"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" she yelled toward him.

"I think we should work on making other parts of you sore. Your eyes are much too beautiful to mess with." He pulled the glasses from his face and slipped them in his pocket. "Would your mom flip her shit if I climbed the trellis?"

"Um yes." Lisa laughed and watched him closely. Every cell in her body lit on fire, the sexy way he moved, the deep confident tone of his voice. She had been around some of the most powerful men in the world and no one hit her like Marc Martin.

He stopped at the bottom of the house and looked up, the smile on his wicked mouth growing wider. "Pull the screen out. I'm coming up."

"No the fuck you're not. My mother will..." She stopped and he reached up and started to climb the side of the wall. "Oh for fuck’s sake."

Working quickly she pulled the screen into the room and moved back as his head popped up, a soft chuckle leaving his perfect mouth.

"You look hot." He moved a little more before throwing a leg over the windowsill. Lisa moved up to help pull him in, laughing.

"You look ridiculous." She took a step back to give him space to stand. The quirky smile she received from him caused laughter to bubble up in her chest. He could burn her insides with need and yet make her laugh like a schoolgirl caught in a naughty joke.

"Let's get outta here?" He moved toward her, reaching for her hand.

"I feel like I'm in Dirty Dancing." She reached for the bottle and slipped her hand into his, moving behind him back out into the hall.

"There will be plenty of dirty dancing later if I have my way."

"I like the way you think."

"I like the way you look." He turned his head to look back at her, his gaze running across her and leaving her far more needy than she would ever let on.

CHAPTER FIVE

They somehow managed to slip out of the house without running into her parents. For that fact alone she was grateful. She was a grown woman and yet her mother would cut her down like she was ten. Lisa tried hard not to be too disrespectful in response when her mother got on one of her rantings, but to be embarrassed in front of a crowd of people would leave her no choice.

"Do you have anything to wear besides that pretty black dress?" He slid his arm around her waist as they walked quickly to his truck. She glanced down and realized her freaking shoes were still in the house.

"I've got to go get my shoes, Marc."

"No. I just got my financial aid in for the summer. Let's go buy you a pair of jeans and some flip flops."

"That sounds perfect." She glanced behind her to make sure no one was barging after them. "Funny how you can feel like a kid in front of your parents the minute you walk back into their house."

"I think that's the reason most people never go back home. There you're just a kid with no rights and no voice." He shrugged, opening the door for her.

"I guess. Thanks for rescuing me."

"Your feelings about your family are justified. Your mom's enough to make me want to jump from a tall bridge."

"You haven't met her." Lisa laughed as he closed the door and moved around to the other side of the truck. Inhaling deeply, she let the smell of him roll over her. A soft growl left her lips as he got into the truck. He smirked and turned to face her.

"What was that all about?"

"Smells good in here. I like it."

"It smells like a sweaty dude."

"Yeah, you." She buckled up and leaned back, turning to face him so she could watch him. "Would it be crazy to admit how much I've missed you?"

"I know the feeling." He glanced over at her and started the truck. "Let's not get wrapped up in emotion though. You're here for the weekend. Let's have a good time and enjoy each other’s company."

"Sounds good." She reached for her phone, texting her friends to let them know that she was safe and sound, and with Marc. She dropped the small contraption in her purse, knowing it was going to blow up with questions.

They made small talk until Marc pulled up and parked in front of a row of shops near Times Square. Lisa got out and shuddered at the thought of walking on the concrete with bare feet. New York was filthy at best. He moved around the car and offered his hand. Lisa took it and pulled it close to her, treasuring the sensation of his large hand engulfing hers. Never had the small things mattered, but with him everything was different.

"You want something girly or relaxed or what?" He pointed to a few stores. She laughed and popped his chest softly.

"I'm from here silly. Stop treating me like a tourist." She pointed to a shop on the end of the string of stores. "I like Franchesca's. Let's go in there."

"What the lady wants, the lady gets."

She tugged his hand behind her and turned to face him, pulling him flush against her. She looked up seductively and licked her lips. "Is that so? I want far more than I think I should. Who's going to be the judge of what becomes mine and what doesn't?"

He slid his fingers into her long copper hair and leaned down, brushing his lips across hers as if just tasting her. She pressed up, her other hand trapping his head in place as she explored the complexity of flavor that was unique to him. She moaned softly, sliding her tongue across his. He relaxed into the kiss, his arms encircling her and pulling her tightly against him. He broke the kiss, his eyes still closed as he pressed his forehead to hers.

"I thought we were going to try to not fall for each other, Lisa." He leaned in and kissed her again. She put all of herself in the kiss, every passion and unfulfilled need screaming in tandem how badly she wanted him. She pulled back, licking at his mouth once before nodding.

"Yeah, you're right. I wish you luck in that." She slipped her hand back in his and moved toward the store as if her heart wasn't working to break free from her chest. Nothing compared and nothing in her short life felt better than Marc.

How he had managed to worm his way deep into her thoughts and penetrate her darkest desires was beyond her. She looked over her shoulder at him, his eyes glossy, his tongue licking at his lips.

They walked into the store and Lisa released him, moving around to find a pretty white cotton dress and some sandals. She walked up to him as he stood near the front of the store, his sunglasses back on his face.

"I'm going to try this on." She held it up.

"No jeans?"

"Not my style. I like easy access." She tilted her head to the side. "We should get matching leather bombers and rent a bike."

"You a biker chick now? Suits, dresses and motorcycles?"

"I could be." She laughed and turned, walking through the small store to the back. She slipped into the dressing room furthest away, the door nothing more than a thin curtain. Reaching back, she worked the zipper down on her dress as the curtain moved.

"Someone is in here." Her voice was flat, her tone aggravated.

"I was hoping for that." He moved in and tugged the curtain back into place.

"What are you doing?"

"I figured this weekend was about us. We can keep pretending that we're not going to fuck or we can just spend the weekend living out wild ass fantasies with the one person we imagine in the middle of each of them." He shrugged, his confidence wickedly delicious.