Chapter 4
four
. . .
Marco
“Alright, that’s about enough fun for me.” An hour after Emmett and Wick left, Meghan slapped her hands on her thighs, rose from the floor, and stretched. The movement caused the hem of her shirt to ride up, exposing smooth porcelain skin beneath. After having her laying in my lap for hours while I stroked her hair, the sight of her skin had my cock lurching behind my zipper. I stood, subtly adjusting myself. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Oh, um, that’s okay. You don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to. Now get going before you turn back into a pumpkin.”
She rolled her eyes, then bent down to where Callie was cozied up on the couch and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Bye, lady. Call me tomorrow.”
I gestured for her to lead the way, tossing a wink in Callie’s direction.
Meghan walked ahead of me down the hallway, her hips swaying hypnotically in skin-tight jeans that hugged her curves just right. I let my eyes drink their fill. After hours of keeping my hands to myself while she was sprawled over me like a contented kitten, I appreciated the view. She glanced over her shoulder.
“See something you like, Rossi?”
“You know damn well I do, Price. But I’m trying to be a gentleman here. You make it damn difficult to keep my hands to myself.”
Meghan’s laughter echoed through the foyer as we stepped outside into the crisp night air. “Well, I suppose I should thank you for your valiant effort at restraint while we were in my brother’s home.”
I closed the distance between us until we were a mere breath apart. The scent of her perfume enveloped me, a heady mix of jasmine and citrus. I reached out to tuck a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear, my fingertips grazing the soft skin of her cheek. “I’m not sure restraint is all it’s cracked up to be,” I said. “But, I promised Callie I’d spend the night in her spooky old house while Emmett is away on his business trip. So I have to let her go for now.”
Meghan’s pupils dilated as she gazed up at me through long lashes. “Mmm, well aren’t you the chivalrous one.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.” I stroked my thumb over her plump bottom lip. “I have my moments.”
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and it tickled my thumb. The teasing contact sent a jolt to my groin, and I suppressed a groan.
“Shoot,” Meghan said. “I just realized I didn’t drive.”
“No worries. I can give you a ride.”
“Marco, you drank, like, two bottles of wine on your own. I’m not sure it would be safe for you to walk me home at this point.”
“What? I’m fine! See?” I proceeded to walk a straight line with one finger on my nose and the opposite arm outstretched; my very own at-home sobriety test.
Meghan’s snicker turned into a full-blown laugh, and the sound was music to my ears. She held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I believe you. But seriously, I’ll just call an Uber.” She pulled out her phone and swiped at the screen.
“Probably for the best. Wouldn’t want to risk such precious cargo.”
“Mhm. You should get back to Callie before she spots another spider.”
“Text me when you’re home safe, okay?”
“I will. Promise.”
I pulled her into a tight hug. She nestled into my chest for a long moment before reluctantly pulling away and offering me a tender smile. “Goodnight, Marco.”
“Goodnight, gattina.”
I watched her head toward the waiting Uber, aching to reach out and tug her back into my arms. As the car pulled away, I released a heavy sigh and trudged back inside. This was unfamiliar territory to me. I was the good-time guy. Definitely not someone who deserved an ounce of Meghan Price’s time outside of delivering her many, many orgasms.
I sank back into the soft couch cushions as Callie fixed me with a penetrating stare.
“Alright, Rossi. Spill. ”
I widened my eyes and pressed a hand to my chest. “Spill what, exactly? This lovely Malbec? Because that would be a waste and a tragedy.”
Callie shifted on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her and fixing me with a look that said she meant business. “Don’t play coy with me, Marco Rebecca Rossi. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“That’s not my name,” I grumbled, retreating further into the cushions. Perhaps if I burrowed under the blanket, she wouldn’t be able to see straight through me.
She folded her arms and stared me down like a prosecutor. “Care to elaborate on that simmering tension between you and Ms. Price?”
“Ah, you know how it is, Cal. Just a bit of fun, some harmless flirtation. I like to touch. She likes to be touched. No biggie.”
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and narrowed her eyes at me. “Don’t give me that ‘just fun’ shit. I’ve seen the way you look at her. I also know you haven’t seriously dated anyone in over a year. Interesting timing, don’t ya think? And tonight, with Wick here...I thought the sexual tension would set fire to my lovely new upholstery.”
I exhaled heavily, dragging a hand through my hair. Wick. The dickhead was infuriatingly sexy. He’d hovered around Meghan like a brooding, overprotective shadow when he came back from basketball, all sweaty and delicious looking. Every time he glanced in my direction, I couldn’t tell if he wanted to punch me or fuck me. Either way, it was obvious that my presence and my closeness to Meghan had put him on edge. I was on edge, too. Because Callie was right. The sexual tension between the three of us was intense.
“So, dish. What’s the story? ”
The wine swirling in my glass was suddenly fascinating. “Guess I’ve always kind of been into her. Like, for example, during freshman year.”
Callie’s eyes widened. “Freshman year? But we hated Meghan freshman year!”
“No, you hated Meghan freshman year, and I was the supportive best friend, maintaining appropriate boundaries, but damn…”
“You’re telling me that you had a thing for Meghan Price freshman year and I had no idea?”
“Yep. You also had no idea that I’ve been banging her for the last year.”
She let out an un-lady-like snort. “Well, I did learn about that part recently.”
“She told you?”
“Mhm.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What else did she say?”
“I don’t know. Stuff.”
“Tell me,” I said.
“No. That’s between me and Meghan.”
“Yeah, but you’re my best friend and I want to know what she said.”
“She’s about to be my family , Marco. I’m not going to betray her trust.”
“Um, hello? I, too, am your family, am I not? Or have you forgotten who took you in when Hugh kicked you out on your ass?”
“Ouch. Low blow. ”
“Callie Elizabeth Winters, if you do not tell me what she said, I will not spend the night, and the spiders will undoubtedly eat you.”
“Real mature, Marco. And that’s not my name.”
I took a long sip of my wine, savoring the rich, velvety flavor as it coated my tongue. Anything to avoid meeting her probing gaze. My thoughts veered back to Meghan, to the way her eyes glittered when she laughed at one of my corny-ass jokes. The way her touch set my skin on fire. The way my heart thudded in my chest when I woke with her limbs entwined with mine.
And yet, there was a part of me that held back.
Callie’s expression softened. She reached out, placing a comforting hand on my knee. “Oh, Marco. I know that look. You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”
I paused, memories flooding my mind. The gala at the library. The night everything changed.
“ That there,” I said, tilting my head in the direction of the man with the receding hairline and flashy Rolex, “is Steven Peppercorn the third. His young wife, Mary, was promised to him when she was barely out of high school. Word on the street is he bought her a diamond necklace big enough to be its own landmass for their wedding anniversary.” I chuckled as Callie’s eyes widened in amusement.
Her gaze swept the room before landing on a woman wearing a sequined dress garish jewelry. “Bernadette Timbleton,” she declared. “She’s the long-lost relative who just inherited a small fortune from some great-uncle she never knew existed. Now she’s desperately trying to fit in with this crowd, but her nouveau riche vibe is like waving a neon sign. ”
Laughter bubbled up between us as we continued our playful commentary on the dance floor guests. I spun Callie out and back into my arms.
A throat clearing behind Callie broke into the hilarity. She turned mid-giggle, and I followed her gaze to find icy blue eyes staring back at us.
“May I cut in?” Emmett asked.
I made a graceful retreat and sauntered off the dancefloor. The ballroom was a sea of glittering gowns and sharp tuxedos, the air thick with perfume and champagne. I stood nursing a glass of scotch and watching Callie dance with six feet of sexy-as-sin billionaire.
And then I saw her. Meghan Price, looking stunning in an elegant gold dress. She was laughing at something the man standing next to her had said, her head thrown back in abandon. It was the first time I’d see her since college. She’d always been beautiful, but there was something about the contrast between her poised exterior and her boisterous laughter that made her fucking breathtaking.
Before I could stop myself, I was moving towards her, weaving through the throng of bodies like a man possessed. She turned just as I reached her, mouth opening in surprise. “Marco Rossi, as I live and breathe.”
“Ms. Price. It’s been a while.”
“ It has.”
“You’ve been quite busy. I’m always seeing your name splashed across some headline.”
Meghan’s lips tightened, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“Yes, and Callie informs me you’re still fucking everything that walks. ”
“You must have misheard. I’m certain she said I fuck people until they can’t walk.”
She rolled her eyes, but I caught the hint of a blush staining her cheeks. I held out my hand, my heart hammering. “Dance with me?”
For a moment, she hesitated. But then she smiled, slipping her hand into mine. “Sure, why not?”
I pulled her close, my arm snaking around her waist as we fell into the easy rhythm of the music. She fit perfectly against me.
“ You know, after all the hell you raised in college, I was worried someone might have dropped a house on you by now.”
“Oh, please. We were kids, and you were no angel, either.”
“We’re not kids now.”
“No, we’re not.”
“Still, it’s fun to be a little reckless sometimes.”
“It can be.”
We danced in silence for a few moments. And then, before I could think better of it, I leaned in close, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Let’s get out of here.”
She pulled back, her eyes searching mine. “And go where?”
I shrugged. “Anywhere.”
She paused, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip. Finally, a mischievous glint sparked in her eyes and she nodded. “Lead the way.”
We stole out of the ballroom, snickering like teenagers while we hurried through the winding corridors of the library. I pulled her into an alcove, pressing her against the wall as I captured her lips.
She gave a muffled moan, her fingers tangling in my hair as she pulled me closer. I lost myself in the taste of her, in the press of her body against mine, until the need for air forced us apart. “Marco,” she breathed. “Take me home.”
I needed no further encouragement. We stumbled out of the library and into her awaiting town car, our hands roaming over each other’s bodies as the city lights streaked by outside the window.
By the time we reached her penthouse, we were both panting, our clothes disheveled and our hair mussed. We tumbled through the door, mouths fused together as we shed our clothes in a frenzied rush.
And then I was inside her, moving with a desperate urgency that bordered on feral. She clung to me, her nails raking down my back as she urged me on, faster, harder, deeper.
We came together in a blinding rush of pleasure, our cries mingling in the still air of her bedroom. And as I collapsed onto the mattress beside her, something in my world shifted. Sleeping with Meghan Price was a lot more reckless than I anticipated.
“Hey.” The sound of Callie’s voice startled me back to the present. “You zoned out on me.”
I blinked, shaking my head to clear the cobwebs. “Sorry. Just thinking about some stuff.”
She studied me, head tilted to one side. “So, how does Wick fit into this whole thing?”
“The morning after the library gala?” Callie’s nod told me Meghan had filled her in. “Wick showed up. And, let’s just say he’s not my biggest fan. Probably sees me as a threat to whatever claim he thinks he has on Meghan.”
I remembered the look on his face when he saw me there, the way his eyes had narrowed with suspicion and something that looked a lot like jealousy.
And the thing was, I got it. If I was in his shoes and I saw some random guy walking out of Meghan’s bedroom looking as if he’d just had the time of his life, I probably would’ve reacted the same way.
But that didn’t make it easier to stomach. Especially not when I saw the way Meghan looked at him, the way her whole face lit up when he walked into the room. It made me wonder if I ever had a chance with her at all.
“Marco, listen to me.” Callie’s voice was gentle but firm, her fingers pressing my arm to get my attention. “Meghan cares about you. I know she does. But you have to be willing to fight for her. To show her that you’re in this for the long haul, not just a quick fling.”
I swallowed, my throat suddenly tight. “But what if...what if she doesn’t want me to fight for her? What if she’s already made her choice, and it’s not me?”
I rubbed a hand over my face, pushing away the thought of losing Meghan before I’d even really had her. “We’ve been dancing around this thing between us for months now. Years, if I’m being honest. But every time we get close to taking that next step, I just freeze up. I’m terrified by the thought of letting her see the real me.”
Callie shifted closer, leaning her head on my shoulder. “She wouldn’t be spending all this time with you if she didn’t care about the real you.”
She was right, but the doubts still clawed at the edges of my mind. “What if I let her in and she doesn’t like what she finds? What if I’m not enough for her? ”
Callie nestled closer. “You are enough. You’ve always been enough. And if Meghan can’t see that, then she’s not the right person for you.”
Her soothing words washed over me. I rested my head on hers, letting her comfort seep into my bones.
Still, it wasn’t enough to shake my worries.
“I just…I think I need to get some things settled before I try anything.”
“What things?”
“Work stuff mostly. My dad’s been on my case lately about taking on more responsibility at the agency. Wants me to ‘step up and be a leader,’ whatever the hell that means.”
Callie nodded. “I get it. It’s a lot of pressure, trying to live up to your family’s expectations.”
“That’s the thing, though. I’m not sure I even want to live up to their expectations.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them, the truth I’d been grappling with for months finally making its way to the surface. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love what I do. The creativity, the challenge of crafting the perfect campaign. But the way my dad runs things, it’s so old-school, you know? All about the bottom line, never taking risks or pushing boundaries. I want to do things differently. Shake things up, make a real impact. But every time I try to bring up new ideas, he just shuts me down. Says I’m too young, too impulsive. That I need to ‘learn the ropes’ before I start making waves.”
“That’s frustrating. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not just work, though. It’s...everything, I guess. My whole life, I’ve been trying to fit into this mold that everyone else has created for me. The charming, carefree playboy who always has a witty one-liner and a different girl on his arm every week.” I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. “But that’s not who I am, Cal. Not really.”
Callie’s thumb rubbed circles on my knee. “I’ve always known there was more to you than that. But you don’t have to keep playing that role if it’s not making you happy.”
“Easier said than done, right? I mean, how do you just stop being who everyone thinks you are? How do you break free from all those expectations and start living life on your own terms?”
“By being brave enough to take that first step. By trusting in yourself and the people who truly care about you. The ones who will love you no matter what, even if you’re not the person they thought you were.”
Her words hit me like a lightning bolt. She was right. I’d spent so long hiding behind this carefully crafted persona, terrified of letting anyone see the real me. The vulnerable, imperfect, sometimes insecure man beneath the well-groomed facade.
It was time to start being brave. To take that leap of faith and trust that the people who mattered most would catch me.
“I’ll think about it, okay?” I promised. “But for now, can we just talk about something else? I think I need a break from all this heavy emotional shit.”
“Of course. What do you want to talk about instead? The latest gossip from Price Industries? Or that hot new bartender at The Roxy?”
I grinned. “How about both? I have a feeling you’ve got some juicy stories to share.”
But even as we lapsed into our familiar banter, I couldn’t entirely brush off this nagging sense that the world was about to spin on its axis. The impending decisions—my career, my family’s expectations, and most crucially, the situation with Meghan—had the potential to turn my life upside down.
The thought of putting my heart on the line rattled me. The temptation was real—to slide back into my well-worn playboy image, the safe and comfortable lie. But deep down, I understood that I couldn’t keep up that charade indefinitely.
My only hope was that I could gather the strength sooner rather than later. Before a steadfast guy like Wick snatched Meghan away for good. That mental image smacked me in the chest—a brutal reminder of everything at stake if I didn’t step up and fight for what I wanted.