Marcus stood, offering his hand. "See for yourself."
Sophie took it, letting him pull her up from the couch. She was barefoot now, having kicked off her boots hours ago, and the height difference made her tilt her head back to meet his eyes.
"Lead the way," she said, her voice lower than before.
His bedroom was small – just enough space for a queen bed, a dresser, and a narrow path between them. But the cleaning service had worked magic: fresh sheets that actually matched, the laundry put away, everything that had been chaos now ordered and intentional.
Sophie glanced around, then back at him. "You really did clean."
"I really did."
"For me?"
"For me," Marcus corrected, stepping closer. "Got tired of living like someone who'd given up."
She reached up, fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "I hope you don't give up now."
He kissed her again, slower this time. His hands found her waist, sliding under the soft knit of her sweater to touch bare skin. Sophie made a sound against his mouth – approval, encouragement – and pressed closer.
"This sweater," Marcus murmured against her lips. "It's been driving me crazy all night."
"Has it?" Sophie pulled back just enough to grab the hem and pull it over her head in one smooth motion. Underneath, she wore a black lace bralette that left very little to the imagination. "Better?"
"Worse. Definitely worse."
She laughed, reaching for his henley. "Your turn."
He let her undress him, her fingers working the buttons with deliberate slowness. When she pushed the shirt off his shoulders, her hands explored – palms flat against his chest, tracing the lines of his arms, his shoulders.
"You're in better shape than I expected," she said.
"Should I be offended?"
"Take it as a compliment." She leaned in, pressing her mouth to his collarbone, then his chest. "I'm very pleasantly surprised tonight."
Marcus's hands found the button of her jeans. "Can I?"
"You better."
He undid the button, the zipper, and helped her step out of the denim. She stood before him in matching black lace, and for a moment Marcus just looked at her – the curve of her hips, the way candlelight from the other room painted shadows across her skin, the confidence in her posture.
"You're staring," Sophie said.
"Appreciating, actually."
"Appreciate faster." She reached for his belt. "I'm not a patient woman."
They tumbled onto the bed together, a tangle of limbs and laughter when Marcus's knee caught on the sheets. Sophie ended up on top, straddling him, her hair falling around them like a curtain.
"Hi," she said, grinning down at him.
"Hi yourself."
She kissed him again, rolling her hips in a way that made Marcus's breath catch. His hands slid up her thighs, over her hips, around to the small of her back. She was warm and real and everything he hadn't let himself want in so long.
"Marcus," she whispered against his mouth.
"Yeah?"
"Stop thinking so much."
She was right. He was in his head, cataloging sensations instead of experiencing them. So he stopped thinking and just felt – Sophie's weight on him, her mouth moving from his lips to his jaw to his neck. The way she arched when his hands found sensitive spots. The small sounds she made that told him what she liked.
He rolled them over, settling between her legs, taking his time. His mouth traced the line of her collarbone, the valley between her breasts, lower. Sophie's fingers tangled in his hair, her breathing uneven.
"You don't have to – oh." Her words cut off when his mouth found the inside of her thigh. "Okay, you definitely don't have to stop that."
Marcus smiled against her skin and continued, learning what made her gasp, what made her hips lift off the bed. Sophie was wonderfully vocal, telling him exactly what she wanted – faster, slower, right there, don't stop – and he followed every instruction like his life depended on it.
When she came, it was with his name on her lips and her thighs trembling around him.
"Holy shit," Sophie breathed, pulling him back up to kiss him. "Where did you learn to do that?"
"Paid attention."
"Well keep paying attention." She reached between them, wrapping her hand around him through his boxers. "Because now it's my turn."
She pushed him onto his back and returned the favor with an enthusiasm that made Marcus forget his own name. Sophie was deliberate, teasing, bringing him right to the edge and then backing off with a wicked smile.
"Rubber?" she asked eventually, sitting back on her heels.
Marcus reached for his nightstand, fumbling with the drawer. He'd bought a box yesterday – optimistic preparation that now felt like genius foresight. He handed one to Sophie, who raised an eyebrow.
"You want me to...?"
"I like watching you."
She laughed but took it, opening the wrapper with her teeth. "Cocky."
"Confident."
"There's a difference?"
"You tell me."
Sophie rolled it on with agonizing slowness, maintaining eye contact the entire time. Then she positioned herself above him, one hand on his chest for balance.
"Ready?" she asked.
"So ready."
She sank down slowly, her eyes fluttering closed, a soft moan escaping. Marcus's hands found her hips, steadying her, giving her time to adjust. When she started moving, it was with a rhythm that made him dizzy – slow rolls of her hips, her hands braced on his chest, her hair wild around her shoulders.
"God, you feel good," Sophie breathed.
Marcus sat up, wrapping his arms around her waist, changing the angle. Sophie gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. They found a rhythm together, urgent now, all the teasing and buildup crystallizing into need.
He kissed her – messy, desperate kisses between breathless words. Sophie's movements became less controlled, more frantic. Marcus helped, one hand sliding between them to where they were joined, and she shattered around him with a cry that she muffled against his shoulder.
The sensation of her climaxing pushed him over the edge. He followed her, his vision whiting out, every nerve ending firing at once.
They collapsed together, hearts pounding, breathing hard. Sophie's weight settled on his chest, her face buried in his neck.
"Okay," she said eventually, her voice muffled. "That was... yeah."
"Yeah," Marcus agreed, stroking her back.
She lifted her head to look at him, her expression soft in a way he hadn't seen before. "You're full of surprises, Marcus."
"Just getting started."
Sophie kissed him, slow and deep, before rolling off to lie beside him. She curled into his side, her leg draped over his, one hand on his chest.
"I should probably go," she murmured, exactly as she had on the couch.
"You could stay," Marcus repeated.
This time, she didn't hesitate. "Yeah. I'll stay."
[MISSION COMPLETE: PREPARATION]
[Investment: $247.89]
[Outcome: Optimal]
[Base return: 2.5x = $619.73]
[Intimacy bonus: +1x = 3.5x total]
[Final return: $867.62 in 24 hours]
[New status: SOPHIE marked as PRIMARY TARGET]
[Relationship established: High-value connection secured]
Marcus watched the notifications appear and fade, Sophie's breathing already evening out into sleep against his chest.
Tomorrow he'd have over $2,100. Tomorrow he'd figure out the next move. Tomorrow his revenge would continue compounding.
But tonight?
He closed his eyes and let himself drift off, Sophie's warmth against him, the city breathing beyond his window, his new life just beginning.
The game was accelerating.
And he was finally learning how to play.