3. Cabs to Be Had

THREE

CABS TO BE HAD

Francesca

I t felt like a dream. Or maybe a scene out of one of the romance novels I’d read too many times. Wallflower bookworm meets tall, dark, and handsome Englishman. So maybe it was a dive bar and not a glittering ballroom. Potato, po-ta-to. It was all the same to me.

A bit of witty banter. A bit of sensual dancing. Sure, maybe nineteenth-century debutantes didn’t offer to get on their knees for their dukes—nor did they generally get down on his for the girl—but the back of a bar was basically an alcove, wasn’t it? A darkened terrace wasn’t that much different from a corner behind the bathrooms.

Not that it mattered now.

Xavier kept his hand firmly in mine during the short cab ride from Amsterdam Avenue to his tiny hotel near Riverside Drive, while we rode the the ancient elevator to the top floor, and all the way until he had finally unlocked the door to his hotel room.

It was nothing fancy. A room barely large enough for the queen-sized bed in the center, a closet-sized bathroom in the corner, and the It was the type of accommodations that were basically one step up from a hostel—private and clean, yes, but not much else.

To someone who had lived with eight people and shared a room with two other sisters for most of my life, it was perfect.

Until it occurred to me exactly why I was here.

There is always a moment in every romance story where the picture-perfect romance gets ruined by someone. A duke with a vendetta. Maybe a long-lost relative with an ax to grind, or perhaps an evil rake who wanted to ruin someone.

In this case, the villain was me.

Because I had a secret.

And unfortunately, once I revealed it to the beautiful man in front of me, I had a feeling he was going to ask me to leave.

They don’t call it the third-act break-up for nothing.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked. “Not that I have much, but some water, maybe?”

I shook my head, feeling even shier than before. What had happened to the brazen girl in the bar?

Alcohol, that’s what. Or the absence of it. Those two lemon drops were long gone. Now I was confronted with reality.

Not a cold one. If anything, the energy zipping through the room made it feel like a sauna.

Xavier emerged from the bathroom with a glass of water and drained it, eyes following me across the room as I moved to look out a window. A few moments later, he had joined me, and I found myself bracing my hands on the sill, readying for what was undoubtedly about to happen. A move. Some kind of.

He had brought me up here expecting something, hadn’t he?

Hadn’t I?

Maybe I would have if I weren’t suddenly a ball of nerves.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want,” he said quietly.

I looked up. Well, that certainly wasn’t what I’d been expecting. “I—what?”

Xavier chuckled and looked out the window, which faced the Hudson River. “I just mean...well, I know we both had an idea of what was going to happen here...at least I did. Er—I mean—I hope I wasn’t the only one to...”

I chuckled. It was nice to know he was nervous too. Why, I couldn’t imagine.

“No, you weren’t the only one with expectations,” I admitted, turning back to the window myself. “It’s only that...” I trailed off too. Why was this so hard?

Two fingers slipped under my chin, tipping it upward so I couldn’t look away.

Xavier’s eyes were dark blue oceans of something. Adoration? Lust?

I didn’t know what love looked like, but in my dreams, it was a lot like this.

Stupid, stupid girl.

“Let me,” Xavier said.

Before I could respond, he leaned down and delivered a kiss—one that started out gently, then quickly grew into something much deeper, much more intense. Before I knew it, I was pressed against the glass, one leg wrapped around his much longer one, tongue twisted around Xavier’s while I moaned like a harlot into his mouth.

When he released me, we were both short of breath.

“Better,” Xavier said.

I swallowed. Hard. “Yes.”

That sharkish grin reappeared. He leaned down to continue. Until I spoke again.

“Xavi...”

There must have been something in my voice that told him all wasn’t right because he immediately straightened, brows furrowed in concern.

“What is it, babe?” Xavier asked. “Tell me. It won’t matter, whatever it is.”

For a moment, I almost believed him. I almost did.

“You should know—I mean, you deserve to know—before we?—”

“Ces.” He stroked a finger around my cheek. “Just say it.”

“I’m a virgin.”

My face flushed as Xavier stared at me with obvious disbelief.

I knew I shouldn’t have said it. But what else could I have done? Laid on the bed like a mummy? Scared him when I eventually cried in pain? My inexperience was going to make itself evident sooner rather than later.

But to my surprise, he cupped my chin ever-so-gently and stroked my cheek with his thumb.

“You—how is that possible?”

I shrugged. “I’m only twenty-two.”

“In a city full of fucking cads,” he said. “You’re like catnip to them. I couldn’t take my eyes off you when we met.”

I giggled. Now he really sounded like a regency novel.

But again, I could only shrug. “You’re the only one.”

“I don’t believe it.”

I sighed. “I’ve been...busy. I live with five other siblings. I’ve always preferred books to dances. I probably go out like this maybe once a year with my friends, and believe it or not, I’m usually in bed by eleven. This is the first time I’ve ever done anything like this. And I mean any of it.”

The more I spoke, the more I turned red. Did he think I was pathetic? A sad little wallflower with nothing to offer by an overwrought vocabulary?

The thumb stroked my cheek again.

“Why me?” Xavier asked softly. “Why now?”

My hand floated up to take his wrist, though I didn’t move his hand from my face. Rather, I liked it there.

“I don’t know,” I said just as softly. “Do you believe in fate, Xavier?”

How else could I explain it? The way I’d never really been interested in anyone else until this one night. The way this man, from the moment he’d opened his mouth, had embodied nearly every fantasy I’d ever quietly nurtured. The way every word, every moment of the evening had felt so far beyond right, that my whole life had seemed to be leading to this moment, in this room.

Maybe this would be a one-night stand. Maybe it was just a Christmas fluke.

But at twenty-two, I was finally willing to grow up. And I wanted to do it with him.

One more stroke of that broad thumb, which then dropped to drift over my mouth.

“I hadn’t before I saw you,” Xavier admitted. “And I swear on all I have ever fucking believed in, Ces. It’s not a line. I don’t remember a fucking thing I cared about before saw you walk into the pub. I forgot why I was in New York. I think now, it was to meet you.”

We both stared at each other.

“Then, that’s that,” I whispered.

“Is it, then?”

We both knew then that whatever happened next was entirely up to me.

I reached up with both hands and pulled him down. “Yes,” I said, tipping my face up for a kiss. “It is.”

The kiss was a slow build of promise and desire. We teased each other with our lips, explored the shape of one another, and savored every nuance of the moment. His strong arms held me close, his hands gripping my waist as if he were taking possession of me. I felt safe in that embrace, protected and valued.

Xavier’s fingers caressed my face before drifting down to push my jacket from my shoulders, then toy with the hem of my shirt, which came to just above my navel. I let my jacket fall to the floor as he played with the fabric, tracing his fingertips over the exposed skin beneath. It sent chills up my spine. His touch was a drug, sending sparks through my body that made it ache for more contact.

He looked down at me, eyes dark with want. “Take it off,” he gasped. “I want to see you. All of you.”

His meaning was clear. This was up to me. Every step of this night would be up to me.

I slipped a hand under my shirt, then pulled it over my head. I didn’t really know how to do this. The last time anyone had tried to get under my shirt was Alan Lee at a Phi Chi party at NYU...two years ago. And before that...well, we weren’t going to talk about how long that dry spell had lasted.

When I finally found the courage to look up, Xavier was watching me, still as a statue. Looming, large, and looking like he couldn’t breathe.

I’d never felt more sexy. More desirable. More unlike myself.

It’s not like I was wearing anything special. A simple black cotton bra, an equally simple pair of black panties. My breasts had always been on the small side, but he seemed utterly entranced by them as he covered them both with his broad palms, then passed his thumbs over my nipples, causing them to stand up against the fabric.

“Fuck,” Xavier murmured. “You are so bloody beautiful. Do you know that?”

“Do I know...” I started, then gave up bothering to finish my sentence. I was too busy feeling...whatever this was. I’d never had a man touch me like this before, so reverently, as though he was worshipping me. And I liked it. A lot.

I’d always thought I’d have to wait until I met “the one” to experience the kind of passion I’d seen in movies or read about in books.

But it was here. Right now. With Xavier.

I tipped my head up to kiss him again, and our mouths crashed together as our hands reached between us to wrestle with belts, buttons, and zippers. A moment later, I was turned around and placed gently on the bed, my pants peeled down my legs before I was left to watch Xavier undress down to a pair of tight black boxer briefs.

He was...perfect. The tattoo on his arm extended much further than I’d imagined, wrapping around his left shoulder and dancing down a chest and waist that seemed to be carved from stone.

He paused for a moment, and I thought he was stopping. Stopping to take me home. Or to tell me this was all a joke.

But then he replied with a growl of pure desire as he knelt between my legs and tugged off my underwear.

“I need to taste you again,” he said between kisses pressed to my inner thighs.

I gasped when his mouth landed on my clit.

Those large hands moved up and down my body while he licked and sucked. Caressing each curve, finding every dip and valley like he was mapping the terrain by touch. I moaned, unable to keep my own hands from threading through that thick black hair, urging him deeper.

One hand dipped between my legs, teasing my entrance until a finger slipped inside, stroking a rhythm that made me gasp. Another finger joined it. I hissed. Then another.

“Go on,” he murmured, his voice a deep burr against my most sensitive parts. “Go on, you beautiful thing, you. Come again for me.”

I screamed out Xavier’s name as the pleasure coursed through me, feeling like I was weightless as he continued those sinful movements with fingers and tongue alike.

When eventually I was limp—limp, yes, but still somehow quavering with anticipation, he at last kissed his way up my body we were face to face he was seated between my legs.

“Are you sure?” he asked, eyes so deep and fathomless I thought I might jump into them.

My core was aching with want. I could barely think but was somehow able to reach down between us, push his briefs from those perfectly chiseled hips, and take his cock in my hand.

Xavier’s eyes squeezed shut as he hissed.

“Yes,” I said. “Please.”

I was rewarded with one slow, impossibly tender kiss.

“All right?” he murmured against my lips.

He pushed off me, then returned a moment later with a foil packet in his hand. I couldn’t help but watch as he unrolled a condom onto his sizeable length. I knew it would work...but how?

“Don’t worry,” he said as he settled back between my thighs. “I made sure you’re ready. But we’ll take this slow. I can stop any time.”

I pulled him down for another kiss, enjoying the feel of the tip of him playing between my thighs.

“Don’t stop,” I told him. “Please don’t stop.”

He grabbed one of my thighs, then pushed in, just a bit. I gasped. So did he.

“Fuck, Ces. You will be the fucking death of me tonight.”

I rocked my hips upward, urging him deeper. He was more disciplined than me, taking it slowly, slowly, waiting for my cues. I felt like I was about to melt from want. I’d never felt anything like this. Never wanted anything like this before. It felt so good, so impossibly good.

Until it didn’t.

Oh fuck, that hurt.

I must have made a sound or stiffened or something, because Xavier immediately stopped, and pushed himself up on his forearms to look down at me with clear concern.

“Fuck. Fuck. Did I hurt you?”

His kisses were swift, but I held him fast to me when he tried to pull away.

“No,” I said. “I mean—yes—but it’s all right. It’s supposed to hurt a little. Isn’t it?”

It wasn’t so bad. He was very big. I just needed a moment.

He examined me for a moment but didn’t move. Just waited, ever patient as I acclimated to his size. To the pain, which gradually melted into something...else.

“I’m okay,” I told him at last. “I’m okay. I just...”

Xavier’s lips moved against mine. He still didn’t move. “Was it too much?”

I shook my head. “No. Yes. A little.”

“I can stop.” He looked like it might kill him. I sort of loved him for it.

Love. What?

I just gripped his shoulders, willing him to stay. “No, don’t. I want this. Keep—keep going.”

I could feel him shaking with restraint. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “Just—just go slow.”

There was a bit more pain as he started to move. Just a bit. Just rocked in, pressing deeply into those spaces no one else had been. But then his lips found mine again, and there was something about that kiss that made me relax. One of his hands found its way back between us, finding my clit with a soft, insistent massage that made pleasure bloom there all over again.

My eyes flew open as he moved again. I wasn’t prepared for that. I wasn’t prepared for how good it felt.

“You’re—ah!—Xavi, you’re so deep.”

Xavier paused. “Too much?” he asked again.

“No!” I told him, then pulled him down for another kiss. “No. It’s just...it’s good. It’s too good.”

I didn’t know how else to describe it. I’d always assumed that sex would be...nice, at least. It was the thing to do, so I assumed it would be good in the general sense of the word. But this...

This was so much more than just good.

I lifted my hips, urging him deeper. This time, when he kissed me, I could feel the heat of his breath on my lips. “Ces,” he whispered. “God, Ces.”

My fingers dug into the powerful muscles of his back as I finally felt him all the way inside of me. I could feel his heart beating through his chest.

I had met this man only hours ago. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. I was supposed to fall in love with a friend, probably. Someone I would trust for weeks, months, maybe years before I gave him all of myself. Not with a stranger in one night who was treating me like a queen.

A stranger. I sighed, my eyes stinging with tears.

“Don’t,” Xavier said, his voice rough with fear. “Please. Don’t cry.”

I shook my head. “I’m not.” But I was. I was crying. One of the most beautiful things to happen in my entire life, and I was...crying.

“Please, Ces,” Xavier begged. “Please. I can’t—I fucking bear it. I don't want to hurt you.”

I moved my hips, feeling him move deep inside of me. I wanted to tell him how much I cared. I wanted to.

"You're not," I say, urging him to go on. "It's just...it's so much."

In one deep, slow stroke, he hit a spot that made my back arch. I heard a whimper escape my own lips, and before I could stop him, he had levered himself up and down again.

“Again,” I said. “Xavier, again.”

And he was happy to obey.

My mouth opened, a wordless cry escaping my lips, my hips moving with the rhythm of Xavier’s as he thrust inside of me. And just like that, we were moving together. There was no pain; there was only pleasure now.

There was only Xavier.

His lips landed on mine, and I kissed him, clinging to him, letting him feel every ounce of how much I loved him.

“Ces,” he whispered.

“Xavi?” It came out like a question.

“How do you feel?” he asked. “I want you to feel so good. I want you to feel amazing. Tell me how I can make you feel that way.”

I whimpered, my head thrashing against the pillows. I was so, so close. “H-hurry,” I told him. “Just—please. I need it. Xavier, I need it.”

He must have heard the desperation in my voice because he began to move faster. He was relentless, and I was so close, and...

And I was there.

My orgasm hit me like a bomb. I cried out, clutching his arms as my thighs went tight around him, making Xavier groan with renewed desire.

I could feel him moving inside of me as my body spasmed. I could feel him, moving closer, closer, closer?—

“Ces,” he moaned. “You’re mine. Say it.”

His eyes searched mine, so dark, so needy, daring me to argue.

“I’m yours,” I said. “I’m yours.”

His pace turned frantic. Xavier’s hands were everywhere—in my hair, on my breasts, on my hips, holding me steady as he pumped. My nipples were tight little buds, the pleasure gathering between my thighs, his cock sliding in and out of me, in and out, in and out?—

“Oh God, Xavier, please?—”

I came, my body shattering in his arms, and he kissed me all the way through it.

“I’m so close,” he moaned, his lips moving furiously against mine. “I’m so close, I’m—” His arms shaking with the effort of staying in place above me, his cock buried deep inside of me. “Ces?”

“Please,” I whimpered at him. “Please.”

Xavier thrust into me one time, groaning into my ear. He came with a roar, his cock pulsing deep inside of me.

I wrapped my arms around him, wanting him closer. Wanting this moment to last forever. I felt Xavier’s heart beating against my chest, the whisper of his breath against my neck.

“Ces,” he whispered again and again. “What—what just happened?”

A shiver ran up and down the length of my body, but neither of us made a move away. Neither of us could.

“I don’t know,” I murmured as I stroked his hair. “But it was good. Wasn’t it?”

He turned his face into my neck and kissed me there with impossible softness.

“It was a gift,” he told me even as my eyelids started to flutter closed of their own accord. “Thank you for that. I’ll be grateful for it the rest of my life.”