Chapter 21
Xavier
My feet had carried me across town in a flash. I was already standing on Marcus’s front porch, pounding on his door in the dark. He was home. He had to be. I would accept nothing else. And he was going to get a piece of my fucking mind.
The door swung open so fast I nearly stumbled forward.
Marcus stood there in nothing but a pair of low-slung sweatpants, his hair disheveled like he’d been running his hands through it.
His eyes were bloodshot, dark circles underneath them that matched my own.
He looked like hell, and some vindictive part of me was glad.
“Xavier,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. “I—”
“Don’t,” I snapped, jabbing my finger into his bare chest. “Don’t you dare say another fucking word until I’m done.”
He closed his mouth, his jaw working as he stepped back to let me inside. I stormed past him into the living room, the same living room where we’d made love just days ago. The memory made my chest ache, but I shoved it down, letting my anger take center stage.
“Do you have any idea how humiliating that was?” I demanded, whirling to face him. “Having you search through my things like I was some common criminal? In front of Lucas and Beau?”
“Xavier, I’m so sorry—”
“I said don’t talk!” My voice cracked, and I hated how it betrayed the hurt beneath my fury.
“You didn’t just suspect me of stealing.
You made me feel like everything between us was a lie.
Like maybe you’d only been with me to keep tabs on the investigation.
Like I was just some… some suspect you were playing. ”
“No,” Marcus said firmly, taking a step toward me. “That’s not—”
“I came to this godforsaken town as a favor to my best friend,” I continued, my hands shaking now.
“I’ve done nothing but try to make their wedding perfect.
I’ve been nice to people who clearly hate me.
I’ve eaten terrible diner food and pretended to enjoy it.
And I—” I stopped, my throat closing up.
“I let myself care about you. I let you in, Marcus.”
His face crumpled, pain flashing across his features. “I know. God, Xavier, I know I fucked up.”
“You think?” I laughed bitterly. “Dolly found her keys behind the counter. They’d been there the whole time. But you didn’t even consider that, did you? You just assumed the worst about me without even asking.”
“You’re right,” he said quietly. “I did. And there’s no excuse for that.”
I wanted to stay angry. Wanted to yell at him some more, to make him feel even a fraction of the hurt I’d been carrying for days. But looking at him now… this strong, capable man who looked absolutely broken… I felt my resolve wavering.
“Lucas said you were scared,” I said, my voice softer now. “That you wanted a reason to push me away.”
Marcus looked down at his bare feet, his shoulders hunched. “Maybe I did. Maybe some part of me thought if I could prove you were bad for me, it would hurt less when you left.”
“So, you decided to hurt me first?”
“I didn’t decide anything,” he said, finally meeting my eyes. “I just... I panicked. All the evidence pointed to you, and instead of trusting what I knew about you and what I felt… I let my fear win.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling cold despite the warmth of his house. “You really hurt me, Marcus.”
“I know.” He took another step closer, close enough that I could see the tears gathering in his eyes. “And I will spend however long it takes making it up to you, if you’ll let me. But Xavier, I need you to know that what we had… what we have, it was never a lie. Not for one second.”
“Then why?” I asked, my own voice breaking now. “Why was it so easy for you to believe I was guilty?”
He was quiet for a long moment, and I watched him struggle to find the words. When he finally spoke, his voice was raw with emotion.
“Because I’ve spent my whole life believing I don’t deserve good things,” he admitted.
“That if something feels too perfect, it must be a trick. And you, Xavier, you’re so far out of my league it’s not even funny.
You’re smart and successful and gorgeous, and you could have anyone.
So, when someone suggested you might not be who I thought you were, part of me believed it.
Because it made more sense than you actually wanting to be with someone like me. ”
His words hit me like a physical blow. All this time, I’d thought Marcus was just being a coward, protecting his reputation and his job. I hadn’t realized he was protecting his heart.
“You’re an idiot,” I said, but there was no heat in it anymore.
“I know.”
“A complete and total idiot.”
“I know that too.”
I stared at him, at this man who’d helped me feel more like myself than I had in years. Who’d held me like I was precious. Who’d been brave enough to start accepting who he really was, even though it terrified him.
And I realized I had a choice. I could hold on to my anger, could make him suffer the way I’d suffered.
It would be justified. I could go home and leave him in Sagebrush, letting him suffer for however long it took him to forget me.
Or I could do what Lucas had done for Beau. I could give him a second chance.
“I’m still mad at you,” I said finally.
“You should be.”
“And I’m not going to just forget this happened.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
I took a deep breath, my hands still trembling. “But I miss you too.”
Hope flickered across Marcus’s face, tentative and fragile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I admitted, and saying it out loud made my chest feel lighter. “I’ve been miserable without you. Which is really inconvenient, because I was planning to stay angry for at least another week at least.”
A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “I can wait a week if you need me to.”
“Shut up,” I said, but I was moving toward him now, closing the distance between us. “Just... shut up and kiss me you fucking idiot.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Marcus closed the distance between us in two strides, his hands cupping my face as his lips crashed against mine.
The kiss was desperate, hungry, full of all the longing and regret of the past four days.
I melted into it, my anger dissolving into something hotter, more urgent.
My hands found his bare chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath my palms. He backed me up against the wall, his body pressing against mine in a way that made my knees weak. I’d forgotten how good this felt, how right.
“Marcus,” I whined, pulling at his neck.
He knew exactly what I needed. Before I knew it, he’d lifted me off my feet, my back still pressed to the wall as my legs wrapped around his waist. Already I could feel his thick cock straining against those sweatpants, grinding against my ass. I needed him. I needed him now.
“Fuck me,” I commanded. “Right now.”
His eyes darkened at my words, and I felt a growl rumble through his chest. “Are you sure?” he asked, even as his hands gripped my thighs tighter.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” I breathed against his lips. “I need you, Marcus. Right fucking now.”
That was all the permission he needed. He carried me down the hallway to his bedroom, his mouth never leaving mine. When we reached the bed, he laid me down with surprising gentleness given the urgency thrumming between us.
“I need to prep you,” he said, already reaching for the nightstand drawer. “Don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then hurry,” I demanded, working at my jeans. “Because if you don’t fuck me in the next five minutes, I’m going to lose my mind.”
He pulled out lube and worked quickly, helping me strip off my clothes with efficient movements. When I was finally naked beneath him, he paused, his eyes roaming over my body like he was trying to memorize every inch.
“Goddamn you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers already slick as they found my entrance.
I gasped as he pushed one finger inside, then another, stretching me with practiced ease. He knew my body now, knew exactly how to work me open, and I was panting within seconds.
“More,” I begged, trying to push down on his fingers. “Marcus, please.”
“Soon,” he said, but I could hear the strain in his voice. His cock was tenting his sweatpants obscenely, and I knew he was just as desperate as I was.
When he finally added a third finger, I nearly came apart. The stretch was perfect, the fullness making me ache for more. I reached down his sweatpants, gripping his thick cock so that he moaned my name.
“Fuck Xavier,” he groaned.
“Fuck me now,” I commanded. “I can’t wait any longer.”
He positioned himself between my legs, rolling a condom on as fast as he could. I felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance. Our eyes met, and I saw everything I felt reflected back at me. Want. Need. Forgiveness. Hope.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered one more time.
“I know,” I replied, pulling him down for a kiss. “Now fuck me like you mean it.”
He pushed inside in one smooth thrust, and I cried out at the perfect stretch of him filling me completely. He stilled, giving me a moment to adjust, his forehead pressed against mine as we both trembled.
“Don’t stop,” I urged, wrapping my legs around his waist. “Please, Marcus.”
He started to thrust, slow and deep at first, then faster as we both chased the pleasure building between us.
Every stroke hit that perfect spot inside me, sending electricity shooting up my spine.
I clawed at his back, easily leaving marks, but I didn’t care.
I needed him closer, needed to feel every inch of him throbbing inside me.
“Xavier,” he groaned, his pace becoming erratic. “I’m close. So fucking close.”
“Me too,” I gasped, reaching between us to stroke myself. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
A few more thrusts and I was cumming hard, spilling between us with a cry that was probably too loud. The feeling of me clenching around him pushed Marcus over the edge too, and he buried his face in my neck as he came with a guttural moan.
We stayed like that for a long moment, both of us shaking and breathless. Marcus pressed soft kisses to my neck, my jaw, my lips, and I felt tears prick at my eyes. Not from sadness, but from the overwhelming relief of having this back. Of having him back.
“I really am sorry,” he murmured against my skin. “For everything.”
“I know you are,” I said, running my fingers through his hair. “And we’re going to be okay. We just... we need to communicate better. Trust each other more.”
He nodded, carefully pulling out and disposing of the condom before gathering me into his arms. I went willingly, tucking myself against his chest and listening to the steady thud of his heart.
“I only have three more days here,” I said quietly. “The wedding is this weekend.”
His arms tightened around me. “I know.”
“What happens after that?”
He was quiet for a long moment, his hand stroking up and down my spine. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I don’t want this to end, Xavier. I don’t want us to end.”
My chest was suddenly so tight I could barely breathe. “I don’t want that either.”
“Then we’ll figure it out,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Together.”
I closed my eyes, letting myself believe it could be that simple. That maybe, despite everything, we could make this work somehow. The details could wait. For now, I was exactly where I wanted to be.
In Marcus’s arms, finally home.