Chapter Fourteen

In Which This Finally Turns Into A Brother’s Best Friend Romance

T here is still this tension there between us. I have no idea what he’s thinking or not thinking about me. Shania has never been wrong: We’ve reminded each other half a dozen times over the past year at various times: if a guy is confusing, he’s not that into you, but my stupid heart won’t stop being hopeful. We feed the donkeys as quickly as we can and then I take Freddie K. back upstairs while Marcus loads up the golf cart with everything he’ll need to mend the fence. I get Freddie K. set up with breakfast and a fresh bowl of water, for which I’m rewarded with the mental image of him napping, paws in the air.

I leave him and come down the stairs in time to find Randy Lamar riding up the driveway on Ramona’s back. Behind him, is Darla, slowly trailing behind in her old pickup, her emergency lights on.

“You rode bareback the entire way?” I ask him, impressed.

He shrugs it off. “Yeah, she’s a really good horse.” He rubs her neck before sliding carefully off her back. “She didn’t give me any trouble at all.”

Marcus snorts a soft laugh at that as Randy hops down from the horse and goes to rub her head. “Be good, Ramona,” he tells her, before heading over to Darla’s truck and getting in. They back out of the drive before we can say anything else.

“Is he a witch, too?”

I shake my head. “That’s my boss. He’s a werewolf.”

Marcus leads Ramona through the gate to the back yard and then we get back on the golf cart. Unlike our snail’s pace drive to the fire station earlier, Marcus drives us back out to the spot as fast as the cart will go, allowing me to think way too much as the wind keeps us from having any sort of conversation.

I wouldn’t have the faintest idea of where to get started on fixing the fence, but Marcus is like Jacqueline and this life seems to be second nature for him. He hands me a pair of work gloves and I hold wires and wrenches and wire cutters as he bends and splices wire back together to repair the section of fence the animals have been escaping through.

“How is witch school going?” he asks randomly.

“Okay, I guess. I’m learning to read cards and we start working on our Books of Shadows tomorrow, but–”

“But what?”

“Now that Freddie K. is sending me messages, Darla told me I have to go work with a different witch. She says she can’t help me anymore.”

“Huh. Are you going to miss witch school?”

I huff a laugh. “I made a little friend, a kid named Alyssa. I will miss her. She is very smart and seems very down trodden. The rest of the kids are just normal kids. You know–the ones whose whole world is homecoming and cheerleading. They have no idea what is waiting for them.”

He smiles up at me. “You sound almost wistful. I can’t imagine you wanting to go back to that time in your life. There’s no way in hell I’d go back.”

I laugh. “Absolutely not. I enjoy driving and having cake for dinner.”

“You have cake for dinner?”

It’s my turn to raise an eyebrow at him. “In all the time you’ve been divorced, you’ve never had cake for dinner?”

“Not for dinner, but I have had pumpkin pie for breakfast.”

“Isn’t it the best?”

“There are a few better things I can think of,” he says and meets my eyes, the fire back. I’m tempted to tell him to stop, even as heat fills my belly. This is not a game I like playing, but before I can open my mouth, the sky opens up and an ice cold deluge of the fattest raindrops I’ve ever experienced begins to fall over us.

“Damn, I wasn’t expecting it to be so cold,” Marcus mutters as we hurry to gather tools. “Do you want my shirt? We’ve got a long way back to the house.”

I shake my head as we load up the little golf cart and make our way back to the fire station, pressing the limits of the small vehicle’s old engine. The donkeys are waiting for us, braying in anger at the audacity of the bay door being closed. They must have also been caught off guard by the cold rain–the pace back and forth, huddled near the big door, waiting for it to open.

Marcus slams to a stop and hurries inside ahead of me. As he pulls on the chains, the donkeys duck under the metal door, shaking off like dogs and catching us both with the spray. Marcus laughs and moves closer to me, attempting to catch me in his own imitation of the donkey shake. It fails, as does mine, though he definitely gets hit in the face with my hair.

He locks everything up and then turns to me. “C’mon, you’ll freeze. I’ll get you some clothes you can change into.” I follow him up the stairs to the great room. Freddie K, for all of his usual nosiness, is enjoying the sound of the rain on the roof. He lays under a blanket on the couch, in his dead pose, all four paws firmly in the air.

“How does he sleep like that?” I ask as we pass him, my teeth starting to chatter.

“I think it’s the only way he can get comfortable,” Marcus shrugs.

Marcus leads me past the couch to his bedroom, as I think wistfully of the hot water in the showers below.

He opens suitcases he has lined up against the wall and starts digging through neatly folded bundles of clothes before selecting a t-shirt and sweatpants. Turning to hand them to me, he stops and stares at me. “Are your teeth chattering? Your lips look blue.”

He doesn’t give me time to answer. He walks away before I can answer, pushing through a door and coming back out with a thick towel. With a flourish, like he’s wrapping me in a cape, he places the towel around me and drapes my hair over it. My teeth go on chattering as I start to shiver. He studies me for a moment and then pulls me close. “You need to get out of these wet clothes and dry off quickly,” he says, even as he pulls me tighter.

He’s just trying to keep me warm…right?

But this is not a polite brotherly hug. Our bodies are touching everywhere. I can feel every muscle. I can hear the sound of his heart beating in my ear. I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his chest. He leans his head against mine with a sigh and we stand like that for what seems like hours, but in reality it’s a minute, maybe less, before he clears his throat.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I ask, not moving my head from his chest.

“For acting like an asshole when you told me what you do.”

“Eh, it’s a pretty standard reaction. It’s why I don’t date,” I say, even as I continue to cling to him.

“But I would very much like to date you… see if we could be more.”

My heart is about to pound out of my chest. “More?”

“More,” he repeats.

“Why?”

“You’re funny and brave.”

I huff a laugh. “I’m definitely not brave.”

“You agreed to help me even though you have a phobia of horses. You faced it head on to help out a friend. I think that’s brave.”

He pulls back from me and meets my eyes. “Are you still shivering? You need to get into the bathroom and get out of these clothes.”

What is that old saying? In for a penny, in for a pound? “Or…you could help me out of them out here,” I tell him.

He sucks in a breath and I figure I have nothing to lose. I put my hands on either side of his face and run my thumbs across the dark, well-trimmed facial hair he grows there.

“Sarah,” he sighs before he leans down to meet me halfway, his hands sliding down to the small of my back, almost as if he’s afraid to go any lower. His lips brush mine, and suddenly the hesitant, reserved Marcus is someone else completely as his tongue seeks out mine.

His hands slide down to grip my ass as I pull him closer and kiss him harder. For a long moment, he seems to forget everything that’s probably been stopping him from doing this–that I’m his best friend’s sister, that my job weirds him out, that the last time he saw me I was fifteen. He seems to forget it all and I eat up every second of it, not sure how much or how long he’s going to let me stay here in my little delusional world. He pulls back as I nearly run out of breath and rests his forehead against mine. Our breathing is labored as I keep my eyes closed, wanting to be here forever.

I want to tell him a million things, but all I can do is stay still and wait, hoping that this isn’t just a temporary moment of weakness. Finally, he pulls me back close. “Sarah, I want you to stay.”

“I want to stay, too.” I start to work on the buttons of his shirt as his lips find mine again. As I reach the last button, my hands reach for his waistband and he pulls away, taking my hands in his.

Embarrassment is written all over his face. “It’s not super romantic or sexy with the prosthetic. I’ll have to sit to take it off. If you want to turn off the light or…”

“Marcus, it will be fine. I don’t mind waiting. I can even help.”

“No. I just don’t want you to be grossed out by it.”

“You literally pulled me out of the biggest pile of shit the other day and didn’t so much as flinch. I really don’t think a leg can compare to that.” He chuckles and moves to the bed, taking my hand and pulling me with him. I drop out of the towel and begin to quickly strip out of my wet things in front of him, wanting to be ready the minute he is.

“How am I supposed to do this when you’re distracting me like that?”

I pick up the towel and use it to dry the ends of my hair.

“Not my problem,” I grin as he starts to shimmy out of his jeans. His jeans make it down to his knees, revealing his boxers and the obvious tent of the fabric created by his cock. He pulls them completely off, then starts to work on removing his prosthetic. Underneath his pants leg, the thick sleeve of the prosthetic covers his entire leg all the way up to his thigh. Carefully, he rolls it down until he can remove the prosthetic leg. He sets it close to the bed and then begins carefully rolling the protective sleeve down.

“I never realized how long this takes,” he says, huffing an embarrassed laugh.

“We could get sexy hold music,” I suggest.

He snorts. “Come again? Sexy what?”

“Sexy hold music. You know, ‘Your dicking has been put on hold. Your approximate wait time is one to two minutes’.”

“You are crazy, woman.”

“I’m also naked and cold. So hurry up, man.”

He finishes rolling the sleeve off and grabs me by the waist, pulling me down on the bed with him. I shimmy until I’m on top, grabbing both of his hands and holding them down to the bed.

There’s absolutely no way I could hold him here if he didn’t want to be held down–but it’s sweet that he lets me pretend to be in charge. I scoot up his body and trace his lips with one of my nipples before pressing it to his lips. He opens up and takes my breast into his mouth, rolling his tongue over my nipple, switching between sucking and licking until I want to dig my nails into his flesh.

“The other one, too, Marcus,” I demand.

He obeys, sucking my other breast into his mouth greedily, until I’m dripping with need. I replace my breast with my tongue and kiss him until I forget about holding his hands down. Marcus takes advantage of the opportunity and rolls us until he’s on top. “Is this going to hurt you?” I ask.

All he does is shake his head as he copies my move, taking my hands in one of his and holding them above me while his tongue works on my neck. As he works, his free hand snakes down my body, until he’s thrusting a finger inside me before finding my clit and working it with two fingers. I was practically soaked before he even touched me, but at this rate, the entire bed will be a sopping wet mess.

It’s crazy how he knows exactly how to move, how fast to go, how rough to be. I’m drawing in the electricity he’s creating as my legs tighten and my thighs spread, trying to get closer to his hand. He picks up the pace, and all I can do is cling to him as my too-fast orgasm ripples over me. Even as I reach the peak of it, he doesn’t stop moving his hand until I’m pushing him away, trying to catch my breath.

“Marcus,” I say when I can finally breathe again. “You didn’t have to–”

He silences me with a kiss, this one sweet and slow and everything you’d ever dream a kiss to be, only to follow it up with, “You’ve been imagining this since you were fifteen, I just figured…ow!” I pinch him on the ass, hard, and he starts to laugh.

“I’m leaving,” I tell him, teasing, as I start to roll away, but he grabs me and starts to kiss me again.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” he says when he finally has to come up for air.

I pull him close, content to be skin-to-skin with him for this moment. His hand runs lazily over my hip and down my ass. “Marcus?”

He presses kisses down my shoulder and arm, “Mmmhmm?”

“I’m sorry about the whole diary thing. The guys must have harassed you for days.”

Marcus chuckles in between kisses. He’s made it down my arm and has started on my hip. “They would have, but everyone was too afraid of Lugh to say anything about his sister.” He crosses over to my belly and starts back up my sternum before burying his face into the valley of my breasts. “I tried to come talk to you that night,” he says, looking up from the place he’s claimed after a long moment.

“You did?”

“Yeah. I didn’t want you to feel bad. David was a dick, even for a kid. They were your private thoughts, but your mom thought it might make things worse.”

He makes a pillow of my boobs again as I run my nails through the back of his telltale military style hair. “Yeah, I would have been horrified.”

“So, uh, not to be a Debbie Downer but I’ve got zero condoms around here. I haven’t ventured into the dating pool since things ended with Catrina.”

“I think this might be your lucky day, Mr. Jones. I have an IUD and all of my tests were good right after I stepped out of the dating pool.”

“Stepped out?”

“Dating and stripping haven’t really worked out well for me,” I admit. I must be making a face, because he pushes up on his elbow and leans over me.

Carefully, he brushes the hair from my face and kisses me softly. “We’ll make it work.”

I want to believe him, but this isn’t the first time I’ve been down this road with a guy. I desperately want Marcus to be different. He says nothing else as he leans back down to kiss me, moving carefully until he’s directly over me, his legs between mine. He doesn’t break the kiss as he runs a hand from my knee to my upper thigh, the calluses on his palm sending shivers up and down my spine.

His cock rests on my belly and so I reach for it, wrapping my hand around him as best I can and pulling gently up. He groans low and deep in the back of his throat as I find my rhythm. He matches it, moving against my hand as he grows harder and harder.

It’s not sexy at all, but I can’t stay focused. I can’t help but worry he’s going to be sore and tired from all of this later. Should I insist on being on top? There have to be other ways to do this without hurting him.

“Everything okay? Are you getting tired?” he pulls away and asks. I look down between us and realize I’ve been slowing down.

I shake my head. “Sorry, my brain doesn’t shut off.”

He tilts his head. “We can take a break, or just sleep if this is too weird for you.”

Ugh, good job, Sarah. Make him feel self-conscious.

“I’m so sorry. It’s not weird at all. I just–I’m worried about hurting you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Hurting me?”

“Like, are you sure you don’t need me to be on top? Your leg… I don’t want you to be hobbling for days because—”

He cuts me off with a kiss. “If I’m hobbling for days after this, then it will be for the best damn reason in the world.”

I huff a laugh and shake my head. “Marcus, seriously.”

“Seriously. I will take a break if it gets to be too much… but you have to promise me you’ll tell me if it gets too weird.”

I sigh and put a hand over his heart. “Marcus, the parts I care about are whole. Please don’t think I’m ever weirded out by you. It never crossed my mind.”

“But you still worry about my leg.”

I shrug. “It’s going to be like that for a while until I get used to this. My brain has to collect data on it. So why don’t you give me a data point?”

He smiles. “A data point? Is that what we’re calling it?”

“For science.”

His smile turns into a smirk. “For science?”

“Right now, please ?”

He rests his head against my shoulder as he lines his cock up against my body. “Mmmm, I love it when you say please like that.”

“I’ll have to remem–” my words turn into a sigh as presses into me, slowly, his cock filling me completely before he lifts his head and looks at me.

“Still good?” he asks.

“Marcus,” I press up toward him and begin to move. How does he have so much control? “Now, please. “

“Since you said please,” his voice is a low rumble in my ear as settles on his forearms and begins to move slowly, building up a rhythm that’s satisfying but not crazy. He moves leisurely, as if he has all the time in the world, kissing my neck and shoulders with each thrust.

I’ve had boyfriends and situationships and even a really unfortunate engagement when I was in college, but no one has ever been so careful and sweet with my body during sex.

Marcus’s lips brush across my skin with the lightest of touches, his whiskers tickling the sensitive skin of my neck and shoulder as I pull him closer, forgetting my worries about his leg in the moment and just wanting to be a part of him. He finishes at long last with a groan, his forehead against my shoulder, his entire weight resting on me for a moment as he catches his breath. He’s still breathing hard when he rolls us to our sides, and still inside when me works his hand in between us until he’s brushing my clit again.

Much to the angst and consternation of various exes, I’ve rarely come just from penetration alone. I’ve always had to have a little extra help. It doesn’t seem to phase Marcus at all. He keeps his cock in me as his fingers work. It’s not the easiest position to get things done, but he’s persistent. Between the penetration of his cock and the motion of his fingers, it isn’t long before my body begins to shake with the approach of the orgasm.

It’s frustratingly elusive this time, but he says nothing, working his fingers in a small circle until my entire body sits on edge, ready to explode. Thank god for poor Freddie K. Whatever he does to keep the fires at bay, I hope he doesn’t have some psychic connection to me and his dreams are interrupted by this.

My voice is practically a whine as my body finally gives in. Pleasure shakes my entire being as I breathe out Marcus’s name, coming on his hand as I try to keep it exactly where it is. The orgasm feels unending, as he continues to work my clit until I can’t take it anymore. Finally, with gulping breaths, I have to push him away.

He drapes his hand on my ass and holds me in silence as I struggle to catch my breath.

“How was your data point?” he asks. I can’t see him, but I’m willing to bet there’s a smile on his face.

I just nod my head against his chest and pull him tighter, unable to speak as I tangle my legs with his. He kisses my forehead and sighs. “I’ve been thinking about this since I hugged you back at the restaurant.”

“All the candles on Soojin’s counter lit up twice, if that tells you anything.”

“Really?” he says, rubbing slow circles on my backside. “How come there weren’t any out of control infernos?”

“Freddie K.”

Marcus snorts a very unsexy laugh. “Come again? Freddie K.?”

I nod. “According to Darla, having a familiar helps with magic regulation somehow. I’m not exactly clear on the whole process. I’m still so very far behind.”

He squeezes me extra tight for a moment. “Don’t worry, you’ll get there. I’m sure this new lady will help.”

I press myself into his side and sigh. “I hope so.”