Hello :D Just a slight warning to all of those who have read any of my other stories: This one-shot does contain some language and insinuations of sex. Many of them. It is rated M for a reason. Please don't read if you are offended by any of this things.

Also, special kudos to anybody who can guess the movie reference at the end ;)


Beware of the Romance Novel Sex Demon

By

Sparkling Acrobat

.

.

Have you ever noticed how dim-lit rooms make everything feel so romantic and interesting? Or hot? It really doesn't matter that the AC is in the 20's –turn off the lights, light a candle or two, put a bottle of wine to add flavor to the scenery, and there you have it!

Oh, and the shirtless man. Let's not forget the shirtless man.

Like the one who was sauntering his way over to the couch where I was sitting. I could literally see his muscles flex as he walked, slowly and temptingly, showing off that awesome 'V'. Man, when did this become a cheesy romance novel? I shook my head a little and diverted my gaze to his face, his intense brown eyes boring into mine with passion as he dried his wet, wet hair with a white towel. Wait a second; white didn't go with the feel of the environment.

But then again, neither did anything else.

I giggled shakily, grasping my wild imagination before it wandered off into the dark paths of those stupid romance novels. Soon enough, I would be tearing off my clothes and begging him to insert his pulsing sword of manhood into my delicate flower of passion. Right.

"Do I dare ask why you have that disgusted look on your face?" He asked in that deep, husky voice of his that caressed my entire body till –I mean: He asked.

"I'm throwing up inside," I said, rolling my eyes at myself.

"That's attractive, Dee."

He handed me his towel and threw himself on the couch. Sprawling his body so that the golden light of the candle shone deliciously on his –Oh, my God. Stop that.

I covered my head with the towel to cover my blushing cheeks while pretending to dry my dark hair. Internally, I sort of yelled at my brain, because it needed to get used to the idea that I was groping nobody anytime soon. What was really going on was that I had come to Marco's, also known as 'that gorgeous piece of meat' by many, house to pick up Elizabeth's wedding invitations. Elizabeth, also known as my best friend –also known as Marco's older sister and roommate. Yeah.

In any case, Marco had just been coming home when he saw me standing like an idiot ringing the bell. Then he couldn't find his keys. It started to rain. We got soaked. He found his keys (too late). The power went out. He lit some candles so that we wouldn't unromantically fall on top of each other. I had to borrow a change of clothes from him since Elizabeth's room was locked

At the moment, I was very unattractively buried in a man's shirt and sweatpants while I waited for my clothes to dry. Scratch that, I was actually currently fantasizing about a man. And it wasn't any man either. It was my best friend's little brother who I've known for years, the kid who kicked a soccer ball right in my face because I was 'smiling obnoxiously'. I had seen him shirtless too many times to tell –even pantless! I had sold a photo of him to some desperate college freshman who was obsessively in love with him. So, why was I–?

"Are you done throwing up over there or should I give you some more time?" Marco asked. Only that he didn't give me more time as he yanked the towel from my hands forcefully.

Crap. He was still shirtless. I was still mad.

"Done," I muttered.

He shot me a weird look, the same one he gave Elizabeth when she was gushing about Leonardo, her husband-to-be. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," I let out casually. I was good at that.

Marco stared at me a little more, trying to see if I was lying or not. Eventually, he shrugged and threw his head back into the arm of the couch. His body curved and moved forward to accommodate his new position and his leg bumped into mine. I stared at his leg dumbly for a second, but my eyes were quicker than my auto control and traveled slowly up his abs and his chest and the curvature of his neck. I could bite that stuff.

"Um," I started, suddenly scared of my own thoughts. I searched my brain for a topic of conversation, desperate to distract myself. "So, how are you preparing for Liz's wedding?"

He raised his head full of wavy brown hair to look at me inquiringly. "I bought a suit."

I raised an eyebrow at him, sort of imitating his gesture. "That's all? Dude, men are so simple."

Marco smirked baring one fang. "Are you ready for it?"

I morphed my face into fake grief, finally relaxing my position and entwining our legs a little because there was no more space on the couch. We used to sit like this a lot during our "study parties" –that is, we studied while Elizabeth partied in the chair next to the couch.

"You're kidding, right? There is so much stuff I need to do. Like convincing your sister that I won't wear that hideous maid of honor dress she likes so much."

He gurgled in appreciation. "She always had awful taste," he said. "I mean, look at that ugly dude she is going to marry."

"Marco," I hissed threateningly and he threw his head back again.

Marco had never liked Leonardo, and he liked the guy even less when he got engaged to his precious sister. Seriously, sometimes you would think he was the older one.

We fell in what would have been a comfortable silence if my brain hadn't started to work again. I caught the candle flickering on him and my hand itched to touch him there.

"What else do you need to do for the wedding?"

Good God, this guy had perfect timing.

"Go buy lingerie with Elizabeth." Or not. I felt his leg tense again mine, but that was the only reaction I could see. I, on the other hand, slapped myself mentally. "I mean, for her –not me. Y'know, for the honeymoon and Leonardo and –"

"I know," Marco groaned.

At least he had managed to shut my yapping mouth. Seriously, what was wrong with me? Was it the lack of light? When did I become such an idiot? I was analyzing all the times that this transformation could have occurred –starting with that time I was skating and fell on my head– when Marco untangled himself from me and stood up.

"Do you want something to drink?" He asked as he walked toward the center table and grabbed one of the candles.

I nodded and grabbed the other candle to follow him to the kitchen. I stared at his back as we walked and smiled evilly to myself. In all fairness, his back had always been very attractive, even when I wasn't possessed by the romance novel sex demon. Man, how I loved those freckles.

He placed his candle on the kitchen island and turned to open the dark fridge. I put my candle down, too, because I hated burns. But, then again, who liked them?

"There's orange juice, coke, and beer."

I made a pensive noise as I jumped to sit myself on the kitchen island. I dropped my gaze to look at the fridge and its option –only that Marco was in between the fridge and I and I ended up staring at his ass.

"And what a nice ass." My hand flew to me mouth immediately and I muffled and 'I'm sorry' through it.

Marco straightened up and turned to look at me with something halfway between puzzled and amused.

"Were you admiring my ass, Dee?" He asked, barely containing his laugh.

I sighed, letting my hand drop, and feeling utterly defeated. "Yeah."

I expected him to laugh like he usually did back in college when I used to have a crush on him and he caught me staring. Instead, he frowned.

"Is that why you've been glaring at me like you are about to jump my bones?"

He said it so seriously that I almost missed the laughing. Eventually, I bushed and nodded defiantly. Maybe a different approach would work better than the 'acting embarrassed' one.

He smirked again, slowly, showing every white tooth one by one as he covered the one step and a half that separated us. His hands went to each side of my legs, barely inches from touching me.

"You could have just asked," Marco said huskily. This time for real.

I stayed still with his face centimeters from mine. I wasn't quite sure if I was breathing anymore. My lips parted slightly, his followed the motion.

And then he laughed.

I stared at his convulsing figure in shock as those gorgeous abs doubled up mockingly.

"You little bastard," I said, more disappointed than hurt. I should have expected that.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't resist," Marco chuckled out in between laugher.

I rolled my eyes, this time at him, and jumped down from the kitchen island. Only that I miscalculated and knocked the candle, consequently getting burned. Great.

"Ouch!" I winced, hurrying to where I knew the kitchen was and feeling for the handles to turn the water on.

I stuck my finger into the cold water, resisting the urge to suck it. I was about to turn to ask Marco for some ice when I felt him right behind me, plastered against my body.

"What are you doing?" I asked, annoyed at his games.

"I thought you wanted this," he said and I could hear the mock in his deep voice.

I turned around, facing him undeterred by our proximity. I was already tired by the cat-and-mouse chase and if he wanted to play, we could both play. No, I didn't like being mocked.

"Would you mind?" I asked sarcastically, firmly pressed against him. "I have more important things to take care of."

I lifted my burned finger, even though he probably couldn't see it well, and gave him a pointed look.

"Sure you do," he replied back and in a flicker of candlelight he was upon me.

He licked my lips and pulled on the bottom one. I could have resisted; I could have screamed rape. But I didn't want to. Instead, I brought my non-burnt hand to his hair and kissed him back. He smiled against my mouth and his hand started to slowly go up and down the length of my back. Holy crap, that was sexy.

I pulled back to look at him and find out exactly what was going on there. Frustratingly, I couldn't see much as the candle was behind him and his features were mostly obscured.

Fine, I'd have to do it the old fashioned way.

"Why did you do that?"

"You didn't like it?" He asked almost immediately.

I stared at him and titled my head to the side in confusion. Was Marco nervous? I felt his hand on my back falter and then go back to its slow caress. It made me almost want to purr.

"Um, I did like it," I responded suspiciously. If this was one of his tricks…

"Good," was all he said.

I frowned and glared at him. Good?

"Why did you kiss me?" I asked once more. Hopefully, I would get a real answer this time.

He shrugged, still stroking my back. "I kinda like you."

"You what?" I shrieked in surprise.

He was kidding, right? Right? Marco couldn't possibly like me. We had known each other for ages. He had seen me with pimples and in those very bad days of my first periods. He had listened to my relationship problems and told me to dump all those idiots and become a nun. He was like my own brother. Oh, my God –did that make this incest?

"Is this throwing up inside a new thing you've been doing or something?" Marco –my almost brother– asked, snapping me out of my frantic train of thought.

"This is incest!" I told him.

He didn't seem very impressed.

"What? What are you talking about, Dee? We are not related, for fuck's sake," He growled, but I knew he wasn't really mad. "I just told you I like you, ok? Could you please be a little more normal about it?"

I blinked. "Don't you think is gross to like your almost sister?"

"You are not my almost sister."

"True," I smiled. Maybe I should stop reacting like an idiot and actually make my neurons work. Imagine that concept. "So you like me," I meant to ask, even though it sounded like a statement.

"Yeah," he said uncomfortably.

"Why hadn't you said anything?"

He shrugged again. "I don't know. I guess I thought you would be creeped out by your best friend's brother liking you."

"And I was," I replied smartly, suddenly realizing that my finger still hurt.

I brought it up to my mouth and sucked on it. He smiled down at me.

"But you were also looking at me like you were about to orgasm, so I figured I had a good chance that you liked me back."

I blushed furiously. "I did not look like I was about to anything."

Darn those romance novels.

"Whatever," he said, pulling my finger from my mouth. "Point is that I like you. What do you say to that?"

I looked straight at him, my mouth pinched into a firm line. Decisions, decisions. I could tell him to get the heck away from me or confess that I liked him, too. Lie or truth. Sighing, I swore that I was not going to be the one telling this to Elizabeth.

I loosened up against him and smiled. "Let's try that kissing stuff again."

Marco smirked cockily and lifted me up to sit on the edge of the sink. I wrapped my legs around him invitingly and he put his hands on my hips. This was just the way to do it.

He nibbled and licked my ear lobe painstakingly slow. "Anytime, hot-stuff."

And then I smirked and sunk my teeth on his neck playfully. Romance novels had nothing on this guy.


N/A: LOL Ok, I have to say: I had so much fun writing this thing. I'm not sure where it came from (or why), but it wanted to be written and I couldn't resist procrastinating. So, what did you guys think? Guessed the movie reference? :D Show me some love and comment ;)

Lurves,

~Sparks.

P.S.: Thanks to all of you guys who have pointed out my grammar horrors. Keep 'em coming ;) Also, this story was inspired by Shakira's song "Gypsy" --The spanish version of it :) Go watch the video :D

P.P.S.: I keep editing this thing to add more stuff! Anyway, I wanted to tell you guys that I'm very excited about all the countries that pop-up in my stats pages :D I mean, I'm checking the stats of one story and I scroll down and there is this list of AWEsome countries and the numbers of readers from them. It made me really happy. I was like, "Dude, it's like the world cup!" lol You guys should tell me where you are from (leave your review in a different language if you want!) so that I get to know more about you amazing readers ;)