My lips. He was talking about the color of my lips.
“Where?” he asked, and it took me a second to register that he was asking where I wanted the hickey.
I fluttered my fingertips along the right side of my neck, too filled with anticipation to even speak.
“I feel like a vampire,” he muttered just before he ducked his head and pressed his hot mouth against my cool skin. The shock of it was almost enough to knock me off my feet. I grabbed on to the lapels of his jacket, clutching him tightly. He sucked my skin delicately. That was never going to leave a mark.
“Harder,” I told him breathlessly.
He used his hand to press me against his mouth, and the other went to my waist so that I was flush against him. He did as I instructed and sucked harder. He was so big and strong and overwhelming and I loved every second of it.
My entire body felt like one giant heartbeat, throbbing with want. My head went backward, too heavy to keep upright. I just wanted to go completely limp as hot sensations zinged through me. The spot where his mouth was fused to my throat, it was like he was pushing heat into my body, threatening to consume me.
His teeth nipped my neck; then I felt the warm press of his tongue against my skin, sending a jolt through me. I made a noise that was severe enough to make him stop what he was doing and ask, “Are you okay?”
I wasn’t imagining anything—his breathing was uneven and unsteady. Less than mine, but it was still there.
Then I remembered that he’d asked me if I was okay. I wanted to say, Yes, I’m just fine. All the blood has left my brain and is pooling in my gut, and there’s nothing I want more than to grab your head and make you do that again, but just fine.
Instead I said, “All systems go!” Which was stupid but true in more ways than one.
We stood there, staring at each other.
“Did it work?” I finally managed.
His gaze flicked hotly to my throat and then back up to my eyes. “Yes. Sorry if I got a little rough.”
“No, I . . .” I had been about to say that I’d liked it. Probably not a good idea. I was not going to make an idiot of myself here and beg him to keep going. “I’m good.”
The mirror was directly behind his right shoulder, and I glanced at my reflection. My lips were still a dark red.
So now I knew what that meant. I glanced back at him. Marco was too smart not to recognize it as well. Would he look at me with pity and sympathetically remind me for the millionth time that we were just friends?
In that moment, I didn’t think I could handle that.
As if he recognized how I was internally freaking out, he offered me his hand. “Now that I’ve officially branded you, should we head inside and make some mistakes?”
Was he saying that the hickey thing had been a mistake? Or it hadn’t been one and we should make some?
He was so confusing. I took his hand, though, ignoring how much I loved holding it. “Sure thing, James Bond.”
Although in Marco’s case it was more Double Oh Yeah.
“Don’t you mean Double Oh Seven?” he teased with a wink, letting me know that I was still so discombobulated that I was saying things out loud that I had meant to keep in my head.
It wasn’t my fault that he was so hot.
He opened the bathroom door, and I ignored the looks from people standing in the general vicinity as we went into the ballroom.
“Better James Bond than Arwen, though, don’t you think?” he asked.
I appreciated his attempt to make me feel better. “You’re not funny.”
“I beg to differ.” We entered the ballroom and honestly, I’d expected more. Like one of those heralds announcing our presence.
Rich people were disappointing.
“Are you ready for tonight? Did you read the binder?” he asked as we walked along the outskirts of the room.
“Yes,” I told him, annoyed.
“Do you know how I know you didn’t?”
“I’m a terrible liar?” I offered.
“It’s still at my house.”
How had I forgotten the binder? I hadn’t thought of it all week. I’d done some homework on my own based on what Marco had told me, but the binder had totally slipped my mind.
That felt significant, because that binder was like the key to me possibly having a relationship with Craig. My own personal cheat sheet, meant to help me land the supposed man of my dreams.
Supposed? Where had that come from?
“I forgot. I’ve been busy.”
“Yes, changing the face of the cosmetic industry.”
That, and spending my free time either with him or talking to Catalina about spending time with him. She loved every single detail, and it was fun to share.
“Here,” he said, reaching inside his inner suit pocket. He handed me a piece of gum. I held that shiny rectangle in my hand, looking at it.
“You brought me gum?” Could he hear the emotion in my voice? He was so thoughtful.
“I figured you might need it tonight.”
A swell of emotion made me feel choked up. Like I could shed actual tears right now. “You’re a really good man, Marco.”
He grimaced and looked away. “If you knew what I was thinking right now, you wouldn’t say that.”
Mentally, I seized on his statement. What was he thinking? Was it about me? About our situation?
Deciding that ignoring it was probably best in order to keep this encounter embarrassment-free, I said, “There’s nothing you could say that would change my mind. You’re the kind of guy who would sit on the floor of a public bathroom to comfort a crying girl in a costume at a not-costume party.”
He stayed silent for a moment and then said, “Anna, there’s something I need to confess.”
My lungs solidified in my chest, and I couldn’t move.
“My dad thinks I’m not a serious person. Mostly because of the serial dating. I told you this arrangement was just about you and Craig and protecting Minx. But I realized that if I dated someone more . . . down-to-earth, he might see me differently.”
“Oh.” That wasn’t at all what I’d hoped he would say. I felt like I should be offended, but it might be a bit hypocritical, given that he’d offered to let me use him to get Craig. “I wish you’d told me before. A heads-up that you had another ulterior motive would have been nice.”
“You’re right. I should have done that. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. And I would have still agreed. You just should have said something.”
“I’m not always good at speaking up when I need to,” he said in a way that felt like it was a loaded statement and something I so related to. “Can you forgive me?”
“Of course,” I said, meaning it one hundred percent. I couldn’t be mad at him for running a scheme when I was running my own.
He reached for my hand and held it, squeezing it gently. “Thank you.” Another energy-filled moment passed between us. Then he said, “There’s my brother and his fiancée. We should give them a show. Would you like to dance?”
I glanced over at Craig and Leighton. She looked stunning in an off-white dress, and he was handsome in his tuxedo. While I knew, obviously, that Craig was going to be here, I was expecting to have more of a reaction to us finally being in the same place at the same time. I had anticipated that I would be excited to see him. That I would be dying to talk to him.