22. Lauren
22
Lauren
“No.”
Standing akimbo, I throw a hard scowl at Marcus. “You didn’t even think about it.”
He turns the mug to his lips, and when he’s done drinking, he mumbles, “I don’t need to. I’m not teaching you mixed martial arts.”
“It’s only the basics. Come on.” I grab his free hand, pulling it. “Please.”
Marcus looks down to where our hands are joined. There’s something in his expression that makes me quickly release him and rub my thigh. “One lesson, and I’ll never bother you again.”
His head lifts. “Is that a promise?”
“I swear on my stuffed animals,” I vow, raising my right hand.
Marcus grins. “I’m going to need that in writing and witnessed by a Justice of the Peace,” he jokes.
“Is that a yes?”
He nods. “Yeah, after I get that in writing.”
Laughing, I punch his arm, and he soon joins in. In this moment, it feels like things are back to normal and I have my old friend back .
“I have a software issue to handle at 11, so we only have an hour,” he advises.
“Good enough for me.”
“Which means we should be going right now. You’ll be skipping breakfast,” he points out.
I gasp, clutching my chest. “However will I survive?”
“Don’t complain when those worms are dancing in your stomach, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Are you going to lead the way or keep yapping about worms and what-not?” I ask humorously, pointing toward the exit.
He makes a face at me that is so juvenile, it makes me laugh. Marcus can be such a goofball sometimes, which I appreciate. I love that he doesn’t take himself seriously. I also love that, despite that quality, he can turn deadly in the blink of an eye if needs be.
As he leads the way up the flight of stairs, my eyes admire his backside in those sweatpants, and I realize we’ll never go back to normal. I’ll never get my friend back. Things have completely changed now that I know he’s attracted to me.
We enter a small room with glass walls that gives me a view of the mountains, one I can’t deny looks quite fantastic. There’s gym equipment resting everywhere, but unlike the other rooms in this house, there’s no sign of luxury. It feels down-to-earth, more like the Marcus I’ve always known.
My cell phone vibrates as I close the door behind me. Seeing the reminder text from Dr. Lewis triggers a deep, stomach-swelling sigh. So much has happened that I’d totally forgotten about the procedure and right now, I don’t want to think about it. Closing out our chat, I drop the phone on a nearby bench.
“Let’s get those muscles warmed up,” Marcus says, gripping the tail end of his long-sleeved shirt and hauling it over his head. My eyes linger on the tank top covering his torso until his face comes back into view, then I shift my gaze as he points to the carpet in the center of the room.
For the next ten minutes, we do the warm-ups, then Marcus starts with some basic punches. “Fists closed, chin down, eyes up,” he instructs me.
I take my stance and do exactly that.
“If you’re in trouble, you’d want to make sure you’re firing straight, got it?” He punches at my chest in rapid movements.
I nod.
“There are several places on the body you can target,” he goes on, touching his face, running his hand over his torso. I wet my lips.
He demonstrates another round of rapid-fire punches then gestures to me. “Your turn. One two—”
Marcus’ head jerks back as my right arm prematurely strikes out, but he’s not quick enough. He sucks in a breath as my fist pounds right above his left eye.
“Oh my God!” Rushing forward, I hold his chin while inspecting the injured spot. It’s already getting red. “I’m so sorry, Marcus.”
“It’s fine,” he mumbles.
“No, it’s already swelling. Do you have a medicine cabinet somewhere? I could—”
“Lauren.” He takes my hands, staring right into my face. “I said it’s fine. Let’s get back to work.”
There are no blunders this time as we repeat the techniques until I’m comfortable with distributing my weight behind each blow. He then moves on to teaching me how to cover an attacking blow.
“Avoid pulling your head back,” he cautions. “It’s the perfect chance for your attacker to take you out.”
“Got it.”
“Most importantly, Lauren, never close your eyes.”
I don’t know what it is about those words that sends a chill up my spine. It’s probably the reminder of why I’m here in this moment, in this location. There are people trying to kill me. Learning how to punch, kick, and block won’t match up to a gun, but at least I’ll have a fighting chance if there are fists involved. That’s all I’ve ever needed: a fighting chance.
Twenty minutes later, Marcus claps his hands. “I think that’s enough. All you need to do is practice.”
“What? No, we’re not done,” I protest. “How about the takedown?”
“The what?”
“Back in the storeroom, I saw how you took that guy out. I want to learn how to do that.”
Marcus scoffs. “You want to bite off a little more than you can chew right now. How about you focus on the basics, and I’ll teach you another level when it’s time?”
“Or you can teach me now.” I shrug. “I’m good at retaining things, you know.”
“I know.”
“Besides,” I point at the clock on the wall, “we still have twenty-eight minutes.”
He gives me a long, unreadable stare then sighs. “I hate that it’s hard to say not to you.”
I grin.
Marcus adjusts my body to directly face him. “You can use the forward momentum of someone’s attack against him, especially if he’s bigger than you. Start with leaning away from the attack.”
Warmth spreads across my chest as he presses his hand right there, gently prompting me to lean back .
“Good. Now, as he’s punching, you’re going to grab his arm or shirt, pulling him toward you then down. While you’re pulling him down, use your leg to sweep him off his feet and onto his back. Got it?”
I nod.
“Now, the demonstration, Miss Retainer ,” he says mockingly. “You’re going to find it’s not as easy as it sounds.”
I smirk back at him until I realize how right he was. It’s certainly harder than it looks. About a dozen tries later, a dozen times I’m forced to stare up at the wooden beams overhead after being swept off my feet and onto my back, I’m just about ready to give up.
“Why do I feel like you’re purposely making it hard for me?” I ask, panting.
Marcus drops down on the carpet beside me, panting softly too. “Do you think an attacker would go easy on you?”
“No, but—”
“Suck it up.” He pats my thigh. “Let’s go.”
We both rise, but as Marcus turns to re-assume his position, I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him down. He falls with an ‘ Oof! ’ and I immediately move over him, my hands on his chest.
Marcus laughs. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Getting a point by any means necessary,” I explain, grinning back.
“Cheater!” he yells, reaching up to tickle me.
Releasing him, I fall back on the carpet, but he keeps going, prodding my sides and my belly, all sensitive areas that soon have me wiggling like crazy to get away from him. I roll, but he pulls me back. My legs flail, but he dodges the attack and settles between them, tickling me even harder.
“Marcus, stop!” I shriek, my body bucking.
Then, I stop.
He stops too .
For a moment, we don’t move, don’t breathe. A spark of desire goes off in my stomach, settling in my center, leaving an ache that makes me just want to… move.
So, I do.
“Jesus, Lauren,” Marcus groans as I rock my hips. He pulls himself off me and lands backward on his hands. He’s staring at me like I’m growing a second head. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
I stare at him, panting softly. It’s hard to apologize for something I’m not sorry for, especially when I know it’s not wrong. Marcus got hard for me. He’s still hard, so what’s wrong with wanting to feel him for a hot minute? We’re both adults, aren’t we?
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” he says.
“Don’t I?” I cock my head. “I know everything about you, Marcus.”
Something about my comment frustrates him. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose this. Us ,” he emphasizes.
“What makes you think that would ever happen?”
His cell phone suddenly rings, cutting into the moment. “You already know the answer,” he says, reaching for the phone on the bench. A cloud forms over his face as he stares at the screen. “I need to take this. We’ve done enough for today, anyway.”
He goes off before I can reply.
I wouldn’t mind falling over that edge with him, even just once.
Groaning, I slide my hand between my thighs. It’s aching. Pulsing . Hungry for the only man I’ve ever wanted.
The only man I want.
I saw the lust on his face, and I know he’s lingering on the edge the same as I am. Would it be so wrong if we fall over together, even once?
Maybe. I also saw conflict there in his eyes, and I heard his comment about not wanting to lose me. He might be right; having sex could change everything.
With a disappointing sigh, I get off my butt and head back to my room. I should just focus on getting out of this ordeal so I can start dating again. Who knows, I just might find someone who sets my body on fire like Marcus does.
But as I step into the shower stall, I know it won’t be that easy. Unless someone hits me with a neuralyzer blast, I won’t forget how Marcus felt between my legs.
I won’t stop thinking about it.
I won’t stop aching to have him inside me.
Warm water hits the top of my head as I step under the heavy flow. I sweep the hair from my face. I’m horny and not thinking straight, which is the only reason I’m now wondering how bad it could be.
Not the sex. I get the feeling Marcus might be phenomenal in bed. I’ve seen women lose their shit when he doesn’t call them back.
I mean, how bad would it be to surrender to these urges? What if I can guard my heart? Friends with benefits, couldn’t it work?
As I lather myself, I can’t help picturing his expression if I ever mentioned this to him. He’d probably be shocked, but I know Marcus. He’d be thinking about it, too. He’d be thinking of kissing me. Nibbling my neck. Sucking my breasts.
I pinch my nipples.
Oh, God.
The fantasy lights a fire inside me. My slippery fingers slide downward, stroking my aching center. It feels so fucking good. Marcus’ fingers would feel even better. They’re much thicker, longer.
Like his cock .
“Oh,” I gasp.
With one hand braced against the tiled wall, thighs spread, water cascading down my back, I slip a finger inside me, groaning, not only from the pleasurable sensation, but the image of Marcus’ finger replacing mine. Eyes darken with lust as he fills me, moving slow but getting deep, touching sensitive spots that make my hand curl into a tight fist.
“God, yes, Marcus. Don’t stop. Don’t… oh, fuck…”
I rock my hips as his strokes quicken, determination filling his eyes, his teeth clenched down on his lower lip. He wants me to come. I need to come . God, it’s been way too long —
A sudden thump makes me freeze. I turn the shower off then listen. Silence. I’m sure I heard a sound.
Wrapping the towel around me, I make my way to the bedroom then stop abruptly, gaping at my phone on the dresser.
The phone I’d left in the gym earlier.