Probably because all the men I’ve been with haven’t been players.

Marcus is good, because he’s probably fucked half of the United States.

Lucky country.

I finish cleaning up and head back out to the room. Marcus is sitting on the sofa, black pants back on, no shirt. He’s got a glass of whiskey in his hand, and when I step out, he looks up. The ice in the glass rattles as he brings it to his lips, studying me as he sips the amber liquid. I feel suddenly self-conscious, and I quickly rush around, finding my panties and bra. I put them on and fetch my dress.

“Don’t put that on,” he says.

I turn to him. “Why not? I thought . . .”

“We’re not done.”

We’re not?

“Ah . . .”

“Over here, now,” he orders.

“Okay,” I say, putting my hands up. “Pretty sure we’ve got our wires crossed. That was great sex; I mean, seriously, amazing, but that’s where it ends. Now I leave and dream the rest of my life about how fucking awesome it was.”

“The bed. Now.”

Right, so he has hearing difficulties.

“You’re a player.” I laugh nervously. “You do this enough to know how it goes.”

“Yes,” he answers, sounding almost . . . bored.

“I’m sure you’ve got a list up to your . . . your . . .”

“Sixty-seven.”

I stare at him, mouth open. “What?” I gasp.

“Sixty-seven women have been in my bed.”

Oh. Shit.

“Are you always so . . .” I gulp. “. . . honest?”

He stares at me and says in a clear voice. “No.”

I blink at him.

“Now, get back into the bed. I’m not done. Not even close.”

I do as he asks.

I get back in the bed.

CHAPTER 5

NOW

Marcus

“Marcus,” Yasmin protests as I curl my fingers around her arm and drag her into the car park. “Please.”

“Listen,” I hiss. “We’re fuckin’ done. Do you understand me?”

Her green eyes blink up at me as I let her go, shoving her back. She makes a squeaking sound. “I heard you got married.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you love her?”

“No.”

Fuck. What the hell did I just say that for? Way to make people believe it’s real. I inwardly kick myself for answering without thinking.

Her eyes go wide. “What?”

“Nothing. Get out of here, Yasmin. We’re done. We were done the last time I shoved my cock inside you.”

She steps forward, her hand pressing against my chest, her body pressing against my dick. Fuck. She was a good lay, can’t deny that, but she was also clingy and fuckin’ annoying.

“She doesn’t need to know about us.”

“I said,” I whisper, low. “Leave.”

“You will come back, Marcus.”

“I won’t.”

“You will.”

I curl my fingers around her arms and haul her up against me. She squeaks and her eyes drop to my lips. Fuck me.

“Get it through your fuckin’ head, I don’t fuckin’ want you.”

“Marcus...”

I shake her slightly. “Get out of here, I don’t need your shit and I don’t want it.”

“This isn’t over!” She cries.

“Fuck. Off.”

“Marcus!”

Jesus. What was I thinking with this one?

She’s the only woman I fucked more than once. Can’t say why, I don’t even know. She was good in bed and she was easy. Now she’s fuckin’ crazy.

“Mar-”

“Leave.”

My phone rings in my pocket and I raise my hand flicking my fingers. Minutes later two of my guards walk over. “Escort her out.”

“Marcus!” she yells.

I turn, giving her nothing more and answering my phone.

“Yeah?”

“Heard my woman paid you a visit.”

I grin. “Mack.”

“Sorry ’bout that, bro.”

“No problem.”

“Heard you’re havin’ issues with Lucas.”

I snort. “Lucas is a pain in my fuckin’ ass and is screwin’ up my business. You seen him?”

“Nah.”

“Fuck. Anyway, how’s things going with that little fucker Jaylah was goin’ out with?”

“Gone missin’.”

“Fuck.”

Mack laughs. “Yeah.”

“You need me, you tell me, yeah?”

“All over it, brother.”

“Come around, you and the guys. Anytime.”

“Hold you to that.”

I step into the office. “Later, Mack.”

“Later, bud.”

I hang up.

I’ve known Mack for around three years. Met him when he was on the road. He came into a bar, we got talking and shit went from there. He’s helped me with some of my jobs and a friendship grew. He’s an adopted brother to the Jokers’ Wrath MC president, Maddox. They’re good guys, and Mack helps me out when I need information or to track someone down.

As for Yasmin? Let’s hope that bitch doesn’t come back.

~*~*~*~

KATIA

I stare at Marcus in the shower. Hot water is running down his ripped body. Yum. I lick my lips and let my eyes travel from his broad, bronzed shoulders, down his gorgeous muscled back, over his fine ass and to his thick, strong legs. My husband is hot. Fucking hot. Mega hot. Amazing.