A Long Week

Jake's Pov 

"This week is going to be hell."

"It doesn't have to be." I picked up my coffee, my hands steadier than I felt. "Devon and Emma are planning to go into town this afternoon. Shopping or something. They invited me but I was thinking of staying back. Someone should probably stay with the house, right?"

I watched understanding dawn on Marcus's face, followed by conflict, followed by something that looked a lot like surrender.

"Jake –"

"Just think about it." I headed toward the stairs before I could do something stupid like close the distance between us and kiss him right here where Devon could walk back in any second. "I'm going to take a shower. A cold one."

I felt his eyes on me as I walked away, felt the weight of his stare like a physical touch. When I glanced back from the top of the stairs, he was still standing in the kitchen, both hands gripping the counter, his head bowed.

He looked like a man at war with himself.

I just had to make sure the right side won.

The shower helped marginally. I stood under the cold spray until my teeth chattered, trying to cool the fire in my blood. 

But every time I closed my eyes, I heard Marcus's voice – I'd bend you over this counter – and I was right back to being desperate and aching.

When I finally emerged, Devon was shouting about how someone named Emma sucked at Mario Kart. Normal. Easy. The way this week was supposed to be.

Except nothing about this week was going to be normal or easy.

I got dressed and headed back downstairs, planning to lose myself in video games and terrible breakfast food and pretending my entire world wasn't shifting on its axis.

But when I reached the living room, Marcus was there too. He'd changed into a black t-shirt that was somehow even more distracting than the gray one. He was sitting in the armchair, laptop open, pretending to work.

But I felt his attention on me the second I walked in.

Devon thrust a controller at me. "Finally. Help me destroy Emma. She's talking mad shit."

"I'm literally beating you," Emma protested.

I sat on the couch, acutely aware of Marcus's presence behind me. The game loaded, bright colors and cheerful music that felt absurd given the tension in my body.

We played for an hour, maybe more. Devon and Emma bantered. I tried to focus on the screen, on the game, on anything other than the man sitting six feet behind me whose eyes I could feel on the back of my neck like a brand.

At some point, Emma suggested they go get food in town. "There's that taco place you love," she said to Devon. "Plus I need to find a bathing suit. I forgot mine."

"Jake, you in?" Devon asked.

This was it. The moment. I could go with them, keep things safe and normal and uncomplicated. Or I could stay.

"Actually, I'm kind of tired from yesterday," I said, hating how obvious the lie sounded. "Might just hang here, maybe swim later."

Devon shrugged. "Suit yourself. Dad, you need anything from town?"

"I'm good," Marcus said, and his voice sounded tight. "Drive safe."

Twenty minutes later, I heard the garage door close, the sound of Devon's car disappearing down the driveway. Then silence.

I was alone in the house with Marcus.

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might explode. I sat frozen on the couch, unsure what to do, what to say, whether to wait for him to make a move or to –

"Jake." His voice came from directly behind me. When had he moved? "We need to talk."

I turned to find him standing behind the couch, his hands gripping the back of it. His knuckles were white. His eyes were dark and intense and locked on mine.

"Okay," I said. "Let's talk."

"Not here." He jerked his head toward the sliding doors leading to the pool. "Outside."

I followed him out into the bright afternoon sun. The pool sparkled, inviting and innocent. Marcus walked to the far edge, putting distance between us, his back to me.

"This is your last chance to walk away," he said without turning around. "Once we cross this line, we can't uncross it. You understand that?"

"I understand."

"Do you?" He finally turned, and the raw need on his face made my breath catch. "Because I need you to be sure, Jake. I need you to be absolutely certain this is what you want. Because if we do this – if I touch you – I won't be gentle. I won't hold back. I've been holding back for too long."

I crossed the distance between us in four strides. "Then stop holding back.”

His control shattered.

Marcus grabbed me, one hand fisting in my hair, the other gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. 

He hauled me against him and then his mouth was on mine – hot and demanding and nothing like I'd imagined because reality was so much better.

He kissed like he was starving for it, like he'd been thinking about this as long as I had. His tongue pushed past my lips, claiming my mouth, and I opened for him with a groan that came from somewhere deep in my chest.

His hand tightened in my hair, angling my head exactly where he wanted it. The slight pain mixed with pleasure, making me dizzy. I grabbed his shirt, fisting the fabric, trying to pull him closer even though there was no space left between us.

"Fuck," he growled against my mouth. "Fuck, Jake, you taste –"

He didn't finish the sentence. Just kissed me harder, deeper, until I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could only feel. His body was solid against mine, all hard muscle and heat, and I could feel how hard he was pressing against my hip.

I rocked against him and he made a sound low in his throat – half groan, half warning.

"Careful," he said, pulling back just enough to speak. His pupils were blown, his lips wet and swollen. "Unless you want this to be over embarrassingly fast."

"I want everything." My voice came out wrecked. "I want you to do everything you said in the kitchen. Everything you've been thinking about."

Something dark and possessive flashed in his eyes. "Everything?"

"Everything."

Marcus studied my face for a long moment, like he was memorizing it, or maybe giving me one last chance to change my mind. Then he released my hair and stepped back.

"Strip."

The command sent electricity down my spine. "What?"

"You heard me." His voice was pure authority now, edged with heat. "Strip. I want to see what I'm working with."

My hands shook as I grabbed the hem of my shirt. I pulled it over my head, dropping it on the pool deck. Marcus's eyes tracked the movement, then traveled slowly down my chest, my stomach, the obvious bulge in my jeans.

"Keep going."

I unbuttoned my jeans, my fingers clumsy with adrenaline and need. Pushed them down along with my boxers until I was standing there completely naked in his backyard in broad daylight, hard and exposed and so turned on I could barely see straight.

Marcus didn't touch me. Just looked, his gaze traveling over every inch of my body with an intensity that felt almost physical.

"Get in the pool," he said finally.

"What?"

"Get. In. The pool." Each word was deliberate. "Now."

I didn't understand what he was doing, but I moved to the edge and dove in. The water was cold, shocking after the heat of his body against mine. When I surfaced, Marcus was stripping off his own shirt.

Holy fuck.

I'd seen him shirtless yesterday, but this was different. This time I was allowed to look, allowed to stare at the defined muscles of his chest and abs, the dark hair trailing down past his waistband, the tattoo on his ribs I'd never noticed before.

He kicked off his jeans and boxer briefs in one motion and my brain short-circuited. He was hard, thick and ready, and the sight made my mouth water.

Then he was in the water with me, cutting through it with powerful strokes until he had me backed against the pool wall.

"This is better," he said, his hands finding my hips under the water. "If someone comes home early, we're just swimming. Swimming is innocent."

"Nothing about this is innocent," I managed.

"No," he agreed, and pulled me flush against him. "Nothing about this is innocent at all."

His mouth found mine again, but slower this time, like he was learning me, cataloging every response. His hands roamed my body under the water, exploring, possessing.

When his fingers wrapped around my cock, I nearly came right there.

"Sensitive," he murmured against my lips. "How long has it been since someone touched you like this?"

"Never," I admitted. "I've never – with a guy, I mean. I've never –"

He pulled back, his eyes searching mine. "Jake. Are you saying you're a virgin?"

"Not exactly. There was a girl last year, but it was just once and it was –" I shook my head. "This is different. You're different. I've never wanted anyone the way I want you."

"Jesus Christ." He rested his forehead against mine, his hand still wrapped around me under the water. "You're going to be the death of me."

Then he stroked me, slow and firm, and my head fell back against the pool wall. The sensation was overwhelming – his hand on me, the water, the sun, the sheer impossibility of this actually happening.

"Marcus," I gasped. "Please –"

"Please what?" He kissed my neck, teeth grazing my pulse point. "Tell me what you need."

"More. I need more."

His free hand gripped my ass, pulling me tighter against him. "I'm going to give you everything you can handle," he promised. "But first you're going to come for me just like this. So I can watch. So I can see that pretty face when you fall apart."

He stroked me faster, his grip perfect, his thumb swiping over the head on every pass. I was already close, wound too tight, every nerve ending firing.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice rough. "Let go. Come for me, Jake."

I came with his name on my lips, my vision whiting out, pleasure crashing through me in waves that seemed to last forever. He stroked me through it, drawing it out, until I was shaking and oversensitive and completely wrecked.

When I finally opened my eyes, he was watching me with an expression I couldn't read – want and tenderness and something that looked almost like regret.

"We shouldn't have done that," he said quietly.

"Don't." I grabbed his face, making him look at me. "Don't do that. Don't tell me you regret it. Not when you're still hard. Not when you want this as much as I do."

"Wanting it doesn't make it right."

"But it doesn't make it wrong either." I kissed him, pouring everything I felt into it. "Please, Marcus. Don't pull away now. Not when we've finally –"

The sound of a car in the driveway made us both freeze.

"Shit," Marcus hissed. "They're back early."

We scrambled apart, my heart hammering for entirely different reasons now. Marcus boosted himself out of the pool in one fluid motion, grabbing his clothes and disappearing inside before I could even react.

I heard Devon's voice from inside. "Dad? Jake? Where is everyone?"

"Out here!" I called, my voice surprisingly steady. "Just swimming!"

Devon appeared at the sliding door, Emma behind him. "Dude, the taco place was closed. Can you believe that? We drove all the way there for nothing."

"That sucks," I said, and it did. But part of me was still reeling, still processing what had just happened.

What I'd just done.

Devon flopped onto a lounge chair. "Whatever. We can order pizza later. You been swimming this whole time?"

"Yeah." The lie came easily now. "Just relaxing."

But as I floated there in the pool, I could still feel Marcus's hands on me, still taste him on my lips. And I knew – this week was far from over.

This was only the beginning.