Chapter Ten
The Second
Marcus
When it was almost too late, Marcus pulled out of
Daisy’s mouth and got to his knees in their bed.
Her torso shot up so she was on her knees, too.
Her eyes also narrowed and she snapped, “I wasn’t done!”
Marcus hooked her with his arm around her waist, felt her
surprised, breathy cry carve through his throbbing cock as he lifted her up and
swung her in front of him.
He turned them so her back was to the headboard.
One arm around her, his other hand guiding the way, he slid
her down on him.
Her head fell back, her hair brushing his arm.
He fell forward, on top of her. Her platinum hair all over
his pillows, he lifted an arm to brace his hand against the headboard and he
started moving.
She focused with effort on him.
“You’re done,” he growled.
She gave him a dazed grin.
He kissed her.
Five minutes later, he made her come.
A minute after that, she gave him the same.
It had been three days since they’d consummated their
relationship.
Three days Marcus gave Daisy to get used to this change.
Three days Marcus gave himself to watch over her and make sure she was good
with the change.
And three days for him to get over being pissed she’d tried
to leave him.
She was good with the change if the amount, variety, and
magnificence of the sex was anything to go by.
He wasn’t complaining. Weeks with her in his life and the
last of those with her sweet little body, beautiful face, and all that gorgeous
damned hair sleeping beside him in his bed had been torture. He was fucking
thrilled it was over.
Obviously because the torture was over.
But mostly because Daisy was good with it.
However, to be certain, he’d called Bex and discussed the
change with her.
“It’s a process,” she’d explained. “Some people adjust. Some
people it takes longer. Some people let it haunt them. If you perceive this is
going well, just keep doing what you’ve been doing. Be watchful. Encourage her
to communicate. And be patient. She’ll never be over this, Mr. Sloan. I think
you understand this isn’t a bruise that fades away. It’s coming to the
understanding that what happened, happened. It was no fault of hers. Then
learning how to cope with the fact it happened and giving herself permission to
move on. That’s the key. But if you can show her you’re a man who’ll handle her
with care, that you’ll be there in those times she needs to cope, then I have
every faith you two will be good.”
One thing Marcus knew, Daisy could cope with anything.
The thing he didn’t know was if she knew he would always be
there to help.
So right then, after they’d shared what they’d shared on a
night when she didn’t have to work so they had all night to get through what he
needed them to get through, he was going to make certain she knew that.
“We need to talk,” he declared.
She stopped tracing patterns on his chest with a pearl-white
fingernail that had a pink tip with a swirl of black across it, the black
embedded with rhinestones.
She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him.
“Uh-oh,” she mumbled the minute she did.
Marcus tightened his arm around her at his side and pulled
her over his chest.
Then he clamped his other arm around her.
“I’m thinkin’ this is a serious
talk, you need me fixed to your chest,” she kept mumbling, her eyes aimed at
his chin.
“This is serious, darling, so please look at me while you
listen to me.”
She looked into his eyes.
She was holding her body stiffly and Marcus wanted to shake
her.
She was preparing for the worst.
This shouldn’t be a surprise, not with the life she’d led.
However, Daisy lost it with him taking his time completing
them. The operative part of that was taking his time.
She was far from dumb.
And he’d taken his time and taught her better.
Holding his patience, he stated, “I handle you with care.”
She stared at him.
“Have I ever not done that?” he asked.
“No,” she said slowly.
“So you know that.”
“Yes.”
“So why are you tensed and looking freaked out?”
“Uh…I don’t know, because you’re freaking me out.”
“How am I doing that?”
“You’re bein’ real serious and we
just had a fun time, sugar. After fun times don’t come serious times. After fun
times there’s cuddling and whispers which lead to kissing and groping and then
more fun times. Unless you’re sleepy, then they lead to sleepy times. They
don’t lead to serious times.”
A variety of things with Daisy would be a lot easier if she
wasn’t so goddamned cute.
“You don’t use your last name,” he announced.
She stared at him again.
“Smithie’s got it on your employment records but you don’t
use it. Ever. None of the girls know it. None of the bouncers. Waitresses.
Nobody.”
“Well, I’m Daisy like Cher’s Cher and Charo is Charo. But
I’m more like Charo. She has better hair…and cleavage.”
Yes, a variety of things would be easier if Daisy wasn’t so
fucking cute.
“That’s not it,” he pushed.
Haltingly, she replied, “I…it’s not mine. It’s…well, his.
And he hasn’t been a part of me in, uh…maybe really in forever.”
“You’re right. It’s not yours. You’re Daisy. And the only
last name you’ll ever really have is Sloan.”
Her body lurched on top of him.
He just held her tighter.
“So let’s get this straight, shall we?” he suggested.
“Okay,” she whispered, her eyes bright and still staring.
Marcus had a feeling with what he’d already said she had it
straight.
But he went about making certain.
“I handle you with care. I’ll always handle you
with care. I will never, not ever, Daisy, give you reason to leave me. I won’t
cheat on you. I won’t beat you. The gambles I take will be in business only,
but you’ll always be covered financially regardless. I like to drink but I
never drink too much. I’ve never taken drugs in my life. I like control and you
can’t be in control inebriated or stoned. To end, you’re safe with me. You’ll
get from me only what you deserve, which is everything I can give you doing it
handling you with care.”
“Okay, sugar.” She was still whispering.
“Is that completely understood?”
She nodded.
She was staring at him so closely he decided she did
understand.
Completely.
Regardless, he kept going.
“If I break any of those promises, you’re free to leave me.
If I don’t, you’re not. Not ever. If something isn’t working, we talk it out
and make it work. Which means we’ll always work so there will be no reason to
leave.”
With that, a different understanding was all over her face
when she said softly, “I got stuff twisted in my head, Marcus.”
“That was clear.”
“It’s untwisted now, baby.”
“Good.”
She drew her fingers down his jaw, dropping her face closer
to his.
“Never gonna leave you, Marcus.”
“Good,” he grunted.
“God,” she whispered, her gaze moving over his face. “Who woulda thought, givin’ my heart, havin’ it broken, learnin’ to
guard it, I’d learn something else one day. That bein’
the best way to keep it safe is to find a man who’d prove he could handle it
with care and give it to him.”
That felt good.
Fucking good.
So fucking good, he’d never felt anything that good in his
whole goddamned life.
But Marcus didn’t share that with her because he knew
without a single doubt she knew it too.
“I’m glad you got that part, Daisy. It’s important.”
She looked into his eyes.
“Now,” he continued, rolling them to their sides, “we can
get to the cuddling, whispering, and groping part.”
She smiled at him, a brilliant flash of teeth added to a
dazzling flash of humor in her cornflower-blue eyes.
Then she started giggling, filling their bedroom with the
sound of bells.
While doing that, she kissed him.
This meant they skipped the cuddling and whispering parts
and got right into groping.
And again, Marcus wasn’t complaining.
His phone rang.
Marcus rolled.
Daisy rolled with him.
She snuggled into his back as he looked at the display.
At what he saw, he kept his body loose as he flipped his
phone open.
“Yes?”
“Lee got him. We’re at the warehouse,” Darius said.
Nightingale got him.
Finally.
“I’ll be there in twenty,” he told Darius.
“Right,” Darius replied.
He felt Daisy press into his back.
Marcus flipped his phone shut and turned to her.
“Everything okay?” she asked sleepily, but he heard the
concern in her voice.
“Everything’s fine. I just need to go see to something.”
She’d clearly looked at his bedside clock because she asked,
“At three in the morning?”
“Yes.”
She got up on a forearm. “Does this happen a lot?”
“No.”
They fell silent as he slid a hand up her hip to her back
and moved into her.
“Right. Okay. You’re comin’ right
back?” she asked.
He grinned.
Fuck, his Daisy.
“Yes,” he said against her mouth.
She let him take it for a brief, deep kiss then she didn’t
let him go, brushing soft, light kisses on his lips before she finally stopped.
“Be safe,” she whispered.
“I will, darling. And I won’t be long.”
He watched her hair nod in the dark.
He kissed her nose.
Then he rolled out of bed and made sure the covers were over
her before he moved to his walk-in closet.
He called Ronald from there and spoke to him quietly.
That done, he dressed.
Marcus walked into the warehouse, Brady at his back,
Louie at his, Vince at his. Ronald was standing outside by the car.
The space was large. There was a couch in it, a folding
table with two chairs, a deck of cards on it arrested in a game. Hiding a
corner, there was some ripped, opaque-with-grime plastic sheeting hanging from
the ceiling, a good deal of dust on the floor, and not much else.
However, the room was populated.
Darius Tucker was there, standing next to his aunt, Shirleen
Jackson.
Darius was a tall, lean black man with twists in his hair
and a face that would be handsome if it wasn’t so cold.
Shirleen was a tall, full-figured black woman with a very
large Afro. She was wearing purple and looked like she’d come to that warehouse
from choir practice at a church where all the women vied to be best dressed.