Page 270

Story: Men of Fort Dale

And it was every bit as rich and loud as he thought it would be. Marco’s eyes lit up as he settled back onto the couch. His movements were easy as he scooped more food into his mouth, smirking at Carter.

It occurred to him then thathehad done that. He had made Marco laugh because he’d choked on his food at his stupid joke. But Marco was relaxed because of him. Hell, Marco was actually relaxed being around him.

“You’re fucking weird,” Carter muttered.

“Yeah,” Marco said, stretching his legs out like a cat and placing them on Carter’s lap. “But I’m kind of okay with that.”

Carter glared down at the man’s bare legs. “Am I a leg rest now?”

“Best looking one in the house,” Marco said as he poked around the container in his hand for scraps.

Carter rolled his eyes, setting his empty container to the side. Without thinking, he wrapped a hand around one of Marco’s ankles, gripping it to feel the shift of muscle and bone beneath his fingers. The other he placed on one of Marco’s thighs just above the knee, running his thumb over the fine hairs.

Marco hummed happily, slapping his container onto the table beside him, settling back onto the couch, and closing his eyes. Carter watched with mild disbelief. Most guys were perfectly happy to let Carter fuck them on the nearest surface. The rest were perfectly happy to take him back to their house or a hotel room, have their fun, and then scoot out the door as soon as they saw the chance.

That arrangement worked just fine for Carter. After all, most of those guys were little more than pretty faces with good asses. Not that Marco didn’t have those things as well. He was also cheerful, friendly, helpful, and ridiculously nice. And for whatever stupid reason, he seemed to like being around Carter.

“I can hear you thinking,” Marco said softly without opening his eyes.

“Who says I’m thinking?”

“I do.”

“Then what am I thinking.”

“I didn’t say I could hearwhatyou were thinking.”

Carter scowled, pinching Marco’s thigh lightly. “I was thinking you’re a fucking weirdo.”

“We established that already,” Marco said, kicking his leg out with a grunt. “Quit, I’m ticklish.”

“I knew you were one of those ‘gets off on danger’ people,” Carter said before he could think about it.

Marco cracked open an eye, searching Carter’s face and grunting, closing it again. “Ah, okay. That makes sense.”

“What makes sense?”

“That’s what you’re thinking about.”

“I thought you didn’t know what I was thinking about.”

“Didn’t. Now I do.”

Carter rolled his eyes. “You’re annoying when you’re like this. I want you to know that.”

Marco stretched out, and Carter was hypnotized by his muscles shifting beneath beautifully bronzed skin. “And who’s to blame for that?”

Carter shook his head. “You going to tell me what you think I’m thinking about?”

“Mm,” Marco hummed. “I think you’re so used to people treating you like shit that you try not to let people like those women, Mrs. Palmer or Sloane get to you. But it also means you have no idea why the hell I would want to hang around with you.”

Carter narrowed his eyes. “I just said. You get off on the danger.”

“No, I got off because you practically fucked me through a wall. You’re not dangerous,” Marco said as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

Carter scowled. “I am dangerous.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Marco said, gently rubbing his leg against Carter’s lap. “I’m sure you’re highly trained and deadly in a fight. But that doesn’t make you dangerousto me.”

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