CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ALICE

I cannot believe we’re having this conversation. It’s not a big secret and eventually it would have come out. It just feels too soon, yet somehow right.

Being able to turn him on and pleasure him without even touching his dick was such a rush. It felt far more intimate than any sex I’ve ever had in the past. How vulnerable and trusting he was touched me deeply in a place I hadn’t realized I needed.

On that bed, Marcus had been completely mine. My voice, lips, tongue, and hands playing his body and bringing him to a shuddering release. I had been in complete control, and it freed me in a way I never had been before.

Marcus isn’t a man I ever saw myself with, and yet here I am.

So do I regret anything we’ve done?

Actually, I can’t wait to do it again.

When he talks about my light dimming, all I can think is I don’t believe I’ve ever shined brighter than I currently do. I want love and happiness, and I’m starting to believe I might have found that with him.

Pulling my hand from his, I place the over-mixed batter near the oven and lean back against the counter to watch him make us breakfast.

“Have you been married or engaged before, Marcus?”

“No.”

Bending my elbows, I pull myself up on the counter and sit there swinging my legs. Marcus’s dark brows raise, but he doesn’t comment about my butt on his counter. I grin. It’s fun seeing what he’ll let me get away with.

“Tell me more about yourself,” I demand.

He flips the pancakes and looks at me. “There’s two of me,” he says.

Okay, didn’t see that one coming. “Like a good and evil twin?” I can’t resist asking.

His grin doesn’t reach his eyes. They remain dark and serious murky pools. “No, the before and after me.”

For a moment I don’t understand and then I do. He’s mentioned an accident before but didn’t go into any details. And I suppose I’m finally ready to hear about that part of his life if he wants to tell me. “You weren’t born disabled,” I say softly.

That grin widens as he shakes his head. “No, but don’t worry. I was probably just as much of a jerk before. The only difference was I could walk then.”

My lips tighten and I stop swinging my legs. “That’s not funny.”

He turns away to plate up the pancakes and pour more batter into the pan for the next batch. “Sure it is,” he says over his shoulder. “Lighten up, Alice.”

He wheels over to me, and I open my legs so he can be between them. Once more, I’m looking down at him from my position on the counter. This time the difference isn’t so vast, though.

His hands land on my thighs and he gives them a squeeze. His eyes lock with mine and I meet him more than half-way, our lips brushing and then clinging.

As we kiss, the simmering desire that I’ve felt since I’ve met him bubbles fast to the surface. I think how easy it would be to head into his bedroom and continue this conversation another time. I don’t know if I’m prepared to hear about him being hurt. The thought of that hurts me.

It would be easy to put this off.

And wrong.

He lived this and to be with him, I need to know what he’s gone through. What has shaped him into the man he is.

Pulling back from the kiss, I ask softly, “What happened?”

Instead of answering, he wheels back to the stove and flips the pancakes. “These might be a lost cause, but probably nothing some butter and syrup can’t fix. Some sweetness can fix everything, right?” The smile he gives me is full of heat, and I feel a pulse between my legs.

His smile drops and as he cooks, he talks.

“My then girlfriend and I had an argument.”

I tense up, worried about where this is going. I have my past and I know he must have women in his. I’m not sure I want to hear about them, especially not if they hurt him.

“I wanted to end our relationship. She didn’t. I left.”

He gives me that crooked grin of his again. “In the hospital, and then in rehab, I spent far too long in bed staring up at the ceiling and wondering if only I wouldn’t have left and had instead stayed to talk things out how I might not be there right now.”

A forced chuckle fills the silence between us as he finishes up the pancakes. “But I didn’t stay and the drunk driver that hit me going ninety, the wrong way down the highway, also didn’t stay home. Our paths crossed and while I didn’t walk away, at least I lived. He didn’t. He had a wife and three kids. I had nobody.”

My hands slam over my mouth as I struggle with what he just disclosed.

What do you say to that? Sorry doesn’t cut it and putting the blame on a dead man does nothing.

“It was an incomplete spinal cord injury. I got damn lucky.”

Lucky? How could he call that lucky?

Blinking, I force back the tears as he rolls over to me and urges my hands down from my face.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It was six years ago. I’m still here, as healthy as I’m going to be, and dating a woman I can’t get enough of. Not a bad life at all.”

His words make me blush, as does the clear affection in his voice and gaze.

“What happened to your girlfriend?”

“Ex-girlfriend,” he gently corrects me before grimacing. “She ran to my bedside, wanted to be all noble and ‘be here’ for me. Forget that noise. I broke up with her for a reason and that reason still held true, broken body or not.”

I’m sure there’s more to it than that. If Marcus wanted to tell me, he would have. So I let it go. The past is the past.

“Let’s eat our slightly burned pancakes,” he says.

At the dining room table, we follow his excellent suggestion and slather our pancakes with copious amounts of butter and drown them in sweet and sticky syrup.

I’m licking some syrup off my fingers and look up to have my eyes clash with his heated ones.

“I’m finding I’m not that hungry for pancakes. I have a taste for something else,” he says in a voice full of need.

He comes over, urges me up, and leads me to the other end of the long dining room table. With my butt pressed against the solid oak table, he lifts me until I’m seated on the edge. Pulling up my dress, his green eyes flare wide at the sight of my bare pussy.

“No panties,” he says in a throaty growl. “Alice, I didn’t realize you were so naughty.” His hands dive between my thighs, and I part them for him.

Without another word, he lowers his head, his tongue swiping wetly up my slit and lapping at the hard little nub of my clit. Electric tingles shoot from that nerve-packed bundle, and I toss my head back as my breathing speeds up.

Using my arms, I hold myself up and watch as Marcus buries his face in my pussy and feasts. His tongue caresses every inch of my inner folds before diving into my entrance and lapping at the growing wetness pooling there for him.

He moans and releases throaty murmurs of appreciation as he messily eats me. When he spears me with two fingers, my hips lift, and I let out a strangled cry as pleasurable sensations bombarded me.

I’m lifting higher and higher as pleasure hums through my body. When Marcus sucks my clit into his mouth and curls his fingers to press hard against my front wall, I scream as I come in a rush.

My orgasm rips through me, leaving me stunned and my entire body riding an intense wave of bliss. Marcus continues to tease my clit, and it becomes way too much.

Panting wildly, I burrow my fingers into his sleep-mussed hair and try to push him away. “Enough!” I beg, trying to squirm backwards on the table, but his strong hands on my thighs stop my movements.

He lifts his head from between my thighs, his face from nose to chin glistening with my wetness. Running his tongue along his lips, he groans. “Delicious.”

With my legs splayed open and my ravished pussy leaking, all I can do is stare at him.

“Again?” he rasps, lowering his mouth to me and blowing gently on my tender, swollen clit.

I tunnel my fingers into his hair and guide him to me, whimpering at the first soft lick.

My eyes roll up to the ceiling as Marcus brings me to orgasm again and again. Breakfast is long forgotten on the table and the only thing I’m hungry for is more of his touch.