Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Marcus
If I could've made ten thousand guesses about how this day was going to end, it wouldn't have been this.
Me on a picnic blanket in the empty main bedroom of my demo site, balcony doors open, an almost naked Alexia Riley feeding me raspberries.
I mean, it would've been at the absolute top of the ways I wanted it to end, but I never would've guessed I'd get it.
She's giggling, trying to wriggle away, but I grip her hips, keeping her exactly where I want her, as close to me as humanly possible.
"What's so funny, witch?" I say, kissing her ear as I do, making her giggle contentedly.
"Your lips are pink," she says as she pops another raspberry into my mouth.
"Oh yeah? You think that's funny?" I lean in, against her grinning mouth and kiss her hard. She instantly melts against me, her hand resting on my bare chest, as she makes a delicious sound into my mouth.
I pull away, our lips making a little pop sound. "Ha, now your lips are pink too."
She pouts them. "Does it make them look as pretty as yours?"
I smile at her, brushing the hair out of her face. "Nothing looks as pretty as your lips, Lexi." I cock an eyebrow. "I can only imagine how they'll look wrapped around my cock."
It's adorable how that filthy mouth that was teasing me while we were having sex is so shy now.
Her cheeks almost match the colour of her lips, and she slides off my lap before I can stop her, and reaches for another container on the blanket.
It's the olive dip. I watch her struggle with it, frowning at the plastic tab she can't tear off.
"Stop staring at me," she grumbles and then hands me the container as she reaches for another bottle.
"I was admiring. There's a difference."
"Enlighten me," she says, distracted as she rifles through the second bag of groceries.
"One is creepy and the other is charming." I give up with the dip container and lift it to my mouth, ripping the tab with my teeth.
She gasps and slaps her hand on my arm. "Careful! You'll ruin your teeth!"
I grab her hand and yank her back into my lap, pulling apart my shirt that she's wearing and burying my head against her chest, nipping at her nipple with my teeth.
She shivers, letting out a little gasp that goes straight to my already semi-hard cock.
I don't think I'll ever get fully soft around her.
Not now that I know how she feels, how she tastes, the sensation of her clenching around my cock when she comes from me fucking her.
Her nails drag down the back of my neck and I growl against her breast, biting down a little harder.
She hisses but the way her nails dig in tells me she doesn't mind at all.
"I think you'll agree that my teeth are working just fine," I say, letting go of her nipple, readjusting the shirt to cover her. "Marcus: one. Alexia..."
She glares at me, then turns in my lap and grinds her ass against me in response.
"Alexia...what?" She fixes me with that look of hers.
"Er, Alexia...whatever she wants."
She beams and I lean in, kissing her neck. "I mean it. Whatever you want. It's yours."
"Olive dip."
"Hmmm?" I say, absentmindedly, drunk on her scent.
"You said anything I want. I want olive dip."
I hand it to her, and watch as she makes a little plate, with a few crackers, carrot sticks, pre-cut cubes of cheese, and a handful of nuts. She settles back into my lap, her back against my chest and sets the plate into her lap, alternately popping some into her mouth and feeding me some.
It's the picture of utter contentment.
And I wonder how I can make this night last forever.
"Ooh, I forgot." She braces her hand on my thigh as if she's about to move away again, but I stop her.
"No, don't leave. What do you need?"
She points to the bag. "I got you some beer."
"I'm good. You stay."
A little growl escapes her lips. "No! It's that Belgian beer you guys— um, the one you like. It's refrigerated. Hope it's still cold."
With my arm around her stomach keep her tight against me, I hook my foot into the handle of the bag and drag it towards us, then when it's within reach, I grab it with my hand then hold it open to her.
"So resourceful," she laughs.
"It comes with a decade of experience of forgetting something on the ground when we're five floors up on scaffolding," I admit.
She pulls out the bottle of beer. Using my shirt, she twists off the top and hands it to me.
"How did you know I like this brand of Belgian beer?" I say, taking it with a thanks.
"It takes up half the drinks fridge, it's hard not to notice when I want one single slot for my iced tea," she grumbles.
"No," I say, before taking a long drink, "you notice on purpose. You liiiike me."
"Shush, it's not that deep," she says, but the colour in her cheeks says otherwise. And then, before I can stop her, she's sliding off my lap again reaching for the baguette.
"So," she says, settling down on the blanket across from me, tucking her legs up under her, tugging my shirt down over her knees. "Tell me about tonight. In detail. How do you think it went?"
"I told you everything already. The during version."
"But I want the after version now. The behind the scenes version. How did this even start? You and Hunter both just one day deciding to become property tycoons?"
I shrug. "I mean, that's essentially the short version, honestly."
"Okay, then I want the long version."
So I tell her, tell her how Hunter and I had met at an interschool rugby competition.
As much as I loved my friends, they were not really the rough play type, and they made me sign up after I'd given Zachary a split lip in a bout of overly enthusiastic roughhousing.
"We were on opposite teams and he tackled me so hard, I saw stars, and then helped me up and apologised.
I thought, this bloke's either an idiot or he's going to be one of my best mates.
Turned out to be both," I say, chest filling with the warmth I always feel when I think of him.
Out of high school, we kept ending up at the same job sites.
One time we both worked under a foreman who was a complete dick, borderline abusive, but I took it.
I guess I was used to it, too scared to rock the boat.
But Hunter wasn't having any of that shit.
He stood up for me and we both got kicked off the job.
From that day, we were done working for other people.
That same day, we went to talk to his older brother Elliot, who helped us register our own businesses.
From that day, we've always helped each other.
We bid jointly on the big jobs, feed each other work when one company's slammed and the other's got capacity.
I've got blokes who've worked a Hunter Monroe build and then rolled straight onto one of mine the next week.
It shouldn't work. Every business book would tell you it shouldn't.
You're supposed to be competitors." I shrug. "But it does."
"So how does my brother and the other guys fit into it all?" she asks, after taking a moment to think.
"Well, if you've seen how the Monroe brothers do it, then you'd understand.
They're all as different as night and day, but they found a way, an avenue for it to work, and so we copied them.
We know real estate, we know bars, so we own entertainment venues.
It just works." I hold out my hand and she drops a cube of cheese into it.
"But most importantly, we never let the business take priority over the friendship.
We'll burn it all down before we'll let that happen. "
A shadow falls over her face.
"What?" I ask, instantly needing to know what's on her mind.
She swallows. "It's nothing. You guys have really done an amazing job." She chuckles. "Considering you guys could barely read a bus schedule when I first met you."
"Could too!"
"Yeah? Then why were you always having to stay late at our house because you'd missed the bus again."
"You know why," I say, voice dropping.
She sobers. "Yeah. You talked to them lately?"
"And say what?"
"I'm successful, assholes. So suck my giant dick."
I almost spit out my beer. "Little Lexi-Lou with the mouth again."
"What?" She has a vicious look on her face. "I'd love to see the look on their faces if they saw how you were today." Her fingers break a corner off the baguette and she shoves it in her mouth. "Did you tell them?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because they wouldn't have come."
She sighs. "My dad would've been so proud of you."
I swallow, the backs of my eyes burning. "Yeah? You think?"
"I know. Idiots though you all were, my dad always thought you were good guys." I hold my hand out to her, and she takes it, crawling back into my lap. "They're missing out, not being here to see it all. But I also think they don't deserve to so..."
I sigh, and rest my chin on her head. "I know. I'm conflicted about it all the time. I mean, other than my sister, Sophie, she's still a sweetheart, I rarely talk to the rest. They had no part of my success, so why should I care if they're here to share in it."
She stiffens but doesn't say anything, and I don't push. I'm not sure I should. What right do I have to the thoughts in her head? She'll share them if she's comfortable.
"What about you?" I say, not only because I'd rather talk about literally anything but my family, but because I actually want to know. "Tell me about Sydney."
"Literally nothing to tell. I go to uni, I come home to study. I sleep. I get up. I go to uni."
I take a slow sip, telling myself to ask this next bit like it doesn't matter one way or the other. "Did you date?"
She glances up at me, and there's a flicker of something amused in it. "Some. A little. Now and then, I guess. I mean, I wasn't a total hermit."
"Those are all ways of saying 'yes', Alexia."
She snorts but doesn’t elaborate.
Finally, I have no choice but to ask. "Anyone serious?"
She tilts her head as if mulling it over. "Define serious."
"That's not a no."
"I'm clarifying the parameters. You might think six months is serious."