Because It's You (Carolina Rebels 2)

“Okay. Promise you’ll call Sylvia or Meredith if you don’t want to be alone?”

“Promise.”

“Good. I’m going to cook us dinner. Go shower and then find us something to watch on TV.” She nods and I feel a little bit better about things. We seem to be okay. I hope we stay that way and that we overcome this because the thought of anything else is unbearable.

“WILL YOU TELL Scott for me?” I lift my head to look at Marc. We’re lying on the couch. I’m comfortably on Marc, but I’m not sure how he’s comfortable. His head is on the throw pillow against the arm of the couch, but his feet are hanging off the other end. His feet are bothering me. It’s such an odd thing to be bothered by, but who wants their feet to hang off the couch like that?

“You don’t want to do it? He’s going to want to talk to you anyway.”

Right. Back to the topic at hand. “Not if I don’t have to. Please?”

His rough hands slip under my T-shirt to rub my back. “Yeah, I’ll tell him for you. Maybe you should hang with Meredith tomorrow. She won’t be as nosy as Sylvia if you don’t want to talk about it yet.”

“Thanks, but I want to spend time with the twins; I can handle Sylvia.”

Marc nods and I rest my head on his chest again. He clears his throat. “I’m proud of you for fighting back. I didn’t say that earlier.”

I shrug. “He said he liked it, so I hoped he’d be cocky and relaxed. Either way, he wasn’t expecting me to knee him in the balls. I had some advantage after that.” Thinking about it causes me to reach behind me for his hands and pull his arms around me. No wonder Marc wanted me as far away from his father as possible, and he didn’t even know about him being a rapist. “Do I really look like your mom?” I ask, remembering that Francis seemed enamored with me. My skin crawls just thinking about it.

“Not at all. I don’t understand why he said that. She had short, spiky red hair, green eyes, freckles, lots of piercings in her ears, and she was a very thin woman.”

“Are you calling me fat?” I don’t want to think about today anymore. Marc came for me. It’s over for now.

Marc laughs. “There’s junk in the trunk, your body compliments it, and everyone likes that.”

I lift my head with wide eyes. “Did you just say I have a big butt?”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing. I have a big butt, too.”

“Yeah, because you play hockey. I have no such excuse.”

His hands slide down and underneath my pajama bottoms. “You don’t need one,” he says, squeezing me. His cock seems to transform, hardening and twitching beneath me.

I pull myself up his body to kiss him. Marc’s touch always works wonders and I want to be with him tonight. Marc breaks away to trail kisses down my neck when I feel his lips do that thing where they move without him speaking.

“What are you doing when you do that? Tell me. I want to know now. No more waiting.”

Marc looks at me, those baby blues almost looking conflicted, which makes me worry.

“Tell me, Marc,” I push. Keeping my voice soft instead of demanding is a complete failure.

“There should be a better day for this.”

“I don’t want a better day for whatever it is. I just want you to tell me.”

He leans forward, presses a kiss to my forehead, and with his lips brushing against my skin, he says, “I love you.”

Holy shit.

He lets it sink in for a moment before leaning back with his head against the pillow. “Didn’t think you were ready to hear it before, but I needed to get it out, so I said it without saying it. I’ve actually said it before, but you were half-asleep; you said it back, actually, but—”

“I love you too,” I blurt out, not paying attention to what he said because I just need to get it out.

Marc’s eyes widen, like he can’t believe I actually said it. I wait for him to say something, but he seems stunned.

“What?”

“I. Love. You. I think it’s te amo in Spanish and je t’aime in French. I love you. Te amo. Je t’aime. That’s three languages, but if that’s not enough, I can literally spell it out for you: I l-o-v-e y-o-u. Now, if you don’t stop staring at me like you’re in shock and kiss me, damn it, then—” He kisses me before I can finish my threat, which is good because I don’t know what I would?