Chapter 22

TWENTY-TWO

“ W hat are you doing?” I yelped just after the door closed. “Let me go!”

“Frankie?” We could hear Adam’s voice calling through the door, but neither of us replied.

Xavier’s hand was still locked around my wrist. To my surprise, he obeyed my command, though he certainly looked like he didn’t want to.

“What the hell, Xavi? You had no right to drag me inside like an overbearing caveman.” I shucked my scarf and gloves, practically throwing them into the basket at the base of the coat rack. None of them made it, but I couldn’t even bother to retrieve them.

“No right—no right ?” he demanded. “He was all fucking over you!”

“So what if he was? I was on a date for crying out loud! That you encouraged me to go on, I might add. That’s what happens. People make their moves, right? Just like your text said.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Ces,” Xavier snapped, storming down the hallway toward the kitchen, me hot on his tail. “This is the type you go for? The kind that won’t take no for an answer? He deserved a fuck lot more than a door slammed in his face. Like my fists, for a start.” He shoved both hands into his hair, tugged, and groaned. “Christ, I could hear the bastard on the other side of the door, just like I could hear you telling him to get the fuck off!”

I recoiled. “You were listening in on us? What else were you doing, spying through the peephole?”

“ Yes !” he hissed, whirling around so fast I was forced to take a step backward, essentially caging myself in one corner of the kitchen. “Is that what you want to hear? That I’ve been sitting on this fucking couch for the last three hours, playing it cool and driving myself crazy? Thinking of you out with some four-eyed twat, smiling at his pat compliments, laughing at his jokes, twirling your hair, and making doe-eyes at him while he’s thinking of all the ways he wants to reenact his favorite pornos. Yeah, he’s really hot for teacher, right?”

My jaw dropped, and before I could stop it, it started to quiver. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“You can believe it and a whole lot more. This isn’t you. I know it’s not you. I knew it the second you left. You’re not meant to be dressed up in some fancy clothes for some arsehole, painted and primped so he can untie you like a fucking package.”

“Oh my God, you made me dress like this.” I poked a finger into his chest with every word.

“Well, I had to get something out of this fucking night, didn’t I?”

“That makes zero sense.”

He leaned down so our noses were practically touching while he spoke through his teeth. “I. Know .”

The quiver of my lip turned into a sob. With sudden force, I shoved him away, then darted around him as quickly as I could, back down the hall and into the half bathroom, where I didn’t quite slam the door. Bracing myself on the sink, I took several deep breaths, begging myself to calm the hell down.

It didn’t matter. His words didn’t matter. Adam’s words didn’t matter. None of them mattered.

Then I looked at myself in the mirror, took in the reddened cheeks, the mussed hair, the smudged mascara. And promptly burst into tears.

Rationally, I understood that Xavier couldn’t have known the way his words zeroed in like sniper bullets on the very things I’d been thinking all evening. That no one, including Adam, was really interested in me. That to him or anyone else, I was nothing more than a mousy little teacher, good for a quick piece of ass and nothing else. That I was a fake in my makeup and finery and whatever else I did to put lipstick on a pig.

I sobbed hard and silent, watching the remnants of my makeup melting down my face. I hated all of it. I wanted my hair back in its messy knot, my eyelids plain and mascara-free, my skin mottled and pink. I wanted to be back to normal. Safe, if essentially undesirable.

“Ces?”

There was a light knock on the door. But I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t stop. He was right. Adam was right. What was I thinking, dressing up like this, trying to impress a man, whether it was the one I’d gone to dinner with or the one who had waited for me at home?

Romance wasn’t for me anymore. This was a joke. I was a joke.

“Ces?”

I took a deep breath. Then another.

“Ces.” There was a note of irritation in his voice now. “Ces, open the door.”

I swallowed. “I just need a moment.”

“Ces, I swear to God. If you don’t open the door right now, I’ll break it down. Don’t do this.”

I shook my head silently. He probably would, too. If Xavier’s temper so far was any indication, patience was not his strong suit.

And so I obeyed, grasping the knob, and slowly opening up to find the tower of man standing with his hands braced on the frame, head bowed in shame.

Then he took one look at me, and the scowl returned. “I knew it.” A vicious shake of his head caused a few locks of tousled black hair to fall over his forehead. “I fucking knew it. What else did that motherfucker do? I’ll break his fucking neck, I swear I will.”

“Nothing!” I gasped, finally able to swallow back my tears. “Oh my God, calm down. He tried to kiss me, and then you stopped it, all right? Nothing else happened.”

“Then what is it?” He turned from side to side in the doorway, as if the beige walls would somehow reveal the answer. He crowded the tiny space, filling it—and my world—with his larger-than-life presence. “Why are you crying in here?”

“Because I’m—I’m—Gah!” I groaned with frustration, both with my own issues and my inability to say them out loud. “Because you’re right, okay? The both of you.”

“Right?” he asked. “About fucking what?”

“Stop swearing so much,” I hissed. “And can you let me out of the bathroom, please? All I really want is a cup of hot tea and a book and my bed.”

I shoved past him and made my way back into the kitchen, ignoring the six-foot-five wildcat on my tail.

“Right about what?” he persisted. “You can tell me while the water boils. I’m a lot more stubborn than you, Ces, so you might as well be out with it. We were right about what?”

“About the fact that this entire night was a big waste of time.” I grabbed the kettle and made for the sink. “That someone like me has no business in this kind of getup, trying to be someone I’m not.”

“Someone like you? What exactly does that mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, Xavi. You know. Someone like this.” I gestured up and down my body emphatically. I was still bound in the short skirt he’d picked, but he had to know what I meant.

His clear befuddlement, however, had drawn a deep line over his brows. “Can you stop talking in gibberish and say it in plain speech? What the fuck are you talking about?”

I sighed impatiently. He really did love to humiliate me, didn’t he?

“I’m a frumpy, bookworm teacher and single mom who’s about as sexy as a mop. Adam as much as said it at dinner, and now you just did too. Good for a lay and maybe a quick bite. A stopover while men like you wait for the real deal to come along. I’m playing dress-up, just like I did at that party. I’m a fool.”

Tears pricked once again, and I turned around quickly to avoid sharing them, focusing on putting the kettle on the stove to heat.

Behind me, Xavier was silent for once. I took that to mean I was correct. Of course I was. How could I have ever thought that someone like Adam, much less the Adonis standing behind me, would ever think I was worth more than a quick fling, whether it was after dinner or on holiday?

“Is that what you really think?” When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, incredulous. “That I don’t think you’re worth more than a quick fuck?”

I swallowed, another sob stuck in my throat. “I—well, it’s true, isn’t it? You basically dressed me like one, didn’t you? Look at me.”

“I am looking at you. Ces, turn around so you can see me too.”

As if pulled by a string, I obeyed, turning slowly until I was facing him, my back against the counter once more. I pulled at my skirt and gestured at my ruined makeup. “I’m a joke.”

Xavier stepped forward until he had caged me against the counter, looming over me, tall and imperious.

“Look at me,” he commanded, though the finger under my chin was gentle as he pulled my face upward. “Open your eyes.”

Powerless, I obeyed again, finding his deep blue pools brimming with promise and something else I couldn’t identify.

“You,” he pronounced slowly, drawing out the word like he was reciting a poem, “are the sexiest thing I have ever seen in my entire life. That was true when I met you in that club five years ago. It was true when I saw you at that Christmas party. And when I found you at your school last week. And it’s true now, when your face is covered in tears and whatever that black shit is under your eyes. Fucking gorgeous, inside and out. You’re not a one-night stand, Francesca. You are the kind of woman men wait their whole lives to find, Francesca. That’s what you are.”

My breath deserted me. My legs deserted me. My hands on the counter held me up, and then quickly, it was him. Xavier lifted me onto the Formica and stepped between my knees, crowding into me until our faces were even. Eye to eye. Nose to nose. Mouth to mouth.

“Ces,” he whispered, eyes zeroed in on my lips.

I was staring at his too. They looked soft and supple. Inviting and utterly delicious.

“Xavi,” I whispered back.

He slipped a finger under the collar of my coat, and I shivered when he found my skin and pushed the heavy fabric from my shoulders. Less from the cold and more from the sudden electricity of his touch.

“Your skin,” he murmured as he slid his hand down my neck. “So smooth. Like silk…”

I couldn’t help but close my eyes as he turned his finger over and drew it down, finding where the curve of my neck met my shoulder, slowly exploring that delicate skin no one had touched in years. His hands dropped to the hem of my sweater, and then, even more slowly, drew it over my head, leaving me in nothing but my bra. Then his fingers danced back up my arms, then made quick work behind my back so he could push the straps over my shoulders too, baring me to him.

I sat there, topless, as his hands cupped my breasts. He didn’t move, just held me, kneading ever-so-slightly as his thumbs brushed over my nipples.

While gentle, his movements weren’t tentative. I wasn’t sure that Xavier Parker had ever made a tentative move in his life. It was more than just his size, although that certainly didn’t hurt anything. Everything about him spoke of power, assurance, the knowledge that whatever he planned would happen exactly as he wanted.

And there I was, apparently part of the plan. Nearly naked in the middle of my brother’s kitchen. A world-famous chef staring at me like I was the most delicious meal he’d ever seen.

He arched over me, bending his head to brush his lips across mine. Once. Twice. Taking his time. Sipping me. Savoring me.

“Francesca.”

The sound of my full name, hypnotic though it was in his sonorous baritone, lifted me out of my trance. He leaned in, and I didn’t shy away. Instead, I leaned right back and allowed his lips to guide us in a slow, tangled kiss. Remnants of tears were still slipping down my cheeks, but the sadness was being banished by a fire warming my belly.

Before I could stop myself, my hands were undoing the buttons of his shirt. One, two, three, until his shirt lay open, revealing the smooth plane of his chest and the flat, chiseled contours of his abdomen, triangulated into a delicious path of muscle that disappeared below his belt.

His hands slid down my sides to take a full grip of my ass and pull me flush against him. He was tall enough that the counter brought me to exactly the right level. His length, so evident behind his trousers, pressed into my inner thigh. The sudden feel of him right there , separated from me by only a few scant layers of clothing, made me gasp.

“Xavi,” I whispered just before his lips found mine again, accompanied by his hot, slick tongue. He sucked on my lip, hard enough now to elicit a moan. In response, he kept going, alternatively licking, sucking, and biting until I started to squeal—right along with the tea kettle.

We broke apart, breathing heavily, but only long enough for Xavier to move the kettle off the burner, then pick me up and turn me around to sit on the opposite counter—the one that wasn’t next to a burning hot stove.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he murmured as I shifted under his hands. “Not this time. You’re not stopping this now.”

I had absolutely no intention of doing that.

His large hand pressed between my breasts, pushing me back gently. My skirt was quickly removed, followed by my tights and underwear until I lay flat and spread on the kitchen counter.

I looked up to find Xavier gazing down at me, hunger alight in his dark blue eyes. He trailed a finger up my thigh until it rested just at my center, hovering over my opening.

“You look fucking delicious,” he said.

His finger dipped inside me, then back out. He raised it to his mouth and set it delicately to the tip of his tongue, like a cat might lick its paw.

I shivered.

And then, before I could stop him, he bent and placed his mouth where his finger had been. His tongue slipped inside me, exploring, tasting, savoring every bit of my most private and deep spaces. Spaces no one had ever explored but him.

I arched against him as a breathy moan escaped my throat. His hands grabbed my thighs and lifted me higher so he could feast. He found my clit with his tongue, and soon I was thrashing on the counter, thighs clenched around his head as two fingers, then three, slipped inside me.

He sucked hard. I came even harder with a shout.

But he didn’t move, only continued claiming me with his mouth and dexterous fingers, pulling out every drop of my orgasm until I lay limply in front of him.

For a few seconds, anyway.

“I’m not done with you yet, woman.”

Vaguely, I registered his hands slipping under my back, pulling me to sit up, sliding to tip my chin up. And then a kiss—that mouth-watering, body-twisting kiss of his that brought me to a whole different planet. Oh, God, that was me on his lips, his tongue, in my mouth. That was the salty pleasure he’d drawn from me. And I liked it.

Suddenly, I was sitting up again, drawn straight like a string just plucked on a violin. My hands grasped at his naked arms, then felt their way down as if moving of their own accord. I wasn’t under the influence of anything, but I was still caught in a trance as I unbuckled his belt, flicked open his pants, and pushed his boxers down to reveal the part of him that was responsible for every change in my life over the last five years.

Lord, he was big. Of course he was big. The man was roughly the size of an NBA point guard, and all his parts were perfectly proportional. I shouldn’t have been surprised, given that I was intimately familiar with this particular part of him. Had worshipped its smooth steel shape, brought it to my lips, between my legs, felt its mastery of nearly every part of me.

Really, I should have hated him for it.

Instead, I licked my lips.

“Here.” From a pocket, Xavier produced a condom, ripped it open with his teeth, then held it out to me. “Would you?”

His eyes had softened somehow, yearning, even.

I gulped and accepted the small packet. “I—ah—it’s been a while.”

That full mouth tipped on one side into a half smile I was beginning to recognize as fondness. “I know, babe. I still want you to.”

Awkwardly, I fumbled with the packet, hurried by the throbbing want between my legs despite my nerves. Somehow, I managed to get out the bit of latex, pulled out the tip, then pressed it over the end of his cock.

“Um,” I murmured. “It’s—how do I?—”

“Let me help.”

His hands gently closed over mine, guiding the rubber over his erection, holding both our hands still over him once we were finished so he could kiss me again, this time with considerable force.

“Can I?” he murmured, poised just at my opening.

I looked down. He was so big. And I was…not. But once, he had fit there. And God, I wanted it again.

I spread my legs wider, scooted forward until I was sitting at the very edge of the counter, then took him in my hand and guided him forward. We both watched, rapt, as he slid in one slow inch at a time on a low, animal groan.

“All right?” he asked in a voice twisted with desire. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

A bead of sweat slid down the center of his forehead. He was working hard, if only at constraining himself.

“I’m fine.” I closed my eyes, allowing my body to adjust to his size. But it had been a long time. This would take a second.

“Ces.”

My eyes opened to find his blues focused on me with a heady mix of concern and desire.

“You’re going to have to give me a bit more than that,” he said.

Dazedly, I turned my face toward him. “Kiss me, Xavi.”

Slowly, his mouth turned up, farther and farther, until, at last, his bright white teeth were on display. A full, glowing smile that lit up the dim room. And it was all for me.

“With fucking pleasure.”

On another groan, our mouths collided. His lips massaged mine, tongue dancing through my mouth, devouring me whole like he was a starving man. Slowly, he started to move, seating himself completely before pulling out, allowing me a break before pressing slowly back in. It wasn’t until I grasped for his naked ass, eager to feel its rhythm, that he really started to move. Home, home, and home again, shaking our bodies, the counter, the very earth we stood on, all without breaking the magic our mouths were making.

“Xavi,” I gasped against his lips. “Oh, God. Oh God , I’m gonna?—”

He broke away suddenly, making a mad grab for my chin and yanking it up.

“Look at me,” he ordered. “Look at me when you come, Francesca. Look at me when I come for you.”

And then he slid home once more on a deep, powerful thrust. I began to shake as I gripped the counter, arching back so he could see all of me quivering there just for him. I yelped as one spasm flew through me, then another, then another, until they crashed together at my core, around him .

“Fuck! Francesca!” he crowed as he surged forward, again and again, every muscle in his big body tensed and rigid as he came.

But through it all, I did as he asked. I looked at him while he looked at me. And I could see in his eyes every decibel of want and fear reverberating deeply through my soul. I could feel through every vibration the clash of duty and vice.

And truly, nothing had ever felt better.