Bender (Vegas Venom Book 4)

I can feel Marco throwing in the towel, but I haven’t yet. I keep on top of our socials, posting at least once a day, making sure that we both stay visible. Thanks to the meeting with the reps Julie arranged before the shit hit the fan, I’m booking work months in advance. My days are busy and as happy as I am to see the offers coming in, I hate spending so much time away from Marco when the clock is ticking down. I almost feel like me killing it in my career is a betrayal of his. This time—when a relationship is new—is when a couple should feel happiest. And although we feel really close through our shared goals, a dark cloud of doom still hangs over us that we can’t chase away.

We decide to do our second fan-chosen date at the thirty-day mark, the halfway point between Marco being let go and the date that his visa expires. He still won’t tell me where we’re going as we bundle into the car.

“Any word from Dante?” I ask, although I’m not sure why I bother. If Marco had any news about his old boss’s potential change of heart, I’m sure I’d be the first one to know.

Marco shakes his head. “Non, bellissima. He is being full stubborn, which I know all too well. For a man like Dante, having his power, it is everything.”

Squeezing his bicep, I say, “Sorry for bringing it up right before our date, I’m just worried about you. I want to support you any way that I can.”

Marco takes one hand off the wheel and lays it on my knee for a moment. “I know this, Madison. You care so much, and I am very grateful. But tonight is our date, okay? We don’t need to bring Dante along with us. He is an unwelcome fifth wheel.”

We pull into a shopping center, and Marco parks while I peer around. There’s nothing here but box stores, which seems like a weird choice for a date.

Marco kills the engine, then twists in his seat to face me. “Alright, cara mia, here is the date. Do you remember when you and your friends challenged Goodwill and wore silly clothes?”

I pretend to be offended. “You said I was sexy!”

Marco leans over to kiss my forehead. “And you were both, si. The fans liked this very much, so now you and I will challenge Target.” He pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it to me.

I unfold the paper and read it. “Target Date Night Challenge. You have half an hour and a fifty-dollar budget to collect the following five items for your partner: their favorite snack, their favorite drink, something they need, something that reminds you of them, and something you want to try together later.” I lift my eyes from the paper without moving my head. “Okay, and then what?”

“Then we go home and show each other what we have found.” Marco pulls out two reusable shopping bags from the back seat. “I am bringing these so that we cannot see what the other bought until we are ready. This is a fun idea, si?”

“Very fun.” I place one hand on the door handle. “Thirty minutes starts…”

“Now,” Marco says.

We both launch ourselves from the car and run for the front door, laughing like a pair of fools who don’t have a single trouble in the world.

* * *

By the time we stumble through the apartment door, I’m still giddy. “Are we gonna do a TikTok live to share our booty?”

Marco’s eyes widen. “Why would you want to share your booty with anyone but me?”

“Settle down, sir.” I kiss his cheek before hurrying over to the couch. “I mean, like, pirate booty. The spoils of war. Our Target haul.”

Marco chuckles. “I see, I see. Arr, matey, let us be sharing our booty.” Hearing him try to do that stereotypical pirate accent through his heavy Italian one sends me into a fit of giggles, and I almost knock over the recording setup. Sometimes I can go five, even ten minutes at a time without thinking about our situation. It would be so easy to get comfortable here, with the two of us in this apartment. I wonder how amazing I would feel if we were just free to enjoy each other as our relationship blossoms into something even stronger.

With Marco, everything’s easy. It just flows.

I did have another idea come to me recently, something that nobody put on the list at dinner the night we brainstormed, but I’ve been turning it over in my mind ever since. I’m not sure how I feel about it yet, and since Marco hasn’t said anything about it, I haven’t, either. But it’s there, nagging at me.

That’s a conversation for another time, however, so I finish setting everything up before dropping onto the couch next to Marco. I took a few stealthy photos while we were shopping, including a couple of him when he didn’t know I was looking. I’ve already posted them on Insta to get our fans excited about this Target date.

“Hi, everyone!” I wave to the camera. “It’s been a minute, but we finally got to go on our long-awaited second official date! Those of you who voted might already know that we did the Target challenge, where we did a five-item scavenger hunt. Marco, would you like to show what you think my favorite drink is?”

Marco nods. “Ah, well this one is not exact, but it is as close as I can get.” He reaches into his bag and produces a bottle of Starbucks bottled Mocha Frappuccino. “To me, this is as bad as the pizza cheese, but this is good for you, si?”

“Oh my gosh, I love these things!” I swoon on the couch. “I feel so seen right now.”

Marco sets the bottle aside. “And for me?”

I grin. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.” When he does as I ask, I set a plastic bottle in his outstretched palms. “Okay, open up.”

Marco gasps and clutches the bottle to his chest. “Pibb Xtra!” he cries. “Like in the theater!”

“You like the snacks there the best. And speaking of snacks—” I fish out a few of the theater-candy boxes: Raisinets, Milk Duds, Skittles, and those weird pink-and-white licorice things that look like horse pills. The latter aren’t my favorite, but Marco adores them. “I’m telling you, these things are like a dollar when you don’t pay theater prices.”

I thought it would be funny to pick them, but Marco looks like he’s on the verge of tears. “You know me so well, cara mia.” He piles my gifts in his lap before reaching for mine. “I got you chocolate.”

I sneak a glance at him. “Of course, you did, because I’m basic like that. Ooh, Reese’s Cups.”

“And I am also getting you something that you need.” He hands me a pill bottle.

That stops me short. “Why would you get me—” I register what it is just before I read the label aloud and start laughing so hard I can’t go on. Leave it to Marco to get me a bottle of Vitamin D.

“It is good for you.” He even manages to keep a straight face until I let out a truly egregious wheeze, and then he finally gives in and joins me.

“This makes me look so lame,” I cackle. “I left this one for last and totally panicked.” I toss him a tube of toothpaste.

He wiggles his eyebrows. “Oral health is key. You never know when you will need your mouth for something important.”

I lose it all over again. I don’t even dare look at the comments.

We were supposed to get each other something that reminded us of the other person. Marco picked out a necklace with an M&M keychain. “For Marco and Madison,” he explains. “And so that we will remember our date when I sang to you under the Rialto.”

“Maybe you can sing to me under the real Rialto sometime,” I suggest.

He nods, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Maybe.” Still, his face lights up when I pass him the Funko Pop figurine of a hockey player.

“I know his outfit is all wrong, but he kind of looks like you,” I say, feeling a bit silly.

“He is perfect,” Marco says. “I will be thinking of you every time I look at him.”

My last gift is a bit less TikTok-friendly, and I hem and haw before pulling it out of the bag. “So, the last thing was something to try.”

“Oh, si, I am very excited!” Marco sticks his hand in his bag. “Mine is something to try together, which I have never done, but it sounds very exciting!”

“Same. Let’s show them together. On the count of three. Three… two…”

“One!” we cry together. Both of us pull our hands out of our bags. A bottle of warming K-Y jelly rests in my palm. Marco is holding a two-player version of the card game Exploding Kittens.

Heat creeps up my face. “Oh my God, I look like a total pervert right now, don’t I?”

“Non, non, this looks bueno!” Marco assures me. “A different kind of exciting. I think your idea is very good, and I considered this as well. But then I am seeing Exploding Kittens, and I have so many questions that must be answered.”

I turn toward the camera, still blushing furiously. “Well, that’s everything. The perfect dates. Drinks, snacks, card games, and, um—”

“Vitamin D!” Marco crows.

I hastily end the live video. “Well, that was fun. Do you want to get caffeinated and figure out what the card game is all about, or…?”

Marco examines the bottle of K-Y lubricant. “Is warm good? This is meant to make everything have tingles, I think. Would you like to try?”

“Won’t it get sticky out here?”

“Maybe not.” Marco lifts his eyebrows. “We could do something else, maybe? Something where I can feel you against me?” When I frown, he hastily adds, “No penetration. If you do not like it, we can move to the bedroom, okay?”

“Okay,” I agree. “I’m always up to experiment.”

Marco spreads the blanket over the couch cushion. “Undress, please?” He shucks off his shirt without waiting.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to move this to the bedroom anyway?” I ask, even as I drop my shirt to the floor in a little heap.

“Si,” he says. “I like it here, where we must be so close. It is… cozy.”

I finish undressing, aware of the weight and heat of his gaze. I know I look good, but the way Marco admires me is almost worshipful. He adores me. Every inch of me. Even the inches that ignorant people think I should change.

It’s a powerful thing, to be wanted like that.

His eyes rake over me, leaving a scorching trail in their wake. Anticipation of what we’re about to do grabs hold of my emotions and pulls them through the wringer.

I sit down next to him, and he nudges me until I lay back with my head on the armrest. Marco settles over me, still wearing his underwear, his expression soft and loving as he settles between my legs. He opens the cap of the lube and drizzles a healthy amount of it into his palm, warming it with his hand as he bends down to kiss me.

I’ve always associated speed with passion, and urgency with desire. Marco’s kiss is slow as molasses and sweet as honey, but it’s no less passionate for that. He focuses all his attention on my bottom lip, kissing me until it burns. At the same moment that his tongue probes into my mouth, his palm covers my pussy. The sensation is enough to make me gasp, and Marco groans in response, two fingers already sliding into me.

I didn’t count on how sensitive I would be. Waves of warming sensation flow over me, traveling from my pussy throughout my entire body. God, why haven’t I ever tried this stuff before? It’s literally amazing. It doesn’t take long for my first orgasm to leave me shuddering beneath him. Whatever he’s doing with his fingers is fucking incredible—looks like this guy not only knows his way around a woman’s clit, but he can find my G-spot without fail.

As I writhe beneath him, I find myself thinking of what life will be like two months from now. I meant everything I ever said about long-distance relationships and how I’m determined to make ours work. But how long will we have to be apart?

How long will it be before one of us blinks and things change?

And once again, I wonder if there’s another solution.

For now, I tug on the elastic band of Marco’s boxer briefs, and he strips them off, which is easier said than done in our current configuration. He lets out the sweetest moan as he strokes himself, then rests his whole weight against me, rubbing the hot length of his dick against my entrance.

“Is this good, cara mia?” he asks in a ragged voice.

“Yes.” I dig my heels into the couch for leverage, lifting myself to meet him. I want him inside me right this instant, but not so bad that I fail to appreciate the moment. It feels good to press my skin to his, to touch each other with nothing between us. He presses his fingers inside me again, thrusting them with each rock of his hips. We’re tangled together, contorted around one another.

Cozy, like he said. I like this. Even if it’s not enough to make me come again, I like this.

Marco pants against my throat. “I love you, Madison.”

I stop moving. “Marco, I—”

“You do not have to say it, amore.” His voice is thin and tight. “You do not have to say it, but it is true, I love you.”

I dig my fingers into his shoulders. “I love you, too.”

Marco lifts his head and gazes into my eyes. “You mean it? You are not just saying the words back to me?”

“Of course.” I kiss him deeply, running my hands through his hair, down his back, over every inch of him that I can reach.

The thrust of his hips becomes more erratic. When he finally breaks the kiss, he drops his forehead to my collarbone.

“Say it again, amore,” he whispers. “I am needing to be hearing your voice.”

“I love you,” I say. “Marco, I love you. I love you so much, I—”

He lets out a guttural sound in the back of his throat even as his cock jumps between us, and he spills onto my belly.

“Ah, forgive me.” He sits back on his heels, clearly doing his best not to touch anything. “I am very sticky all over. Let me bring you a towel.”

“It’s fine.” I sit up on my elbows. “Good thing you put the blanket down, though, since I’m pretty sticky, too. How would you feel about a shower?”

Marco struggles to his feet, then scoops me up like I’m precious to him. And I must be because he loves me. And I love him. He seems a bit chagrined, although I don’t understand why until he sets me on my feet next to the tub.

“I am sorry. I should not have said it then. The first time I said it, I thought there would be candles and flowers, a nice dinner, something romantic and beautiful.”

“Did you mean it?” I ask.

He swivels to face me. “Of course!”

“Good, because so did I. I don’t need candles or a nice dinner to be happy, you know. I just need you. Marco, you have one of the most beautiful hearts I’ve ever seen.”

Marco starts the water, then pulls me in for another kiss. “I love you, Madison,” he whispers against my mouth.

As the man I love shows me that he returns it with every look, every touch, I decide right then and there. We’re joined together now, body and soul. I’m not letting this guy get away from me. He’s straight up my forever.

No matter what.