Marc Nassar

"You have such a lovely home, Marc," Vivian says while glancing around the foyer. She fiddles with her diamond necklace and...shit. I should have just canceled with her tonight. I kept going back and forth. But now, with the way her eyes are glittering, taking in every surface, I may have made the wrong decision.

It was supposed to just be a casual dinner out, introducing her to the girls. Low key.

But this right now? This feels high key. Showcasing my home promises so much to someone I've only been on two dinner dates with. Right?

Also, only three weeks ago I was telling Celeste I don't bring random women home. And here I am, bringing a woman no one in my house knows about, home.

I sigh and shake off the nerves, the clink of my keys on the side table rooting me back into reality.

This is my home. And Vivian isn't random. And it isn't too soon. I need to know what the twins think of her sooner rather than later.

Vivian, as it turned out, shows a lot of potential for being a wife and a mother. She's attractive, smart, amiable, seems to be good with kids, and comes from a good family. Objectively, it makes sense for us to continue down this path of going on dates and getting to know each other. Plus, all that talk about sex a few weeks ago made me realize I do need to get back out there. If the kids approve of Vivian, I could see myself taking those next steps soon.

And our dates have been good. More vanilla compared to other dates I've been on in the past with conversation that wasn't anything to write home about, but that's exactly what I need.

What I'm doing is what's best for me and my family. Especially since I haven't managed to get Celeste out of my mind since our meet up over coffee. These past three weeks I've had to stop myself from asking for more updates from Kristina about Celeste than what's reasonable. After getting her set up with every gadget available in her room, and setting up her car insurance, I told myself to back down.

And bringing Vivian here sends a message to not only Celeste but to every single one of my staff— I'm a man with interests elsewhere.

Still, dread fills me like a heavy barbell pressed against my chest as we walk toward the kitchen. My fingers turn cold against the metaphorical metal but I work hard to push it up.

It's eerily quiet here.

We reach the kitchen and find it empty, except for Celeste, who's in a rod-like stance and has her arms folded across her chest, facing the entryway. My heart skips frantically and I smile. She is, without question, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. "Hey, Celeste. Where are the girls?"

"They're upstairs, getting ready for bed," she bites out, unsmiling and with nostrils flaring a little.

"I thought we were having dinner."

She scoffs, eyes still trained on me and not veering toward the woman quiet on my left. "That was nearly an hour ago."

I glance at my watch. It's been about twenty minutes since I texted. "I texted I was going to be late."

"Not forty five fuuuuu-" She catches herself and slams her mouth together tight, her jaw feathering before she speaks again, "Not forty five minutes late!" Her face is glowing slightly red and my pulse shoots up.

"Oh, hon, it was my fault!" Vivian chimes in. "I asked Marc for a little extra time to get ready."

Celeste doesn't pay her any attention and continues to stare at me with her frown deepening, alerting every nerve ending in my body, including the ones near my dick. "The food that's left is on the table. Enjoy your dinner, Mr. Nassar," she says with disdain dripping off each syllable before leaving the kitchen.

Okay first, I should in no way be turned on by that display. Stop it.

Second, I'm not that late.

And third, the girls are still awake so I'll still get to see them. Why is Celeste acting like I'm the worst person to ever walk this planet? My skin prickles hot.

I turn to Vivian who's unsmiling, but baring her bright, white teeth, with confusion sealed into her thin brows. "Sheesh, that was rude of her. Is she regular staff?" she asks.

My pulse is pounding in my eardrums. What the hell has gotten into Celeste? Is she upset I brought Vivian over? "Excuse me, Vivian. Please make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back." I swiftly leave and head out the back door and down the brick pathway to the staff quarters.

The setting sun is creating an orangish glow over the property, but I zero in on the jet black hair bobbing down the path. "Celeste! Wait!" I call out. The breeze is warm, hitting my already hot skin as I swiftly follow after her.

If she hears me, she's ignoring me and continues down the hill to her room. My strides grow longer and soon, I'm catching up to her, walking past the tall trees with swaying branches that line the pathway. "Celeste!"

She stops abruptly and turns around to face me. Her face is deadly calm but her neck is corded. "What?"

More adrenaline rushes through me as I step toward her. "What is your problem?"

She scoffs. "You can't be serious, Marc! You're my fucking problem!" She turns to leave but I catch her arm.

Her smooth skin is warm under my hand. Awareness of the touch settles into a thousand buzzing bees within my stomach. I keep my hand where it is. "Stop! Tell me what's going on!"

She yanks her arm out of my grip and squares her shoulders. "Oh, now you want to know what's going on?"

"Yes! Please tell me."

"For the past forty five minutes, your daughters have been asking where their dad is. For the past forty five minutes, your daughters have been heartbroken that the meal they poured their heart into making for their dad was getting cold and would be going to waste because their dad who said he was going to be here wasn't fucking here! You know what Laila said? She said, 'I wish Dad could eat with us so I can hear about his day.'"

A slice of pain shoots through my chest as I glance at my watch. Did I get my times mixed up? I said about an hour, but maybe I got it wrong in my head while I was so preoccupied with deciding whether or not to extend the invite to Vivian. "Why didn't anyone text me?"

"We tried to call you! And it's not my job to make sure you meet your fucking commitments. Also, where the fuck have you been these past couple of weeks? It's not just today! They've needed you to show up on more than one occasion! It's like you don't even give two shits about them!" She throws her hands in the air. More pain slices through me and I'm stunned to silence, blinking at the woman that's being more honest with me than anyone I've ever known in my life. The only people who talk to me like this are my opponents in the courtroom and none of them even speak with as much fire as Celeste.

"What the hell? Celeste, I'm sorry I'm late. You're right, I should've been here sooner. I lost track of time and I know that's no excuse. But what I never want to hear out of your mouth again is that I don't care about them." My veins shoot with energy and I take a step closer. "Everything I fucking do is for my daughters. The company I own, hiring you and the others, this goddamn house, it's all for them."

There's defiance written all over her tight jaw and a distinctly challenging stare. The cobalt in her eyes are like calcified flames dancing in the night, drawing me into its heat and hypnotizing me with its astounding beauty.

"But as for these past few weeks, I've been busy," I continue in a low tone. "And the girls understand my work schedule. This is how it usually goes and they know it." Heaviness settles in my throat. "Plus, they don't even fucking like spending a lot of time with me. They say they do, but every time I'm with them something happens."

She tilts her head back and her jaw slacks. "What? You must be joking! Of course they want to spend time with you! And they're kids! Things always fucking happen!"

"No! I'm not a good dad. I've never been qualified for it and they know that."

Her eyebrows shoot up and her mouth opens, but no words come out. I briefly glance down at her full lips and again the urge to touch them is blazing across my fingers. "Marc." Her voice is soft and pulling at the heaviness in my chest. "I swear on everything that I can possibly swear on, they want you here." Her eyes search my face and she releases a breath. "Please, I'm begging you, please be here when you say you're going to be here and please make time for them. As someone who grew up without a dad I can't tell you how many times I wished my dad would walk through the door and love me by spending time with me. Your girls love you no matter what, even if you do actually fuck everything up and they say they hate you, they won't truly hate you. All they want is for you to love them in the way they perceive being loved is."

Her plea sends the bees in my stomach to every extremity in my body. My mouth opens and closes. Celeste has only worked here three weeks but is speaking about my daughters like...like what? Like she loves them?

And like she would risk her job for them?

A tear slides down her cheek and without thinking I bring my hand up to catch it. She takes a sharp, audible breath of air in through her open mouth when I place my palm around her jaw and swipe the hot tear across her cheek with my thumb. I keep my palm where it is, my stomach being stung with pangs of pleasure and my heart now banging against my rib cage, trying, but failing, to wake me up from this dream.

"P-promise me, Marc. Promise me you'll spend more time with them," she whispers with so much tenderness that it breaks my heart into a million tiny little pieces.

Her eyes are wide, but when she blinks, another tear falls. I catch it with my thumb. I gulp down the lump in my throat as she leans ever so slightly into my hand. "It's not that simple," I whisper back, my voice so gruff it's nearly inaudible.

"Please. Just promise me."

I'm entranced. I can't look away and I can't say anything other than "I promise."

Her eyelids flutter and my hand is now stuck to her cheek from currents of energy that are blinding me from everything but Celeste. She makes no move to push my hand away. Her tongue peeps out, wetting her bottom lip. The heaviness within me quickly gives way to something more potent. The humid air is thick with something other than water.

I slowly move my newly wet thumb down to her bottom lip, pulling it down slightly, feeling the plumpness, and mixing her tears with the stain of her saliva. The touch is more pleasurable than I imagined.

I am no longer in control of this situation. We've both started breathing faster as she slowly wraps her lips around my thumb and sucks, forcing blood to rush south like water from a broken dam. It's so unbelievably hot, feeling her tongue, silky against my finger, and seeing the heated lust in her gaze as she circles her mouth over my thumb. I quickly pop my finger out. W-what are we doing? Yet, before I can even take my hand off of her, she catches it with her hand.

My dick grows rock solid as I take in the dangerous look in her eyes. She slowly trails my hand down her neck to...oh my God! My hand is now fully planted over her right breast. I let it rest there even when she takes her hand off of the back of mine. Hoods appear over her eyes when my hand starts softly pressing, kneading the supple mound on its own accord. Fuck, it's soft and large, fitting in my hand so perfectly, I could...

"Celeste?" Kristina's voice yanks me back to reality.