Taking Turns (Turning #1)(25)

“OK. That’s fine. I accept that. All we need to know is if she’s all right. That’s it. Was she stressed out?”

Marcella thinks about this for a moment and then says, “Yes. I’d call her stressed out.”

“Do you think she was afraid?”

More thoughtful consideration from Marcella. “I don’t know if I’d call it afraid. But she was crying when we talked that afternoon.”

“Do you know why?”

Marcella shakes her head no.

“No idea at all? I mean, come on, Marcella. We love her, OK? Not equally and not all in the same way. But we love her. We need to know if she needs our help.”

“She did not confide in me, Mr. Bricman—”

“Bric,” I say. “Just call me Bric.”

Marcella sighs. “I don’t have the answer you need. I promise, I’d tell you if I thought she was in trouble and needed help. I think she has something going on. For sure. But I got the feeling she was handling it.”

I nod my head and take a seat on one of the bar stools. “And you? You came upstairs…”

“I don’t want to talk about it. It was obviously a mistake.”

“Maybe,” I say. “Maybe not.”

“Your friend is weird, Bric. I’m not getting involved with him.”

“Then why did you let Quin f*ck you?”

She blows out a long breath of air.

“I’m not trying to be mean, Marcella. I’m trying to understand. And I’m trying to figure out if you’re interested.”

“Interested?” She laughs. “In that sex game you were playing with Rochelle?”

“If you knew about it—and you clearly did—and you didn’t want to partake—again, you clearly did—then why let Quin f*ck you?”

Marcella leans her hip into the granite counter next to the stove and folds her arms across her chest. “What do you want me to say? I was horny? It sounded dirty and I wanted to get in on it?”

“That would be a good start.”

She grunts in denial.

“We’re interested, Marcella. That’s why I’m here. We are interested.”

“You need a replacement before the weekend?”

“I have never seen Rochelle on the weekends. I have Wednesdays and Thursdays.”

“Oh.” She laughs. “My mistake. You need a f*ck buddy before tomorrow?”

“Can you just be serious for a minute?”

“Sure,” she says. “Sure. Let’s be serious about what you’re offering me. You and your friends want to own me. Share me. Fuck me senseless, any way you want. Let’s get serious about this.”

“You don’t have to be condescending.” I shrug. “Some people like the dark side of sex. And let’s get real as long as we’re getting serious. You like the dark side, Marcella.” I get up and walk around the island so I’m standing in front of her. “You like the forbidden world we live in. Because if you didn’t, you’d never have agreed to whatever plan Rochelle sold you. So why don’t you just shut the f*ck up with your holy self-righteous attitude and listen to my offer.”

“You have some nerve coming here—”

I grab her face with one hand, my thumb pressing into her jaw and my forefinger wrapping under her chin. “Shut. The f*ck. Up.”

She breathes hard and heavy, but she doesn’t do anything but obey.

“That’s better,” I say, letting go of her face. “I’m going to pick you up on Friday and we’re going on a date.”

“I’m working Friday,” she says. Her voice is smaller now. Slightly—not all the way, but slightly—submissive.

“I know.” I’m trying my best to be patient with her. “The gallery. We know Matisse. We’re all going to that opening. So I’m going to pick you up at five-thirty and you and I are going to go together.”

“You and I?” she asks.

“Quin and Smith will be there, but you are my date. Understand?”

She says nothing, so I wait her out. When the seconds continue to tick off with no answer from her, I explain it another way. “It’s a job interview, Marcella.”

“A job?” She pulls away from me, her upper body leaning back against the granite countertop.

“A job with lots of benefits.”

“Like the sex?” she asks.

I can’t tell if that’s a snide comment or one filled with longing. It comes off as something in between and I decide Smith was right. She wants in. She wants this. She likes the dark.

She just needs to tell herself she doesn’t. That’s why she’s fighting.

“We can have a proper discussion after the show. We’ll have drinks at the club and discuss the details.”

I wait for her answer. And after a few moments of thinking, she says, “And then you’ll all f*ck me together?”

That was not the answer I expected. “No,” I say. But I think I catch a little disappointment in her expression. So I add, “Not unless we all agree. And I’m not sure Quin will agree to that.”

I reach under her short skirt and slip my hand between her legs, pulling her panties aside. She closes her eyes when I do this. A soft moan. One finger presses inside her. She is so f*cking wet, just like Smith said.