Marco X Jean Novels & Stories

“How do I look?” I spin around, for Jaxon, who has been staring at me since I got out of the bathroom. It's a cold morning and we're packed up to leave for town. Jaxon got prepared since the wee hours of the morning. He's shaved and trimmed his hair and right now, he looks even more Daddy—Whatever that means. Although I miss that thick, sexy beard, there’s something about his Super Mario moustache and shorter hair. He's wearing a maroon plaid shirt, black jacket, and dark jeans. He has his boots on. He's already put our things in his truck and Snowie's tottering around him as usual, constantly meowing like she’s afraid we’ll forget her.

Her fingers trembling as a lump lodged itself into her throat. “All done,” Marco spoke with a light hearted smile. “Took longer than I expected, and made me want to throw out quite a few clothes, but then I realized that they were all gifts of one sort or another,” He blabbered and absently stroked the material of the pant leg for his suit laid out for tomorrow.

It has length below my knee and I felt comfortable wearing it. Cara instantly placed three boxes of high heels in front of me. I tried all of them and the saint Laurent ankle-strap suited my dress. I know that Marco ordered all of the stuff for me and I didn't want to complain anymore as I know I’ll just get defeated if I argue with him.

It’s an evening blue crewneck sweatshirt featuring contrasting tape down the long sleeves and a sporty embroidered logo detail at the front center. “I think, I haven’t had one like this on my closet” Since I cleaned my room the past few weeks, I am pretty sure that I don’t have one like this. I get a medium size because I want something oversized for me. Once I finally get a stock, I proceeded to the pants section. I saw on their new arrivals the 1981 Cropped Straight Jeans in the color medium wash. It’s denim elevated with this pair of high-rise jeans, featuring a cropped hem and straight-leg fit.

I asked Axel then sighed loudly when he couldn't respond. I was getting annoyed at his fucked up behavior. I moved the clothes on the hang wire back, slowly looking at each and every piece carefully. "How about dark blue Gucci Jeans, Marc Jacobs Crystal-embellished cotton-jersey T-shirt, and Air Jordan Silver shoes. If you won't respond I'll put on the most disturbing outfit I'll find?" I warned him. "For someone who doesn't want to go on a date, you sure know the names of pretty popular labels." His reply came.

"You're the reason we're having problems, aren't you? You're the reason she's leaving me." Marco cocked an eyebrow, "I’m not the one who just got caught with a dick up my ass." Xavier's face turned a shade of crimson I didn't think was possible. He looked like he was about to explode. He took a step towards Marco, his hands clenched into fists.

He smoothed down his shirt, slapped his cheeks to bring back some color, and walked over to the front door, pulling it open with a charming smile. "Baby!" Laurent squeaked out, his voice a little too high-pitched before he quickly cleared his throat. "Hey, babe! What took you so long?” “I... I was in the bathroom when you called!" Laurent said smoothly, ushering him in. Marco stepped into the entryway, his massive frame practically filling the doorway. He was dressed in a dark tailored suit, looking broad, dangerous, and exhausted. He let out a heavy sigh, stretching his wide shoulders as the door clicked shut behind him.

“That sounds… intense.” “It is,” she said, rocking the pot. “But it’s also why the company is the best. Everyone works hard.” I swallowed. Hard work I could do. I can deal with stress. But working under him… That was something else entirely. Asma glanced at me again, noticing my silence. “I know you’ve heard about him before, even if you don’t admit it.” I froze slightly. “What do you mean?” I asked too quickly. She stiffly lifted an eyebrow. “Alpha Xander Marco. King of Nightmare Pack. Even humans know his name now because of his company.”

I leaned back against Marco’s chest with a quiet sigh as he leaned down, pressing a lingering, warm kiss to the pulse point under my jaw. "You've been at this for six hours, mia vita," Marco murmured into my skin, his hand reaching around to set a small porcelain bowl of fresh grapes on the corner of my drafting paper. He picked up a grape, popping it gently between my lips. I chewed, smiling softly against his thumb as he wiped a stray crumb from my lip. "I have to finish the armhole pitch for Moretti's jacket," I whispered, turning my head to catch his lips in a brief, sweet kiss. "If the sleeve pitch is off by a millimeter, the drape buckles when he reaches into his coat."

The little pervert was into it. "I... that's kind of hot, actually," Jax admitted. Marcus pushed off the door. Walked toward Jax slow, deliberate. "Hot," he repeated, like he was tasting the word. "Yeah. It is." He stopped inches from Jax. Reached out and traced a finger down Jax's chest, over his shirt. Jax shivered. "Take your clothes off," Marcus said. Not a question. An order. Jax fumbled with his shirt. Got it over his head. His body was lean—no chest hair, small nipples, a flat stomach. He unbuckled his belt with shaking fingers. Jeans dropped. Boxers followed.