6. Marcus
Marcus
SIX MONTHS AGO.
Before the night turned too late and chaotic at The Landing, I had managed to sneak away and score the number of the waitress who caught my attention at the bar. She was fucking gorgeous with her long white-blonde hair, tight-fitted black dress, and all I wanted was to see her out of it.
Madison and I had been texting back and forth for days until she finally gave me the green light to come over for more than just a casual hang out—at least, that was what I was expecting.
Our text conversations were anything but pure. Madison was the first woman ever to have me pining over her. I never cared for the whole ‘playing hard to get’ game, but with her? I’d play all the games she wanted and more.
As confidently as ever, I swaggered my way up the steps of her townhouse and knocked on the front door. From the outside, it looked as though no one was home; all of the lights were off, and there was no visible movement through the bay window.
Seconds later, the door opened, and I saw my hot-as-fuck waitress standing in the entryway with a hand resting on her hip and a devilish smirk on her face—wearing nothing but an oversized black T-shirt.
“Well? Are you going to come in or just stand there gawking at me like you’ve never seen a half-naked woman before?” She teased, stepping back into the darkness of her home as I followed her inside.
Without warning, the door slammed shut, and I found my back pressed up against the wall, with Madison’s fists twisting in my shirt.
“Holy fu—” I barely managed to get a second word out before her mouth was on mine, and she was grinding her hips up against me, my dick growing even harder from the friction.
“You came to play, right? So let’s play, baby boy.” She growled against my lips before driving her tongue so deep she almost gagged me with it—this fucking woman.
Her hands maneuvered their way down to my jeans, unbuttoning them before she dropped to her knees and pulled the zipper down with her teeth. I sucked in a breath, my hand gripping the door handle to the point of ripping it off entirely.
This power play of hers was not even close to what I had expected coming from someone so innocent-looking. Generally, I had always been the one to take charge—but fuck… if it didn’t feel stimulating to be taken advantage of for once.
Adrenaline flooded my veins with how quickly everything was happening. One moment, I was thinking of all the things I wanted to do to her, and now my mind was in my dick, begging for her to suck me.
As my jeans fell to the floor, Madison pulled my dick out from my boxers and started stroking it, her eyes glowing as she peered up at mine, licking her hungry lips.
“Well, you certainly don’t disappoint down here.” She smirked before wrapping her mouth around me and swallowing me down the back of her throat.
“Jesus-fucking-fuck—” I gritted out, clenching my jaw as my free hand gripped the hair at the back of her head while the other still supported me with the handle. Madison moaned, and it vibrated up my shaft as she dug her nails into my thighs.
I swallowed, panting like a fucking dog as she devoured me with her mouth, making me feel sensations I’d never even dreamed of experiencing.
Was it possible to see stars when you came as a man? Because I was heading straight into the fucking stratosphere.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head as pure ecstasy dragged me under.
Just as I was on the edge of blowing my load, Madison pulled away and stood to her full height, licking her lips with an amused smirk on her face.
“Oh no, baby boy. You’re not going to come just yet. I have so much more I want to do with you.” You’ve got to be fucking kid—
Gripping my shirt once again, she dragged me across the main floor and down the hall to her bedroom as if I were nothing more than a ragdoll.
Madison shoved me down on her bed before stripping off her clothes where she stood, giving me a good look at just how stunning she was without them.
“I’m going to ruin you, gorgeous.” She cooed before climbing on top of me, and her aggressiveness only made me want her even more.
Dean was always the hardest worker, but being walled up in the office for an entire week was way out of character for him. I highly doubted that Derek would ride his ass that hard for an assignment, which I was pissed to find out was agent classified, and it made me salty as fuck.
I wanted to be on a case like that for once, but instead, I was left with the lame-ass job of finding wherever the fuck Roman Atwater had run off to.
I had hoped that Conrad would have moved on from the Ataraxia case with Charlotte dead and her murderous agents out of the picture, but since he fled the country, I now had to work with agencies overseas to see if I could get some form of lock on him.
While initially, we were investigating the women who were picking off the employees of Atwater Pharmaceuticals, the confession Roman gave Atlas made him a more substantial target to the CIA.
With Roman now considered AWOL, there was an urgent concern regarding the Ataraxia drug he had been developing, which was now being classified as a chemical weapon that could potentially be used for global terrorism.
Attempting to find a man who had scrubbed his entire life from existence was fucking impossible, and I swear Conrad only gave me this job to keep me distracted from Dean’s assignment— which, I might add, still wasn’t fucking fair.
This was the first time we had been separated on cases, and I shouldn’t have cared, other than the fact that I wanted that black folder instead of this bullshit case that wasn’t going to amount to anything.
I needed something more exciting than spending hours reviewing security footage and scouring the Internet for evidence of a man who no longer existed. I wanted to feel the same rush I had while chasing down Madison, Alexis, and Chyler on our last assignment.
Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to do that all over again.
If I were to reveal to Dean who I was fucking around with, he would have given me so much shit, but then again, it wouldn’t be surprising. I shamelessly thought with my dick—more often than not—and Madison being the murderous woman she was just added to her overall appeal.
She was like fucking around with a hornet’s nest. You knew you shouldn’t do it and that there would be dire consequences, but the temptation was intoxicating—too good to pass up.
I was always open-minded to the various dynamics of a relationship. The only fear I had when it came to sharing my woman with someone else was her love and affection for me—the potential jealousy that might stem from it.
Would someone like Madison have enough love to divide between friends—best friends at that?
I was more than willing to try if Dean was open to the idea of sharing her.
What’s the worst that could happen?
Fuck it, I’d find him a woman—my Madison.
Perhaps between the two of us, we could show her exactly how much she deserved—that we were all she needed to remain satisfied.
The real question now was, how do I approach this situation, and who do I bring this up to first?
Dean and I skipped going to Austin’s after work. He wasn’t in the mood, and if I’m being honest, I wasn’t feeling it either. After hours of nagging, I had managed to convince him to drop whatever the fuck he was researching for Derek and take the night off.
With the bar out of the equation, option two for the evening was settling for pizza and Call of Duty—a bro night in—which Dean most definitely needed, among other things.
When we initially moved to Minneapolis, Dean and I found it cost-effective to live together, and since we were close, it was a no-brainer.
Eventually, we were supposed to get our own places, but neither of us bothered to look elsewhere, so we simply continued splitting the rent here instead.
Our unit had a standard floor plan: an open kitchen and living area with a hall leading to the two bedrooms and a shared bathroom. Everything was white and grey—the typical colors for any newly built or renovated home or apartment, especially since Dean and I never bothered to decorate.
“So are you going to tell me who you’re fucking, or are you taking that to the grave?” Dean started with a wicked grin.
I knew he would be overly curious to know who I was sleeping with, especially after I admitted that feelings were getting involved, but I wasn’t sure if now would be the right time to tell him that it was Madison.
I pulled two beers from the fridge and popped the caps off as I approached the back of the couch where Dean was comfortably seated facing the TV.
“You’ll know soon enough. I need to figure a few things out with her before I say anything more. ”
“Not like you to keep your flavor of the week—or month—a secret.” He pointed out as I handed him the bottle and skirted around to take my seat next to him on the sofa.
“Try months, with an s, and as I said earlier today, she’s—”
“Yeah, yeah, she’s different , and you’re catching feelings .” Dean mocked, rolling his eyes as he drank his beer. “It’s strange to see you contemplating actually having something more than just a woman to come on your dick and leave.”
“As I said, there’s just something about her.” I shrugged, staring at the Call of Duty multiplayer lobby, which acted more like a screensaver on our TV.
“I need that…” Dean sighed after a few minutes of silence, and I arched my brow at him. “A woman who drives me to be better instead of pointing out all my flaws and issues, making me feel as though I’ll never be good enough.” He stared down at the bottle that rested on his thigh.
I could see him internally struggling to move on from Amber. Even after a week, he still couldn’t find the strength to let her go.
I tried my hardest to cheer him up and keep his mind from going dark and twisty, but I could only do so much.
Here was my best friend spiraling into a state of depression because of a girl, and here I was, swooning over a woman I couldn’t have just yet.
What did I know about grief? Who was I to tell Dean what he did and didn’t need?