Red, White and Beautiful by Bec Botefuhr Page A

Iwantyoutodothisforme.”
    “Thenwe’lldoit,butyouneedtogetoffyourknees.You’renot lowerthanme,Sierra.You’rerighthere,inperfectline.”Hesays, tappinghisheart.
    Hehelpsmetomykneesandtogetherwestand.Hegripsmyhips andliftsme,puttingmybottomontothecounter.
    “Nomoreknees,butyoucanstillcallme‘sir’.”
    Ismileandlaughsoftly.“Youcantakethemalefromthedom,but youcan’ttakethedomfromthemale.”
    Helaughs.“Thatmadenosense.”
    “Itdidinmyhead.Idon’twantyoutochangeforme,Ikindoflike yourcontrol.”
    “Ohdon’tyouworry,youwon’tescapemypossessivecontroleasily.
    It’sjust…Iwantyoutoknowinthebedroom…it’snolongeraboutthat tome.Makinglovewithyou,onthesamelevel…baby…itdoesn’tget betterthanthat.”
    Igivehimahalf,lazysmileandstrokemyfingersoverthestubble onhischeek.Beforewecansaymore,ourpastaarrives.Marcuspaysthe deliveryboyandthencomesbackin,placingitonthecoffeetable.We bothsitonthegroundandopentheboxes.Thesmellofcheese,garlic, tomatoandpastafillsmynoseandIgroan.Mystomachagreeswithme byrumblingloudly.Marcuschucklesandpourstwowinesandweboth begintodigintothefood.Mid-waythrough,Idecidetoaskhim somethingIhavewantedtoaskhimforawhilenow.
    “Doyouthinkwe’lleverbeabletodothiswithouthiding?”
    Heplacesaforkfulofpastaintohismouthandthinksamoment.
    “Yes,Iwouldliketothinkso.”
    “DoyouthinkChaynewilljustgetoverthisandmoveon?”
    Hefrowns.“No,thatmuchIknow.”
    Ifrown.“Iwishshecouldjustseeit’soverandleavenicely.”
    “Sheknowsthere’salotofmoneyupforgrabs.”
    “Money,it’sanevilthing.”
    Henodshishead.“Right.Openyourmouth.”
    Idoasheasks,andhepopshisforkfullofpastaintomymouth.I giggleasIslideitoffandchewthedeliciousmorsel.
    “Didyoujustfeedme,MarcusHarrison?”
    Hegrins.“Idid.Nextwe’regoingtocurluponthecouchandwatch amovie.Imay,ormaynotcopafeelwhenIpretendtoyawn.”
    Ilaugh.“Arewegoingtomakeout?”
    Hewiggleshisbrows.“Ithinkwe’regoingtomakeout.”
    “Secondbase?”
    “Ifyou’relucky.”
    “Arewegoingsteady,Mr.Harrison?”
    Hegrinsandleansbackagainstthechair,pattinghisfull,butstill firm,belly.“Ithinkwe’regoingsteady,MissWalters.”
    “Well,damn!”
    Withthat,Icrawloverandpositionmyselfinhislap.Hewrapshis armsaroundmeandgrins,pressinghislipstomyhead.
    “Whatarewegoingtowatch,sweetheart?”
    “Ohyouknow,somethingtotallyscarysoIcanburymyfaceinto yourarmwhenI’mafraid.”
    “Niceplan.”
    “I’mfullofthem,”Isay,snugglingcloser.
    “Youwannaknowsomething,sweetgirl?”
    “Always.”
    “Iloveyou.”
    Ifeelmyeyesburnwithunshedtearsathiswords.Ipressmynose intohischestandbreathhimin,deeply.
    “Wannaknowsomething,sexysweet?”
    Hechuckles.“Always.”
    “Iloveyou,too.”

CHAPTER12
SIERRA

    “Whatthefuck?Getmethenumberofthatfuckingreporterright now,Candice.”
    IjerktothesoundofMarcusyelling.Irollandgroan,mybodyis pleasantlyachingafteronelong,hotnightofMarcusandme…well…
    fucking.Well,itwasmoreofacombinationactually.Sexandmaking love.Isitupwearily,runningmyhandsthroughmyhairandtryingto detangletheknots.Iwishwecouldallwakeupassexylookingasthe girlsinthemovies.Seriously,theywakeupwithperfecthairandmakeup.It’srudereally.
    “Findit,Candice,now!YoutellthemIamrequestingit.”
    IrubmyeyesandturnmyfacetothedoorwhereMarcusisyelling athispoorassistant.Whathasshedonenow?Igetoutofthebedandpull onsomelightclothes,thenIwalkoutintotheloungewhereMarcusis pacing,backandforwardandclearlyfurious.Whenheturnstofaceme,I seesomethinginhisgazethatworriesme.It’spityandalookof sympathy.Godwhathashappened?
    “Findit,Candiceandcallmeback.Ineedthatarticledown.”
    Heslamsthephoneclosedandwalksovertome,carefully,asthough he’sapproachingsomeonewhoisabouttobreak.
    “Sitdown,Sierra.”
    Iblinkafewtimes,confused.
    “What’sgoingon?”
    “Thatreporteryesterday…hereleasedanarticlethismorninglikeI