"You're dating Spider-Woman," Felicia said flatly. "The SHIELD agent investigating you."
"I'm exploring the possibility of dating her," I corrected. "There's a difference."
"Marcus." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "This is insane. Even for you."
"It's strategic. If I can build a genuine relationship with her—"
"Then what? She finds out who you really are and arrests you? Or worse, you're forced to manipulate her to keep your secret safe?" Felicia shook her head. "I said I was okay with the harem thing. I meant it. But this is different. This is dangerous."
Maya signed her agreement from across the room.
"I know," I admitted. "But I also know Jessica needs this. Needs someone real in her life. And I can be that for her."
"Without using your powers?"
"Without using my powers for anything except keeping my identity secret. Everything else—the attraction, the connection—that's real."
Felicia studied me for a long moment. "You really like her."
"I do."
"Fuck." She sighed. "Okay. But you need to be careful. One wrong move and this whole thing collapses. And Marcus? When you eventually tell her the truth—because you will have to—she's going to feel betrayed. Are you ready for that?"
"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."
My relationship with Jessica progressed over the next few months.
We saw each other regularly—dinners, movies, walks through Central Park. She was slowly opening up, sharing pieces of her past and her fears. I did the same, being as honest as I could be without revealing the complete truth.
She still didn't know I was the person SHIELD was investigating. Natasha had apparently shifted focus to other leads, though I knew it was only a matter of time before Jessica made the connection.
But for now, we existed in this bubble where things were simple.
We hadn't slept together yet—Jessica was taking things slow, and I respected that. But the physical tension between us was building. The way she looked at me, the way her hand lingered on my arm, the heated kisses we shared when saying goodnight.
It was only a matter of time.
That time came on a rainy Tuesday evening.
Jessica had invited me to her apartment for dinner—a first. She'd cooked, which was adorable, and we ate by candlelight while rain pattered against the windows.
"This is nice," she said softly. "Just… normal. I don't get a lot of normal in my life."
"I like normal," I replied. "Especially with you."
She smiled, but there was something nervous in her expression. "Marcus, I need to tell you something."
My chest tightened. "Okay."
"I'm not just a freelance investigator. I work for SHIELD. As an agent." She watched my face carefully. "And the reason I was so suspicious when we first met is because you're actually on my investigation list."
I forced myself to look surprised. "What? Why?"
"There have been… anomalies. Patterns that suggest someone with unusual abilities is operating in New York. Your name came up because of your rapid success and convenient connections." She took a deep breath. "But I've been investigating you for months now, Marcus. Quietly. And I haven't found anything concrete. Either you're incredibly good at hiding it, or…"
"Or I'm just a lucky businessman," I finished.
"Are you? Just lucky?"
This was it. The moment of truth. I could lie—should lie. But I also knew Jessica deserved better.
"I'm more than I seem," I admitted carefully. "But I'm not what you think. I'm not a threat, Jessica. Everything between us has been real."
"Prove it," she said. "Tell me the truth. All of it."
I stood, moving to the window. "If I do, everything changes. You might not want me around anymore."
"Try me."
I turned to face her. "I'm a psychic. I can read minds, control them, manipulate memories. That's how I've built my success—by making the right people cooperative at the right times."
She stood slowly, her expression carefully controlled. "You're serious."
"Completely."
"Have you used your powers on me?"
"Once. When we first met. I read your surface thoughts to understand who you were. But I swear, Jessica—everything since then has been real. Every conversation, every moment, every feeling. I've never controlled you, never manipulated your emotions or decisions."
"How do I know that's true?"
"You don't. You have to trust me." I moved closer. "But think about it—if I wanted to control you, why would I tell you? I could have kept this secret forever. Made you believe anything I wanted. But I didn't, because what I want is the real you. Making real choices."
She was quiet for a long moment, processing. "This is insane."
"I know."
"I should arrest you right now."
"You could try."
"But I'm not going to." She ran her hands through her hair. "Fuck. I'm not going to because… because you're right. If you'd wanted to control me, you would have. And everything between us has felt genuine. I'd know if it wasn't—I'm trained for this."
"So where does that leave us?"
She moved closer, until we were inches apart. "It leaves us here. With me knowing your secret and choosing to keep it. For now."
"For now?"
"You have to earn my full trust, Marcus. What we have is real, but it's also built on lies. You fix that, prove to me you're not a threat, and maybe…" She trailed off.
"Maybe what?"
"Maybe we can have something more."
Then she kissed me—fierce and demanding, all the pent-up tension between us finally breaking free.
We tore at each other's clothes desperately.
Jessica was all lean muscle and smooth skin, her body a weapon made beautiful. I explored every inch of her, my hands and mouth mapping her curves while she gasped and moaned beneath me.
"Fuck, Marcus," she breathed as I kissed down her body. "I've wanted this for so long."
"Me too."
I settled between her legs, my tongue finding her clit. She tasted incredible, and the sounds she made as I worked her toward orgasm were addictive. When she came, she cried out my name, her hands fisting in my hair.
"Your turn," she said, pushing me onto my back.
Her mouth on my cock was heaven—hot and wet and perfect. She worked me expertly, her hand stroking what her mouth couldn't reach, until I was groaning and close to the edge.
"Stop," I gasped. "I want to be inside you when I come."
She released me with a wicked smile and straddled my hips. Slowly, torturously, she sank down onto my cock, taking me inch by inch until I was buried completely.
"Oh god," she moaned. "You feel so fucking good."
She started to move, riding me with athletic grace. I gripped her hips, helping her set the pace, watching her face as pleasure built. She was beautiful like this—uninhibited, free, completely in the moment.
"Harder," she demanded. "Fuck me harder."
I flipped us over, pinning her beneath me, and gave her what she wanted. Deep, powerful thrusts that made her cry out, her nails raking down my back.
"Yes, fuck, just like that," she gasped. "Don't stop, don't fucking stop."
I didn't. I fucked her until we were both covered in sweat, until she was trembling and begging, until she came around my cock with a scream.
I followed moments later, coming deep inside her with a groan.
We collapsed together, breathing hard.
"Holy shit," she panted.
"Yeah."
"That was…"
"Incredible?"
"Understatement." She turned to face me, her expression serious despite our naked, post-sex state. "But Marcus? This doesn't change what I said. You need to prove yourself. Earn my trust completely."
"I will," I promised.
And I meant it.