Page 106 of Men of Fort Dale: The Complete Series

And the fact that he looked stupidly good in a pair of thin shorts as he dripped sauce on his bare chest helped.

Marco looked up, catching his gaze and squinting. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Behave while I’m trying to eat,” Marco scolded, eyes twinkling.

“I’m saving it for later.”

“Please don’t eat old sauce off your chest.”

“No, I meant for you to lick off later.”

Carter choked on his noodles, grabbing a bottle of water and downing half of it to clear his throat.

Marco laughed at the sight, even as Carter gave him a death glare.

It was impossible to hold, though, as he realized he was hearing the sound he had missed when he was too far away from Marco in the club.

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 that he had 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 hear what you 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 dangerous to me .”

“You’d be the first person to think that,” Carter said with a dark look. “Even the bar sluts don’t stick around for long.”

Marco laughed. “Hey, once upon a time, I was a bar slut. Be nice to them, they’re stressed and horny.”

“I’m not mean to them,” Carter grumbled.

Marco smiled. “No, I’m sure you’re not. Grumpy, but not mean.”

Carter rolled his eyes as Marco chuckled and closed his own eyes. It was more than a little unnerving that Marco had figured out what had been nagging him even though Carter thought he hadn’t given anything away.

People were shitty toward him. Other than some of the teammates he’d had in the past who’d grown used to him or got to know him, most people dismissed him as trouble or an asshole.

If he were to be fair, those weren’t unfair statements.

He did seem to find trouble, had ever since he was a kid and had to fight some of the local punks and wannabe thugs who thought he would be a good target.

And he didn’t think he’d find too many people, even the ones who were used to him and maybe liked him, who would disagree about him being an asshole.

Yet here was this man, who shouldn’t have been any different than the rest, who didn’t see things that way. If anything, Carter suspected Marco liked his grumpiness. He would bet the smile Marco gave him sometimes was because he thought Carter was cute.

“I’m not cute,” Carter muttered.

“Nope,” Marco said back. “You’re very manly. Practically overflowing with rich, dark masculinity.”

Carter scowled, swatting Marco’s leg. “I’m not fucking stupid. I know when you’re making fun of me.”

Marco yelped, sitting up to rub his leg and frown. “I know you’re not stupid. Because, yes, I was making fun of you. Because you are cute.”

“Fuck you,” Carter hissed.

“What, again? I might need more time to recover. Been a while, and I need to warm up,” Marco said, grinning wickedly.

And just like that, Carter felt his annoyance drain away at the man’s mischief. There was something so compelling about witnessing the nice man become a little shit, or rather, a horny little shit, at the drop of a hat.

Marco leaned forward before Carter could do much more than feel his darkness threaten to stir to life. When he kissed Carter, it was warm and gentle, and Carter could feel the curve of the man’s lip as he smiled against his mouth.

“Maybe you’re not cute in the puppy and kitten kind of way, but I think you’re cute,” Marco murmured.

“Shit judgment,” Carter repeated, feeling a little lightheaded.

“Well, I’m about to show even worse judgment because I think it’s time to go to bed. And if you’d like, you can spend the night with me. I warn you, though, I expect cuddles,” Marco said as he slid off Carter’s lap, leaving it feeling cool in his absence.

Carter glanced at the loft and resisted the urge to look at the door since he knew Marco was watching him. There was a weight in the air, as though whatever he said or did next would carry a great deal of power behind it.

He didn’t like that, didn’t like the importance of his next action. Give him a target, a threat on the horizon, and a teammate to back up. He didn’t know how to weigh this moment with Marco or why he suddenly hated the idea of leaving, knowing it would probably upset Marco.

Marco’s feelings shouldn’t have mattered. He wasn’t different from anyone Carter had been with before—or at least he shouldn’t have been.

And yet.

“Whatever,” Carter grunted, pushing himself upright. “Probably better since little guys like you are always bedhogs.”

“You’re the expert on that, huh?” Marco asked, eyes glowing again as he led the way to the loft stairs.

Carter shrugged. “I’ve had little guys on my team before. They’re always the ones who steal space when you’ve gotta share sleeping quarters. It’s like you idiots have to make up for being short.”

“We’re idiots because we’re short?” Marco asked as he flipped on a low light.

“No, you’re idiots because you...have to take up so much room,” Carter murmured, hesitating as he took in the space.

Where the rest of the apartment was wide open and spacious, Marco had gone out of his way to make this room as cozy as possible.

The bed was big. The mattress lowered into a frame with walls extending above it, making it seem like a comfy pit.

A soft rug had been spread over just about every inch of the floor, and thick, black curtains hung over the gaps that would have allowed them to see into the rest of the apartment.

“Huh,” Carter said, unsure how to respond to what he saw.

Marco stopped at the edge of the bed, frowning at him. “What?”

Carter shook his head. “I don’t know. This just...seems like you, now that I think about it.”

“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment,” Marco chuckled, pulling back the blankets and letting himself flop onto the mattress.

“Wasn’t meaning it as an insult,” Carter huffed.

Marco grabbed his shorts by the waistline and shoved them off, kicking them to the floor. “I know.”

Carter hesitated as Marco shifted around the bed, completely unaware of the show he was putting on or ignoring it.

Carter suspected it was more the former than the latter.

At first, Carter had thought Marco wasn’t aware of how good he looked, but he felt it was more that the man didn’t care, that he was utterly indifferent to his looks.

That was a confidence Carter could respect, and he could appreciate watching every inch of Marco’s skin on display as he made himself comfortable.

“Coming?” Marco asked, looking up.

“Something like that,” Carter muttered.

Marco looked down, spotting the half-hard tent in Carter’s shorts. “Well, you definitely could be if you get down here.”

Carter snorted, pushing his shorts off. “Charming.”

Marco’s eyes swept his body, and Carter knew then that while the man might have been playing before, he suddenly wasn’t anymore. When he approached the bed, Marco turned the light off beside the bed and pulled Carter down to him.

Minutes later, after searching through a dark drawer in Marco’s bedside table for supplies, Carter pushed himself inside the man again.

It was slower this time, their passion and need tempered.

Marco could cling to him this time, but the grip around Carter’s cock was still tight enough to be just shy of painful.

When they came, it was together. Carter felt his orgasm approaching fast, and he knew he wanted it while listening to Marco’s cries.

The other man didn’t disappoint when Carter wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked him to his steady strokes.

Warmth pooled over his fingers as Marco came hard, and he came just as strongly as he buried himself one last time, just shy of gasping out the other man’s name.

After they cleaned up, Marco rolled over without hesitation and laid his head on Carter’s chest. Even more inexplicably, the man sighed contentedly as he wrapped an arm around Carter’s middle.

It felt ridiculously long before Carter curled his arm around Marco’s back.

With the other, he held onto the wrist of the arm wrapped around his middle and marveled at how easily his fingers circled Marco’s wrist. Despite their obvious size difference, Marco seemed somehow larger than that.

But lying in the dark, feeling how easily Marco fit against him and how fragile the bones in his wrist were in his big hands, Carter felt a shiver run through him.

“Going to be here in the morning?” Marco asked, voice quiet and rough with drowsiness.

“Probably not,” Carter winced, quick to amend his statement. “Gonna have to check back in at the base early. Don’t need them thinking I’m in jail again.”

“Mkay,” Marco murmured.

The silence stretched long enough that Carter thought Marco had fallen asleep. That was, until the man’s quiet voice, barely distinguishable in his sleepy tone, rose in the darkness again.

“Don’t have to stay. But hope I hear from you again.”

Carter closed his eyes at that, forcing himself to take a deep breath. Even he could hear the hope in Marco’s voice before sleep finally took him, his breathing becoming deep and even.

He had no idea what the hell he had done to earn this sort of trust and affection from a man who barely knew him.

He had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do with it.

How could he possibly be the sort of person Marco thought he was?

And if Carter was honest, who he believed Marco deserved to have.

He never knew how long he lay there, listening to Marco’s soft breathing before sleep finally came for him.