“No Mr. Right if you want Mr. Wrong, I’ll tell you lies if you don’t like the truth, I don’t wanna be bad, I just wanna be bad enough for you…”


Marie stared at her father as he stood at the front of the banquet hall, speaking into a microphone about the pro bono surgeries he’d be doing at the children’s hospital. It seemed like he could rant about himself forever.

At a table surrounded by people who were more than thirty years her senior, Marie felt suffocated. The air felt heavy, and she set her hand over her chest before she grabbed her clutch and excused herself quietly. While her dad continued on his long-winded rant, she slipped out of the hall, passed through the hotel lobby, and stood out on the front steps. The red carpet had since been removed, and had been replaced by locals and tourists passing by.

She looked upwards, staring at the stars. The sky was clear, and she swore she could see more stars than ever before. The distraction was welcomed, but she was soon brought back to reality as a chill washed over her. Between the option of freezing or having to listen to her father, the cold seemed like the preferable choice.

The shuddering of her shoulders was shrouded by heaviness. She looked down, startled, and noted that the suit jacket Marco had been wearing was now propped over her. And when she looked to the left, she saw him standing there, sans jacket, with his hands shoved into his pockets.

“I hate these things,” he looked up at the sky as well. “Love the charities but hate the events. People talk like they should be praised for just being decent humans.”

Marie sighed and pulled at the lapels of Marco’s jacket, tugging it tighter around herself. “My dad’s not short on ego,”

“You want to talk about it?” He looked at her, running one of his hands through his hair to push it back.

“Not really,”

He nodded and looked down at his Oxfords, “my dad would take us to church every Sunday. And whenever we complained, he’d say it was our duty to go because we should thank God for giving us such a good life. Of course he’d say it in Italian, because he only speaks to my brother and I in Italian. But we’d complain on the walk there, and we’d complain on the walk back, and at that point, life didn’t seem all that good. Because we just wanted to spend our weekends playing hockey, and he made us go to church.” Marco paused and looked over at Marie, “I don’t remember all the hockey games I played as a kid. In fact I remember very few of them, but I remember a lot of the times I went to church, and uh, now I see that it’s been a pretty good life,”

Marie glanced up at him. She wasn’t entirely sure why he was telling her these things. But it didn’t really matter because mixed between the cold and the frustration, Marie leaned into Marco and pressed her lips against his. It only took a moment before she pressed her hands against his chest, and he cupped the back of her neck. She collapsed into his body, rocking her hips against his. Her body would hate her for doing this, because by tomorrow morning, she would wish she’d never done it, but for now, she didn’t care. She couldn’t stand the thought of having to go back into the banquet hall to accompany her father.

“Can we get a room?” She took a moment to pull away from his lips and whispered.

He looked down at her and ran his thumb against her jaw, “are you sure?”

“If I have to listen to my dad talk about himself for one more minute, I’m going to hurt myself,” she stood up on her tiptoes, having some trouble matching his six foot two frame, but eventually reached his neck and nipped at it playfully.

Marco smiled and reached for her hand and led her back into the hotel lobby. Mostly everyone was gathered in the banquet hall, so neither one of them worried too much about being seen. He strode coolly to the check-in desk.

“Can I get a room, please?” He spoke softly, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

While he was pulling it out, the concierge stared at Marie, assuming why he needed the room. But she continued the process of getting him a room anyways. He set his credit card down on the counter and then turned to Marie, tugging on his jacket to pull her closer to him. She giggled and fell into his body, setting her hands along his waist and played with his belt coyly.

“Shit, hide me,” she spat out quietly, spinning around to face the elevators.

Marco furrowed his eyebrows and spun around to look at the banquet hall, seeing Bill looking around anxiously. He turned back around and did his best to look nonchalant but also hide Marie at the same time.

“Marco!”

He looked at Marie, then at the concierge, and then back at Bill who was approaching him. The new angle left Marie pretty exposed, and while she was draped in Marco’s jacket, she was afraid her father would be able to recognize her.

“Oh, I apologize,” Bill said, nodding his head towards Marie. Apparently he was unable to discern that the woman with Marco was actually his daughter. “I can’t find Marie, and I thought you might know where she is…”

“I don’t… I saw her go out for some air, but I’m not sure Doctor Thatcher,”

Bill nodded and backed away, retreating into the banquet hall. Only when the concierge called for Marco’s attention, did Marie turn around to see that the coast was clear. Marco took the room key from the concierge, and held Marie’s hand, secretively leading her back to the elevators. They played it cool while they waited for the doors to open, but once they were inside and the doors shut, the clung to each other passionately.

Marco pushed her up against the wall, his body smothering hers as he bent over and sucked on her neck, skillfully maneuvering his knee between her legs to spread them apart. She tilted her head to the side, moaning quietly as the way he moved her to get what he wanted turned her on. They were interrupted as the elevator rung, and the doors opened up. They stood straight, trying to pretend like nothing had been going on, but thankfully no one was waiting for the elevator, because Marie feared they weren’t too convincing.

He escorted her to the room and slipped in, making quick work of his shirt and tie, tossing both onto the bed while simultaneously reaching for Marie’s hips. It was then she noticed the tattoo on his left forearm. Between him always being in long sleeves and the darkness they usually found themselves in, it was the first time she noticed the script along his arm. She resisted him playfully, allowing her hips to rock into his. He pecked at her bottom lip and nudged his jacket off her shoulders, letting it fall to a crumpled pile on the floor. Without hesitation, he reached for her cleavage, accentuated by the plunging neckline of the dress.

While Marie should’ve been thinking about all the things she wanted the man in front of her to do, her mind was just elsewhere. As Marco fondled the dress, she kept thinking how her dad had bought this to make her look attractive to everyone she interacted with tonight, and how it was a ploy to use her like a prize. So while she should’ve been enjoying everything Marco was doing to her, she turned her head to the side, played with the ends of his hair, and allowed him to do what he wanted to her.

For any other guy, that probably would’ve worked, and they probably would’ve continued, but when Marco felt she wasn’t reciprocating, he backed away and looked down at her. He still had her embraced in his arms, but now his touch felt almost platonic.

“Did I do something wrong within the past two minutes?” He asked quietly, hoping for some reassurance.

“No, you’re just,” she trailed off and looked at his chest, admiring the way his muscles flexed to hold her, and then danced her eyes up to his, “perfect.”

His cheeks got redder, and he shook his head, pulling his arms away from her and searched around for his shirt, flustered, “no I’m not.”

Marie reached out for his arm, grasping his bicep gently, “Marco, you go to church.”

“So that makes me a good person?” He smiled and licked his lips.

She ran a hand through her hair and let go of his arm, taking a seat on the bed, crossing her legs beneath her. “No, but it makes you a hell of a lot better than other guys I’ve been with.” She pulled at the end of her dress, forcing the fabric to cover her leg that was exposed by the slit. “Every guy in my life has let me down, and I’m afraid that if I give you the chance to get into my life, you’ll let me down too. I think so highly of you, and I don’t want that to change.”

“You have no reason to believe I’m going to become a fixture in your life. I’ve only met you a handful of times, fucked you once… almost twice. Why can’t we have the sort of relationship you’ve had with every other guy?”

Marie looked up at him, “you mean you just want to use me for sex?”

“Isn’t that what you want?”

Marie ducked her head and reached down to unbuckle her shoes, “I wanted you to not think of me as a child.” She kicked the heels off and rolled onto her side in fetal position.

Marco gulped and sat down on the edge of the bed with his back facing her. He didn’t say anything for a while, and that frightened Marie. Even as he sucked a deep breath in, she was unsure of what was going to come out of his mouth. “I respect you for telling me you’re afraid. That’s not easy to do. I don’t respect you any less because we’ve already… had sex. And I surely do not see you as a child; but an intelligent woman who sometimes settles for less because it’s what she’s be told she deserves.” He looked around and reached for his shirt, “I don’t know you very well, but in the short moments we’ve talked, I don’t think I’m too far off with that assumption.”

As he lifted his shirt off the bed to put it back on, Marie reached for the sleeve, tugging it still. “Do you think I deserve you?”

He turned to look at her, “better.”

“What if, for right now, I don’t want better?” She shrugged subtly, sitting up and scooted closer to him, brushing her lips against his. It was a total 360 within a short amount of time, and Marie felt like an emotional roller coaster, but what Marco had said was true. In the brief moments they’d interacted, he’d been able to figure her out in ways that every other guy could never understand. And he did so while also giving her the greatest pleasure of her life.

He kissed her back quickly, watching her carefully as she stood up in front of him with her hip propped out to the side. Then ever so slowly, she pushed the fabric straps off her shoulders, shimmying her body to coax the red dress down inch by inch. Marco watched on eagerly, his smile growing wider and wider as the dress finally fell to her ankles, leaving her in patterned red, lace underwear.

When she stepped closer to him, his hands reached for her, reveling at the sight of her, and he leaned in to press his lips just below her bra, while his hands fondled her bare ass. She felt small in his hands, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, whimpering softly as his lips trailed down her stomach and to her hip. He kissed the soft patch of skin just above her hipbone while his fingers wrapped around her lacy thong and eased it away from her center.

Everything in her was already pulsing, anticipating each of his movements, and she practically melted into him as he positioned her to straddle his body, and then lay back against the bed, working her forward until her legs straddled his head. Marco kissed his way up her inner thigh and pressed his hands into her ass, encouraging her to sit more squarely on him. When she was close enough, he parted his lips and licked along her core, smiling gently as a sharp gasp escaped her lips.

She looked down and watched him flick his tongue against her clit, earning a quiet moan, and his eyes darted up to meet hers, hoping to catch the pleasured expressions of her face. Marie brought one hand up to her lips and covered her mouth as her moans got louder when Marco sucked her swollenness into his mouth. And she leaned back on her other hand, pressing it against his chest for stability. She was becoming undone all too quickly, overwhelmed by how the pain from the night before was replaced by this amount of extreme ecstasy.

Marie traced her hand down from her mouth to her breasts, and then finally to Marco’s hair, tugging at it furiously as her legs began to flinch shut each time his tongue passed over a sensitive area. Her giggle turned into a throaty groan, and she looked down when she felt Marco smile against her again, this time wrapping his arms around her legs to hold her still. But now, his fingers were in the perfect position to massage her clit in quick circles, while his tongue rimmed her tight entrance.

“Jesus… Marco…” she gasped out, flicking her head back, “I’m gonna…” She couldn’t even get the entire sentence out before Marco hummed against her, and she completely lost it. She screamed out in passion as her body went rigid, fingers pulling gently at his hair, and her legs squeezed around him tighter. “God… Fuck… Jesus…” she gasped for breath as he continued to eat her until she completely rode out her orgasm.

Her chest was heaving and with her muscles being spent, she slid off of Marco and lie beside him, panting to try and get her breath back. He chuckled and sat up, only to lean back over and push her legs apart, licking along her inner thighs to partially clean up the mess he had left behind. And when he was satisfied with that, he sat back up and fiddled with his slacks until he could kick them off. Only then did Marie realize the massive bulge in between his legs.

“I would blow you…” she began, still fighting with her lungs for air, “but I can’t breathe.”

Marco smiled and slid beneath the starchy sheets, successfully covering Marie as well. “So it was good,” he smirked and kissed her shoulder blade as they spooned.

“Actually I had to pretend you were Charlie…” she joked, only to be attacked by the tickling pinches Marco followed up with. She writhed in his arms, pressing into him, feeling his throbbing shaft against her hip. And once their tickle war ceased, she turned to face him, “wish I could take care of that for you.”

He set his hand on her cheek and curled his fingers around her ear, “seeing as though you’re the reason for it, I think you’d be able to take care of it.”

Marie grinned and carefully pushed his boxer briefs down, tucking them beneath his balls and wrapped her hands around his shaft, slipping her thumbs back and forth against the head of his dick. His breath became uneven and he stared down at her, moving his thumb back and forth against her cheek. Her smile got wider and she began stroking him, going up and down his length with each one, and twisted her hands in opposite directions when she reached the tip with each pass.

With the monotonous motion, she felt her eyes become heavy, and although she could hear him moaning quietly and getting closer to his own release, she dropped her head to his chest, her motions getting slower and slower. It wasn’t until he was unwrapping her hands from around his shaft, that she realized she was dozing off, and she jolted up in bed as Marco slipped out of it.

“I’m sorry!” She yelled after him.

He chuckled and picked up his phone, momentarily enthralled with messaging someone, before he went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. From in the suite, she could hear him trying to keep his moans hushed, and after a final guttural groan, the bathroom door opened back up, and he walked back to the bed with his underwear in place.

“I’m so embarrassed,” Marie buried her face in her hands and Marco lay back down on his side next to her.

He flung his arm over her lap, “don’t worry about it. C’mon lie down.” He peeked past his eyelids, waiting for her to relax.

Eventually she curled into his frame, taking his hand off of her hip and positioned it parallel with her body. He moaned delightedly at the feeling of his forearm pressed to her breasts, and she hushed him with a gentle kiss to the back of his hand, before she nuzzled her cheek against it.

Notes

"Bad Enough For You" by All Time Low.