Chapter 18
eighteen
. . .
Wick
“Well, this is…different.”
Marco and I were sitting in my condo, drinking beer. Meghan made up some dumb fucking excuse to leave us here. A transparent attempt to force us into bonding .
I drummed my fingers against the glass bottle. This was uncharted territory—the two of us, alone, without Meghan to act as a buffer. No soft curves and sweet smiles to soothe the jagged edges of our clashing personalities.
“Are you uncomfortable around me, Wick?”
“No, Marco. I’m not fucking uncomfortable around you. I just don’t think we’ve ever been alone together without things getting…out of hand.”
“Out of hand?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I really don’t.”
I scrutinized him as he sat across from me, taking in the sharp angles of his face, the wicked slant of those full lips. Lips that had been wrapped around my cock only a few days ago. Heat licked down my spine at the memory—the wet suction, the lewd slurping noises, that clever, rippling tongue.
I dragged my gaze away before it could linger too long on the tempting curve of his throat. My cock twitched. Dammit, this was exactly what I’d been afraid of. “Sexual, Marco. Things always get sexual when it’s just the two of us.”
“And that’s a problem because…”
“Because Meghan’s not here.”
“And you think she’d be upset?”
“Yes.” No. But I didn’t like how vulnerable I was feeling.
“I disagree. How ‘bout you tell me the real problem here.”
The real problem was that Marco was more than just a pretty face and a wicked tongue. The man was full of contradictions—sophisticated yet crass, suave but unfiltered. He moved with the liquid grace of a panther, all coiled strength and latent power. Yet his words emerged in a rapid-fire torrent, clever quips and sly innuendos.
And that was just the surface. For all his bravado, there were layers to Marco that few ever got to see. Fragments of insecurity that flickered behind those whiskey-warm eyes. Chinks in his seemingly impenetrable armor. It made me want to dig deeper. To push past the swagger and the snark until I found more.
“The real problem?” Here goes nothing. “The real problem is that I barely know you!”
“That’s not fucking true at all. You’ve known me for, what, a year?”
The leather creaked beneath me as I shifted in my seat. “Yeah, but just as Callie’s friend. ”
“Uh, best friend , thank you very much.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. Point being, we know nothing about each other.”
“Did you know a lot about the randos you’d take home from the club every other night?”
“It was not every other night. Plus, that was different.”
Marco leaned back. There was a studied nonchalance in his posture, but his eyes were sharp and calculating. “How?” he asked, his tone deceptively mild. “How was it different, Wick?”
My mouth went dry under the weight of that stare. He was needling me, testing the boundaries. But I couldn’t quite summon my usual prickly defensiveness.
“Because I didn’t want to date them!” The words burst out before I could rein them in.
Marco’s face split in a delighted grin. “Aw, you want to date me?” He clutched a hand over his heart in an exaggerated gesture. “That’s so sweet.”
“Right now, I wanna pummel you.” And God help me, I kind of did—though not in the way it sounded. The thought of grappling with Marco, feeling the flex of hard muscle beneath my hands as I pinned him down, it made my cock twitch.
“Hey now. Don’t get all growly on me or things are going to get sexual real quick.” Marco’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, the tip catching on the lush curve. “And that would be bad, because we’re about to get to know each other.”
I shifted again, my pants far too restrictive. “I have a feeling I am not going to like this,” I grumbled.
Marco
“Never have I ever…” I pursed my lips in thought.
We had changed venues after running out of beer. Now we sat across from one another at a high-top at a bar across the street. My gaze flicked over to Wick, taking in the carved planes of his face, the hard line of his stubbled jaw. The way the muscles in his forearms flexed as he cradled his beer. A bead of condensation trickled down the long neck of the bottle, leaving a glistening trail. I dragged my stare back up to meet his, the air between us suddenly charged with unspoken tension.
“Admitted that I’m into men.” I paused for dramatic effect, and an impish grin curved my lips as I met Wick’s stare head-on. “Ope, silly me!” I tossed back my drink, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught the flex of Wick’s bicep as he mimicked my action. Those gorgeous lips wrapped around the bottle’s rim in an unconscious invitation. Fuck, the mental image alone was enough to have my balls tightening. He drained his beer in one long swallow. I followed the movement of his throat, the bob of his Adam’s apple.
Now we’re getting somewhere.
“Oh, very interesting,” I purred, leaning back in my chair, allowing my legs to fall open in a casual sprawl. Every movement was a subtle tease, a silent invitation for Wick to take what I was so blatantly offering. “Do tell, cucciolo.”
Wick shifted in his seat. Even that small movement was enough to make my mouth water—the smooth roll of his hips, the flex of hard muscle beneath soft cotton. God, what I wouldn’t give to strip him out of those clothes and map every hard plane and shadowed hollow with my tongue.
“Carter knows,” he admitted, shattering the heated silence. “About us.”
I raised my eyebrows. Carter Cassidy? What an unlikely confidante. Though I supposed I could see the appeal for Wick—both men cut from the same ruggedly handsome cloth, all chiseled edges and brooding intensity. The mental image of Wick pinning Carter to the nearest flat surface had me squirming in my seat.
“And Emmett,” Wick continued, oblivious to the torrent of lust swirling through my mind.
I damn near choked on my drink, sputtering as the beer burned its way down my windpipe. “Emmett knows?” I wheezed, my voice little more than a shocked croak. “And you’re still alive?”
He winced and shook his head. “He only overheard part of my conversation with Carter. He thinks it’s just you and me together. But he was very supportive.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, I couldn’t suppress my satisfied grin. “Well, I’m so glad Mr. Moneybags approves.”
“Oh, please.” He rolled his eyes. “Emmett loves you. He might even be a little jealous, honestly.”
I waved a dismissive hand. “Nah, Emmett doesn’t swing that way.” Wick nodded, but there was a gleam in his eye that had me tensing in anticipation. “Did you ever have a thing for him?”
“For Emmett?” He blinked, then barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “No!”
I lifted my palms in a placating gesture. “Okay, okay. Just thought I’d ask since we’re getting to know each other.”
His gaze held mine for a moment, heavy with unspoken meaning. My scalp prickled. I had a sense of being utterly exposed and vulnerable in a way I’d never allowed myself to be before. This openness should’ve terrified me. But as I stared into Wick’s eyes, I found that I didn’t want to hide anymore. Not from him. So I bared myself in the most dangerous way I could—with the truth. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you,” I confessed. “It’s like a goddamn inferno inside me, Wick. Burning me up from the inside until there’s nothing left but ash.”
Wick inhaled sharply through his nose. His pupils dilated until only a thin ring of brown remained. “Jesus, Marco.” His fingers tightened around the neck of his beer bottle. “You can’t just say shit like that.”
“Why not?” I leaned forward to brace my elbows on the table. The movement brought our faces closer together, close enough that the heat of his breath brushed my lips. “It’s the truth.”
“Because it makes me want to do very bad things to you. Things that would get us kicked out of this bar.”
I lifted one shoulder in a shrug, feigning nonchalance even as my heart thundered against my ribs. Before I could respond, my phone lit up on the table in between us.
MEG
Where are you?
MARCO
The bar. You back?
MEG
Yes, I’m at Wick’s.
MARCO
Be there soon .
“Our girl’s back.” I tucked my phone back into my pocket and drained the last of my drink.
“Our girl, huh?” Wick mused, arching one dark brow. “I like the sound of that.”
I pushed to my feet, tossing a few bills on the table to cover our tab. “Then let’s go get her.”
Wick grinned and warmth flooded my chest. He stood as well, his large frame dwarfing the small table. “Lead the way.”