Marcus Baker Season 2 Novels & Stories

I’d barely closed the door when it opened again. Marcus stepped in, still shirtless, swim trunks hanging dangerously low on his hips. His eyes were dark with hunger as he locked the door behind him with a soft click. “Smart girl,” he murmured, stalking toward me. “Towel off. Now.” I let the towel drop to the floor, standing there completely naked except for the black bikini bottoms still shoved to the side. Cum continued to slowly trickle down my legs. Marcus’s gaze raked over me like he wanted to eat me alive. “Look at you… already leaking my load like a well-fucked little slut. Your stepdad is snoring in the room right below us, and here you are — ready for round two with his best friend.”

Marcus appeared slightly taken aback, but he swiftly regained his composure and flashed me a smile. "Sure, let's get started," he responded, making his way towards the kitchen where Marco eagerly awaited our arrival. I caught a glimpse of Marco's beaming face as he observed us. It was evident that he yearned to witness us bonding harmoniously. "You are so sweet, mom,dad,"he smiled. "Let's begin,son" Marcus told him. Relieved, I let out a sigh and observed as Marcus and Marco began gathering the necessary ingredients for the cake. As much as I desired to be part of the baking process, I couldn't bring myself to remain in the kitchen with Marcus. However, Marco's persuasion convinced me otherw

Marcus gave me a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, his gaze fixed on Reid as he answered. “Saving your ass, apparently. I didn't know we had company.” I looked between him and Reid, confusion prickling at the back of my mind. “Oh, I thought you two know each other? Reid is the reason I'm still alive, if I'm being honest.” Marcus didn't respond. Not a single word to acknowledge Reid’s presence. Instead, he shifted his attention to the rearview mirror, his expression unreadable. Reid, seemingly unfazed, followed his lead, both of them watching the road for any sign of the remaining bikers.

I searched his face, hating the look of loss in his eyes. “The attack had those bombs if you remember… well, the pack missed some that were hidden downtown.. your bakery was on the very edge of the attack.. it’s not there anymore..” he pulled me closer as a sob escaped my chest, holding me tightly as if I might shatter and fall to pieces. “Shhhh, there there, my little baker… I know… let it out…” He rubbed small circles on my back, cooing to me words of reassurance. The bakery was like my baby, something I grew all by myself after the loss of my parents. But in a matter of moments, it was gone. “My workers?” I had to know, my little pack within the pack had to have made it.

His expression was unreadable as he lowered his phone, Marcus’s number still glowing on the screen. “Everything’s in motion,” he murmured. “Phase two begins tomorrow.” And in that single moment, the game shifted again.

A new series had just come out and I'd been putting it off for weeks. Five minutes into the first episode, the door opened and Marcus entered, carrying a small paper bag. “Is my mom gone?” He asked. “Yes. She left about half an hour ago.” Grabbing the remote, I hit the pause button and rose from the chair. I followed Marcus as he was heading into the kitchen and when we got there, he dropped the bag and turned to me. “You want something?” He asked. “No. But I have to talk to you,” I answered.

Now I got you in my space I won't let go of you Got you shackled in my embrace I'm latching on to you Now I got you in my space I won't let go of you Got you shackled in my embrace I'm latching on to you After the chorus, Marcus ended the play making the people watching want for more, everyone then clapped at him while he walked towards Beatrice. There, he grabbed her hands and intertwined it with his. "How is my voice?" He asked. "I-It was great." Beatrice was at lost for words after listening to him, she suddenly wants to hear him sing everytime they will call at night. "I know." Marcus said and chuckled. She rolled her eyes at him, boastful as usual. "Okay Mr. Perfect." She said as they w

And there were two men. Marcus leaned against the wall, shirtless, cigarette glowing. Beside him stood a stranger, tall, inked, shaved head, arms thick as her thighs. His eyes were cold, hungry. A heavy silver ring glinted on the hand holding a beer. “This is Dax,” Marcus said, voice flat. “He likes to watch first. Then he likes to break things worse.” Dax didn’t speak. He just looked at Seraphina like meat. Marcus crooked a finger. “Coat off.”

Silence was its own kind of confirmation. By Wednesday, it wasn't just whispers; it was a conversation. I knew this because Marcus was waiting for me at breakfast with the expression of a man who had been braced for a collision and was finally watching the metal crumple. "People are talking," he said, not looking up from his eggs. "Let them," I said, sliding into the booth. He looked at me then, his eyes searching. "That's a massive change in position, Dec. Two weeks ago, you were ready to jump out a window to avoid being seen with her."

Joshua’s car rolled through the gates without resistance. Inside, Marcus waited. He looked relaxed. Casual. Dressed like a man who had never feared consequences in his life. He poured himself a drink while Joshua spoke, his tone smooth, his movements unhurried. They talked about business. Numbers. Losses. Damage control. Marcus listened. Nodded. Smiled. Then he stopped. Mid sentence, his gaze lifted. He stared directly into the camera. Into me. A chill slid down my spine. Marcus tilted his head slightly, as if examining a curious insect, then his lips curved into a slow grin.