Marcus stopped at two large double doors and opened one. We were in his room, which I had never been before. He laid me down in his bed. We both remained quiet, not saying a word to each other. My eyes darted around the room, if anything not to have to look at his perfect example of a masculine body.
He took the gun from the back of his belt line and placed it next to the bed. It was in reach for me to take. Was he testing me? I could tell that Marcus was watching me inquisitively. There was no way in hell I was going to pick up that gun.
The room too had several expensive artworks, but one piece caught my interest instantly. An artwork of a mustang galloping across a field in a spirited fury was the size of a wall. It was so colossal it belonged in a museum, let alone the center
