Marco X Jean Novels & Stories

Why would they think otherwise? I nearly turned around and left. Nearly. But then I remembered Marco’s dead-eyed stare. The way he looked like he hadn’t eaten in days. And the way this whole house acted like he was some untouchable creature in the dark. He wasn’t. He was human. Angry, messy, human. And I could use that. So I walked over to the men's section—each step feeling heavier than it should—and stopped when I saw them. Black and white Calvin Klein sneakers. Sleek. Minimal. Unapologetically elegant. Just like Marco. If he were a shoe.

His hands were still tight on the steering wheel, knuckles white like maybe he was bracing for impact—just not with my car this time. I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Jesus, man. You tryna kill me or just my car?” He blinked up at me, flushed with that stupid grin that was both charming and infuriating. “Okay, I definitely have no money to pay for that.” He climbed out of the car, finally, and I gave him the once-over without meaning to. Old habits. Marco could dress like he owned a mirror and a gym membership—tight black jeans hugging those dancer legs, a cropped hoodie that barely covered the hem of his fitted shirt underneath, and sneakers that looked too clean for a guy with such reckless dr

Vince came to stand beside her, hands in pockets, posture a soft bracket. “You all right?” he asked, quiet enough to belong to a kitchen table at midnight. She exhaled. The breath felt like surrender and claim both. “Yes.” Marco joined them, wiping rain from his brow with the back of his hand. “He had a Maretti mark,” he said. “Yeah,” she said.

I ignored Cora, picked a faded, blue jeans, a worn out navy top, and threw them on. I didn't own anything better here anyway. While my height and frame was the same as five years ago, I'd grown notable curves in certain places which wouldn't fit into most of the clothes I had here. “Gabriella!!!” I rolled my eyes at Cora's incessant voice, then my gaze locked on something on my bed. A thick black jacket made of pure wool. Marco's jacket. I brought it to my nose. It smelled of wood and spice. “Mmm,” I inhaled the warm scent. “Cedarwood”

Losing him wasn’t an option. Marco adjust the cuff on his patterned red long-sleeve vintage shirt. He wore a pair of black slim-fit silky trousers, and Red and black Christian Louboutin Louis Spike Sneakers that complimented his Red and black outfit. His hair was packed into a short ponytail. He wore an expensive Richard Mille that made a bold statement.

m. I've never felt so relieved before. I turned towards Xander, handing him the plate. Xander watched me bored, taking the plate. "Gotta go!" I chimed, walking towards the door. I slipped on my cream stilettos, pulling the door open. Marlon stood behind it, fully clothed in black. My favourite colour! His dark jeans, plain shirt and bomber jacket sent off a fabric softener aroma on top of his usual jasmine scent. His smile playing on his lips was stunning, contagious enough to make mine form into a similar curve.

The room was well furnished with limited edition properties, and it was screaming of extravagant luxury. “So Mr. Marco, you're saying that you'd co-operate with Klein's Fashion industry, with a forty percent share?” Morgan asked, his voice clouded with authority and nobility as he sipped his wine. Marco stared at him for a while before nodding his head. He was a middle aged man, lean and tall. His brown shaved hair was parted slightly, exposing his handsome aged face. One could tell he wasn't a Filipino as his green eyes and sharp features portrays his strong American Gene.

Marco flanked Jennifer’s other side, wearing a striking, dark-plum velvet dinner jacket that perfectly matched his rebellious, analytical energy. Jennifer let go of Leo’s arm just long enough to pull me into a tight, fragrant embrace. "You look absolutely incredible," she beamed, stepping back to admire the gold silk and the glittering collar at my throat. "And you," she added, looking up at Victor with a wicked smirk, "manage to make a standard tuxedo look like a tactical weapon. Congratulations." "It's the shoulders," Marco quipped, picking two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter's silver tray and handing one to me. "He can't help it. He was built to intimidate."

Once we’re finished we get out, dry off and I head into my closet to get dressed. I decide today will be a casual day; light blue skinny jeans, black tank top and a pair of Nike Air Jordans in pink, red and black. To my pleasant surprise, Marcus has his bag stored in my closet, so he changes with me. He changes into a stretch navy blue t-shirt, black ripped jeans with tan pull up boots. I lick my lips at the sight of him. He’s all around grade A material and one hundred per cent all mine.

Marco has strong features, his striking face and lustful gaze made me notice his irises lighten to a discreet blue mixed with his old color, which looked like onyx. He touches my cheek with one of his hands, while my eyes run down his chest, I can see part of his chest between his shirt with a few buttons unbuttoned. But I put his appearance aside when I realized how awkward he was with it between my legs. My dress wasn't a loose fabric, so its hem was at my hips and my underwear was exposed, "Damn company uniforms, women wear dresses, even if they aren't short or define any curves, now with it on my body I wouldn't be able to hide.