Bender (Vegas Venom Book 4)

I’ve been looking forward to our date all day, but by the time six o’clock rolls around, I’ve worked myself up into a state. I’ve convinced myself that I want too much from this encounter. What am I going to do if Marco strolls in, bangs me, and leaves? Should I ask him to stay? Do I want him to stay? Is it too soon? Am I going to break his heart? Is he going to break mine?

God, caring about your hookup as more than just sex is a bit too much.

One thing’s clear: I’ve got myself twisted in knots, and I need to calm down. I sit cross-legged on the couch and do some deep breathing exercises until he knocks at the door. I check myself over in the hall mirror one more time. I look good in this dress. It’s a green sundress that perfectly toes the line between sexy and casual.

You can do this, Mads. I take one final cleansing breath before tugging the door open to reveal Marco on the other side.

He’s dressed in Venom-themed gym clothes, and his arms are overflowing with snacks and treats. A drink holder with two Icees is balanced in one hand, he has a bucket of popcorn under one arm, and a small bag full of boxes of candy dangles from his wrist.

“Ciao, bellissima!” he crows. “I am hoping you have the Netflix because I have brought the chills.” He laughs at his own joke as he brandishes the Icees in my direction.

I don’t know what I was so worried about. One look at his smiling face is enough to make me relax. As sexy as he can be under the right conditions, he’s a goof the rest of the time. A sexy goof, but still, there’s no reason for me to be wound this tight. If he’s not reading too much into this, why should I?

He kisses my cheeks as he slides through the doorway. “I will take this to the couch. You are so lovely tonight, bellissima. That dress is doing you all the favors.”

“Did you get this stuff from an actual movie theater?” I ask.

His answering smile lights up the room. And my heart. “I did, because it is the best!”

“It’s literally the most expensive way to buy popcorn,” I say, before remembering the dinner that he took me to the other night. Clearly, the guy’s not afraid to splurge.

Marco’s smile fades. “Am I doing this wrong already?”

“Not in the slightest,” I assure him. “I’m just surprised. But it’s the pleasant kind. Come on, the couch is that way.”

Marco heads over to set up shop at the coffee table. I watch from afar as he settles in, making sure that we have everything we might need. I add some napkins to the mix.

That’s when it occurs to me that he has no idea what I mean when I say Netflix and chill. He literally thinks that I invited him over to sit here and watch movies, and that was enough to get him excited to visit. He just wants to spend time with me.

Shit. Shit. I think Sienna was right.

At least one of us is already in deep.

Not even close to accurate, Mads. Both of us are in too deep here.

“Would you like to sit next to me?” He pats one of the couch cushions until I come over to join him.

I slide in beside him and pull out my phone. “Would you like to take some pictures before we start the movie?”

“Of us? Of course, cara mia!” He leans in so that his shoulder brushes mine. “This will allow me to put a photo with your contact in my phone.”

I open Snapchat and start playing with the filters. Marco laughs when he sees how we look with dog faces.

“Give us hearts on our eyes next!” he says.

I do as he asks, and just as I tap the button, I whip toward him and kiss his cheek. The resulting photo is the cutest thing ever.

We try a couple more, including a face swap where we end up pulling increasingly strange expressions to make the other look as silly as possible, one that makes us look like babies, and then like babies with beards.

“That’s the one,” I say, admiring our beard-baby selfie.

“One for what?” he asks.

“Your contact photo for my phone.” I tap the screen to add the photo while Marco shakes his head.

He rolls his lips together. “Why do you want me to look like this? I already have a beard. It is better than the baby beard!”

As I shoulder-check him, I say, “Oh, come on, it’s cute. I bet you were an adorable baby.”

He nestles in beside me and pulls the popcorn bucket into his lap. “I know you were. Did you pick what movie to chill with?”

My eyes seek the remote amongst our movie smorgasbord. “I thought we could watch The Proposal. Have you seen it?”

“Never. Let us see it now.” He munches on a handful of popcorn while I queue up the show.

I’ve seen The Proposal a few times now, and the familiarity of the opening lulls me into a happy fugue. I end up watching Marco’s face more than the screen, admiring his profile while he’s distracted by the film. Whenever I start feeling this way about him, I’ll remember my contract with Caesar’s. My modeling career means everything to me, and I can’t change everything I’ve worked for because of a hopeful heart.

By the time Marco is slurping from the bottom of his drink, I’ve managed to snuggle close enough that one of his arms is wrapped around my shoulder. I’m hyper-aware of every place our bodies touch, of the solid warmth of him alongside me.

“I enjoy the Ryan Rinaldo.” He sets his cup aside and pulls me closer still so that his cheek rests against the top of my head. “And the Betty Bianco. So sad that she passed away. She is underneath a stone like my nonna.”

“I like them, too,” I agree. “I thought you could appreciate this movie. It’s the story of a foreigner in a strange land… relatable, huh? I thought that might resonate with you.”

“Sometimes. But being with you is nice.” He squeezes me again against him. “It matters not where we are, or what we are doing. I so enjoy having you by my side, bellissima.”

Snuggling with him is no longer sweet and cozy. I’m getting decidedly worked up as my mind keeps drifting to our time inside the Ball & Chain, and the fact that I’m now pretty much in his lap isn’t helping me focus. My core aches even at the hint of memory that I keep chasing away. I manage to be quiet for another thirty seconds or so before I give up and reach for the remote.

“Can we talk?” I ask.

Marco sits upright. “This does not sound good. What did I do?”

“Nothing.” I fiddle nervously with my hair. “It’s just that, um… so, here’s the thing. I like to think of myself as sex-positive.”

Marco’s eyebrows rise. “And this means?”

I take a deep breath. “That I’m open about sex. That I’m comfortable with my body even when a lot of other people are not. That I’m comfortable talking with other people about sex and their bodies.” The trouble is sex is the easy part. It’s emotions that I’m not always sure how to navigate, and Sienna’s warning about breaking Marco’s heart keeps ringing in my ears.

Marco nods as he relaxes back against the arm of the couch. “I am liking this philosophy. I would also like to be sex-positive with you. I would like to be sex-positive right now. But I always wait for you to advise me, bellissima. I do not ever want to pressure you.”

I swallow a chuckle. “Are you sure?”

“I say, I am positive.” Marco spreads his hands wide. “Did I not use it right?”

I lean against the back of the couch, resting one elbow on the cushions to support my chin. “Not exactly. Sex positivity is all about communication. Basically, it’s the idea that as long as sex occurs between consenting adults who feel safe to explore their bodies and their needs, it’s good.”

Marco bobs his head. “Si, si. All this is good.”

“It also means being upfront about what you want. Consent, safety, and mutual pleasure are all big components of being sex positive.”

“Oh!” Marco’s eyes widen, and he snaps his fingers. “I am understanding, I think. I agree to this. You say that you want to watch movies and relax. I tell you, so do I. Am I touching you too much? Are you feeling that I want too much? Because I am not trying anything sneaky.” He places one hand over his heart. “I promise.”

I bite my thumbnail.

“I am promising, Madison.” His eyes stay fixed on mine, and any trace of humor has disappeared. Whenever he resorts to using my given name, I know he’s being serious as a heart attack. “I know, with my text, I am telling you about how it was for me to see you, hmm, arriving. For me, this is very good. But sitting for movies is also good. I want both.”

My heart hammers against my ribs. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” He nods frantically. “Very much. I want you to be positive for sex with me. Until then, we watch movies. Or go to dinner. Whatever you like. So long as I am with you, I am happy.”

Heat creeps up my neck. I can’t believe I spent the whole day worrying about wanting too much. I inhale, feeling like I haven’t drawn in a full breath since he got here.

“In that case, I think there’s something you should know.” I nibble my bottom lip. “So, when people say the phrase Netflix and chill, they don’t mean that they want to sit together and watch the whole movie while relaxing with snacks.”

Marco scratches his chin. “Then, what is the meaning?”

“We’re on a couch.” I interlace my fingers. “We’re snuggling. Things happen. Maybe we miss parts of the movie, you know?”

“Oh.” Marco’s cheeks flush scarlet. “Oh, my. So every time, when everyone is saying Nextflix and chill, they all know this?”

I purse my lips in sympathy and nod. “Yup.”

“Ah, cretino!” He smacks his palm to his forehead. “I see now. All day they are saying jokes about this!”

“Sorry. Last night we were all drinking and joking around. It didn’t even occur to me that you might not understand.”

“Then, when you are asking me to come here, you are already wanting to… to be sex-positive with me.” He drags his hand down his face and returns to contemplating me.

I nod again.

“And to pop the cherry?”

I bite back a smile. I want Marco to feel comfortable asking me questions, and laughing isn’t going to help achieve this. “It means taking someone’s virginity, but it’s also slang meaning that you’re introducing someone to an experience.”

“Ah, like the bird!” Marco nods.

I start to nod before I realize that what he just said doesn’t make sense. “The bird in the hand?”

“It does not matter, I am understanding. The cherry, the chill, it is not the Icee.” He points to the remains of my cherry-flavored drink. “What you are saying to me is, Marco, I will give you the first time of having sex during a movie. Si?”

“Oh, sweetie.” I can’t help but laugh. “Is that why you brought those?”

“I am not understanding, so I take things literal.” He shakes his head. “And also, I like that.”

“Which part?”

“When you call me sweetie.” He reaches for my hand. “Sweetness on the tongue. I like to be this for you.”

“Oh.” I lean against him again and curl my finger under his chin. “Do you? Because I wouldn’t mind using my tongue, that’s for sure.”

His throat bobs. “This is not my meaning, but you will hear no argument from me, bellissima. I am positive.”

I run the pad of my thumb over his bottom lip, and he opens his mouth to lick me. I gasp aloud as the sensation shoots right to my belly and I collapse against him, pressing him back into the couch.

I expected him to pull me into his lap and start feeling me up, but instead, he only kisses me, slow and steady, with so much passion that I melt against him like the sweating remains of my Icee.

At last, once he’s rendered me into a quivering wreck, Marco pulls back. “Should we be starting the movie, cara mia? Because I understand tradition, but I think I will be much better for you in a bed.”

“Yeah.” I slide off of him, and Marco gets to his feet. He scoops me up before I realize what’s happening and carries me off down the hall. I’ve never been with someone who could bench press me before, and I have to say, being carried like the princess he always says I am is pretty nice.

He sets me down on the edge of my bed, and I immediately strip off my dress. I wore my cutest matching underwear: black lace panties and a strappy, lacey black bra with a red rose pattern. Marco groans in longing and tosses his sweatshirt and tee aside before dropping onto the bed with me.

“Shorts off,” I command, slowly sliding my panties down my legs.

“Of course, principessa.” Marco winks at me as he shimmies out of them. “I do anything you ask of me.”

My God. I’d seen his dick before, but that ass? That ass is criminal contraband. Or a controlled substance at the very least.

“You like?” He grins cheekily and strikes a pose. “I am like David, non? I work very hard on the weight machines.”

“They make ‘em better in Italy,” I mumble.

He laughs as he hoists himself over me and kisses me again while I’m pinned to the bed. “What can I do for you, Madison? What are you wanting me to deliver?”

I bite my bottom lip and let my eyes slide down his bare chest. “I want to taste you… sweetie.”

Marco groans and rolls sideways, dragging me on top of him. “Baciami,” he breathes, then pulls me down to him, kissing me as I straddle him.

I kiss his throat, then work my way down his chest. I’ve gotten a lot of crap about my weight from people in the past, and I don’t necessarily equate fitness and muscles with attractiveness, but holy shit. I trace the furrows of his six-pack with my tongue and dig my fingers into the muscles of his thighs.

God, he’s hot. Unreasonably hot. Hovering over him, I enjoy the view for as long as I can until the desire to devour him takes over. By the time I take the tip of his dick in my mouth, I’m already dripping wet with desire.

“Madison,” he pants as I take him between my lips and run my tongue along the underside of his cock. When my tongue passes over the cool metal of his piercing, he sucks in a breath.

“Cara mia.” Marco’s eyes roll back in his head. “You are feeling so good…”

“Marco, I love how your dick feels in my mouth,” I agree, before opening wider and sucking him deep. Normally, this isn’t my favorite position, but the response I get from Marco is so satisfying that it’s climbing the list fast. A strangled groan falls from his mouth and his head rolls back as his hips twitch beneath my ministrations. He’s so damn hot that I end up with my fingers between my legs, caressing myself into a frenzy.

So much for keeping cool.

“Bellissima,” Marco groans, “I want more.”

I know what he means, but I look up to meet his eyes and take him deeper still. If he wants to come in my mouth, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.

His mouth wobbles, and he mumbles something that sounds like it might be a prayer before he tells me, “That is not what I am meaning. Come here.”

I climb back on top of him and straddle him so that his cock is pressed beneath me. He shivers and gasps as I reach over to the nightstand for a condom. While I rummage around in the drawer, his hands roam over me, unsnapping my bra and pulling it aside so that he can caress my breasts, pinching and tugging my aching nipples into swollen points. I swear, everywhere he touches me leaves me ablaze with wanting.

“Let me help,” Marco says as he reaches for the drawer as well. To my mortification, he pulls out my bullet vibrator. He holds it up above him and examines it from a few angles. “What is this?”

I’m tempted to snatch it out of his hands and thrust it back into the drawer, but that wouldn’t be in keeping with my self-proclaimed sex positivity. This man’s erect cock is literally rubbing my clit right now. Why should I be embarrassed to admit that I’m adept at handling my own needs?

“It’s a vibrator,” I explain. “Like the wand from the BDSM club but only much smaller.” When he keeps squinting at it, I push the button on the end. Marco squeals and almost drops it.

“Oh!” His face lights up. “I see, I see. I have not seen them like this before. So small. You like this?”

“It’s just for my clit,” I say, fully aware that I’m on the verge of bursting into flames as the heat climbs my face. “When I um… need to get myself off. Women have needs too, you know.”

Marco turns the vibrator off again. “Not everything is strange to me, cara mia. Words? Customs? These are confusing. But this?” He slides his hand beneath me and rolls my swollen clit gently between his fingers. “This is not new for me. This comes naturally like olives straight from the tree.”

“Great.” I return my attention to the drawer. If I don’t have this man inside me in the next thirty seconds, I might drop dead right on the mattress.

When I retrieve the condom at last, Marco says, “Let me move for a moment, bellissima.”

As I lift myself off of him, Marco tears the wrapper open with his teeth. Then he scoots up the bed so that he’s sitting with his back to the headboard. “Turn around,” he says as he unrolls the condom onto himself.

I do as he asks, then settle into his lap again with my back to his chest. He growls as I sink onto him, and the relief I feel as he enters me is immediate.

“Marco.” I press my hands against his thighs for support, then think better of it and pull away.

“You can lean on me,” he says in a breathless voice. “I am here for you, principessa. I will never let you down.”

I put my hands back where they were before. I sometimes feel self-conscious when I’m on top, but as Marco’s muscles shift beneath my palms, calm washes over me. He caresses my shoulders with one hand, kisses the dip of my spine, and cups one breast, testing its weight in his palm.

I start to move, slowly at first, riding him in short strokes. From this angle, the sensation of his piercing is just intense enough to be breathtaking. I move faster.

His hand leaves my back, and a moment later it settles between my legs. I cry out in surprise when something buzzes between my legs, and only then do I realize that he’s kept my vibrator within easy reach.

“I love how you are taking what you like, cara mia,” he groans. “My cazzo is so deep inside your woman’s heat. You are—ah—you are perfect. Is this good?”

The added sensation of the vibrator against my clit is making me lightheaded. “Yeah,” I gasp. “Oh my God, yes, it’s better than good. Marco… I’m almost… oh!”’

My orgasm comes on like a tidal wave, and the words die on my lips as I tighten around him. I stop moving, lost in my release, but Marco keeps moving beneath me, the muscles of his thighs tensing and releasing against mine.

“Say something to me,” I pant. “In Italian.”

My skin breaks out in a riot of goosebumps as Marco’s warm breath feathers my neck and earlobe. It’s almost too much. The intimacy of the position we’re in tugs at every cell. Even though I won’t understand his words, I will still be able to feel their potency. Because it isn’t the words at all, it’s always the way he says them.

Marco kisses my spine again. “Madison, sei la miglior cosa che mi sia capitata. Siamo fatti l’uno per l’altra… ah!” He trails off into a series of wordless cries. Noisy sex hasn’t always been my thing, but apparently, it is now. He sounds like he’s stranded on the edge, and between his cries and his thrusting and the steady thrum of the bullet vibe, I’m lost. I melt, bearing down on him as stars spin behind my eyelids. My second orgasm is even more powerful than the first one. A moment later, his voice reaches a crescendo, and he surges inside me, with both arms wrapped around me.

When he releases me, I slide to one side, utterly boneless. He kisses my cheek as he gets up, and I lie there in a daze as he goes into my bathroom. I float through the sound of running water and the shuffle of his feet against the tile floor, returning to the waking world only when he slides into bed beside me again and pulls me into the position of little spoon.

“This is the hug,” he chuckles against my neck. “I see it now. Very funny.”

I’m so relaxed I can barely respond. “What does that mean?”

“I was the donkey of a joke earlier,” he explains.

I’m in no condition to parse that comment, so I settle for nestling closer and sighing. “That was amazing. I’ve never come so hard.”

“Si?” He squeezes me. “I am glad to be hearing it. For me, it is amazing also.”

My fingers trail along his thigh. “Do you have to be anywhere in the morning?”

“Not early. Why?” He squeezes me again. “Should I stay?”

“You’re more than welcome to sleep here,” I tell him.

“Si, please. I like to hear your heartbeat against my cheek.” His breath is warm against my back, and it is such a relief to be touched by him, to lie here with him, to feel so content and so safe and so utterly satisfied.

As I drift off into bliss, I wonder what he said to me, right before he came.