Page 23

Okay. Shifting from him feeling awkward to me feeling awkward was an improvement, right?

“I just have to put this apron back and wash my hands,” I said, my voice coming out way too coiled and tight, then doubling my pace to practically sprint to the dressing room.

Marco waited as I cleaned up and double-checked to make sure Mrs. Reynolds was secure. He smiled at me when I returned to the hall and gestured for him to head up the carpeted staircase to my apartment.

“It’s really not much,” I said as I let him in, glancing around the place to make sure I hadn’t left anything weird or embarrassing on display, like a butt plug or prostate massager. I didn’t even own a prostate massager, but you never knew when one would suddenly materialize just to embarrass you in front of your crush.

“This place is cool,” Marco said as he glanced around, stepping deeper into the main room. “It’s got that kind of antique-y feeling, but without being all stuffy.”

“I like to collect things,” I said with a shrug.

I collected Victorian furniture, books, pre-Raphaelite artwork, and I still had the collection of dragon figurines I’d been really into as a teenager perched in various places around the apartment, like they owned the place instead of me. I couldn’t tell whether Marco was surprised by how light and airy my decorating scheme was or if he expected everything to be painted black and for me to have a coffin instead of a bed. He nodded as if he were impressed as he took in everything, at least.

“This is really nice,” he said. “How long did you say you’ve lived here again?”

“My parents actually let me move in when I was seventeen,” I explained. “Mom said I was mature enough to take care of my own space, and since she and Dad worked downstairs at all hours, I never felt like I was completely alone.”

“You weren’t alone,” Marco said, smiling again. “Not as long as you had people like Mrs. Reynolds downstairs.”

Again, my heart flipped in my chest. Most people stopped thinking of people as people once their soul left their body. They became something gross or a prop in horror fantasies. But of course Marco would still think of the dead as human.

I returned his smile, then realized I was smiling way too much for way too long without saying anything. I shook my head and turned to the kitchen. “I don’t have much in the fridge, but I can probably throw together something.”

“I’m not that picky,” Marco said as he followed me across the apartment. He laughed as I opened the fridge, then said, “That’s a lie. I’m super picky when it comes to food.”

I shut the fridge door without taking anything out. “Should we eat out, then? Or I could go over to your place to see how Polo and the ghosts are doing.”

Marco beamed. “Polo and the Ghosts. That would make a great band name.”

“Yeah, it would.”

God, everything about Marco was just so sweet and wonderful. He had the most brilliant imagination, and his endless positivity made me feel like I was actually worth his time. He didn’t leave me feeling like the town weirdo at all, not with the way he looked at me like he wanted to hug me and compose poetry for me and drop to his knees to suck my cock all at once.

That last thought sent a ripple of lust through me that I had a hard time convincing myself was inappropriate. The simple fact was that I wanted Marco, and I hadn’t wanted anyone for ages.

“Can I kiss you again?” I asked. At least I was gentlemanly enough to ask this time.

“You absolutely can,” Marco said breathlessly, his cheeks pinking.

I didn’t hesitate. I stepped into him, cupping the side of his face and reaching for his waist. He tilted his head up so our mouths could meet with passionate force. There was no holding back when I kissed Marco because he gave off astounding vibes of wanting everything I could give him. He was so eager, and his tongue was so curious. I forgot where we were and what my name was within seconds.

“I’ve been thinking,” he gasped, then kissed me again. “That I need to,” he went on, then resumed kissing. “Return the favor.”

I was too kiss-drunk and dizzy over how fast we’d gone from casual conversation to making out to register what he said. Which is why I let out a gasp as he shifted me to lean my backside against the kitchen counter, then dropped to his knees on the linoleum.

I made a sound of surprise as he raced through unbuckling my belt and making quick work of my trousers. They and my boxer briefs were down around my thighs before I could do more than grab the edge of the counter behind me with a white-knuckle grip. Part of my brain whispered that I should tell him he didn’t have to, but that part exploded to dust as Marco stroked me a few times then sucked the flared head of my cock into his mouth.

I was not in any way prepared for what the sweet man could do. Marco was sunshine and rainbow glitter. He was a teddy bear, but one with a powerful mouth. My knees gave out as he licked and suckled my tip, then bobbed down to take a surprising amount of my length all the way to his throat.

“Oh, god, Marco,” I gasped, instinctively grabbing a handful of his dark, curling hair with a too-tight grip.

That only encouraged him. He moaned as he bore down on me again, then choked slightly as his enthusiasm got the better of him. I was too gone to feel bad about his reaction. I made an uncontrolled sound of my own as he used his tongue to add to the sensation I was lost in.

It was only fair that I couldn’t hold out any longer than he had the other night. I barely had time to blurt out a sound that didn’t quite form into the words “I’m coming” as the intense pleasure of orgasm hit and had me thrusting. Marco was ready. He sucked and swallowed, turning what was already a great experience into the single best orgasm of my life. It went on and on, drowning me in ecstasy.

Ecstasy and adoration.

I didn’t ever want to let Marco go.