But amazingly, his hard body felt warm and soft around her just those few moments ago. He managed to be tender and gentle in spite of rock-hard musculature and self-confessed rage. Marcus had to be one of a kind.
His skin looked naturally darker-complected, but he wasn’t overly tanned, the perfect complement to his dark brown hair. He had deep, warm brown eyes serving as the windows to the caring, protective soul she met through his messages.
She always thought fighters had a reputation for being meat-heads and brawlers, but Marcus seemed nothing like that. Nothing at all. He seemed just perfect. That was the only way she could describe him.
“Here,” she said, handing him a mug.
She debated with herself on where to sit. She couldn’t just plop back down into his lap, no matter how comforting that had been. In spite of her trust in Marcus, she was still nervous and overwhelmed. She made the easy decision to sit in her favorite pouffy reading chair along the other wall from the couch. She curled her legs up under herself while she sipped her coffee and talked with her pen-pal.
“Thanks,” Marcus said. “I need to apologize for intruding. I don’t want you to think I’m a stalker or anything. I was just worried about you. I could tell you hadn’t been to work, and I knew that wasn’t like you.”
“Yeah, it’s usually not,” she half smiled. Erin stared into her coffee awkwardly. She didn’t know what to say, but she didn’t want him to leave, either.
“You look like you’ve been crying for days,” Marcus said softly. “I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t want to do that.”
“What? You didn’t scare me,” Erin said, shaking her head. “No, that’s not it at all. I think I just finally broke. I haven’t done anything in five years, and then you write to me and I crumble. It’s kind of pathetic, but it’s just how it happened. I needed a few days to clear my head. That’s all. You didn’t scare me. I guess it’s more that I scared myself.”
“It’s not pathetic,” Marcus said with warm acceptance. “You’ve been gone for five years is all. That’s a long time not to feel anything. I suppose it’s amazing you didn’t break before this.”
Erin felt like a fool for welling up again. How could this gorgeous guy who could have
anyone
sit here with
her
, understand her completely, and be ok with watching her cry? The tears pushed their way past her eyelids and she couldn’t do anything but give in to them again.
She set her coffee down on the corner table, grabbed a tissue, and went back to sit with Marcus. He was already there reaching for her. She let him cradle her again, and settled down into his arms. She didn’t sob this time. She just cried, and he just let her.
But the longer they sat together in each other’s arms, the more intense the moment became. Marcus rubbed her back slowly — his touch was comforting, but heavy with emotion, too. One hand moved into her hair to hold her head close to his shoulder, and he pulled her in tightly.
Once, he allowed his hand to move around and he brushed his thumb across her cheekbone. The gesture was beautiful and sweet, but also intimate. Marcus’s very presence was a heady sensation, and his touch was even more so.
Erin was surprised to find that his touch was not frightening at all. She never imagined being comfortable in a man’s arms, but she was living a moment of warmth. She knew him, trusted him, and he was right there.
Without really meaning to, she uncurled her fist and placed her flat hand on his strong chest, and pushed softly against him. She moved her hand up to his shoulder and squeezed.
His breathing shifted slightly as she touched his neck. She kept her head curled down and tucked against his shoulder, but she pulled herself against him.
He pulled her closer in response and placed a very slow, very gentle kiss on her forehead. Erin couldn’t tell what the tension she felt from him was about. All she knew was that having him with her was right and safe. She didn’t want him to leave. She was desperate for the connection she had been trying to avoid.
Chapter Five
Marcus was so conflicted as he held Erin on her couch. He kept reminding himself to be there for comfort only, no matter how beautiful she was or how soft she felt in his arms. But God, she was so enticing. In her simple favorite cotton pants and tank, he could see her toned physique.
Her strong shoulders, covered only by a thin strap, led down to perfectly round breasts and a delicate, slim waist. Her barely-curved hips added to her slender, lithe look. Her legs were long and lean. In spite of her obvious tone and physical strength, she maintained a slight, delicate appeal.
Her hair smelled like strawberries, adding to the sweet, feminine sensation of her. There in his arms, she was beyond tempting. He was content to hold her as long as she needed, but he couldn’t help but want to kiss her tears away.
He found himself caressing her without meaning to. The touch was originally meant to comfort her, but he could barely mask his attraction when his hands moved slowly against her. One hand moved over her almost-bare shoulder and the heat from their skin-to-skin contact was intense.
He didn’t want to scare her and he forced himself to maintain his control enough to not move beyond what he had already dared. But then, damn, her hand moved along his body and up to his neck. The heat from her hand was just as overpowering as his. He was forced to use his practiced self-control to keep from moaning at her touch.
He had no idea what to expect or what she wanted this to lead to, but he knew that everything had to be completely under her control. He would not let her feel like a victim with him. She was too important, too fragile. She needed him right then, and he wouldn’t let her down.
He relaxed his hold on her slightly, and let her have whatever she needed from him. He felt her hand move to his face and he felt her hesitantly allowing herself to experience him. She never looked at him, though. That bothered him. He didn’t want her to hide. He wanted her to see from him that she had nothing to fear, so he gently lifted her chin up in order to look into her striking green eyes. He saw how she looked at him and his heart broke.
She was so nervous and wide-eyed. She had been so scared for so long that she didn’t know how to be with him any other way. Still, her eyes showed a determination to conquer her fear.
“Erin,” he said warmly and quietly. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to. I’m just here to make sure you’re ok. That’s it.”
“I know,” she said quietly, looking down again. Almost silently she added, “I’m glad you’re here.”
They sat for a long while after that, still quietly holding each other tightly. Erin sometimes allowed her hand to shyly explore Marcus’s chest. A few times she let her fingers intertwine with his. She watched his hand rest on her arm so tenderly.
All the attraction she felt toward him through his notes paled in comparison to the sensation of being next to him. She appreciated every part of him. She was wrapped not only in his arms, but also in his entire being.
This was her best friend, confidant, comedian, protector, and now also the physical shoulder to cry on. He was everything and he was safe. Butterflies danced wildly in her chest in reaction to his arms.
A sense of confidence came to her in that moment. There was no fear with Marcus. There was only comfort, friendship, and insane attraction. She knew he felt it, too. The energy in is touch was too powerful for this to attraction to be one way.
She focused on the months of getting to know him and found within herself a strength she hadn’t expected.
“Marcus?” she almost whispered.
“Yeah?”
“I think I want to kiss you,” she whispered with as much confidence as she could. How awkward. She hadn’t been on a date in over five years. She was pretty sure asking to be kissed wasn’t standard. However, she knew without a doubt that he would never kiss her without her permission anyway. So why not ask?
Marcus nearly shouted in triumph over her shy statement. He knew she hadn’t so much as hugged anyone in years, and yet she trusted him enough to allow him to hold her. Now she wanted to kiss him. His heart pounded so loud he was sure she could feel the vibrations from his chest.
He wanted to kiss her so badly he could jump out of his skin. However, there was no way to kiss her like he wanted to without scaring her away. He knew how emotionally fragile she was. No matter how badly he wanted to part her lips with his own and find himself passionately lost in her mouth, he wouldn’t. Not yet.
He was determined to make her first kiss since that awful night the most beautiful moment for her he could. He would make her feel nothing but sensual bliss. He tilted her chin up again and looked her in the eye. He half-smiled as he cupped her cheek in his hand. He felt her tremble slightly, so he placed a comforting kiss on her forehead first. Then he leaned in slightly, and brushed his thumb against her bottom lip.
Marcus very gently kissed her lips and held himself there, not moving for a long moment. He repeated the soft touch again, then leaned back resting his head on the couch. He pulled her head against his chest, proud of his personal restraint.
He continued to rub her cheek with his thumb while his other hand supported her gently around her waist. He leaned his cheek down on her head and heard her speak something softly. He couldn’t understand what she said.
“I didn’t hear you, Erin. Will you say that again?”
“I said that was beautiful, but that sounds kind of lame.”
“No it doesn’t,” he said softly. Then his voice hinted at his playful sense of humor. “Beautiful is kind of what I was going for.”
Erin smiled at his comment and then relaxed against him and he forced his hands to stop moving against her skin. She deserved his patience, no matter how difficult.
After a long moment of comfortable, relaxed silence, Marcus spoke up.
“Erin, would you like to go have breakfast with me?”
“But I’m a mess…”
“It doesn’t matter. I know a great little greasy spoon diner near my place. Messy is practically a pre-requisite.”
“Um, I guess so. Let me throw on some shorts. I’ll be right back.”
He watched as she walked toward the staircase and really enjoyed the view. He could see her round, perfectly-toned bottom as she walked up the steps. A moment later, he heard her door lock. That confirmed to him at how nervous she still was in spite of her trust in him. The sound of that little click steeled his resolve to go slowly with her.
He was blown away by this woman, and she had just agreed to breakfast. He smiled a bit while he waited for her. She came down in a light blue v-neck t-shirt and a pair of modest khaki shorts.
But no matter how modest, they couldn’t hide the perfection of her legs. Her calves and thighs added just enough curve to accent her thin ankles and slender hips. He tried not to be obvious with his staring.
“Ready?” he asked, smiling. “I have to apologize ahead of time for my car. It’s old and ugly, but it’s a tank and I love it. It’s a bit of a mess, so you’ll feel right at home.”
“Hey!” She actually let out a laugh at his teasing, just like his humor from the notebook. He walked to her and guided her gently toward the door with his hand at the small of her back. He couldn’t help but touch her again, and he was thrilled when she didn’t flinch or try to move away.
After she turned and locked her apartment, he walked her to his giant goldish-brown 1972 Oldsmobile Delta 88 and opened the door for her. The hinge creaked loudly and he rolled his eyes at his car. His tank wouldn’t impress her, but there was nothing he could do about that now.
“I like your car,” she said appreciatively. He was surprised by the genuine tone in her voice. Surely a professional, white-collar kind of person like her was used to a degree of luxury. He figured she would be uncomfortable or unimpressed at his junker.
“You do?”
“Yeah. It’s got character. It seems to fit you.”
He half laughed. “I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment.”
“Definitely a compliment,” she smiled.
Erin relaxed into the bench seat of his huge car. This thing was massive and a little loud, but completely solid. She told him the car fit him, and she meant every word. Marcus and his car were both strong as a tank and straightforward, and both made her feel safe. He drove the twenty minutes to his neighborhood and pointed out his gym as he drove by.
“That’s where I train,” he told her. His voice had no hint of bragging, though he had a lot to brag about. His body proved that he worked hard at that gym, but he wasn’t boastful. His statement was one of simple fact, and his attitude toward himself made her appreciate him even more. There was absolutely no pretense about him. What you see is what you get.
“You must spend a lot of time there.”
Crap, why don’t you just call him a hunk
, she thought to herself, embarrassed at her statement.
He kind of laughed. “Yeah. That’s my home. I mean, I don’t live there or anything. It’s just where I feel like I belong.”
Erin was surprised again. He kept himself surrounded by violence, but then again, that’s what he was accustomed to. Her heart broke for him.
Marcus pulled up to a little hole in the wall called Wayward Diner and put the car in park. The place was shabby, but obviously clean. The proprietor behind the counter smiled warmly at Marcus and greeted him by name. Other men and a few women waved to him, as well. He was obviously well liked here. That part didn’t surprise her at all.
“Who’s this pretty thing,” the aging man asked with a smile. Erin blushed at his statement.