“That’s the thing, though, I don’t. I remember you scaring off those thugs, but I don’t know anything about you.”
“They’re probably a lot more than thugs. I’m Marcus Willingham.”
“Eleanor Rawson.” I was relieved to finally be able to put a name with his face. “Is this … do you live here?”
He shrugged. “Sort of.”
It certainly hadn’t seemed like a place for some rough and tough biker to live. “Who owns it?”
At this, Marcus dragged his gaze to mine and kept it there. “I do.”
I drew my brows together in a frown. I wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m sorry, it’s just hard for me to pair this place with you.”
He chuckled. It was low and rich, and actually racked me with shivers. They weren’t from fear, but rather of interest. Marcus had a strange sort of magnetic feeling to him that made me want to step a little closer.
“Weren’t you ever told you can’t judge a book by its cover?”
The question should have embarrassed me, but I felt too out of sync with reality to really care at that moment whether I was being awkward in conversation or not. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m still just trying to get over the shock of what happened tonight.”
“Eleanor—”
I smiled. “Please, call me Ella.”
“Ella, we should get you back to bed.” He stepped to the door and rested his arm on my back to escort me inside. His touch sent a shiver of—Holy shit! Desire?—skating down my spine.
His manly scent was intoxicating.
Marcus kicked the door shut behind us. Despite still feeling disoriented, I was grateful for his strength. I was craving the man before me, but his strong arms held me in place. As intimidating as he was, there was something very (and I mean very) breathtaking about him.
Yep, that’s definitely desire for a man I just met. I’m in trouble.
“I should’ve asked my boss to give me a ride home,” I mumbled to break the uncomfortable silence and to clear my naughty thoughts. “Then I wouldn’t be here burdening you.”
He shook his head. “You’re not. Tomorrow, you’ll be good as new. For now, I want you to take it easy. Is there anything else you need?” His eyes pierced mine.
Oh, shit. Was he leaning in?
“To be honest, I want to … I mean … thank you.” I sounded like a bumbling idiot.
I felt weak. Oh, those blue eyes. I could get lost in them. So gorgeous and so very deep. For some reason, his gaze sent a hot sensation throughout my body, directly to my center, and I felt a tingle between my legs. God, what the hell is wrong with me? I wondered and wanted to slap myself silly. I hardly knew this man. I’d never in my life slept with a man on the first night, not to mention after, well, being mugged. I fought hard to understand what I was feeling—and why. Okay, so he was freaking panty-melting hot. And he had that ruggedness about him that made a girl want to swoon… But that only happened in movies, right? Nope. I was a goner. I began to feel light-headed, but not from “physical” weakness.
He brought his arms around me, holding me close to him, and I basked in the strength of his embrace and hardness of his chest. All the pent-up feelings, the excitement and stress, the fear and confusion fell from me.
I lifted my head, and in response, Marcus dipped his.
His presence was warm and inviting.
“You…” I began, feeling small and fragile under his stare.
“Pssst,” Marcus whispered, tilting and lowering his head.
I closed my eyes.
His lips touched mine.
Our mouths melded together in the perfect dance. They were flawlessly formed for each other. Hell, the only thing I knew about this man was that he’d saved me from God only knew what, and that he owned this hotel. Part of that scared me a little, but then another part—a much larger part—was almost thrilled by the idea. Maybe it was my dark, inner love for danger. No, that wasn’t it. I wasn’t somebody who liked, let alone loved danger. If anything, I was usually a chicken where most men were concerned.
But why then was I wrapping my arms around his shoulders, and he reacted by pulling me closer to deepen the kiss. He held me tightly against him, staring at me. Before I knew it, he had us stumbling back to the bed. His eyes were fixed on me, like I was his prey, when he pushed me down to my back and onto the bed.
6 Weeks Later
Please, please, please, I thought, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth. Be negative.
I sank onto the floor and wrapped my arms tightly around myself. The tiles beneath my bare feet had warmed by this point, and yet I still felt chilled to the bone. My eyebrows knitted together as I stared at the plastic stick balanced on the edge of the tub.
My stomach churned, and I felt another wave of nausea. Shutting my eyes, I pursed my lips and took several deep breaths through my nose until the sensation subsided.
One deep breath.
A second.
A third.
By the fourth, I was ready to pick up the stick.
My mind went blank as I stared at the plus sign. In a single instant, my life had changed forever.
I wasn’t sure how long I stared at the pregnancy test, but it was long enough to go from feeling nothing to everything at once. I was torn between bursting into tears and beaming with excitement.
Being a mom had always been on the list of things I wanted to accomplish in my life. I loved children—always had, and the idea of raising my own had been one of my dreams. Later. Much later in life.
Jacob would be thrilled. He was a good boyfriend—the nicest man I’d ever dated. He’d even brought up the possibility of getting married, even though we’d only officially started dating a month ago.
Yes, Jacob would be a good father.
Then, my smile faded as the memories of six weeks ago flooded to the surface.
“Don’t question it,” he whispered. “Let yourself go.”
I let myself give in to his delicate kisses and tender touches, relaxing on the bed. Marcus’s fingers slipped beneath my nightgown, trailing feather-light sensations across my stomach and around my hips. I shifted to allow him to remove the silky nightie, and he tossed it behind him.
He growled playfully and pushed me back to the bed.
I gasped as he peered down at me with a dangerous gaze. Slowly he ground himself against me, invoking another gasp from my throat.
Everything about him invaded my senses: his smell, his sounds, his touch…
His gaze had turned from playful to serious, and he rested his hands on my shoulders, holding me in place. He pressed heated kisses along my collarbone, trailing them between my full breasts. He stared down at me hungrily, and I felt defenseless and exposed beneath him. It filled my body with intense shudders of desire.
Marcus’s warm palms closed over my breasts, and his fingers clasped my nipples, his thumbs brushing them over and over. When he pinched them, I twitched and jumped under his touch.
It was almost too much to handle.
Our breath had grown heavier under the intensity of the moment, and the anticipation pounded against my ribcage. Marcus paused what he was doing and straightened his back. I watched as his chest rose and fell steadily. He set his fingers to my panties and tugged them down my legs. He exposed the sensitive flesh hidden between my tender folds and lowered his mouth to taste me.