Sinful Love (Sinful Nights #4)(88)

After all, sometimes long-distance relationships had a way of working out. When Cassidy pointed to the ladies’ room and excused herself, Marcus scanned the tables until his eyes locked with Michael’s, then he headed in his direction.

Michael clapped him on the back. “Hey there. Seems like you’re having a good time.”

“I am. First wedding I’ve ever been to.”

Michael nodded toward Colin and Elle. “Probably won’t be your last.”

Colin rolled his eyes, and Elle slugged Michael on the shoulder.

“On that note, we’re going to grab some of those stuffed mushrooms I see passing by,” Colin said, pointing to a waiter with a fresh round of appetizers.

As they left, Michael dropped a hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “You doing okay?” he asked, his tone one of concern.

“As much as I can be okay,” Marcus said softly. “You know what it’s like.”

“That I do, man. That I do,” he said, squeezing his brother’s shoulder. Marcus’s father, Luke, was headed for trial soon, and it seemed all but a given that the man would be locked up. Marcus would then have both his biological parents in prison. He had a stepmom and lots of siblings who loved him, though.

“But everything else in life is good,” Marcus said, fixing on a smile. “And I am kicking ass in school.”

“You get that from me,” Michael said, deadpan.

Marcus scowled. “I thought Colin was the whiz kid.”

Michael laughed. “Yeah, just pretend it’s me, though. You gotta humor me. I took a bullet in my chest.”

Marcus’s eyes widened. “You’re still milking that?”

He nodded. “And I will for a long, long time.”

Later, Michael joined Sanders and Becky, who were chatting with his dad’s old friends. “Retirement treating you well, old man?” Michael asked.

“Best thing I’ve ever done,” Sanders said.

“Glad you got to see your dream come true,” Michael said, and he meant it from the bottom of his heart. The man might have bent the rules, but his sins were small, and thoroughly forgivable, especially since they’d been instrumental in putting an end to so much pain and hurt in the city around them. Michael had learned in the last several months that the world was sometimes split into good and evil, into black and white. But more often than not, people were shades of gray, like Sanders. He was still one of the good guys, though.

Michael’s attention wandered away from the two of them when a redhead in a slinky green dress and black heels winked at him from across the room. Her eyes seemed to sparkle, lighting up with mischief as she raised a finger to beckon him.

He excused himself, weaving through the crowds of friends and family, heeding the call of his woman.

“Bon soir,” she said in a sexy, low voice.

“Bon soir.”

“I found a broom closet.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Did you now?”

She nodded. “Want to see?”

“In a hotel full of rooms, we need a broom closet?”

She pouted. “But our room is on the fourteenth floor,” she said, since they’d booked one here for the night. “And that’ll take five minutes, maybe ten, to get to since the elevator is so far away.”

He looped his arm around her, brushing his fingers along her back and down to the curve of her lovely ass. He squeezed it. “That your way of telling me you want me now?”

She inched closer, pressing her breasts to his chest. Her camera was slung over her shoulder. “I do. Apparently weddings make me even hotter for you.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he said as she led him away from the reception and down the hall to the broom closet she’d unearthed for dirty deeds. She tugged him inside, shut the door, and set down her camera, then ran her hands along his chest.

She lingered on his scar, even through the fabric of his dress shirt. Three inches long and jagged, it rested under his pec. “It’s one of my favorite parts of you,” she whispered.

“Why is that?” he asked as he bent his head to her neck and kissed her throat, inhaling her scent.

She spread her fingers across the fabric. “Because it says you’re alive.”

He smiled against her skin, kissing her once more as his fingers found their way up the skirt of her dress. “So alive,” he said, then dipped his hand inside her panties.

She gasped, and he groaned. Quickly, he unzipped his pants and in seconds he was inside her, making love to her against the wall in a broom closet at his brother’s wedding. She looped her arms tightly around his neck, and he dug his fingers into her flesh, thrusting hard, taking her deep.

“Mark me with your words,” she said in a breathy whisper. “Like you wanted to that night in New York.”

He’d held back then, keeping them inside. He no longer had to. He brought his mouth to her throat, and kissed her hard, breathing out, “I’m so in love with you.”

He traveled along her neck, kissing and nipping, biting and sucking, each time giving voice to the words she wanted to hear, and the ones he wanted to say. They were one and the same.

“I’m so in love with you, too,” she said, crying out as he rocked his hips against her, filling her, f*cking her, loving her, until they both came together again.