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your cock is raw?” she added for him. Her elegant brows had risen, more like in dare than in question.
    He pursed his lips, finding the knowledge about his uncooperative cock as distasteful as any testosterone-driven being would. Damn, this was embarrassing. “I think we’re going to need reinforcements,” he admitted.
    “Reinforcements?” The word seemed to have piqued her interest. “As in?”
    “I don’t know.” He dropped his hands to his sides, suddenly lacking the courage to look her in the eye. He swiveled back toward the computer, staring unseeingly at the screen. “A professional. Someone who can go at it all night, take turns with me.”
    She propped her hip against the side of the desk, her eyes lighting with…was that interest? “Really? You’d do that for me?”
    He wasn’t sure he completely liked the enthusiasm there, in her voice, the depths of her pretty cat-like eyes. “Maybe,” he grudgingly admitted. And boy, did he feel like shit for saying that. He felt less than a man. Only half a man. A quarter of a man. To not be able to please your own wife…
    “Marcus, I’d love that.”
    And Marcus could tell she did. Her cheeks were colored pink, and judging by the quick rise and fall of her breasts and the heady scent stealing into his lungs, she was more than a little aroused. Marcus wished he might find a potion that would keep him erect all day. Every day. His whole life. Even as a grandpa. So he could satisfy that horny grandma Marly would make. But dammit, he was not even twenty-six and already having erectile dysfunction. Life sucked big time.
    “Marly,” he whispered, his throat suddenly constricting with emotion. “ Baby .” How could this have happened to her? Why , goddammit!
    “You know I’ve had fantasies,” she said.
    This was getting nuts. He didn’t do well with nuts; he was allergic. “Does this mean I’ll get mine? You know, you kissing a playboy bunny, me watching…?”
    She laughed. “I’ll think about it, M. Though I’d much rather kiss a man!”
    He was solemn as he regarded her. “How many should I ask for? One…two?”
    “The whole regiment!”
    “Aw, come on, honey. I can barely stomach the idea of someone touching you and you want a whole pack of men?”
    “Just call someone.”
    He turned to do just that.
    “Marcus?” That hoarse word made him turn to her in concern. She nervously gnawed her lower lip, her eyes watery. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”
    “Yes.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    He took her shoulders in his hands and squeezed. “Don’t be. I’m with you, Marly. I love you, baby, I’d kill for you, you know that.”
    “But this is so weird!”
    Damn right it was. She was in heat , for God’s sake. For once the normal, once-a-month PMS phenomenon didn’t look so bad. But the last thing he wanted was make her worry; he was doing enough for both of them. “Let’s just look at it like an adventure.
    We’ve had those in our days, remember? Driving my Uncle Rob’s tractor into the pond?
    The fireworks in the chicken’s coop?”
    She choked on a breath and nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Poor chickens.”
    “Aw, don’t get all teary on me.” He hugged her, the side of his face tightly pressed to her belly as he squeezed her, and even he felt a knot form in his throat. He hated to see her suffer. Hated to think he wasn’t worthy of her, wasn’t capable, wasn’t man enough.
    “This’ll be our greatest adventure yet.”
    “Will you still love me?” she whispered.
    He understood she needed to hear it, because a part of him wanted to know that, no matter what, Marly would forever love him, too. So he said, “Always.”
    And that seemed to appease her. Even though he still felt like shit.
    She sighed, then spread her arms out. “Now what?”
    “Now you wait,” he gently said, turning back to the computer so he could browse through the yellow pages, jot down a couple of phone numbers, and finally punch some