All is Lost (All Series, Book 2) (47 page)

Ending our kiss, Marcus lowers his
body down to rest on his forearms and softly he speaks, “Breesan,
you are my dream come true.”

One arm lies beside my head while the
other roams down my body, reaching between us and grabbing hold of
his cock. He places the tip against my entrance, and soft, green
eyes lift up meeting my gray ones. I stroke my hands through his
hair tenderly.

“
Tell me that you love me
Breesan,” he whispers.

I know that these are the words he
chooses to confirm that I am ready and silently asking me not to
hurt him. “I love you with all of my heart Marcus.”

Sliding both hands under my shoulders,
he kisses me deep while his cock pushes gently into me. I wince at
the sharp pain and he kisses me harder. After a moment he moves,
slow at first easing me through the roughest part. Still kissing me
he begins thrusting his hips, diving in deeper and surging a little
faster into me. He moves his mouth away from mine and drops his
head into the crook of my neck.

In between placing kisses from my ear
to my collar, he murmurs, “I love you so damn much
Breesan.”

“
Oh babe,” I pant, loving
how his body feels against and inside me, “I love you
Marcus.”

“
You feel so incredible,”
He groans, pressing his hands into the mattress and lifting his
body above me so he has a better angle. “I’m yours baby,
always.”

“
Mine…” I moan
uncontrollably. My fingernails dig into his backside as I
desperately cling to my sanity. Allowing myself to enjoy the feel
of his body driving into mine, my hips begin to writhe along with
him frantically. His pressure increasing causes my head to press
hard into my pillow as my back arches off the bed, needing to match
his movements. His sensual rocking motion begins to fuel a desire
that starts between my legs, runs up through my core, into my
heart, piercing the deepest part of my mind and looping back down
where we are connected. The buildup of my climax comes quick and
before I have a chance to process it, Marcus slips a hand between
us pressing on my sensitive clit and my entire world shatters
apart.

With my mind revolving out of control,
I scream out his name over and over again before hearing him
gutturally yell, “Fuck Breesan.”

He slows his movement and finally
stops all together, resting his forehead on my chest. Rapidly
breathing together, we silently cling to each other, like at any
moment the horrific world outside will invade our blissfulness.
Still joined, he rolls us to our side so that his weight isn’t
pressing on me.

I drop my head on his shoulder and his
arm snakes around, skimming his hand over my bare arm
softly.

“
Are you okay?” Marcus
asks, tipping my chin up with his hand under it.

I nod, glancing at him, “Yes, better
than okay.” He smiles.

Breathing in deeply, he says, “Damn I
love our scent.” He tilts his head so that he can see me
better.

Laughing softly, I prop my chin on my
hand, lying on top of his chest and ask, “What?”

Smiling proudly at me he repeats, “I
love our scent. Your cherry scented lotion and my …”

“
Cinnamon,” I quickly
answer for him.

“
I smell like cinnamon?”
His hand swipes away a few stray hairs from my cheek.

Nodding, I add, “And Sandalwood. I
would know your scent anywhere.”

“
Would you?”

“
Oh god, yes. That night on
the balcony, I was totally hypnotized by your scent and have since
picked you out in a crowd a couple of times. When you loaned me
your shirt the night of the rainstorm, I felt like I was going to
die from it assaulting me all night long.” I sigh. “A part of me
loved it while another hated it entirely.”

Crinkling his forehead, he asks, “You
really hated it?”

Feeling a sudden shyness creeping up
on me, I bite down on my lip and only offer him a tiny
nod.

He tilts his head a little more to
capture my now averted eyes, “Why did you hate it,
Baby?”

Mumbling I say, “Because I wanted you,
but at the time I thought Sam was your girlfriend. And each time I
moved, your scent would circulate around the cab of the truck. That
was one hell of a night.”

“
That it was,” he agrees,
kissing my lips sweetly adding, “It was the night I knew that I was
in love with you.”

“
What?” I gasp. “Why that
night? What did I say that…Ohgod!”

“
It wasn’t what you said.
It was that you shared it with me freely. I knew then that you
trusted me. Your protective wall came down and I saw a beautiful
sweet woman who wanted to unburden all that had hurt her. Trust is
a form of love, Breesan. So when you shared about your dad, you
trusted me and let me in and that’s when I knew that I loved
you.”

Feeling a weight lift off me, I sigh,
“That night I thought you would hate me for spilling all of that
about my family. I didn’t think that someone like you could love
someone like me.”

“
What do you mean someone like me?
Just because I don’t have a wall erected to block people out
doesn’t mean that I haven’t been hurt before. I wanted to protect
myself after Morgan and Elise ripped my heart apart with the
affair. Honestly, I knew if I spent time with you that I would fall
right where I didn’t think I ever wanted to be. So I used the
excuse of my jobs, and I kept my distance. It was me that didn’t
feel worthy of you baby.”

“
That’s impossible,” I say,
crinkling my forehead completely confused. “You’re absolutely
perfect Marcus.”

A loud obnoxious laugh jostles me off his
chest and I smile at him. After a minute of broken up chuckling, he
regains his composure.

“
I’m sure my father would disagree
with you on that account.”

Angering instantly at the mention of his
father, I growl softly, “Your father is a bastard, and I don’t give
a damn what he thinks. You are one hundred times the man he could
ever be on a good day.”

“
Wow, where did all of that rage
come from?” He asks, staring at me in disbelief.

I wince at how nasty that sounded. I know that
his dad isn’t one of his favorite people, but he’s still his dad.
Damn, I hope that I haven’t offended him. Closing my eyes, I bite
down on my lower lip, hoping that I can control the bitterness,
rolling around in my head and keep it from spewing out of my
mouth.

“
Oh no, don’t get quiet on me now.
I need to know what my father did that made you react that way.” He
props up on one arm and splays a warm hand across my stomach. His
eyebrows pinch tightly together. “Breesan, I need you to tell me
sweetheart.”

Resigning at his plea, I reluctantly tell
Marcus everything that happened after Morgan took me away from
Rhys’. It kills me to rehash it, but I tell him about Tristan
kissing me. That pisses him off. His eyes darken with a rage that
mirrored mine earlier. Quickly, I explain that it was only because
he forgot me and I include the part about his sick behavior with
Elise. He remains peculiarly quiet after that additional
information, so I push forward and tell him about what his dad said
to Morgan; about all of his children and how he revealed to Morgan
about Sam not being his daughter.

During this part I can see a sadness veiling
over his face and it pains me that I am the one telling him all of
this vile shit. Finally, I tell him about Morgan’s real feelings
for Waverly. It is only slightly, but I see the corner of his lips
tip upward and know that he is relieved knowing that Morgan no
longer has designs of conquering me. We spend the remainder of the
night and into the early morning hours making love again, and
falling deeper in love than I thought I could.

Completely sated and fatigued my mind sorts
through my new feelings and how impossible this happiness was two
months ago. I cannot believe or understand how I found a man as
loving as Marcus, but I intend to savor every moment of it. Somehow
fate found a way for us to find each other, and his love breathes
new life into me.

His breathing regulates after a pregnant pause
and I take advantage of the moment. “Thank you, for loving me,” I
whisper into the dark room.

Chapter
Thirty-One

Breesan

A slight movement in the bed jostles
me awake, and after a few minutes I open my eyes to the sunshine
beaming through my bedroom window. I glance around the room seeing
all of my old, familiar stuff. Pinned to the cork-board hanging on
the wall over my desk is the comprehensive list of things that are
typed, bullet pointed and highlighted as “Imperative, To My Future
Happiness.” Only the items on that slip of paper are important to
me.

Were
important
, I silently acknowledge how much
has changed. Everything that made up my world of isolation doesn’t
look the slightest bit recognizable anymore. Gone are the dreams of
a scared little girl. I depended on these little goals to keep me
from going mad while standing alone on one side of a wall ignoring
people, who actually cared, on the other. They waited for me to get
over my bullshit, climb over it and finally live with them.
However, through my stubbornness, I stalled too long and let them
down -
n
ever
again.

From now on if someone
wants to love me, I am letting them in
, I
promise myself. It will be an uphill battle, but worth it all once
I let love in freely.

Rolling my body around to the empty
side of my bed, I smile hearing a sexy deep voice singing in the
shower. I remember every detail of last night with Marcus and how
we proclaimed being in love just before making love for the first
time. The pessimist in me wants to focus on how cliché that moment
is to reveal emotions, but the persistent romantic hiding within my
heart wants to acknowledge it and enjoy every damn second of this
sensation. Contrary to the rather obnoxious voice of the dominating
cynic in me, I fight through the brewing maelstrom and chose loving
and being loved.

Stepping out of my bathroom wrapped in
a damp towel, Marcus’ smile blossoms and his eyes twinkle in
delight.

“
Good morning my beautiful
baby,” he says, dipping down and placing a tender kiss to my
lips.

I laugh excessively when I
get a whiff of my shampoo and body wash. Marcus quirks an eyebrow
up, while digging through an overnight bag, full of his clothes and
waits for an explanation for my sudden outburst. My eyes grow wide
when he playfully drops the towel at his feet displaying his full
erection.
Damn tease.
All humor and air is wrenched out of me with this devious move
of revenge for not telling him why I am giggling. Now it is his
turn to laugh.

Sucking in a ragged breath, I manage
to say through a stutter, “You are – bad, Marcus
Walker.”

He retrieves the towel and
wraps it around his waist before saying, “No, my love, but I
can
play dirty. Are you
going to confess what I did to make you giggle? Or will I need
another shower after I engage you in some schmexy filthy bedroom
recreation?”

Two words pop into my
head.
Holy hell
! I
shake off the effects of his seduction before
responding.

“
Schmexy,” I giggle again
at his descriptive word, but halt quickly when he reaches for the
towel. “Okay, I will tell you, but it’s not to turn down that
offer.” I tease, roaming my eyes over the tattoos covering his
enormous chest, sides and lower abdomen.
Good lord, he’s perfection
. “You
smell like…cherries.”

Running his nose along his forearm, he
smirks, “Mm, so I do. Now I will be thinking about you every time I
move, in addition to thinking about you with each beat of my
heart.”

Yeah, how can I not love
this man?
Damn, my heart just skipped a
beat with that confession and his honest expression.

He prowls across the bed
slowly toward me with hungry eyes, and seeing that carnal need
forces a shiver through my body. Wrapping both hands around my
wrists, he stretches my arms above my head as he presses his weight
down on me followed by his lips against my neck.
Ohgod
My neck is
hypersensitive and he knows it. Pinning me like this he is fully
aware of how much he is driving me out of my mind. My eyelids
flutter and close while I bite the hell out of my lip.
Uncontrollably, my body wiggles against his delicious assault
before I finally whimper out my surrender.

Breathlessly, I groan,
“Marcus…”

He kisses my neck several more times
before releasing my hands and stopping altogether. I open my eyes
slowly and see a curious look on his face.

“
I want to give you
something. Would that be okay?” he asks hesitantly.

Tilting my head, I watch the
seriousness deepen in his features and become anxious, worrying
about how I should respond to his request. Any other time and with
any other person I would refuse. However, it seems that for
whatever reason my acceptance is important to him. I nod and watch
him reach into his bag. A tentative smile touches the corner of his
lips as he lifts my hand and places a small black velvet box in it.
Crinkling my forehead, my eyebrows pinch together while I still try
to process the meaning behind this gift.