Chapter 31

CHAPTER

THIRTY-ONE

DANI

Oh, wow. I know it’s been a long time, but even in my best fantasy, sex isn’t that amazing. Xander has ruined me for other men, not that I want to think about other men at this minute. This man is consuming my every thought, breath, cell. He’s ingrained himself into my molecular make up with those orgasms.

And now he’s lying under me, still hard inside me, or hard again, I’m not sure, just looking at me like I’m, well, something. His hand caresses my face as he twirls a curl around his finger.

“What’s that look for?” I ask.

“It’s a look of absolute adoration,” he says, not an ounce of hesitancy in his voice. He must still be coming down from orgasm heaven, like me.

“Hmmmm.”

“What? You don’t believe me?” He almost looks hurt.

“It’s not that,” I hesitate.

“Then what?” He sounds genuinely curious .

I shake my head, sit up, and pull away. This isn’t a conversation I can have in post-orgasmic bliss while he’s still physically connected to me. He reaches for me, but I stop him, and true to his word, he doesn’t push.

I gather my clothes, go into his bathroom, and close the door. I need a minute or ten. What am I doing? Was that the best sex I’ve ever had in my life? Absolutely. Do I like Xander? Again, absolutely. But it’s complicated. So complicated. I’m a school teacher, barely making ends meet, a single mother, and I’m in a bathroom bigger than my bedroom. He’s used to glamorous, classy, and expensive. I’m none of those things.

I freshen up and get myself together. When I open the door, Xander’s dressed, sitting on the side of the bed, his head in his hands. His serene smile long gone. A shot of guilt hits me. I did that to him. I took that rare, easy smile away, and he’s reverted to stoic and worried in a blink of an eye. The pang of guilt sits heavy in my stomach that I did this to him.

“Hey,” he says, looking at me, concern filling his eyes.

I need to fix this. At least fix it the best way I can.

I make my way to him and sit beside him on the bed. I lean into his side, and he relaxes. Well, barely. I reach out and take his hand, weaving our fingers together. They were just like that when he had my hands pinned above my head, and the memory makes me think we should get undressed and go again.

“You okay?” I ask.

“I feel like I should be asking you that. I crossed a line, and I’m sorry.” He’s looking at our hands but not making eye contact with me.

“An apology, Alexander. Really?” His withdrawing and punishing himself makes me feel like the worst person on the planet. “Which line did you cross exactly?” I’m a little irritated with him, and he knows it.

He looks at me, pain and regret filling his face.

“Did you cross a line when we had very consensual sex, giving me the best orgasms, and yes, multiple orgasms of my life? I don ’t think so, mister.” The corners of his mouth turn up a little. “So which line, because I’d like to know where the lines are?”

He finally looks at me and sees that I’m not freaking out. His shoulders relax, and he leans in to kiss me. I meet him halfway, and it’s a sweet kiss. It has more feeling, less passion, and scares me more than anything we’ve done. It feels different.

“I’m new at this,” he says.

“Wow. For a newbie, you’ve got moves. I wonder how you’ll improve with practice.” I boop his nose with my finger. My teasing must push a button because the next thing I know, he pulls me into him, straddling his lap, our hands never letting go.

I press my forehead against his and breathe him in. This man is complex, which may be my favorite thing about him. He has so many facets, and he’s multidimensional.

I’m complicated. I haven’t dated much in the past few years because of Tyler. I don’t want to be two different people: a mom and a girlfriend. I don’t want to divide my time and focus. Life is already overwhelming as it is. Besides, I need to protect Tyler from the loss of broken relationships. That’s my job. But what if this relationship doesn’t break?

Unfortunately, complex and complicated can be a recipe for disaster.

But this feeling right now? It’s exciting and a little bit scary. Something I’m willing to explore. But I’m afraid the more I explore, the more addicted I’ll get. It’s confusing, so I need to sort it all out in my head and heart.

“Still hungry?” For him or food? The answer is both.

“Yep. You promised me breakfast.” I glance at his phone lying on the bedside table. He has multiple missed calls and texts, validating he’s a busy and popular man. But another significant observation is that he hasn’t looked at his phone once. He’s solely focused on me and not preoccupied with anything else. Just that thought makes my heart flutter all over again. “Although I think we’ve crossed into brunch at this point. ”

“We have.” He gives a rare laugh, and I’ll cherish it forever. “Tell me the parameters of time and food cravings, and I’ll make it the best brunch you’ve ever had.” He lifts our joined hands and boops my nose with his finger, mimicking me, but still not letting me go.

“Wow. That’s quite a claim, Mr. Decker.” I give him a quick kiss and stand up, going to find my purse and phone. He’s trailing behind me. Good news. No missed calls or texts.

I spin around and find him so close we bump chests and I giggle. “We have an hour and a half before I need to get Tyler. And I want waffles.” I give him a quick peck that seals the deal.

He seems to like my decision, if his grin is any sign. “Great! Give me five minutes to make a quick call, and I’ll be ready to go. Make yourself at home for a few minutes.” He quickly kisses me, walks back into the bedroom, and shuts the door. I hate it when he walks away, but damn, he’s got a great ass. His walking away almost makes up for it.

I look around the massive penthouse and wander over to the glass door that opens to a huge balcony. Like the rest of his place, the furniture looks expensive, but comfortable, like he uses the space to live, not just for show. Like him, his home has layers. But it’s neat, orderly. Everything seems to have its place.

I slide the door open and step out to take in the view. The city skyline is spectacular from this vantage point. The stadium below is empty except for a few grounds crew tending to the grass, a stark contrast to the crowds and celebration of last night.

I’m lost in my thoughts when arms wrap around my waist, pulling me away from the rail. “What are you thinking about?” he whispers in my ear, and chills go down my spine.

“Just how different it is from yesterday to today. Quite the contrast.” So much has changed since yesterday. Not just at the stadium, but with me. With us. I catch the double meaning in my thoughts and wonder if he’s thinking the same thing.

“Yep. They can seem like opposites, but it’s more like balance. Both need the other.” We stand there for a minute, while I think abou t balance. Is he talking about the stadium or us. Before I can ask, he takes my hand and pulls me back inside. “Ready to go?”

“Absolutely. I’m starving.”

“Well, Ms. Franklin, get ready to have your world rocked. I’ll introduce you to waffles that will ruin you for all other waffles.” He kisses me on the cheek and leads me out.

The waffles did not disappoint. I’m not sure there’s much Alexander Decker does that is disappointing.