Chapter Sixty-One
Marcus
M y father was in customer meetings the day I returned to the office from our trip to Orlando. It was nice to come back from a long weekend and not have the added stress of his presence. Even now, as I sit in our conference room, waiting for our weekly meeting, I don’t feel my usual anxiety. It’s an odd, concerning, unfamiliar feeling. I’m on my way to being married; he’ll hand over the business and I can be free of his rule.
Then there’s the other side of me, that feels calm because of Gigi. I tried to tell myself it’s just the fact that I got laid, but I know it’s bigger than that. It’s her being in my home, in my bed, the weekend we shared. She’s my opposite in so many ways, yet we’ve come together so easily. Always have. And now that she’s wearing that ring, now that I’ve been inside her, that I’ve held her throughout the night, I realize she’s been inching her way inside of me for years. I just didn’t allow myself to see it. All I need to figure out is how to approach changing the terms of our agreement. Shit, throw the entire agreement out the window and do this for real. My only worry is, how do I approach it without the risk of losing her completely if she doesn’t feel the same way?
“You’re smiling.” I startle at my father’s voice.
“Oh, um, just looking over some numbers. We had a good week last week.”
“You asked Gigi to marry you.”
“I did. She said yes. It was a good weekend.”
“You didn’t talk to me first. While your mother was over the moon, I wish we would have discussed it.”
“I didn’t realize I had to discuss my choice of partner with you.”
“She’s difficult, Marcus.”
“She’s not afraid to speak her mind. I like that about her.”
“You might not feel that way ten years down the road.”
I look in his eyes, challenging him. “Dad, you aren’t going to sway me here, so you can save your words. I love her. She’s good for me.”
He nods. “I just hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“I’m fully aware, and I couldn’t be happier.”
The week went by quickly, with meetings and getting caught up. It always amazes me how much piles up when I’m off for three days. Our group chat with our crew has been a series of non stop messages of congratulations, planning, and pictures over the past few days. I had to mute it Thursday afternoon to be able to focus on work. After I settled in at home that evening, I opened it to see what I had missed. The girls, Jax, and Linc decided we needed to celebrate the engagement, so Audrey suggested Melrose, one of our favorite clubs, and everyone agreed without my input that we would go this evening. I don’t usually like going out Saturday nights, but by the time I got to the messages, Jax’s mom was already enlisted as a babysitter for the kids, so I couldn’t say no.
I hear Gigi’s heels on the stairs as I slip on my loafers. She appears in the doorway of my bedroom, wearing a green silk tank top with a black leather skirt. Her curls and her tits bounce as she comes to a stop.
“You look nice, princess.” I step toward her, running my finger along the slope of her breast, her nipple hardening as I glide over it. “Turn around for me.”
She turns, and I place a hand at her hip and the other at the top of her back, pushing forward until she’s bent over in front of me. She glances back over her shoulder.
“We don’t have time for this, prince.”
“Just checking how short this skirt is. Planning for later.” I take note of how easy it would be to slide it up over her hips. I run my hand up the inside of her thigh.
“Princess.”
“Yes, Charming?”
“Did you forget your rule?”
“We’re going out and this skirt is short! I need underwear on!”
“One of us is going to take these off; you choose the method.” I remove my hands from her body and step back, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, waiting.
She begins to stand.
“Stay bent over while you take them off. Show me what I get to play with when we get home.”
She smiles before lifting her skirt and sliding her fingers into the band at the top of her thong, dragging it down over her ass and letting it fall around her heels.
“Give them to me.”
She reaches down, stepping out of the lace, and hands the thong to me. I put it in my pocket.
“I better get those back.”
“I make no promises.”
We’re standing at the bar, drinks in our hands, when Melonie declares she wants to make a toast to “the happy couple”.
“To Marcus and Gigi, may your marriage be easier to fake than an orgasm.” We all raise our glasses, well, everyone except for Linc, who is frozen in place with an offended expression.
“What do you know about faking an orgasm?”
“Don’t worry, Daddy, there’s no faking with you.” She kisses his cheek.
He relaxes a bit. “Damn right.” He takes a sip of his beer.
“That’s more than I needed to know this evening.”
Melonie laughs. “Sorry, Marcus.”
“It’s so fun to be out without lugging around a diaper bag,” Audrey says over the sugar-coated rim of her lemon drop.
“Right? It feels like visiting a past life.”
As the women chat, I position myself behind Gigi, facing the group. The thought of what she’s wearing—or not wearing—has had me on edge since we left the house. Subtly shifting closer to the bar, I let my fingertips brush the back of her thigh. She stiffens, her posture rigid as she stares straight ahead, but doesn’t move away.
Maintaining my focus on the conversation, I let my hand slide higher, testing her reaction. When I gently slip a finger inside her, she inhales sharply, masking the sound with a quick cough. She’s already wet, and I take my time, moving deliberately. Gigi slaps a hand against the bar to steady herself, her voice unwavering as she continues talking to our friends.
“You good, G?” Melonie asks.
Gigi slams a fist against her chest. “Just went down the wrong pipe.”
“Well, don’t choke on it. Slow down.”
I laugh, removing my finger. “Yeah, princess, don’t choke on it.” She whips her head around with eyes narrowed at me. I smile over the rim of my glass.
She redirects her attention back to the group. “Audrey, Melonie, finish your drinks. We’re dancing.”
The three women finish their drinks in a shot-like fashion, all making faces as they place their glasses on the bar top.
Gigi leans toward me. “We’ll be back, prince. And maybe when I get back, you’ll behave.”