The Chemistry of Love(74)

Which was entirely possible. What if I hadn’t protected myself from the toxicity of the lipstick the way I thought I had? I grimaced. That wasn’t it.

I needed this. Something tangible so I wouldn’t be made fun of. I knew it was ridiculous, but I wanted it to happen.

But I didn’t want to explore the reason why I wanted it to happen. My surface explanation was good enough for me.

“You don’t think it’s a little tacky?” he asked.

“Are you worried about seeming tacky or are you worried about convincing your brother that we really like each other?” He put his hands in his pockets, and I was worried I was losing him. “This doesn’t have to be weird.”

“Yeah. I’m the one making it weird,” he said sarcastically.

My heart had been pounding hard in my chest since we walked into the bathroom, and it only got louder. Because I could see from his expression that he was going to do it. His gaze was fixed on my throat, and my pulse there jumped.

This was about proving to other people that I belonged here. And had absolutely nothing to do with wanting to feel Marco’s lips on my skin.

He sighed, taking his hands out of his pockets, and walked toward me. I tried not to bounce with excitement and anticipation.

“Dark red,” he said as he put his right hand on the left side of my throat to hold me still. That pulse point beat even harder, and my brain was so fuzzy that it was hard to register what he was saying.

My lips. He was talking about the color of my lips.

“Where?” he asked, and it took me a second to register that he was asking where I wanted the hickey.

I fluttered my fingertips along the right side of my neck, too filled with anticipation to even speak.

“I feel like a vampire,” he muttered just before he ducked his head and pressed his hot mouth against my cool skin. The shock of it was almost enough to knock me off my feet. I grabbed on to the lapels of his jacket, clutching him tightly. He sucked my skin delicately. That was never going to leave a mark.

“Harder,” I told him breathlessly.

He used his hand to press me against his mouth, and the other went to my waist so that I was flush against him. He did as I instructed and sucked harder. He was so big and strong and overwhelming and I loved every second of it.

My entire body felt like one giant heartbeat, throbbing with want. My head went backward, too heavy to keep upright. I just wanted to go completely limp as hot sensations zinged through me. The spot where his mouth was fused to my throat, it was like he was pushing heat into my body, threatening to consume me.

His teeth nipped my neck; then I felt the warm press of his tongue against my skin, sending a jolt through me. I made a noise that was severe enough to make him stop what he was doing and ask, “Are you okay?”

I wasn’t imagining anything—his breathing was uneven and unsteady. Less than mine, but it was still there.

Then I remembered that he’d asked me if I was okay. I wanted to say, Yes, I’m just fine. All the blood has left my brain and is pooling in my gut, and there’s nothing I want more than to grab your head and make you do that again, but just fine.

Instead I said, “All systems go!” Which was stupid but true in more ways than one.

We stood there, staring at each other.

“Did it work?” I finally managed.

His gaze flicked hotly to my throat and then back up to my eyes. “Yes. Sorry if I got a little rough.”

“No, I . . .” I had been about to say that I’d liked it. Probably not a good idea. I was not going to make an idiot of myself here and beg him to keep going. “I’m good.”

The mirror was directly behind his right shoulder, and I glanced at my reflection. My lips were still a dark red.

So now I knew what that meant. I glanced back at him. Marco was too smart not to recognize it as well. Would he look at me with pity and sympathetically remind me for the millionth time that we were just friends?

In that moment, I didn’t think I could handle that.

As if he recognized how I was internally freaking out, he offered me his hand. “Now that I’ve officially branded you, should we head inside and make some mistakes?”

Was he saying that the hickey thing had been a mistake? Or it hadn’t been one and we should make some?

He was so confusing. I took his hand, though, ignoring how much I loved holding it. “Sure thing, James Bond.”

Although in Marco’s case it was more Double Oh Yeah.

“Don’t you mean Double Oh Seven?” he teased with a wink, letting me know that I was still so discombobulated that I was saying things out loud that I had meant to keep in my head.

It wasn’t my fault that he was so hot.

He opened the bathroom door, and I ignored the looks from people standing in the general vicinity as we went into the ballroom.

“Better James Bond than Arwen, though, don’t you think?” he asked.

I appreciated his attempt to make me feel better. “You’re not funny.”

“I beg to differ.” We entered the ballroom and honestly, I’d expected more. Like one of those heralds announcing our presence.

Rich people were disappointing.

“Are you ready for tonight? Did you read the binder?” he asked as we walked along the outskirts of the room.

“Yes,” I told him, annoyed.