Masters at Arms (Rescue Me Saga, #0.5)(31)
Oh, Damián. I’m so scared. I wish I had your courage and strength.
Section Three
Prequel to Marc’s Story, Nobody’s Angel
October 2003, Aspen, Colorado
“Not tonight, damn it.” The knock at his door was not welcome. Marc D’Alesso had had an exhausting day trying to juggle what seemed like dozens of crises at the resort and just wanted to be left alone.
He drained his glass of Pinot Bianco and leaned over to set his wineglass on the oak coffee table. Standing, he walked over to the stereo to turn down Bocelli’s Por Amor. The living room of his Aspen apartment was done entirely in earth tones that reminded him of his childhood home in Lombardy, and usually provided some calm for him after the stresses of trying to run the family business.
So not working tonight.
With reluctance, he crossed the living room to open the front door. On the welcome mat knelt a voluptuous Italian woman he recognized immediately, even though her head was bowed.
Ah, shit. Not again.
“I’ve been very bad, Master Marco.”
Melissa raised her head to look at him and smiled. She wore a very low-cut blouse, her breasts spilling from the gaping vee. Two years ago, he’d have dragged her inside, stripped her, and had her ass reddened within ten minutes.
That was before he’d found her in bed with his brother, Gino.
“Look Melissa, I’m tired, I don’t appreciate your topping from the bottom, and I thought we were finished playing these games.”
She sat back on her heels, straightening her back. A look of sheer desperation crossed her face before she controlled it and reached up to place her hands on the sides of his hips. He didn’t help her stand, but perhaps if he had, she wouldn’t have been able to rub her breasts across his crotch and chest as she pulled herself to her feet.
Melissa teetered and grabbed his arms for support. Had she been drinking? Not nearly as much as he’d have to drink to want to have anything more to do with her again.
The woman who had nearly become his fiancée wrapped her arms behind his neck and pulled his face toward hers. “Please, Marco. I need you. No one can satisfy me the way you can.”
He doubted she’d waited around celibately over the last eighteen months for him to satisfy her again. What the hell did she want? He reached up to separate her interlocked hands and took a step away from her. Big mistake. She stepped into the apartment to follow him.
“Melissa, we’re through. We were through six months before what happened after Gino’s funeral. That was just a big mistake.”
Tears filled her brown eyes. She’d always been able to cry at a moment’s notice. Her well-manicured hand splayed across his chest. “Marco, we need each other. Gino would have wanted us to be together to comfort each other.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” Gino didn’t share. What was his, was his. And he’d made it abundantly clear that she was his before he left for Afghanistan. Of course, after their betrayal, Marc had wanted nothing to do with either of them.
She closed her eyes, then gazed up at him again and took a new tack. “Gino never satisfied me the way you could. He didn’t understand my need to be controlled.”
As if Marc had ever been in control in their relationship. She’d pursued him in college and they’d dated exclusively the year before he graduated. Then he brought her home to the resort to meet his family in preparation of popping the question. At least he’d been divested of that notion before it was too late.
Melissa had played Marc for a fool. He’d vowed that no woman would have that kind of control over him ever again.
“Look, I’m going to drive you home. You’ve obviously been drinking. Someone can bring you back over tomorrow to get your car.”
He turned to walk into the kitchen to retrieve his Porsche keys. Melissa pressed her body against his back, pushing him against the dark-gray granite countertop. Her hand snaked out to grab his cock through his pants. She couldn’t suppress a moan, apparently disappointed to find she hadn’t given him an erection despite her blatant attempts.
“Marco, please. It’s always been so good between us.” She stroked him and he felt his long-neglected cock responding.
He spun around and grabbed her shoulders, wanting to push her away. Her pupils dilated. Damn her. If she wanted to be controlled, he could accommodate her.
He wrapped his fingers around her upper arm and guided her back into the living room. She stumbled on the stilettos and he steadied her. Maybe it wasn’t that she was drunk, just that she couldn’t walk on those damned five-inch heels.
When they reached the tan-colored leather sofa, he pushed her hips against the armrest and eased her torso over until her head was on the seat cushion and her ass high in the air. She turned her head and looked back at him, smiling.
“Hard, Sir. Give it to me hard.”
Marc knew he’d hate himself later for letting her top him like this, but right now, he needed to blow off some steam. His life was so damned f*cked up. He hated his job, but knew he couldn’t leave it. He owed the family that much. But being cooped up behind a desk all day was killing him. He hadn’t been out on the slopes since Gino enlisted.
Managing the resort was killing him by degrees.
He went to the bedroom to grab his toy bag and returned to Melissa, who waited patiently for him to begin. God help him, if she didn’t look good to him, draped over the armrest, waiting to be spanked. Well, he wasn’t in the mood for an over-the-knee spanking tonight. Too intimate. He reached into the bag and pulled out his riding crop.