Chapter 24 - Victoria

Victoria

“ W e should talk now,” Xavier said, sounding a little chagrined.

He stood shirtless in my kitchen, wearing only his boxer briefs. I currently wore his shirt, and his jeans lay rolled up in a ball on the floor. Round two was much more naked than round one.

He looked thoroughly fucked in the best way as he grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge.

“Okay.” I looked up at him when he handed me the water. “Let’s talk.”

For some odd reason Bennet’s voice scolding me about limits flooded my head. Not quite what I wanted knocking around in my brain after what I’d just experienced.

But, yeah. Limits.

“Um.” Xavier ran a hand through his hair, rubbing it back and forth. “I wanted to do this before we, uh, well, before.”

I smiled. “Are you nervous, Maddox? ”

“Nooo,” he over-enunciated the word as he sat down. “I want to do this right. And I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings or confusion.”

“I’m listening,” I said, sipping the water.

“The dinner you went to the other night,” he started. “I wanted—“

“You were vetting me,” I interrupted. “Or Bennet was on your behalf.”

His mouth dropped open in surprise. “Well, sort of.” He tilted his head. “Did it upset you?”

“Not really,” I shrugged. “I didn’t enjoy it but I figured you had your reasons. The biggest one being the way I left you and what I said.”

Maybe it was better we had all the sex before this conversation. I felt notably relaxed and zen with a clear head.

“Do you want to take the lead on this?” An eyebrow went up.

“No. Sorry. I’m listening.”

“Mmhmm. Listen quietly, love, unless I ask a direct question.” His gentle command sounded so damn sexy wrapped in his English accent.

I only grinned in response.

He remained quiet for a long minute, looking down at his hands. It took an abundance of restraint for me not to reach out and touch him.

“Do you use rough sex as a way to punish yourself for how you feel about what happened to your sister?”

I froze. He stared at me with those sharp sapphire eyes, piercing through all the flimsy layers I use to protect myself.

“No.” My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. “No,” I answered in a firmer tone. “Why would you ask me that?”

“I have to be sure you aren’t using it as a way to cope with something.” His jaw flexed. “I’ve been in situations like that before and it doesn’t end well. For both people involved. When did you know you liked it this way?”

“Charlotte was still alive, if that’s what you’re getting at. My curiosities started in high school. I’d heard stories about some of the seniors and the stuff they’d do at parties. Paddles, rope, handcuffs. I was a teenager. Everything sounds adventurous when you’re young.”

“Curiosity is one thing,” he said in a low, tight voice. “When did you know ?”

I inhaled a deep breath. “College. I dated this older guy freshman year. We’d play around with blindfolds and nipple clamps and stuff like that. One night, I let him tie my wrists together. I was on my knees bent forward with my ass in the air. He started running a feather tickler all over me until I thought I would explode. I was so turned on. And then he—”

Xavier’s expression stopped me cold. Jealousy and lust commandeered his face.

“He what?”

“Well, he, uh, he started fucking me hard without warning and,” I paused, consumed by the fierce, possessive energy radiating in my direction.

“Tell me.”

“I liked it. A lot. I orgasmed and told him to do it again.”

That last bit garnered a smile. I lifted my hand to stop him before he could ask me anything else.

“I like it rough, Xavier. I like it dirty and hot and very unladylike…and it has nothing to do with any deep emotional scarring. It gets me off. I know what I like. I know what I want. I’m not submissive…”

Another smile.

“…I’m not letting someone do these things to me because I’m punishing myself. I like it because it makes me feel strong. I’m choosing to play rough. I’m choosing to be used this way. The only thing I’ve ever denied myself is falling in love because I believed I didn’t deserve it.”

“Do you still believe you don’t deserve it?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

“Do you think you don’t deserve me?”

I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t admit I’d thought those very words to myself over and over. I couldn’t tell him I pushed him away because I believed I didn’t deserve him or his affection. And now we’re here again. Back to the thing I wasn’t ready to think about or say.

“Xavier I’m…even if I do think that it doesn’t change how I feel about you. How I feel when I’m with you.”

Silence hung in the air for a few seconds before he continued, “Is what happened with your sister the reason you pushed me away?”

“Not that singular act, no. I was afraid if I let you in, let you get close to me, you…not just you, anyone really, would blame me for it.”

His eyes widened. “Blame you for what?”

I didn’t like the way my lower lip trembled. I also didn’t like the way my eyes burned or the metallic taste in my mouth or how my throat squeezed itself. I did not want to cry in front of him. I’m not ready for this. Not yet. Not when I have the diary and so many confusing, unanswered questions.

A single tear fell down my cheek. I swallowed hard and looked him in the eye. “Red.”

The questions stopped and I was engulfed in a hug. I clung to him like he was my only life source.

Having him comfort me felt incredible. Letting him comfort me broke through parts I thought I’d closed off for good.

“Did I use the color thing wrong?”

This is what I’m worried about? Pull it together.

Xavier kissed my forehead. I rested my hand on his chest so I could feel his heartbeat. It was strong and reassuring.

“It’s okay, love. It worked didn’t it?”

He held me tighter. Our bodies pressed together. I straddled him, wrapping my arms around him and trying to get as physically close as possible. He threaded his fingers through my hair, gently massaging my scalp. I don’t know how long we stayed like this. I only know I never wanted it to end.

“Can I ask you something?” The sound of his voice startled me .

I leaned back. “Sure.”

“What was your sister like?” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “Were you two similar in many ways?”

Before I read through her diary, this answer was simple. Now? I sighed.

“Yes and no, if that makes sense.” I chewed on my lip. “She was older than me by three minutes and really enjoyed bossing me around. Or trying to.”

“Ah,” he grinned. “Glad it’s not just me who fails miserably with it.”

“Shut up.”

“Nope. I got you to smile. I think I’m going to continue.” He squeezed my waist. “So, she’s bossy.”

“Not your kind of bossy.” I thought for a minute. “We both shared a love for all things pop music. When we discovered the Spice Girls it was like a religious experience. We’d put on concerts in her bedroom. I was Ginger Spice, she was Baby Spice and,” I laughed, “Killian was Posh Spice on occasion.”

“I bet he has a great pout and looks smashing in little black dresses.”

“He does,” I giggled. “How did you know?”

“Intuition,” he smirked. “Continue, please.”

“Um, we had different interests at school. Well, that’s not entirely true. We both joined the debate team. I loved speaking in front of people, thinking on my feet, and really learning to appreciate two sides of an argument. So did Charlotte. She was actually the captain. She also wrote for the school newspaper and helped plan the fundraisers our class held with the parish. We went to a Catholic school, in case I didn’t mention it. Um, I was homecoming queen. She was class president.”

The unrelenting emptiness I’ve felt since the day she died tugged at me.

“She was my best friend. We shared everything. We dressed alike until we were ten. When I made the executive decision to only wear clothes that were purple, she bailed. ”

“That’s bold.”

I poked him. “No comments from the peanut gallery.”

“Sorry.” A soft kiss landed on my nose. “Go on.”

“Charlotte would always tell me how lucky I was to be so naturally outgoing. She was much more reserved than me but just as friendly. I think she had some social anxieties but back then nobody really talked about it like now. She saw a few doctors and seemed to be doing okay.”

Part of me wanted to tell him everything. The diary, the party, the bonfire. Every detail of what happened those summers in England and how all our lives changed one random spring morning. I wanted to unburden myself. I wanted to let him in.

Instead, I shrugged. “We were alike but different.”

He smiled. “She sounds like a lovely person. I think I would have liked her.”

A tremor streaked through my body. Maybe he never crossed paths with her that summer. Maybe it wasn’t him she saw get attacked at the party.

On an impulse, I traced my finger along his scar. He flinched, snapping his head away.

“Sorry,” I said, pulling my hand back.

He grabbed my hand and kissed it. “Don’t be sorry. I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Does it bother you when I touch it?”

Something flashed behind his eyes. “Probably as much as it bothered you when I asked about your sister.” He pressed his finger to my mouth when I started to speak. “But I like your gentleness. I like how it feels when you touch it, even though I don’t respond particularly well to it.”

Every nerve ending, every fiber of my existence yearned to get the answers I craved.

“You really don’t know why those kids jumped you?”

A sullen expression washed over him and then he scowled. Whatever memories he held still warred within him. His fingers pressed into my hips. “Something happened with...there was this,” he squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced. “Red.”

My heart dropped. “Xavier, I’m sorry.” I held him tight. “I’m sorry.”

The strength of his embrace revealed so much more than anything he could say. These might not be the types of limits Bennet had in mind when he mentioned them the other night, but they were our limits. These were the things only time and patience would allow.

I leaned back when his grip on me loosened. My fingers skimmed along his neck, down to his collarbone. I scooted back in his lap, leaned forward and kissed his chest.

“How was it playing again last weekend?” I asked, caressing him.

“Fucking brilliant,” he exclaimed, his eyes alight with excitement. “I love it. Being in goal. Competing with my teammates. Hearing the fans. It’s bloody amazing.”

“You sound like the guys on the Legends,” I smiled. “Have you always been this passionate about soccer?”

“Football,” he corrected. “And yes, I have. I focus most of my time on training. Really pushing myself to be a great player. Cade, too. When we were younger he’d have to pull me off the pitch on weekends to go hang out or see a movie or whatever. I just wanted to excel.”

“You wanted to be the best. A crowd pleaser. Attention grabber.”

“Always,” he conceded. “I wanted to be noticed.”

I chuckled. “I think you’ve been noticed.”

“Oh yeah?” He pulled me closer. “By you?”

“Maybe,” I answered, stroking his shoulders.

“Hmm,” he hummed. “Does that mean you’re willing to break your policy for me again?”

“Pretty sure I broke it on the kitchen counter about two hours ago. And then twice on this couch.”

His throaty laugh filled the room. “Yeah, I’d have to agree with you there, love. ”

Xavier’s mouth fused to mine, his tongue pushing past my lips. I pressed my hand to his face, tilting it to the side so I could control the kiss and take him how I wanted. He let me but only for a few seconds. The raw, deep groan vibrating in his chest signaled he’d be the one in control soon.

“Victoria.” He speared his fingers through my hair, grabbing and pulling it so I’d look at him. The sapphire in his irises burned bright, almost celestial. “I have to go back to the hotel soon.”

I pouted. “Curfew?”

“Yeah. With the long flight and the time difference, we’re under orders to be back in the rooms by ten since we have training tomorrow morning.”

“You’ll be at the stadium?”

He nodded. “We’re using the practice field.”

“What time?”

I was subjected to a rather intense, lascivious stare. “Do you want to watch?”

Goosebumps crawled up my arms. “Maybe. Will you be wearing your goalkeeper outfit?”

“Goalkeeper outfit,” he mimicked. “I’ll be wearing my training kit. Will that turn you on enough?”

“Smart ass.” I kissed him quick. “And again, maybe .”

A sinful smile pulled at his mouth. “I can see why Bennet wanted to drape you over his knee so much the other night.”

I blanched. “He told you?”

“Mmm.” The light touch of his hand on my backside sent a shock of pleasure through me. “He did. He finds you to be quite feisty. However, he’s not allowed to touch you in that way. But I can always give him a demonstration. With your permission, of course.”

“A demonstration?” I don’t know what excited me more. The thought of being bent over Xavier’s lap or the thought of being watched.

“Naughty girl. We’ll talk about this another time.” He squeezed my ass. “Up you go.”

Reluctantly, I climbed off him. He put his jeans on and prowled over to me. “As sexy as you are in my shirt, I do need it back.”

“But I’m not wearing anything underneath.” I toyed with the hem and started lifting it.

“Even better.”

“You’ll never leave if I strip naked in front of you. And I refuse to be the reason you miss curfew.” With those words, I trotted down to my bedroom, took the shirt off and slipped into my robe. When I walked back into the living room, Xavier was standing by the window. I kept waiting to wake up and realize this had all been a dream.

“Here you go,” I said, holding out his shirt. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his lean figure as he moved with sleek fluidity through the room toward me. Once he was fully clothed, we walked to the door.

My back hit the wall without any warning. I gasped. He’s unrelenting. Every cell in my body reached for him when he pressed himself against me.

“I’m going to think about you all night, dirty princess. How much I liked reddening your ass with my hand. How wet it made you. How beautiful you sounded coming on my fingers and my cock.”

My head fell back against the wall with a distinct thud. Forget death by a thousand paper cuts. This was death by filthy words, inflections, and tone. All delivered in an elegant British accent and packaged in the most stunning man alive.

He flicked his tongue on my mouth. “Did I give you enough to reflect on?”

“Maybe.”

“Greedy girl.” He grinned and then bit down on my bottom lip. Hard. Almost as hard as the night in the taxi. I dug my nails into his lower back and scratched along his skin, drawing a low moan out of him. The silkiness of his tongue soothed my lip before he kissed me, reminding me who I belonged to with every deep lick into my mouth .

The change in the atmosphere was tangible when he broke our kiss and pulled away. It’s almost as though part of me peeled off and attached to him. I wanted to tell him to screw the curfew and stay with me all night. I wanted him near me. Always.

He opened the door and smiled at me.

“Sweet dreams, love.”

It closed behind him with a gentle click.