Page 1 of Marc (Men of Forbidden Temptation #2)

STACI

The scariest nightmare is one that continues even after you wake up.

But the worst feeling is knowing you are having a nightmare, and you can’t escape it. The only thing you can do is experience it as you once did in real time.

I pinch myself, hoping the pain brings me out of these horrible moments, but my mind is dead set on replaying the past as if it wants me to hold on to those memories.

My ex-husband’s work boots scrape against the hardwood flooring as he stalks toward me. A snarl comes from his throat as he bares his teeth and narrows his eyes.

Moving to the other side of our small two-person dining table, I hold my hands up in front of my chest as my back presses into the hole-filled wall .

“Stop! Please!” I beg him to turn around and leave me alone.

His large, calloused hand reaches across the tiny table and contacts my already swollen cheek, leaving it red and stinging once again.

Falling over from the impact, I crawl into the corner of the room and press myself into the side of the broken sectional couch, putting as much distance between us that I can.

He slurs his words, giving away his inebriated state. “Shut up, bitch.”

This isn’t the first time he’s come home in the middle of the night drunk and angry, but it is the first time that he’s thrown sentimental things.

Shards of glass litter the kitchen and living room, mixing with the crumbs of drywall that have become a permanent part of the tan carpet.

“You’re drunk. Why don’t you let me help you get into bed?” At his pointed glare, I add, “Or let me cook you dinner.”

“I said shut up, so shut up, bitch.” His tone is harsh, but I’ve gotten used to it over the past several months.

He turns his body towards me, looking more menacing than ever before. His eyes are black and soulless, and he squeezes his hands into tight fists. “What are you smirking at?”

My voice quakes as he slowly stomps towards me. “I-I’m not smirking.”

His steps falter, so I plead once again. “Please, let’s just go to bed. ”

The sooner I can get him to sleep, the sooner I can clean up his mess and pretend it never happened.

A twisted smile forms on his face, exposing his crooked canine teeth. “No. I want to stay up and enjoy this a bit longer.”

With nowhere to go, I shrink my body into a tight ball as much as I can as he slowly and with calculated movements makes his way over to me.

My body trembles as fear courses through my veins. I squeeze my eyes shut and pray this doesn’t last too long, just as his fist slams into the side of my head.

“Ah!” I scream as I wake up from my nightmare, immediately running my hands over my face to check for soreness that isn't there.

My heart pounds in the confines of my chest and sweat covers my entire body. Looking around, I let out a shaky breath when I verify I am alone in my bed in my new house.

Sunlight peeks through the sheer blue curtains that are hanging in front of my windows. Even with the blinds closed, I can tell it is already late in the day.

I let out a sigh of relief as I fall back onto my pillows. “I am safe and alone. It was just another nightmare.”

Turning my head towards my end table, I glance at the clock. A giant red 11:17 displays on the screen.

Considering it was almost four when I went to sleep, it’s not that late .

Groaning, I roll out of bed, fix my sheet and cover, and head into the kitchen to make a steaming cup of coffee.

I love how easy it is to just pop in the tiny pre-portioned cup of coffee and set it to my desired eight ounces before tapping the brew button.

Needing the caffeine as soon as possible, I gulp it down without sugar, and quickly get ready.

My shower is short since I am already way behind schedule. I choose comfort over style this morning to ease my post nightmare emotions, opting for a pair of denim shorts, t-shirt, and my favorite pair of summer ankle boots.

Not having time to really do my hair, I pull it up into a long ponytail before grabbing my purse and heading to my car.

Thankfully, I only live a few minutes from the studio and traffic is usually non-existent at this time of day.

I park in the only available parking spot which is around the back of the building in the narrow alley before rushing inside, whispering my apologies to everyone waiting.

Our make-up artist, Kat, is busy making sure the guys are flawless while her assistant is pairing khaki pants with silk polos.

Today's photoshoot is for a very popular clothing brand that has just released their first collection of men’s casual resort wear.

Nervousness turns my stomach because today’s photoshoot can make or break this new line and I am feeling more responsibility and pressure than ever before.

Khaki pants and polo shirts aren't my definition of casual. If I’m relaxing at a resort, I want to be comfortable in a sundress or linen shorts and a tank top.

The clothing might not be my cup of tea, but it helps pay the bills and since there are only three models, today should be pretty easy.

Laughter draws my attention to the back corner of the studio where the changing rooms are. An unexpected smile forms on my face as I see my favorite model, Marc, laughing at something Kat just said.

Marc is charismatic, kind, and flirtatious; not to mention extremely fit and attractive. He is everything my ex-husband isn’t, including younger than me.

I’m quickly approaching my thirty-third birthday and after some digging, I found out he is only twenty-four.

Sure, the age gap isn’t a deal breaker according to society’s standards, but I can’t imagine someone like Marc who has his whole life ahead of him choosing to be with a divorcee that continually has nightmares about her past.

If that isn’t enough to deter this fantasy relationship, I can always count on my moral compass to lead the way.

He is the client and completely off limits.

Shaking my head, I walk over to my standing desk and power on the computer. I don’t have time to think about fantasies. Right now, there is a lot I need to do to make sure I can get everything done early tonight so I don’t oversleep tomorrow.

While the computer is loading, I turn on the box lights, fix the white muslin backdrop, reposition my tripod, and attach my camera to the top.

Heading back over to the computer, I open the software program that is linked to the camera.

Remembering that I was supposed to grab the extra camera cable from home this morning, I mumble to myself. “Shit.”

It’s times like this that I am so grateful for bluetooth connectivity.

Changing the settings on my camera to connect wirelessly, I take a few photos to check the presets I have the camera set on.

Almost instantly, the photos pop up on the computer monitor. Walking back over to the desk, I look over them and see the settings are good.

Marc walks over to me and stands beside me. He smells amazing, as usual.

I glance over his attire and nod approvingly at his butt hugging white linen dress pants, light blue button up long sleeve shirt with the sleeves folded up his forearms, and dark brown leather flip flops.

His voice is like velvet. It’s smooth and alluring. “Is everything okay?”

My body melts as his hand lightly touches my arm. I want to confide in him and tell him all about my past and the recurring nightmares that I have been having since I left my ex-husband, but I don’t.

Instead, I lie. “Yeah. Everything is fine.”

He doesn’t need to be burdened with my issues.

I glance towards the models that are lounging on the couch and speak loud enough for everyone to hear. “Alright. Who’s first?”

A short, lanky guy walks towards me wearing a pair of khaki pants, a black short-sleeve button up, and brown dress shoes.

“Me. I’m Kelly.” He says softly while nervously looking around at the other models and running a hand through his shoulder length straight brown hair.

Noticing all the clear signs, I ask, “First time?”

“Is it that noticeable?” As his face turns light pink with embarrassment, he glances toward the ground.

I debate telling him I am just a good reader, but Marc cuts in.

“Don’t worry, man. Staci is the best.”

Marc’s praise causes a smile to form on my face.

Adam replies from the couch as he’s stuffing a Danish in his mouth. “She gives great pointers, too.”

How does he eat like that and look the way he does at the same time?

I give Kelly the pep talk that I have given many clients before.

“Just relax and enjoy today. There is only one first professional photo shoot and I promise when I am done, you will be happy with the way the pictures come out.”

Walking alongside him over to the backdrop, I position him in the center as Marc joins Adam on the couch.

Once I am settled behind the camera, I bend over to shorten the legs on the tripod since Kelly is a lot shorter than Adam and Marc.

Looking through the lens, Kelly’s posture seems stiff.

“Try putting your left hand in the pants pocket,” I suggest.

Kelly does as he is told, but he still looks awkward.

“Hmm. Maybe untuck the shirt.” I take a couple of shots before deciding to change my approach.

Walking over to Kelly, I whisper to him, “Close your eyes.”

I wait for him to do as I said before continuing, “Think of something that makes you happy, like really happy. The happiest that you have ever been.”

After a moment, I walk back to the camera. “Okay, hold on to that memory and open your eyes.”

As soon as Kelly opens his eyes, I take more shots, smiling as I capture a couple of fantastic ones.

“Great job. Those are perfect!” I know once I do the slight edits, they will look even better.

As elation crosses his face, I look over to the couch where Marc and Adam are deep in conversation.

Adam is wearing a thin coral long sleeve button-up shirt, pair of white shorts, and white flip flops. His look is very similar to Marc’s except he is wearing shorts whereas Marc is wearing pants.

They even style their hair the same with the top being spikey. Marc has deep black hair while Adam has sandy blond hair.