Marco's Redemption - Page 37

Marco leaned back in his chair and observed Natalie in silence. She fidgeted, moved her weight from one foot to the next and couldn't keep her eyes on his. She was nervous.

And son of a bitch, her nervousness was making him nervous.

Why had she come here? Why was she nervous? He couldn't deny the heat and the pure pleasure that had run down his spine when he'd seen her in his doorway. But not now. Now he was feeling something far different. A cold sweat broke out. This was so far from her normal routine that he admitted to himself what he was feeling.

Panic.

He pushed the congealing lump down his throat and tried to get his shit together. His eyes narrowed on her. "What's up?" he asked as steadily as he could manage.

She licked her lips and finally looked him in the eye. "Nothing. I just needed to speak to you and realized I'd never seen your bank. So here I am."

"Yes, here you are."

"So--" She puffed out a breath and her eyes left his as they wandered around his office.

"What do you need to tell me?"

She took a deep, steadying breath. "Just that I'll be late coming home tonight."

"Why?" The word left his lips in a growl--even though he was reeling inside from the intense relief that she would be coming home tonight.

The information she gave him didn't answer his question immediately. "I put a pot roast and potatoes in the crock pot. It will be ready when you come home. Just leave the kitchen. I'll clean it when I get in."

"Where are you going?"

"To see my mom--"

His muscles tightened. "Where the pedophile lives?"

"I'm an adult, Marco. He's not a pedophile, at least I don't think he is."

"It's not happening, baby. You're not going where you might be in danger."

"You're right. I'm not. I'm not going anywhere near Vidor. Mom took a vacation day and we're meeting in Beaumont, at a very large, very public restaurant."

"He's not going to be there?"

"No, otherwise I wouldn't be going. I told her I needed a girl day, just the two of us. We're going for a late lunch and shopping. I haven't seen her since I left. It's been almost two months."

He picked up his pen and tapped it against his desk in agitation. "I don't like it."

"Yes, I realize you don't like it. That's why I'm here. Telling you in person. But this is one of those times, Marco."

His mouth flattened and he raised his eyebrows in question.

She continued, "One of those times when you're going to have to trust me."

He gritted his teeth so hard it hurt. "Evidently."

Her shoulders relaxed infinitesimally, and he stood to his feet and crossed the room. He threw the lock on the door and reached for her two seconds after that. She sucked in a breath and stared up at him. "I need a little reassurance before I let you go." His grip tightened. "Can you think of anything that would make me feel better?"

Natalie stood dumbstruck under his touch. His dark, diabolical words trickled along her nerve endings. He wanted her now? Here? In the bank? Just the idea sent wild, wanton heat tingling down her spine. Unconsciously, she swayed toward him.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her into him. "Good call, sweetheart. That's exactly right." His head lowered, and he kissed her, hard, fierce, his tongue going deep within the recesses of her mouth and dominating her where she stood. She felt her brain separate from her body, and she gave him what he wanted, her body softening under his hands where they gripped her.

His mouth was hard as it moved over hers, alternating between light sips of her lips before plunging his tongue in once again and stabbing at her, in a motion that mimicked what he wanted to do with his body.

She clutched his shoulders as he lifted her off her feet and walked her backwards in his arms. Her butt landed on his huge, mahogany desk and he pushed his way between her spread thighs.

He wasted no time, and lifted her airy, floral skirt and pushed it to her waist. He ripped her panties down her legs and held her captive while he adjusted his fly and pushed into her, sinking all the way in with one long, captivating thrust.

Two things hit Natalie at once. Pleasure, intense and undeniable--and the knowledge he'd pushed inside of her without a condom. It was the first time he'd ever done it, and she was almost sure he didn't realize it yet. She had to stop him, had to tell him, but she was having difficulty catching her breath. Forming words was almost impossible; the situation was so far away from what she had expected when she left the house less than an hour ago.

He stroked her hard and she felt the sensations building. She had to stop him. She could get only one word out. "Stop."

He didn't.

"Marco, stop."

He lifted his face from her shoulder and Natalie could see the effort it was costing him to even slow down. Sweat dripped down the side of his cheekbone and his face resembled hard, implacable granite. "Why?"

Again, all she could get out was a single word. "Condom."

He stalled against her, but then began pumping his hips again. "I can't stop."

His admission, his very lack of control, sent Natalie over the edge and she began splintering underneath him. She let out an uncontrollable moan and wrapped her arms around his neck as she came in his arms.

He followed her over, and the impact of feeling his ejaculation hot and liquid against her womb sent additional quakes through her body.

She breathed deeply, trying to steady the blood that pumped rapidly through her veins, and held him to her as he fell against her.

Their hearts banged together in tandem, and slowly, Marco raised himself and held himself over her, looking down at her. Natalie didn't know what she expected him to say as she studied the intensity in his gaze. Maybe an apology, maybe instructions of some kind to take care of what they'd allowed to happen. But what he said was nothing like she was imagining. "Mother-fucker, that was good. Unbelievably, fucking good. I want it like that, always."

She swallowed hard. "Too dangerous," she said.

"How so? We trust each other."

"I'll get pregnant, Marco." She tried not to make it sound as if she were explaining something to a four-year-old.

"Get on the pill."

"Just like that?"

"Yeah, just like that."

"I can't yet."

"Why not?"

"Because--because now I might be pregnant. I'll have to wait until I get my period. Unless you want me to take something now, a plan B?"

"Plan B?"

"Morning-after pill."

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