12. Xander

CHAPTER 12

XANDER

I can’t remember the last time I spent the night—an entire night, not just a few hours—with a woman.

But when weak morning sunlight streams into the bedroom, Rachel’s still here beside me. Tucked up beneath my arm, curling into my body like an adorable little kitten.

I watch her sleep for a few minutes, the soft whisper of her breath tickling my bare chest. She’s beautiful, so relaxed and peaceful. Her lips are full and pink, and I’m torn between waking her up with a kiss or slipping out and letting her rest.

Her eyes flutter open, solving the problem for me.

“Hi.” She gazes up at me through thick lashes and warmth spreads through my torso.

“Good morning, sunshine. How’d you sleep?” I brush a lock of hair from her eyes and her face cracks into a wide smile.

“Wonderful. Best sleep I’ve had in a long time. How about you?”

“Fantastic. You hungry?”

She nods, her dark hair feathering over my chest. “Starved.”

“Okay. I’ll make us breakfast.”

Standing, I pull on my boxers and grab two T-shirts from my drawer, tossing one to her.

“Just in case. You’re welcome to dine in the buff, but thought you might be more comfortable in that.”

She blushes, sitting up and covering herself with the duvet.

“Thanks. You need help?”

“No. Relax and enjoy some downtime.”

She sinks back into the pillows and I head out to the kitchen.

Pulling eggs and cheese from the fridge, I set the ingredients on the counter before making coffee. I grab two mugs from the cabinet and power on the fancy espresso machine. Depressing the button, I wait as the machine whirs to life. The cup trembles and dark liquid drips into the white glass. As soon as the machine stops, I switch out the cups and hit the button for the second coffee.

“Smells good.”

I glance over my shoulder. Rachel’s leaning against the marble countertop, the T-shirt skimming her upper thigh. My morning wood returns with a vengeance as my eyes skate up and down her body.

She’s a fucking knockout, with her long legs and the perfect amount of curves. Her hair’s tousled from last night, giving her a sexy vibe.

“You want sugar? Creamer?” I hand the espresso to her, and she takes the cup from me, our fingertips brushing.

“Both, please.”

“You got it.” I hustle to get the sugar and creamer for her, along with a spoon.

“Thanks.” She settles on a barstool, ankles crossed demurely.

Somehow, I manage to tear my gaze away and focus on making food. Cracking eggs into a bowl, I whisk until the whites and yolk turn a frothy yellow and then dump the contents into the pan. Rachel watches as I work, sipping her coffee.

“What?” I ask, spatula poised above the eggs.

“Nothing. I’m surprised you cook, is all.”

“Why? You think hockey players can’t cook?”

“I assumed you had a private chef or something.”

“I eat out a lot. But when I’m home, I like to cook. I’m not a gourmet chef, but I have basic skills. Besides, it’s not like making scrambled eggs is tough.”

She smiles at me, her cheeks turning pink. “It’s cute, seeing you all domesticated.”

I grin, warmth spreading through me. “Cute, huh? Most people don’t call me cute.”

“I’m not most people,” she teases, licking her bottom lip.

She’s got that right.

Rachel’s way better than most people. Kinder, funnier, sexier.

The kind of woman a man could fall in love with.

Fuck me.

It’s not even nine AM yet, and I’m talking about love. What the hell’s wrong with me?

Turning the stove off, I sprinkle cheese over the eggs, focusing on the task at hand. I serve the food and carry the plates over to the breakfast bar.

“Bon appetit.”

“Thank you.” She smiles up at me, her eyes glinting in the sunlight streaming through the window.

Without hesitating, I lean down and press my mouth to hers. She kisses me back, her lips moving against mine. Buzzy electricity hums through my body as my fingers twine in the silky strands of her hair, my thumb brushing the nape of her neck.

Sliding my tongue into her open mouth, we tangle together and all thoughts of breakfast are forgotten.

I lift her from the bar stool and she winds her legs around my hips as I carry her over to the kitchen island. Setting her down on the cool surface, she runs her fingers through the waves of my hair. I glide my palm up the inside of her thigh, all the way to the apex of her legs.

“No panties. Dirty girl. I like it.”

Her giggle vibrates against my lips and I swallow the sound, kissing her long and slow. I dip under the T-shirt, sliding my hand up to her bare breast and massaging the soft flesh. She moans as I roll her nipple with my thumb, bringing the flesh to a sharp point.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” I murmur, easing her thighs apart with my other hand. I cup her core, trailing my fingers through her wetness. “Wet and ready.”

Pulling her hips all the way to the edge of the counter, I gently push her back on her elbows before dropping my face between her thighs and licking her pussy. Her eyes flutter closed as my tongue swirls around her clit, sucking. I press two fingers into her wet heat and she contracts around my hand, bucking.

“Fuck, Xander. That feels so good.” Her voice is low and throaty, full of desire.

“I can make you feel better than good, baby.”

With one hand, I pull my shorts down, kicking them off. Then I lift her limp body from the countertop.

“Wrap your legs around me.” I grip her bare ass, squeezing the warm globes and she shimmies against my abs. “God, you’re perfect.”

“Mmm,” she murmurs, her arms winding around me. “Fuck me, Xander. Please.”

“Oh shit. I don’t have any condoms here in the kitchen.”

“It’s fine. I’m on birth control.”

“You sure?”

She nods, stroking her fingers along my jaw. “Yes. Please. Now.”

I lift her up slightly, easing my dick into her tight pussy.

“Don’t go slow. I need you inside me, right now.”

I push all the way into her and her muscles tense around my hard cock, milking me.

“Fuck, that feels good.” I lock my gaze on her and she smiles, a flush creeping from her chest to her neck.

Tightening her legs around me, she thrusts against me and I meet her energy. We find a rhythm, rocking together, her breasts bouncing against my chest.

“Yes…” she cries, her voice tipping up.

Tingly pressure builds at the base of my spine as she rides me, her nails digging into my back. Heat floods through me as I pump into her, over and over again.

“Oh god…” She shatters around me, her muscles squeezing my cock. I keep going, pounding into her and not letting up, chasing my release.

“Yes…” I hiss, hot streams of cum exploding inside her. I press her body to mine, holding her tight against me.

“Wow. That was…wow.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, almost reverent.

“Yes, it was.” I tuck a stray hair behind her ear before kissing her soft and slow on the lips. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

She blushes, pink tinting her cheeks. “Stop.”

“I’m being serious. You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re fucking hot. Hottest thing in my kitchen.” I wink and she laughs.

“You say that to all the girls, I’m sure.”

“No.” I press my lips together, serious. “I promise you, I don’t. You’re special, Rachel. I want to see you again.”

Biting at her swollen lip, she locks her eyes with mine. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes. Who am I to question the hockey god?”