one room isn’t enough, Anton can have another. There are plenty to spare.”
I turned to look at Anton, my chest tightening with doubt. Those familiar feelings of low self-esteem still plagued me, even after all these years. Despite what he’d said, I couldn’t shake the worry. Would the bond we’d forged in the last few days survive now that the intensity had passed? Was it just adrenaline, or was there truly more to us, as this morning seemed to suggest?
But then Anton’s grin broke through my uncertainty. “One room’s fine,” he said, his voice warm with reassurance.
Relief washed over me, and I laughed as he scooped me into his arms. “Anton!” I squealed, swatting at him as he carried me across the threshold, bride-style.
He smirked down at me. “What? Thought you liked it when I swept you off your feet.”
“You’re right. I love it,” I grinned, pressing a teasing kiss to his jaw as he took me straight to the adjoining bathroom, which was just as luxurious as the rest of the villa, with a sunken tub big enough for two.
Anton set me down and kissed me—softly at first, then with growing intensity, until my knees wobbled.
While I squirmed, wet and wanting, Anton moved to turn on the water, adjusting the taps to the perfect temperature. He poured some bubble bath into the tub, watching as the water filled, foamy suds rising and filling the air with a sweet scent. When he was satisfied with the temperature, he turned back to me.
“I remember a sassy little lady telling me she wanted food, a bath, and sleep. Do you remember that?” he murmured against my neck.
I laughed, sliding my arms from around his neck as I worked on the top button of his shirt. “I do. And you said it was a deal, as long as you got to do them with me.”
“Exactly.” His voice was low, his breath warm against my ear as his hands slid under my top, pushing it up. “And did that bath include me getting to wash every inch of you?”
I bit my lip, teasing him. “I might be persuaded to agree that it did.”
His eyes darkened with amusement, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh, I’ll make sure you agree.”
Before I could respond, he kissed me again, his hands moving quickly to pull off my top and joggers. I didn’t waste any time with him either, undoing the rest of his buttons and pushing the shirt off his shoulders, then reaching for the fly of his jeans.
Once we were both naked, I sank into the warm water with a satisfied sigh. Anton followed me in, settling behind me, the steam curling around us, the soft glow of the overhead lights reflecting off the marble making the room feel almost ethereal, a haven of safety—a world away from the constant fear that had clung to me for the last few days.
My sexy soldier’s touch was both tender and possessive, as he wrapped his arms around me. “You are one sexy woman, Marcie,” he murmured between kissing and nibbling on my neck, his fingers skimming my body. I arched back into him with a moan.
Anton lifted a washcloth, letting the water drip across one breast, then the other. My whole body shuddered at the light, teasing sensation.
I turned in his arms, straddling him as the water rippled against our skin. “Let’s take care of each other,” I whispered, my fingers brushing the edge of the cloth. Anton’s smile deepened as he handed it to me.
Slowly, I ran the cloth over his broad chest, moving lower to his stomach, delighting in the feel of his muscles shifting beneath my touch. Every inch of him felt solid, real, and as I reached his thighs, I felt his breath hitch.
“You’re so damn good at this,” Anton rasped, his hands moving to my hips, urging me closer. We kissed and I ground my pussy against his hardness making him moan.
“My turn,” he smirked, his eyes darkening as he reached for the cloth again, his movements slow and deliberate. He ran it over my neck, down my arms, and then gently across my breasts.
“God, Anton, your touch makes it hard to think,” I panted.
Then don’t, honey. Just feel,” he whispered, brushing his lips over mine as he placed the cloth aside. His hands explored me, caressing my breasts with an almost reverent touch at first, then becoming firmer—squeezing, tweaking, rolling my nipples. He dipped his head, sucking on one, then the other. Jolts of pleasure shot through me, my body quivering with each pull.
Whimpering, I bit my lip as the passion between us grew, the pressure building in my core. His lips found mine again, kissing me deeply, while his hands roamed lower, brushing against my sensitive skin.
I moaned into the kiss, every nerve alive with need as Anton cupped me gently, his thumb finding my sweet spot. His touch was firm yet tender, circling my clit with a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure through me.
Mr Sexy Soldier took his time, using his thumb and fingers expertly, making sure to bring me to the edge, before pulling back just enough to keep me on the brink.
My breathing became rapid, short, sharp, jagged breaths. “Please Anton, I need you,” I pleaded, panting, desperate for more. “Sir,” I whispered, the word no more than a breath as he finally guided me over the edge, spiralling into a climax that tore a cry from my throat.
I trembled in his arms, my head falling back as I surrendered to the pleasure.
Anton’s gaze never left me as he shifted, pulling me close again, his hands stroking my back soothingly as I slowly came down from the high. His mouth found mine again, soft and tender this time, before he broke the kiss with a grin.
“Your turn,” I whispered, barely able to catch my breath.
Grinning wickedly, I reached between us and grasped his thick, rigid length, licking my lips and groaning in delight when it pulsed in my hand, hot, hard, and heavy.
“Marcie,” my name was forced from his lips as he hissed at my touch. The sound egging me on.
Moving my hand up and down, slowly, playing the same game with him as he had with me. I smirked and savoured every little groan, moan, and hitch of breath as my Mr Sexy Soldier gave in completely to the blazing intensity of our chemistry.
Eventually, I increased the motion. The water lapped around us, threatening to spill over the sides as I pumped my hand in rhythm with his fast, shallow, ragged breaths. As his body tensed, I leaned in to kiss him deeply, drawing him closer.
“Come for me, Sir,” I demanded.
His chest heaved. “Fuck, Marcie,” he ground out, and with a final groan, he came, his release spilling all over my hand. But I didn’t stop, my fingers squeezing around him until every last drop was out. As he shuddered, I kissed him again, feeling the heat of his breath mingle with mine, before pulling away, my hand still coated in his desire.
As the water settled around us, the room quiet except for the sound of our breathing, we shared a moment of contentment. Anton pulled me close, wrapping me in his arms, my head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
My stomach growled, breaking the spell. Anton chuckled, lifting me out of the water and wrapping me in a soft towel. “One item ticked off the list. Time for the next. Let’s get you fed.”
Hand in hand, we dressed and followed the scent of garlic and spices into the open-plan kitchen.
“Hmm, I know that smell,” Anton said as we entered the room.
“Chicken parmigiana and garlic bread,” Romi replied, pulling a dish from the oven. “Nonna sent your favourite,” he added, grinning. “She insisted when she heard what was going on. You know how she loves feeding everyone when they need comfort.”
Anton chuckled and licked his lips as his gaze locked on to the dish.
I’d heard all about Nonna, the Rominov housekeeper who was more like a surrogate grandmother to everyone—hence the moniker “Nonna”—and her infamous cooking, which apparently outshone even the most renowned chefs in the world. As a woman who loved her food, excitement filled me at the prospect of tasting it.
“It smells amazing,” I said, sniffing appreciatively as Romi dished up the food into beautifully crafted serving bowls.
“Food’s ready!” he called, and the rest of the guys practically stampeded into the room, fighting good-naturedly over the bowls like a pack of hungry hyenas.
Later, back in the bedroom, Anton handed me a phone. “Marko got us replacements.”
“I need to thank him for this—and for the tracker earrings. I’m assuming that’s how they found us at the stables,” I said.
Anton nodded. “Yeah, once they had a rough idea where we were, Marko pinpointed our approximate location. As they got closer, he picked up your signal.”
His lips brushed mine in a brief kiss before he pulled away. “You should call Claire, then Gracie and Derrick. Let them know you’re okay. Marko’s already updated them, but they’ll want to hear it from you. While you’re doing that, I’m calling Nick. Then I need to join the others for a debrief and start putting together a plan. The sooner we take down Elizabeth Traynor and her goddamn hunts, the better.”
The words hit me like a jolt of adrenaline, and I didn’t hesitate. “I want in on that,” I said, my voice edged with determination. I wasn’t about to stay safely on the sidelines while Anton and the others took care of things. I had my own stake in taking her down—and every right to be involved. I might not be able to do much, but I had to be there. Over the last few days, I’d borne the pain of sore feet, aching muscles, and constant fear, holding it all together with only a thread of composure—not just to make things easier for Anton, but for another reason entirely: revenge. I wanted to look that psychotic bitch in the eye when she was finally brought to her knees.
Anton stared at me for what felt like an eternity, and for a moment, I thought he was going to refuse. I opened my mouth to argue when a slow, sexy smile spread across his face.
“I don’t want you anywhere but by my side from now on, honey. Wherever you go, I go, and vice versa. Even if that means going into battle.” He stepped closer, his voice lowering, hardening. “But you will do whatever I tell you. I trust you to follow my instructions, Marcie. My orders,” he added with meaning, and I swallowed, realising just how much trust he was placing in me. “I mean it—no heroics. I haven’t forgotten that you came flying to my rescue, pitchfork in hand, earlier, even after I told you to let me handle things.”
“I know, but I promise I won’t let you down this time. I’ll follow your orders, Anton. You can count on me,” I said, my voice steady, the pressure of my words settling into my chest.
He brushed his fingers down my cheek, his touch feather light, before cupping my jaw and pressing another soft kiss to my lips. “I know I can, honey, and that’s why I want you—no, need you—by my side, always.” The sincerity in his gaze was raw, and it hit me like a wave, bringing tears to my eyes. I smiled, my heart swelling at the realisation that this strong, capable, sometimes distant man—who’d been so afraid to risk his heart—was now giving it to me fully.
Mr Sexy Soldier hadn’t said the words yet, the ones I longed to hear, to say in return, but I felt them in my bones. In my heart, I knew it was only a matter of time.
While Anton left to handle things, I made my calls, the tenderness of our exchange still humming through me. As I reassured everyone and caught up on work with Derrick, exhaustion settled in. I curled up on the bed, the men’s voices drifting in from the next room, their murmurs lulling me to sleep.
Sometime later, Anton slipped into the room, his presence like a comforting warmth. He climbed into bed, pulling me close, and I melted into his embrace. For the first time in days, I felt safe—but even in the stillness of the night, a part of me knew that the danger wasn’t over. The fight wasn’t done yet, but I was now in a position to face it. And more than ready to. With Anton by my side, there was nothing I wouldn’t face.