Chapter 3
THREE
I t’s impossible for me to think with Marcus this close. He’s got me trapped, using his body as a prison.
Every inch of him is pressed against me, from the long lines of his legs to the strength of his chest and his furiously beating heart.
The way he holds me, and the look in his eyes… I’ve never been able to control myself when Marcus looks at me. Right now, it feels like my blood is boiling. Not in the same way his is, of course; desire pools between my legs.
It rises higher and higher and mingles with the red-hot rage at his rejection.
“Stop touching me.”
I need to sound a lot more forceful than I do to get him to listen to me.
If anything, his eyes darken, and his grip remains firm.
How can I want him? Even when I know it’s not safe? He’s a dangerous man, and for some reason, I want to say screw it and let him hold me tight while he feeds me those pretty lies.
I lap them up every time.
Like the contract and those press stories don’t even matter anymore. Like his betrayals and semi-responsibility for my parents dying doesn’t matter either.
“I promised to keep you safe no matter what. Do you remember? There is nothing I won’t do in order to protect you, Empire. So, you have to listen to me.” His voice drops a pitch and smoothes over my skin like velvet. “Please?”
That last word does me in.
He looks nearly as overcome as I feel. His grip on my chin gentles into a caress, and he brings his palm flat against my cheek. His fingertips trail pure fire along my face, down the line of my neck.
I’m a shivering mess beneath him. My stomach rolls in an entirely new way, my skin prickling with awareness and my breath quickening.
“I am sorry. For everything. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am.” His whispered apologies are as potent as his physical touch.
“ Stop it .”
He takes a step forward and arches his hips enough for me to feel his dick, already hard in his pants. “I’ll never stop, baby girl. You’re in this mess because of me. It’s up to me to make it right. I’m going to take care of you,” he continues. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
What kind of a fool am I for wanting to believe him?
I want to trust that Marcus knows what he’s doing and that he really does want to protect me. How easy it would be to lean into him, but instead, I shake my head, lifting my hands between us, prepped to push him away. “I can’t do this.”
Even through the empty protest, I’m leaning in for him to kiss me.
Please .
He glances down at my mouth, his tongue darting out to slick his lips like he can already taste me. The hand on my cheek shifts to the back of my neck. It’s a comforting weight but also a hook keeping us tied together, keeping me in place when a part of me is still poised to run.
I came here to get away from him. From myself. To put distance between my feelings and the reality of the situation because outside this house is a world where I’m not wanted.
Inside the house, Marcus is staring at me like I’m the answer to every question in the world. Like I’m the be-all and end-all. Like I’ve been fashioned exactly for him, and no one has ever looked at me the way he does.
“You sure you want me to stop?”
His whispered question lights the match and sets us on fire.
He finally closes the distance between us and fastens his mouth to mine. His familiar touch sends a zap of electricity through my body all the way down to my toes. They curl against the floor as we lunge for each other, desperate, hungry. Two animals who crave the taste of the other and know they will never be able to get enough.
The kiss is hard and brutal and everything I need.
His lips are punishing, and his stubble burns along my chin and upper lip. He grabs my hips and hoists me onto the countertop before shoving my knees open wide and stepping in between my legs.
Marcus is very good at one thing, and he’s never disappointed—he has the singular ability to take control. He’s overpowering in the best way, and the longer he kisses me, the more frantic I am for him.
To be absolutely filled.
He hauls me to the edge of the counter, and I wrap my legs around him automatically. The movement brings his erection against the pressing heat of my core, a small whimper escaping me. He shifts to change the angle of the kiss, swiping this tongue inside my mouth as I grind against him, pressing ever closer until I’m not sure where I end and he begins.
I gasp, and he breaks the kiss to nip my lower lip, the base of my neck, and I drop my head backward.
“Fuck, Empire.”
The way he says my name is a plea and a prayer.
Marcus drags his teeth over my collarbone, and goose bumps erupt everywhere. His hand skims from my hip up to my torso and ribs, higher to the swell of my breast. I stop breathing when he squeezes the globe, his thumb brushing my already hard nipple.
I’m panting for him, my lips throbbing and the rest of me tight and hot and dripping.
He buries his head in the crook of my neck and drags down my shirt to touch my breast.
The piercing shrill of his ringing phone ruins the moment.
I’m not sure if the half second of sanity is going to be enough to bring me back from the edge, but it gives me a tiny moment to ask what the actual eff I’m doing.
Marcus growls, kissing me brutally on the lips before he shifts back and grabs the cell from his pocket.
I grip his shoulders to keep him close. “No. Don’t answer it.” The words are out before I know what I’ve said.
I want to keep him with me, touching me, teasing me. Not that we’ve come to some sort of common ground between us, but having him back in my arms, well…everything will smooth itself out. I know it.
Marcus keeps one hand on my leg while he fumbles for the cell with the other and answers the call. “What?” he barks.
Raw silence follows.
I stare at him and mouth, “Who is it?”
Marcus shakes his head, pulling back. It isn’t exactly the cold shoulder, but it’s close enough to have my skin bristling and a chill slipping its fingers along my vertebrae. He skims his hand down my leg before backing away entirely, and I shiver, wrapping my arms across my chest to keep some of my heat in.
Marcus turns his back and drops his voice to the point where it’s impossible to hear what he says. Within seconds, he ends the call. Color blots his neck and jaw, and he clenches his fingers around the cell, ready to toss it as far away as possible.
“We need to talk.”
I swallow hard. Those are the absolute worst fucking words anyone can say to another human being.
He must see something awful flash across my face, something I’m unaware of and too slow to hide. He reaches for me in the next heartbeat and draws me into the comforting cave of his arms. “Hey, calm down.”
“Not exactly the comfort I was hoping for,” I manage to get out.
“Yeah, well, I’m not going to tell you things will be okay because frankly? They’re not okay. Things are fucked beyond recognition. Which is why we need to talk,” Marcus replies.
“Who was on the phone?”
“A man by the name of Stanic Maxim. Not someone you would know, but…he’s about to be the one in charge of both our lives.” Marcus pauses, then scoffs. “Who the fuck am I kidding? He’s been pulling my strings for some time.”
“I don’t understand…”
I squeal, my stomach dropping as Marcus loops an arm underneath my knees and scoops me into his arms. He strides into the living room and deposits me on the dusty sofa. Rather than taking a seat beside me, he moves to the armchair, my father’s favorite recliner, and maintains his distance, perching on the edge like a raptor.
I sniff like I’ve actually got some ground here, shifting to push my hair out of my eyes and acting like I wasn’t a second away from begging him to fuck me. “I don’t like this.”
“Neither do I.”
We scowl at each other, a rut forming between my eyes. “What’s really going on? You’re starting to scare me.”
“You should be scared.” He leans forward, his legs splayed and his elbows balanced on his knees. His shirt is askew, his hair ruffled from our kisses, and his lips perfect and plump. “You should be very scared, Empire, because we’re talking about the Mafia. Right now, they own me, they own you, and they own more than half of this town.”
“The mob.” I drag in a breath, and it explodes out of me in a skeptical laugh. “You’re being ridiculous. Mobs don’t actually exist.”
His expression is deadly serious, the complete opposite of ridiculous. “I went to Stanic to make sure you weren’t going to be hurt after what happened with Parker. And in exchange for your protection, I sold myself to him, body and soul. He’s bought you because he owns this movie, the one you’re contractually obligated to shoot, and he wants it to be made. Unless you go through with the part and film to the end, then we’re as good as dead.”
It’s the largest exchange he and I have had in years. At least, that’s how it feels. The stark honesty unnerves me.
“I refuse to do that movie. The press is already eating me alive for the scandal with us,” I argue.
The beginnings of a damn tantrum bubble up inside me, the classic freak-out moment.
Marcus deepens his scowl. “You know those photos are doctored.”
“Of course I do. But I also know you’ve promised to tell me the absolute truth, and so far, you haven’t exactly been forthright with me.” I felt proud of the word. Forthright .
If one of us is going to embody it, it should be me.
“Which is what I’m trying to do.” Marcus shifts, working his shoulders left and right. “Listen to me. Here is what you’ll be expected to do for the film. You will work fourteen hours a day. You will have your own private trailer, and someone will always be on set with you to make sure things are going according to regulations. Filming should be finished within several months.”
“What, is this another one of your promises?”
“Yes.”
I lurch to my feet. “ No .” My hands claw at my sides. “I said I was done with the movie, and I meant it. I’m not going back. A private goddamn trailer isn’t going to make me change my mind.”
He doesn’t move, doesn’t rise, only sits there, staring at me like I’m some kind of dog, and he’s waiting for me to stop barking.
“A bullet to the eye might do the trick, then,” he replies without mercy. He waits for my reaction, evidently pleased with the way I stiffen. “That’s what you’re looking at if things don’t go according to plan. Those terms are the only way I could make sure you wouldn’t be harmed.”
“It will be mental abuse to make me do this movie.” I lock my knees, my head pounding. This picture is going to be the death of me as surely as the bullet to the eye.
How can he even think of forcing me back into that awful situation?
“Then so be it. At least you’ll be alive. If you don’t do this, and if I don’t make sure it goes off without a hitch, then we’re both dead. Do you still want to argue with me?”
“It’s too much. Don’t you get it? The film is too much for me to handle. And even if it hurts me to admit how much I’m not prepared for it, I’m telling you the truth.”
“Like I’m telling you the truth. You’re going to finish the movie, and I’m going to be there with you. If things don’t go according to plan, you won’t only be finished, you’ll be gone. You’ll be able to see your parents.”
I can’t think. I can’t move. I can’t escape. “You’re a monster.”
“I might be a monster, but I’m doing whatever I can to save your ass. It’s on the line because you’re tied to me.” He looks displeased with the notion.
“Not anymore,” I say as I seethe. “You signed the papers to dissolve your guardianship. Now just get some protection and tell them I’m not doing the movie.”
“I wasn’t able to protect your parents. What makes you think I’ll be successful this time?”