Dangerous: A Marcel Styles Fan Fiction

23: Freedom

23: Freedom

   The next day at school was agonizingly long. It seemed like an eternity before the first bell rang without Marcel. By lunch, which seemed like an entire day later, he still hadn’t shown. The first time I saw him since he’d been restrained and read the Miranda rights was in the break room at HJ.

   Tonight’s algebra homework was giving me a headache two minutes into working on it from my lack of understanding. The equations were just becoming harder. I was nearly ready to tear out my hair at the roots when my non-existent thought process was interrupted by a deep, British accent:

   “Hey, babe.”

   I removed my clenched fists from their entanglement around strands of my hair and looked up to the door, seeing a leather-clad boy leaning against it’s frame. He smiled at me his dimpled smile and started over to me in slow strides as I rose from my chair.

   “Hey,” I said before he pulled me in close to him and slipped a short kiss onto my lips. “How was your night in the slammer?” I asked jokingly.

   “It was okay,” he told me, pausing to plant more kisses on my lips. “It wasn’t too long – Harry bailed me out. I missed you, though.”

   His mouth remained pressed onto mine longer in his next kiss, and I felt his hands travelling lower down my back until they reached my ass. I found myself questioning the overall legality of this in a work environment when Marcel’s lips receded from my own and spoke the words, “We need more privacy.”

   I opened my mouth to question his logic, as we remained the only two people in the break room, when he lifted me over his shoulder in one heave, so I was left helpless and giggling at the idiotic display of the strength which had gotten him arrested. He brought me over a few steps to another door, which contained shelves of janitorial supplies. He set me down on my feet once we were inside the small walk-in and shut the door behind us, promptly locking it.

   He turned back to me, emerald eyes glittering and slipped his arms around my waist again. His warm lips went down on mine again and I felt his tongue trying to snake passed my brigade of ivory teeth. This is when I pulled back.

   “Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked him, staring into his coal black pupils. “If anyone sees us, my dad will fire you. Then fire at you…with a gun.”

   His grin just grew wider at my words and I heard him chuckle quietly. He let his hands fall lower and lifted me up with his hands on my ass. As instinct I went along and let my legs wrap around his so it would be easier for him to hold me up. As I giggled, he pressed me against the far wall, which was bare of shelves. “Now you can’t say ‘no.’” he purred teasingly.

   “Wow, a couple hours in prison changed you,” I remarked, probably a little more flirtatiously than I meant it to be.

   He smirked at my joke and stuck his mouth upon mine again, kissing roughly at this point. The back of my head touched the cold wall behind me. Marcel did in fact shove his tongue down my throat again, and I could feel on the inside of my leg a forming erection, despite the fact I was not going that far in the same building as my father.

   “You busy after work?” he asked, taking his mouth off mine only for the second it took him to ask.

   I shook my head noticeably, not removing my pink lips from his and wrapping my legs tighter around him. I knew what he had in mind for tonight, and, now that we had everything sorted out – kind of – I was actually more prepared for our sex session than ever before.