Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

F ive days. That's how long it's been since Marcel turned up at my house and delivered on his promise to give me a night of pleasure I'd never forget. Five days I've been wondering if he'll show up again. And then wondering if I wanted him to show up again.

My vagina wants him to. That much is evident by the wetness I can feel every time I think of what Marcel did the other night. And the time before that. The man is skilled, and then I question how a person gets that skilled at sex…

Practice, clearly. Those thoughts lead to an irrational jealousy.

"Earth to Zoe. You in there?" Lucy snaps her fingers at me.

Shaking all thoughts of Marcel from my head, or at least trying to, I give her my full attention. "Sorry. I zoned out," I admit with a shy curl of my lips.

"What's on your mind? Or should the question be who is on your mind?" Lucy lifts an eyebrow at me.

I debate telling her. Marcel is one of her fiancée's friends after all. And I don't want to make things complicated between us or difficult for her. Lucy might be my friend, but she's also my boss. I work for her and Savannah Valentino. The latter of whom I know from my time in New York. When Savannah found out I was looking into moving away, she offered me a position here. I hope to one day be as talented as both Lucy and Savannah are and have my own company. Right now, I'm content with just learning from them, though.

"Is it because your Russian friends beat the crap out of Marcel?" Lucy asks when I don't answer her.

My eyes widen and I can't hold back my gasp. "What?"

"Oh shit, you didn't know?"

"No, what happened? Is he okay?" I rush out. I'm about to pull out my phone and call him. Except I realise I don't have his number.

"He went into Varka, looking for you. Dom had to go and pick him up. Said he'd had the crap beaten out of him. I figured you knew," Lucy says.

"When did this happen?" I ask her.

"A few days ago. I'm sorry. I would have said something earlier…"

"It's okay. How… Where… Do you know where he is right now?" I start clearing off my desk and packing up my things. I probably shouldn't leave in the middle of a meeting, but I need to see him. I need to make sure he's okay, and that he knows I had nothing to do with what happened to him.

"Hold on. Give me a minute." Lucy grabs her phone and brings it to her ear, dialling out to someone. "Dom, where is Marcel right now?" she asks. I don't hear the response, but I do see her roll her eyes. "Stop being so dramatic and just tell me where he is, Dominic McKinley." She waits again and then she laughs. "Don't do that. It's not for me. Zoe wants to know."

Don't do what?

I've heard rumours about Dominic and just how psychotic he can be. All from Izzy, of course. And if that woman is telling me someone else is cray-cray, then I believe her. Because she's probably the most lethal and ruthless person I've ever met. I think she's even more terrifying than Mikhail. When you get on her bad side. Lucky for me, I've only ever seen the good parts of her directed my way.

"Okay, thanks. Love you," Lucy cuts the call. "He's on campus. Let's go. I'll take you there," she offers.

"You don't have to do that." I feel bad enough that I'm leaving while we were in the middle of something.

"I know I don't have to. I want to. It's what friends do, Zoe. Besides, you don't know your way around the uni."

She's right. I don't know my way around that campus. I've never even been there. I'd never find him myself. So I follow Lucy outside and over to her car.

Lucy points to a building. "He'll be coming out of there in about five minutes," she says. "You want me to wait around with you?"

"No, it's okay," I tell her. It'd be better if she didn't. He might not want to see me, and I don't need anyone else to witness my embarrassment. I honestly wouldn't blame him if he turned me away. He got hurt because of me.

"Okay. Call me if you need me for anything," Lucy says.

"I will. Thank you." I hug her before she leaves and then sit down on the bench and wait.

My eyes stay focused on the door Lucy pointed to. This would be the perfect place to people watch. There are students everywhere, but I stay hyperfocused on that door. My heart picks up when the door opens and a crowd starts piling out of the building.

Will I even be able to spot Marcel?

As soon as the question pops into my head, he appears. I mean, how could you not spot him? Besides the fact that the crowd literally parts for him when he walks through. Everyone giving him a wide berth.

Standing up, I lift my bag onto my shoulder, my fingers tight around the strap. That's when his eyes connect with mine. He looks shocked for a split-second before he masks whatever he's thinking.

My eyes burn with tears that want to fall. I know Lucy said he was beaten up, but seeing his face, covered in healing bruises and cuts, I just… I don't like it. I fall back onto the bench. I shouldn't have come here. If he got hurt like that because of me, then I should stay far away from him.

Marcel doesn't drop his intense glare as he heads in my direction, stopping right in front of me. "You okay?" he asks, squatting down so that his face is level with mine.

"I came here to ask you that," I tell him. My hand lifts, wanting to touch his face. I force myself to put it down.

"Why?"

"What happened?" I ask, instead of answering him.

"I ran into a door?" His response comes out as more of a question.

"No, you didn't."

"I didn't. But I'm fine. This." He points to his face. "Is nothing. I've had far worse."

"I doubt that."

"You didn't know my father. Mean son of a bitch, he was," Marcel tells me with a serious look on his face.

"We both must have struck out in the father department," I say before I realise what I've admitted.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I, uh, I'm sorry about what happened. I didn't know. I just thought you should know that. I didn't tell anyone to do this. And if I'd known what they were going to do, I would have stopped it," I say.

"This isn't your fault, Zoe. I walked into a club I had no business being in," he says.

"You were looking for me. That kinda feels like it's my fault."

"Trust me, it was no one's fault but my own. I'm curious, though. Why were you in a Bratva strip club?" he asks. "I know you're not a stripper, so why else would you be there?"

"What makes you so sure I'm not a stripper?" I mean, I'm not. But how is he so certain I'm not moonlighting as one?

"Because my dick has never gotten hard for a stripper, and I've seen a lot of ?em. But you, Zoe, you make my dick harder than it's ever been before." He doesn't break eye contact as he tells me this. "That's how I know."

"Sooo, you're going off the hardness of your dick? Seems like a reasonable thing to do," I counter, allowing the sarcasm to drip from my words.

"It's never let me down before." Marcel shrugs.

"Right, well, I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing. I just really needed to tell you that I didn't know." I push up from the bench.

Marcel stands with me. "What are you doing right now?"

"I need to get back to the office."

"I know your boss. She'll be fine if you take some time off. Come with me." Marcel reaches for my hand and starts leading me back towards the building.

"Wait! Where are we going?" I ask, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

Turning his head, he looks at me and slows his pace a bit. "I already told you. When I see you, my dick gets hard."

My entire body heats up. He can't be serious right now. We're in the middle of a college campus. I don't say a single word, though, as I follow him into the building. And I don't protest a single bit when he opens a door and pulls me through it before closing it behind us.

It's not until my back is pressed up against that door, Marcel's hands cupping my face and his lips descending onto mine that I finally speak up.

"Wait." I rest a palm on his chest.

Marcel's hands drop and he takes two steps backwards. His eyes flicker across my face. I know what he's looking for. He's wondering if I'm freaking out again. I'm not. The fact that he instantly stepped back doesn't escape me, though.

"You can't seriously want to do this here?"

"Why not?" he asks.

"There are millions of people around, Marcel. What if someone walks in?"

"Millions is an overstatement, babe. And no one is walking in. We can lock the door if it makes you feel better?"

"What if they hear?" I whisper.

"Let ?em." He shrugs. "I want the fucking world to hear you scream my name when I make you come." His eyes travel up and down my body. "You want me to do that, don't you? You want my cock pressing into that tight little cunt of yours? You want to wrap your legs around my waist as I fuck you up against this door?"

I do want that. Damn it. Am I that transparent? I cast my gaze to the floor. Until Marcel's voice has me looking back up.

"Zoe. Take off your panties."

My eyes widen and I look around. My hands have a mind of their own, though, and they start lifting my skirt. Then I reach underneath and pull my panties down my legs, kicking them off from around my ankles.

Marcel bends down and picks them up, before tucking them in the back pocket of his jeans. "Tell me you want this, Zoe. I need to hear the words."

"I want this."

"What exactly do you want?" He takes one step towards me.

"I want you to fuck me," I tell him and can feel my cheeks heating up.

"Fuck, you're adorable. Fucking hot as shit." He undoes the button of his jeans as he pulls a foil packet from one of his pockets.

"You always carry those around?" I ask while that stupid jealousy pushes to the surface again.

Marcel smirks. "Would you prefer I didn't?"

"No, that's not…" I should have kept my thoughts to myself. Of course, I'm glad he has them. One of us has to be thinking clearly.

"Zoe, I haven't fucked or even wanted to fuck anyone else since I met you." He closes the distance between us, his cock now sheathed in the condom. "I don't want anyone else. Whatever is happening with us, it's only us," he says, leaning in until his lips press against mine. Then his tongue pushes into my mouth.

I jump, wrapping my legs around his waist and locking my ankles together. My core grinds down against his cock. Marcel swallows my moans as he kisses me in a way that has my head spinning. It's the kind of kiss you see in movies but never expect to actually experience yourself.