Kate Hoffmann - Marcus

“How did that go?”

“She wants me to come home. She’s getting a divorce from her fourth husband and she needs someone to be there to tell her how young and beautiful she looks.”

“Are you going to go?”

Eden nodded. “I really should. Now that I’ve settled things with my father, I should try to make things better with her. After seeing you with your mother, I realized that my relationships with my parents are really messed up. And part of that is my fault.”

Marcus nodded, knowing that it would be foolish to disagree. He couldn’t keep her here forever, like some pretty bird in a cage. They both had to face reality. “When are you leaving?”

She shrugged. “Friday afternoon.” Eden wrapped her arms around his neck. “Are you going to be sad to see me go?”

Marcus shook his head. “Not at all. I’ve got six or seven women who’ve been dying to crawl into my bed. I’ll just ring one of them up and they’ll be over in a flash.”

She opened her mouth in mock surprise, then slapped his chest. “And not one of them could make you feel the way I make you feel.”

“I’m not sure of that,” Marcus said, spanning her waist with his hands. Before she could protest, he captured her mouth, kissing her deeply. She sank into him, her hips pressed against his. His passion surged and suddenly he needed to have her, right then and there.

The clock was ticking, and every minute that passed was one less that they’d spend together. He didn’t want to bother with seduction or foreplay. His brain screamed with the need to bury himself deep inside of her and forget all the confusion she’d caused him.

Reaching down, Marcus grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and yanked it over her head, breaking the kiss for just a heartbeat before resuming his assault on her mouth. His hand smoothed over her body as he tried to memorize every detail, the sweet hollow at the base of her spine, the gentle curve of her neck and the soft swell of her breasts.

Frantic to possess her, Marcus ripped off his own shirt and tossed it aside, then unbuttoned his jeans. With a wicked laugh, Eden reached down to touch him, but he grabbed her hand and pulled it away.

“Don’t,” he warned.

She seemed stunned by the ferocity in his voice but then nodded her assent. He skimmed the skirt over her hips, and a moment later she was completely naked. No matter how much he touched her, he couldn’t seem to get close enough. There was only one way.

Grabbing her waist, he wrapped her legs around his hips and carried her over to the old oak table. Marcus set her down on the edge, then gently pushed her back. His hands slid beneath her thighs, drawing them up, and he stood between her legs and stared down at her body.

There would be a last time for this, for them. The thought banged inside his brain like an alarm bell. How was he supposed to live without this? He unzipped his jeans and tugged his boxers down. His erection brushed against her belly.

He didn’t want to bother with a condom and he didn’t care about the consequences. Every other barrier had fallen between them and he wanted to rid himself of this one, as well. Marcus needed to feel every inch of her surrounding him, but he knew it wasn’t his choice. With a soft groan, he bent over to kiss her. “I have to go get-”

“No,” she murmured. Eden reached down and guided him to her damp entrance. “It’s all right. I want it this way.”

He held his breath, then pressed against her. She was hot and tight, and the sensation of entering her was nearly enough to push him over the edge. Eden arched back on the table, moaning softly as he began to move. Marcus let his gaze drop and he watched himself disappear inside her again and again. The sight added to the pleasure, like an erotic movie winding out before him. He rubbed his thumb against her clitoris, and Eden cried out, her hands gripping the edge of the oak table, her eyes closed.

He knew he wouldn’t last long, but it didn’t matter. He wanted to be buried inside her and let his orgasm consume him. The tension began to build, a wonderful discomfort that promised an explosive release. He gave himself over to the feelings, and when Eden tightened around him, Marcus knew it was time.

Her spasms closed in on him and he drove into her once more, burying himself to the hilt. And then it was there, washing over him like a warm rain, soothing nerves that were on fire. It seemed to last forever, surge after surge of pleasure.

His knees went weak and he braced his hands on the table, leaning against it as he caught his breath. It had happened so quickly, yet the satisfaction was just as intense.

Eden stretched her arms above her head and groaned lazily, a contented smile on her face. When she opened her eyes, they were still glazed, as if she hadn’t quite returned to reality. Marcus didn’t move, anxious to stay connected as long as he could.

She smiled at him and pushed up on her elbows. “What was that about?” she murmured.

He shrugged. “I don’t know.” In truth, he wasn’t sure how to explain himself-he had merely followed his instincts. “You’re so beautiful. Sometimes I just have to have you.”

Eden reached out, and he wove his fingers through hers, drawing her up into his embrace. “How am I ever going to do without this?” she asked, her lips pressed against his chest.

“Don’t leave.” The instant he said the words Marcus wanted to take them back. But they were easier to say than the other words rattling around in his head. I love you. That’s what he’d wanted to say because that’s what he felt. For the first time in his life he was sure, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to tell her.

“I thought you wanted me to go. You kept-”

“I know what I said, Eden.”

“And now you don’t want me to-”

“No,” he said. “You’re right. You need to go. This is starting to get a little too comfortable for me.”

“And that’s not a good thing?”

He shook his head. “No, that’s definitely not a good thing.”

She nuzzled his chest, her breath warm against his skin. “This was supposed to be fun. If we get all serious, it will just be ruined.”

Marcus ran his fingers through her hair, brushing it back from her face. Though he’d like to believe in love at first sight, he knew that the chances of making that kind of relationship last-hell, any kind of relationship-were fifty-fifty at best. And though it would be difficult to say goodbye to Eden, it would be far more difficult to let himself love her only to lose her later.

This was for the best, her leaving. He’d just have to keep telling himself that until he believed it.

EDEN DIPPED THE BRUSH into the bottle of pink nail polish and carefully painted her big toe. She glanced up at Marcus, who was comfortably stretched out on the other end of the sofa, a sketch pad resting in his lap.

He had one more design to complete for her father’s commission and had been worrying over it all day long. But she sensed his preoccupation was more about her leaving tomorrow than about his work.

They’d made an agreement when they’d first met that they would enjoy each other and then move on-and they certainly had enjoyed each other. Eden had never been one to stay too long at the party. Things were always so ugly when they turned the lights on.

She sighed softly and went back to her pedicure. Over the past few days, they’d settled into an odd type of domestic bliss. Eden imagined that newly married couples spent their evenings in much the same sort of mundane pursuits-watching a game show on television, cooking spaghetti, making love on the kitchen floor.

But the more she’d come to enjoy playing house with Marcus, the more restless she’d become. It was simple to ignore what was going on in the outside world when she was wrapped up in his life. Though they spent fabulous nights, and sometimes entire afternoons, in bed, outside of their sexual attraction, she felt…confused.