8. Marcie
8
MARCIE
K atie bounced into the room, absorbing all the attention as usual, and I could relax. I tried to get my traitorous body under control. Only it wasn’t a fan, and my eyes kept straying to the gorgeousness of the big guy in the corner.
“Katie, let me introduce everyone before I talk with Marcie and Glenn.” Katie’s dad said, pointing out people as he said their names. “You guys met Lucia last night, Scott, her brother, and that’s Quinn. Then there’s Ewen, Slone, Cameron, and Priest.”
Conrad patted the big guy on the shoulders as he introduced him. “You know Hayden Marin.”
With his name clasped firmly in its grasp, the fantasy spun out of control. Visions of being taken by the man, Hayden , in whatever position he manhandled me into, which would look ridiculous. He was a foot taller than me, but I didn’t care. My body didn’t care.
Especially not after hearing him speak. Orgasmic. It was the only word that came to mind. A low, sexy rumble. I imagined how a motorcycle felt between your legs—a rumbling roar of vibrations that lit you up inside and out.
In my mind, the fantasy version of Hayden held me down and took me hard and fast while saying the dirtiest, filthiest things like all the book boyfriends I dreamed about.
Face flushed. Heart racing. Oh, Jesus! Wetness soaked my panties. And the vivid imagery continued, assaulting my brain. Pushed and pushed closer to the edge until I was on the verge of getting off.
Fully clothed.
Without being touched.
In a room full of people.
Gasping, my hand flew to my mouth, as my walls fluttered. The sound covered by Jackson yelling, “The fuck you will.”
While everyone was distracted with Hayden and Jackson going after each other, I raced from the room, heading for the bathroom I noticed in the hall. Behind me, yelling continued, and I glanced over my shoulder as Hayden careened into the wall with Jackson standing over him.
“Oompf.”
Air rushed from me as I collided with a wall of… man.
Strong hands wrapped around my upper arms, keeping me from bouncing off him. Following his… oh my, forearm porn… to his chest and face, I got lost. Bluish-green eyes looked down at me from another Holt-looking face, complete with a chiseled jaw and a barely-there beard.
“Holy smokes, Gonzo. How many of them are there?”
“Sorry, sweetness, I didn’t catch that.”
Oh, suck a duck!