Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Marcus
N othing is going the way I’d hoped. Not a single thing.
Hallie is everywhere—on my property, in my house, and more often than not, underneath or astride me.
Not that I’m not enjoying it. I am.
Too much to end this, too much to let her go. That’s the problem. I’m setting myself up to fail, and I can’t seem to stop.
I look down at my phone for what seems like the thousandth time, waiting for Hallie to see the text message I’d sent her right before takeoff. The trip to Vegas wouldn’t have us in the air for long, but it’d be long enough for a little bit of mischief.
I flick my eyes up, grateful for my height, as I watch her discreetly four rows ahead, where she’s sitting next to Erica.
I look down again, and there’s still no reply.
My options to get her attention are limited to me physically going to speak to her or throwing the pretzels I’d brought for a snack over the three rows separating us. Neither option feels like the best of ideas, especially with Jules beside me. He’d have me committed if I started to throw snacks.
Finally, my phone lights up.
Hallie: You paid for my Wi-Fi?
Marcus: If you prefer, I can just shout filthy things at you across the plane.
Hallie: I’m sure Jules would be thrilled.
Marcus: Precisely. I thought I’d keep my plans for you to use my face as a chair just between us.
Three dots move on the screen, but no message arrives.
Marcus: Was that a squirm I just spied?
Hallie: Yes. Yes, it was. The thought of your tongue between my thighs is making me wet.
Marcus: What about the thought of me bare as we fuck? Of how I’m going to push my fingers back inside of you after we’re done so I can feel how wet you are then.
My eyes are on her as I press Send , waiting, craving to see her reaction to this thing she’s asked for that I, too, now desperately want.
Two rows ahead, Hallie coughs, and Erica turns to her, asking if she’s okay.
My chest warms, pulse throbbing as I quickly type once more.
Marcus: Go to the bathroom, bring the hotel paperwork you organized so meticulously with you. Give us a reason to get close enough to argue.
Hallie: I can’t believe you’re making me do this.
Marcus: Don’t pretend you don’t want it.
Hallie: I hate you.
Marcus: I’m sure how you feel about me fits into three words, but I’m positive those aren’t it.
I don’t move, hardly breathe, waiting to see if Hallie gets up from her seat.
She waits a minute. Maybe two. Fuck, it could be an hour until, finally, she stands, a handful of papers grasped tight.
I count to ten, and then I’m up and out of my seat, trying not to race to the back of the plane.
I find her tucked around the corner behind the bathrooms, where there’s seating for the cabin crew. Luckily, at this moment, they all seem to be otherwise engaged.
“You have exactly two minutes,” Hallie says as I approach.
Without any time to waste, I pull her into a kiss.
Her lips part beneath mine as I trail my hands up her body, one coming to find its favorite place: pressed against the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair.
I hold steady as she takes from me, her tongue meeting mine hotly, her teeth gently nipping at my lower lip. The want within us is, as ever, insatiable. Twisting our bodies so our hips line up, I let my hands slip down Hallie’s waist and dip into the side of her black overalls. This item of clothing shouldn’t be sexy, but the space it gives me to move and touch this woman has my appreciation growing.
Hallie doesn’t even stiffen beneath me; there isn’t a single ounce of hesitation as my fingertips reach the bare skin of her ass, grazing gently as I move them between her thighs. I kiss her deeply, and her legs open for me. I take it as the okay I need to push the lace of her panties to the side, gliding through the slickness there. She’s soaked.
Our lips finally part, and it’s only then I notice Hallie’s hands have snuck up and under my shirt to press against my skin, nails biting slightly against me. Her eyes are luminous, and I brush a strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear before stepping back.
“I…that was…” Hallie can’t string a sentence together, and my chest swells.
“It was.” I agree with a small smile, not quite having the right words myself.
A delicate cough breaks the moment, but Hallie doesn’t spring away from me the way I would’ve expected. Instead, she steps in toward me again, and I curl my arm back around her waist, even as the flight attendant raises an exasperated brow.
“Sir, ma’am, unless you’re headed to the restroom, would you please return to your seats?”
I smile as charmingly as possible. “Of course, we’ll be on our way right now. Hal, you need to use the restroom, right?”
“Uh. Sure,” Hallie replies, still in a daze as I direct her the few steps it takes to get us to the toilets.
“Do you actually need the restroom?” she asks, rubbing her hands over her face as I move farther away.
“Nah, but it’d be terribly inappropriate for me to go sit next to my brother with you still coating my fingers,” I say. “Would you mind taking these for me? I already have them in my emails.” I pass her the rolled-up papers I’d shoved in my back pocket.
Hallie’s cheeks flame, her eyes narrowing on me when she takes them.
I can’t tell what she’s feeling more intensely right now: turned on or frustrated.
On her, both emotions look like she wants to do me physical harm, so I continue. “You’ll have to forgive me if I take a minute. There’s something I need to attend to.”
I wink at her before glancing down to where I’m painfully hard and pressing up against the denim of my jeans.
“You’re going to jerk off? Right now?” Hallie whispers.
I open the restroom door.
“Sure am. You’re still all over my fingers, and knowing that you’ll be just outside the door trying not to listen intently to the sounds of me getting off? Hallie, it’s what dreams are made of.”
I push another folded piece of paper into her hand—the one confirming a reservation for another hotel room. One that we won’t have to share with either the bride or the groom. One just for us.
“You have some messed-up dreams.”
“Don’t I know it.” I push to close the door, but before I can say another word, her hand flies in. I stop moving abruptly, not wanting to hurt her.
Black-painted nails grip the front of my shirt, and Hallie pulls herself in close. I wonder briefly if she’s about to make me a member of the mile-high club.
Her lips touch my ear as she whispers, “One of those dreams better be getting me off more times than I can count in the next forty-eight hours.”
Her lips brush mine in the most delicate and contradictory of kisses before she steps back.
My eyes lock with hers, moving to look at where she still holds me. I don’t miss the slight tremble of her hands as she pulls away.
My girl is terrified, nervous, and brave.
Currently, I’m only two out of the three.
When I finally head back to my seat, Julian’s holding the paperwork I’d passed to Hallie, sans my single-folded sheet. Once I’m sitting, he passes it back to me with an amused look.
“Hallie said you were full of shit and needed to use the restroom.”
I bite my tongue, enjoying this game of keeping up appearances less and less. “Well, that’s one of the reasons one has to use a restroom.”
Jules just shakes his head with a laugh. “I thought ‘full of shit’ was a perfect description for you.”
I don’t bother with a response, not when I know he’s far from wrong.
Strategic thinking had led to Julian and me sharing a room and Hallie and Erica sharing one in a separate hotel. I’d also booked rooms in each location for the rest of the bridal party members. It’d been easy to do, too easy. I hadn’t counted on Hallie and me wanting to sneak around, let alone needing to. Because that’s what it is now. Time with her is something I need. And so last week, I’d snapped up a final room in the hotel she and Erica are staying in, a room I can’t wait to get her into.
Marcus: Do you think I’d make a good stripper?
I text Hallie even though she sits across from me on the circular-shaped couch we’ve ended up on. There are enough people between us for it to go unnoticed. Our ranks have joined forces again after splitting up after dinner. The groom and groomsmen had hit up a strip show, and the bride and her bridesmaids had done the same.
Hallie: I’m having a great night, thanks. How are you?
Marcus: No, really, do you think I’d make a good stripper?
The music is loud, and the caged go-go dancers make excellent distractions for those who aren’t engaged in drinking and dancing themselves.
I glance over at Hallie. The glow of her phone lights up the small smile that’s gracing her face.
Hallie: I don’t think you’re going to like my answer.
Marcus: You’re telling me I wouldn’t make a hot and sexy stripper?
Hallie: Well…generally speaking, the stripping is being done for an audience or customer, it’s business. It’s not really about YOU.
Marcus: What are you trying to say here, Hal?
I let my gaze follow her for a few moments as she heads to the bar with Katie and Rhianna, Erica’s other bridesmaids. She sways to the music, and I have to look away, grateful when her reply finally comes through.
Hallie: I’m trying to say that if you kept your mouth closed and there weren’t any reflective surfaces in sight…well, then and only then, you might make a good stripper.
Marcus: Wow. Personally, I’d thought my mouth was the selling point.
Hallie: I told you you wouldn’t like my answer. Picture my smiling face with a halo above it, the emoji really doesn’t give the full effect. It also doesn’t come with a raised middle finger.
Marcus: Charming. You’d think you’d be nicer to the man who had you moaning on a plane not that long ago.
Hallie: Shut up.
Marcus: I’d love to shut you up ;)
Hallie: Put your money where your mouth is.
Marcus: I’ll put something else where your mouth is.
Hallie: Disgusting.
Marcus: No, but really… you ready to sneak off soon?
Hallie: I think I could be up for it.
Marcus: Message me when you’re back at your hotel?
Hallie: I will, but you better be worth it.
Marcus: On it. I’m practicing my moves right now. You’ll be calling me Magic Marcus by the end of the night.
Hallie: I’ll remember to bring a bunch of cash then.
Marcus: $5 bills or higher, please.
I put my phone in my pocket, giving my full attention to Jules and Erica, who’ve just taken their seats, and I know then that I’m not going to be able to get away with following Hallie onto the dance floor. I wouldn’t be able to be near her and not look at her, and I’d struggle not to touch her. It’d be even worse if I had to watch her move that closely with anyone else. Not because she can’t or shouldn’t, but because…
It’s a me problem. And so I keep my ass exactly where it is and count the time until I can excuse myself for the night with ease.