Page 6 of Marc (Men of Forbidden Temptation #2)

STACI

Sex dreams are the best.

Especially when you wake up to an orgasm.

That’s how I woke up this morning. It wasn’t from the birds chirping or the sunlight shining through the curtains.

It was from the very erotic dream I had of Marc.

If real life Marc is half as good as dream Marc, then it’s a shame I stopped things last night.

I stretch my muscles and pull the cover over me, feeling more rested than I have in years. Marc’s guest bed is as soft as a cloud and the security of knowing I was safe led to me having a solid night of sleep- after I left Marc to his workout.

Getting dressed, I decide to keep Marc’s shirt on before throwing on my shorts. His shirt swallows me whole, so I use my hairband and tie the shirt on the side.

I quietly walk towards the kitchen to not wake up Marc, letting my bare feet sink into the lush carpet of the hallway.

Looking through the cabinets, I can’t seem to find the coffee maker. I look through the bottom cabinets as well as the pantry but come up empty.

“Who in their right mind doesn’t drink coffee?” I mumble to myself.

A gentle laugh behind me gets my attention. Turning around, I see that Marc’s hair is wet; he must have just gotten out of the shower.

He looks good. He’s shirtless, like last night, and his muscles ripple with every movement. His lounge shorts hang dangerously low on his hips, leaving me craving to see more.

I almost forget what I am looking for before he got my attention.

“I don’t like the bitter taste of coffee, so I have no need for coffee.” Marc shrugs at my shocked expression.

“What gives you your jolt in the morning?”

There is no way I can function properly without coffee. Coffee is the elixir of my life.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Marc gives me a wink that has me blushing bright red.

The image of him masturbating in the shower clouds my brain and turns my inside to goo.

“I’m just kidding!” Marc says, interrupting my fantasy. “I usually have a protein shake and head to the gym, but today, I am going to cook us a great breakfast before we head to the studio.”

Marc gets out all the ingredients to cook a large breakfast. He places the carton of eggs down on the counter before grabbing a pack of bacon from the bottom drawer in the refrigerator. He grabs the loaf of bread out of the pantry and places it next to the toaster.

When he bends over to get the frying pan out of the lower cabinet, my gaze immediately stares at his firm ass and sculpted thighs.

Marc really is the full package. He makes me feel safe and protected. He turns me into putty with one look, and his kisses can bring me to orgasm.

Not to mention he’s sexy as sin.

He stands up, turns back around, and sees me checking him out.

“What can I do?” I immediately offer to help with breakfast to get the conversation off me ogling Marc.

“You’re my guest.” He retorts.

“So? That doesn’t mean I can’t help.”

What does me being a guest have to do with helping?

As if reading my mind, he chuckles.

“In my family, we have a funny yet weird saying. At first you are a guest, then a pest, and finally family.”

That doesn’t make any sense.

I squint my eyes and try to fit the pieces to this puzzle together but come up short. “Huh?”

“So, the first time someone comes over, you treat them like a guest. You cater to them, so to speak, and don’t accept their help with anything, including cooking and cleaning.”

When I nod, he continues.

“The second time, they are a pest. We will cater to you, but we might huff and puff a little. After that, you are family, and you can get everything your own damn self.”

I laugh harder than I have in a long time. It takes me a while to catch my breath. “Oh, I love that! Who came up with that?”

“My mom. She was joking about always having to cater to our friends and one day she declared that they were all family because they had been to our house more than twice.”

Marc smiles at the memory.

“That is hilarious yet endearing. She knew your friends were close like siblings, so she made them honorary members of the family.”

It must have been awesome to grow up with a mom like that.

That isn’t how my childhood was. Sure, I had friends, but no one was allowed to come over. My parents were strict, and I knew better than to ask if I could have friends over.

“So, that is why I am cooking for you and cannot accept your help.” Marc chuckles as if another thought or memory popped into his mind.

“Fine, but only one more time and then I can help.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I think about the future. Will I be here two more times to be classified as family?

Do I even want to?

Yes.

The answer pops into my head before I can even finish the question.

I love being around Marc. He is like a ray of sunshine in my dark and cloudy life. He gives me hope I can truly be happy again.

Not to mention the panty melting kiss from last night. I definitely want to have a repeat of that, but I should probably deal with Jared first.

While I am having an internal argument with myself, Marc fries the eggs, cooks the bacon, toasts the bread, and plates it all.

“Thank you.” I say shyly.

How long was I having my internal battle?

Long enough for him to cook breakfast. He must think I am weird to not talk to him that long.

How rude of me to continue this internal debate.

I take a bite of bacon, so he doesn’t think I am rude. “Mmm. This is so good.”

“Thanks.” He takes a bite into his own bacon.

We eat in silence for a few moments before Marc clears his throat.

“I think we should continue this fake relationship.”

That is not what I expected him to say, but my heart leaps in my chest at the thought of being in a relationship with Marc.

“What? ”

Marc puts his bacon back down on his plate and looks me in my eyes.

“Your ex-husband is going to continue making your life a living hell until he knows you have truly moved on. To make him believe you have truly moved on, you need a boyfriend and since he thinks we are already a couple, I think we should continue it.”

Yes. Do it.

My heart wants this more than I should.

When I don’t say anything, Marc continues. “You know I won’t take advantage of you. Plus, if I do get this new contract, I will be around you more so I can protect you at the studio.”

He does make some valid points. I did sleep very well last night knowing he was nearby. Maybe this could work out.

“What will we tell people?” How will we explain it to other models and staff?

“They don’t need to know, but if you want to say something, we can tell them it’s very new. We can just take it day by day and see what happens. After all, that is what happens in a real relationship.”

Marc seems indifferent to either choice, which leaves me relieved that he’s not putting pressure on me right now to decide.

“That sounds very reasonable. What about dates, hanging out, and sleepovers? You know, like things that happen in real relationships.” I ask before adding, “What are the rules? ”

“Rules?” He asks before grinning. “I think you are overthinking things. Let it be natural.”

“Every relationship, real or fake, has to have rules. Like, for instance, I will only date you. There will be no other guys that I show interest in. If for some reason the situation changes, and I find myself wanting to get to know another man…”

I pause as I see Marc’s expression change from excitement to less than thrilled.

I feel guilty, so I add, “Don’t worry, that is highly unlikely as I am not looking for a relationship, but if something were to happen, I would discuss it with you first.”

Did the kiss last night ruin our friendship?

Did he think we were going to jump into a relationship?

I know I jumbled my thoughts and can only hope he can piece it together and really understand what I am trying to relay.

Marc’s usual casual expression returns to his face. “I don’t know what kind of relationships you are used to, but when I date a woman, I only date her. There is no one else.”

“Well, I know you are much younger than me, and I know how your peers like to date multiple people at a time. What is it they call it? Keeping their options open?”

I hear the other models, both guys and gals, talking about it in the studio. At first, I was shocked, but now I am used to hearing it. Times are changing .

“Well, call me old school because my mom raised me right and taught me how to treat a woman. I would never disrespect you, or any other woman, like that.”

Marc’s gaze locks with mine, and I know he is telling the truth.

“Okay, then, let’s do this, but what about affection? Do we need to play it up in public?”

Can my heart actually stand to kiss Marc and pretend that I don’t feel anything towards him?

“One day at a time.” Marc says. “Now eat up. We have to get to the studio.”

We finish eating and true to his words, Marc doesn’t allow me to help.

He rinses off the dishes and loads them into the dishwasher before disappearing into his room to get dressed.

I head to the guest bedroom and quickly make the bed before throwing my shirt into my purse. I slip my feet into my boots and give the room a once over. Surprisingly, I think I am going to miss this room and the girly curtains.

Marc and I head to the garage at the same time.

Marc looks surprised at my outfit. “You’re wearing my shirt?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Is that okay? I don’t have a spare shirt.”

Shit. I should have just worn my shirt from yesterday.

“It is more than okay. I love seeing you in my shirt.” Marc unlocks the car doors and slides into the driver's seat as I slide into the passenger seat.

I mull over his comment.

Does he really like me in his shirt or was he just saying that because we had a moment last night and this is what I was wearing?

Or is it because we are fake dating?

I have a feeling this fake relationship is going to confuse my feelings even more than just working with him does.

Breaking the comfortable silence, Marc asks, “So, what is on the agenda today?”

“Another photoshoot.” I tease, knowing he wanted more details.

The corners of his eyes crinkle as he grins.

“Oh, really? I had no clue.” He replies sarcastically.

“Today is the new resort line’s swimsuit photoshoot. Do they really not tell you what kind of photoshoot it is?”

How can they expect models to come prepared if they don’t even know what they are wearing or what the photoshoot’s objective is?

“Nah. They just tell us a date, time, and address. The rest is a mystery until we see the set and clothes.”

Marc shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“I never knew that. Doesn’t that bother you?”

I, personally, would want to know before I show up so I can be better prepared .

“It used to, but then I learned to come prepared for anything. Be shaved, tanned, and looking hot.”

Marc glances my way and gives me a wink.

He definitely always comes looking hot.

Over the months, I have watched as he put on more muscles than I thought was humanly possible, making me crave to have his large arms wrapped around me.

I have watched as he came out of his shell and befriended the other models, even offering advice to the newbies.

“Work sweet work.” Marc says, bringing me out of my daydream.

Looking around, I see he parked in the same spot as yesterday, right next to my car.

“Thanks for the ride and for letting me crash at your house.” I know I have said it before, but I want him to know just how thankful I am for his kindness.

Who knows what would have happened if Marc wasn’t around last night. I shudder as my mind shows me several situations that don't end well.

“Anytime.” He says as we walk through the back door.

He heads to the makeup station, and I head to the computer.

Like yesterday, I turn on the computer and load the program before fixing the muslin backdrop. I switch my camera batteries and charge the one I used yesterday .

Typically, I get everything ready for the next day, but last night wasn’t a typical night.

Since today is a swimsuit day, the models need extra time to prepare. Not only do their faces need to look flawless, but their entire chest and abs do as well.

Once my equipment is set up and ready for the first model, I walk over to the coffee bar that is next to the couches and make a very strong hot cup of coffee.

Without waiting for it to cool down, I take a gulp, wincing as it burns my tongue.

“Fuck, that is hot.” I mumble to myself.

A few chuckles come from the models waiting for their turn at the makeup station.

I look over at the clothing racks and see that resort swimsuits look like dress shorts for the water.

Running my hand through them, I feel the silkiness of the material. It’s pretty smart to make them out of quick dry fabric. I see that each pair of trunks comes with a matching button up short-sleeve shirt.

This gives me options to have some models with their shirt on and some without their shirt on. Looking at the tag inside the shirt, I see that this material says it is also non-staining, so the guys shouldn’t have to wash off the oil before throwing the shirt on.

With nothing else going on, I sit in my chair at the computer and watch as Kat gets the models ready.

My gaze immediately goes to Marc. It seems like I always gravitate to him. I watch as the bubbly assistant, Kat, rubs oil all over him.

Emotion seems to bubble up inside me. Am I feeling jealous?

Staring at the two of them, I see him smile as she laughs at whatever he says.

Yep.

I am totally feeling jealous.

It makes sense since the two of us shared a very intimate kiss last night, but that was against the rules and I should probably forget it ever happened.

Adam’s voice brings my attention back to this side of the studio. “Where do you want me, boss?”

“In the middle. I’ll take some shots of just you and then other models can join in as they finish getting ready.”

Standing up, I make my way to the camera as Adam gets settled into his first pose.

I snap a few photos before he changes it up.

Adam seems extra flirty today. I can’t complain because it is making my life so much easier.

“You flirting with the camera is making these photos perfect!” I comment loud enough for him to hear.

“All for you.” He gives me a wink.

Wait, what?

Is he actually flirting with me or is it just for the photoshoot?

Either way, he doesn’t excite me or turn me on like Marc does.