Marcus’s POV)
Fuck. I could still taste her on my tongue, sweet, warm, and addictive.
I walked back into the living room carrying Bianca’s coffee like nothing had happened, my expression calm and casual. But my c**k was still rock hard, straining painfully against the thin gray sweatpants, and my mind was replaying the stolen kitchen kiss on an endless, filthy loop. Beverley’s soft, plush lips yielding under mine. The quiet, desperate moan she’d made into my mouth. The way her body had melted against me, hips pressing forward even as her mind fought it. She had kissed me back. Hungrily. Like she’d been starving for it.
Bianca smiled up at me from the couch as I handed her the mug, looking beautiful and relaxed in her robe. “Thank you, babe. You’re the best.”
“No problem,” I said smooth
