Chapter Thirteen

Brooke

The wedding reception is in full swing, and I’ve never danced so much in my life. Bonnie arrived just as the wedding ceremony started and sat beside me. And now she’s swapped tables at the reception rather than staying at her original table with Jordan, Sabrina and Ethan.

We enjoy bubbly drinks, dance, and people-watch. She comments on the guests, particularly the eye candies—the groomsmen, most of whom have now lost their bow ties and are sporting a few of their shirt buttons undone, giving tantalizing peeks of muscled chests and tattoos.

Xavier is still fully dressed and noticeably tense, having gone out to smoke a couple more times but apart from that, he is as attentive as ever. We’ve shared a few dances and each time it was a full-body experience to be so close to him. By the end of the fourth dance, I was panting with the need for more.

Giovanni gives a rousing best man’s speech, to which Alex responds, saying it must have been the most difficult speech he’s ever done because it was in English and because he wasn’t allowed to swear. Everyone laughs.

He doesn’t even have an accent. Why do people keep calling him ‘Italian guy’ as if he speaks no English ? Perhaps there’s something else to his being Italian that defines him. Something to do with those scary men Zoey might as well have called his pets. Okay. I calm my overactive imagination. I may have read one too many of Mario Puzo’s books.

Xavier and Zoey are on the dance floor now, and Dan is spinning a giggling Lisa.

Bonnie’s just gone off dancing with Max. She’s more appropriately dressed today but no less sexy. She is in a silk plum-colored mini dress with a collar and long sleeves. But that’s where the decency stops. It has a deep, narrow plunging neckline extending all the way to her winking purple belly button piercing, and the skirt is ruched to emphasize her curves.

I’m enjoying my third flute of bubbly champagne when Vanessa approaches and sits on Xavier’s empty chair beside me.

She looks stunning with her shoulder-length black hair and hot pink strapless jumpsuit with a sash tied into a large bow.

“Hello, Brooke, we’ve not had a chance to catch up since”—she clears her throat—“yesterday. Any friend of Bennett’s is a friend of mine.”

I hate that she calls him Bennett. “Why do you call him that?” I ask, feigning indifference.

“Because he loves it,” she retorts. “We go way back, you see. Bennett, Wyatt, Ryan…” She pauses. “Even Taylor. We’ve been friends for years.”

“Who’s Taylor?” I’m certain she was baiting me with that pause, but I can’t resist biting .

“Oh, Bennett hasn’t told you about her? Shit. I shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe you should ask him. But then again, if it’s as you say and he’s only ‘seeing’ to you, he’s not obliged to tell you anything deep and meaningful, is he?”

I look back at Xavier, who is now dancing with Lisa while Zoey is in Dan’s arms, as the barb sinks in.

As if on cue, Xavier looks over at us, a worried frown on his face. “Are you alright?” he mouths. I nod and smile woodenly.

“This little thing you two have going on,” she says, “he can’t possibly be that into you.”

“I think you’re wrong,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t sound as shaky as I feel.

“You seem like a nice girl, Brooke. That is why I’m going to tell you this. Xavier cannot give you what you’re looking for.”

“Which is?”

“Himself,” she says matter-of-factly. “A relationship. Love. I see the way you look at him. Not that I blame you; it’s impossible not to love Bennett.”

“He’s not capable of all that.” Vanessa continues, scenting blood in the water. “At least not with anyone who’s not Taylor. I see a lot of girls get their hopes up only to get crushed.”

“Like you did?” I reply. Maybe your “Bennett” can’t but the Xavier I know can give himself to me. I’ve felt it. My stupid, hopeful heart stubbornly insists.

Vanessa lets out a loud sigh. “Brooke, Xavier will never love again and it has nothing to do with you. You’ll be lucky if you last more than a few weeks. Better to leave now while you still have some dignity, before you become completely broken over a man that cannot return your feelings.” She pats my hand and leaves .

Ryan comes to get me to dance and then it’s Lee, then Wyatt, then Max, or was it James? The rest of the reception has become a blur because every single beat is an echo in my head.

Taylor.

Taylor.

Taylor.

When the dancing stops in time for Nora to throw the bouquet, I’m nauseous and lightheaded and just about had enough. I tell Zoey I need the ladies’ and leave the venue.

By the time I reach the luxurious bathroom, which is thankfully empty, the wave of nausea has passed. I look at my reflection. I could use some lip gloss. Taking the fruity lip gloss from my purse, I hold it to my mouth but my hand is trembling too badly to complete the task.

I’m in love with Xavier. I now know that for certain. I just didn’t want to face it. And the moment I’m ready to stop denying what I know in my heart to be true, I hear he’s in love with someone else. Could my luck get any worse?

I drop my hand and take big gulps of air. I splash some water on my face and pat it dry. I’ll be just fine , I tell myself. I just need to go back out there and act as if the bottom hasn’t fallen out of my world.

I finally leave the bathroom, but instead of heading to the reception, I turn toward my room. I’m feeling too raw. I need more time to get myself together before I can face Xavier. I’m on the bed staring up at the ceiling when someone knocks on my door.

I go to open it, thinking it’s Bonnie.

Xavier fills the doorway. Okay, calm down, you’ve got this . “You left all of a sudden,” he says, worry knitting his brow .

“I just needed to lie down for a bit.” I leave the door open for him and turn back toward the bed.

“Baby, are you alright?” He stops me, takes me in his arms, and kisses the top of my head. My frayed heart can’t take his tenderness.

“Um, I’ll be fine, but maybe don’t call me that.”

“What? ‘Baby’? Brooke, talk to me, what’s going on? Did Vanessa say something to you?”

“Who is Taylor?” I blurt.

Xavier rears back in shock. He turns and slowly walks toward the window, hands in his pockets. My God, it’s true. Taylor does exist . There’s an awful twisting in my belly.

“Are you in love with her?” My voice breaks.

“Is that what Vanessa told you?” His back is still turned. And I have my answer in his hesitation and his avoidance of the question. All the hope I had shrivels.

I say weakly, “What am I doing here if there’s another woman—”

“Taylor is dead, Brooke. Vanessa knows this. She died almost six years ago.” His voice is deathly still. “And yes, I loved her. She was my fiancée. But I’m not in love with her. Not anymore.”

“Not for a long time.” Xavier mutters the last part under his breath.

I’m beyond shocked to hear this. Xavier lost his fiancée? My heart bleeds for how horrible it must have been for him. There is another part of me, though, the darker part apparently, that is relieved that this Taylor woman is no longer involved with the man I love.

I go to him and slip my arms around his waist. “I’m so very sorry, Xavier, I had no idea.” I feel the tension in his muscles and his posture, which remains rigid.

“It’s alright, Brooke, it’s in the past.” He turns and pins me with an intense look. “What I do want to know is why the idea of another woman upset you so much.”

I take a calming breath. “I don’t know. I guess I just don’t want to be someone you’re playing with.”

He looks at me as if I’ve sprouted horns, so I explain. “Like this whole weekend, you’ve been so wonderful, and I don’t know how much of this is real.” There, I’ve said it.

“I could say the same thing about you, Brooke.” Xavier reaches out a hand and tucks my hair behind my ear. “I’ve seen sides to you I’ve never seen before.” His hand lingers on my face.

“Exactly, so it’s confusing—this thing between us.” I look away from his eyes because it feels like they’re boring into my soul.

“Let me simplify it then. Do you want it to be real?”

My heart starts to pound. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” His thumb is under my chin, lifting my face so he can look deeply into my eyes. The rest of his fingers are wrapped around my neck in a gentle, possessive hold. “Do you want to be with me, Brooke?”

Oh God. I want to run, to say no, to deny what my heart desperately wants, but I manage a shy nod.

“Say it,” he commands, “out loud.”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Good girl. Done.” He takes his hands off me and yanks off his bow tie. “Anything else you want?”

“Wait, just like that?”

“Yes, baby, it’s that simple. I’m all yours, Brooke. What else do you want?” He begins unbuttoning his shirt. I feel a sensual fog weaving around me and sucking me into its depths. I wanted a few things but right now all I want is Xavier, all over me, in me. Still, I make a last-ditch effort to avoid the inevitable.

“Don’t we have to get back to the party?” I ask breathlessly.

He slowly shakes his head, shrugging off his suspenders.

“What do you want, Brooke?” He takes off his shirt, and my mouth goes dry.

“You,” I say finally, unable to fight what I feel anymore.

“I should hope so.” He chuckles. “What do you want me to do?”

I’m hyperventilating now. “T-touch me.”

“As you wish. Take off all your clothes. Leave the shoes on.”

I obey.

Like a predator, Xavier watches my every move as I shimmy off my dress, bra, and panties. I stand in front of him naked, shaking with want, waiting for his next order. I could never have guessed being ordered around in the bedroom would turn me on this much.

“Get on the bed and spread your legs.” His voice is gravelly.

“Jesus, Xavier.” I moan, so aroused I’m dripping. My back feels so sensitive on the silk sheets that my spine arches on contact. I bend my knees but he grabs both my ankles and pulls me to the edge, then holds my knees apart and stares at my wet pussy, licking his lips.

“You’re gorgeous,” he says and starts to trail open-mouthed kisses from my knees right up to the juncture of my thighs. I’ve never had anyone go down on me before but it doesn’t even occur to me to protest. I’m beyond shame now; I only know I want Xavier’s mouth where I ache most. I feel his hot breath on my core right before he tongues me in one slow lick from the base, ending at my throbbing clit. I grab the sheets and moan. He repeats the motion until I’m arching off the bed, seeking his mouth.

“Xavier please.” I sob, mindless with pleasure.

“Shh, I’ve got you, baby.” He puts a hand on my quivering belly to hold me down, slides two fingers inside my slick pussy then sucks on my clit. I get loud, moaning and gasping his name, my head thrashing on the bed. How have I never done this before? When he takes my hard nipple and pinches while curving up his fingers inside me, I come so hard I see stars. I’m still coming when he shoves down his slacks and briefs and thrusts into me. I gasp with the pleasure of convulsing around his hard thick cock. He starts a brutally fast rhythm that seems to keep my orgasm going and I lose sense of when one ends and when the other begins. The only thing I know by the time he finally shudders, groaning my name and spilling into me, is that my throat is hoarse and I’m trembling all over.

“You’re mine, Brooke,” Xavier pants, or I think that’s what he says. I’m so sated and boneless, I drift off to sleep immediately.