Chapter Three

Xavier

I wake up alone and naked, her smell lingering in my nostrils. I glance at the Rolex on my wrist and see it’s not even 4 a.m. Two things irritate me.

First, I’ve always been a light sleeper, much to Zoey, my twin sister’s frustration. She would always complain that a pin drop was sufficient to wake me up. So how I managed to sleep through it while a woman who was wrapped around me disentangled herself is beyond me. Secondly, where’s the fucking fire, Brooke? Why did she rush off?

The ball of irritation tightens in my belly. I stand and pull on my slacks, heading over to the mini bar on the far side of the room. I pour myself a brandy, enjoying the burn while my mind goes back to the events of last night.

I’d been in the VIP lounge with my buddy Ryan, discussing an acquisition he was planning when I suddenly began to feel restless. So rather than signal for our next round of drinks, I offered to go down to the bar to get them .

I saw her on the dance floor as I made my way down the stairs. I didn’t think I’d seen her at the club before.

Perhaps one of Zedd’s fans, I thought.

My eyes followed the thick blonde hair that fell in loose waves down her back, ending inches above an impossibly narrow waist.

I abruptly tore my gaze from the flare of her abundant hips and headed to the bar.

No sooner had I reached the bar than I was already turning to find her across the room again. From a different angle this time, I saw her face. She was smiling and dancing with another woman, petite with blonde hair. Friends? I wondered. She was suddenly the most interesting thing I’d seen all day.

Joe, my bartender, returned with our drinks and I asked him to send Ryan’s up to him while I continued to study the woman’s every move. She was sensual in an earthy, unpracticed way. Her black dress clung to her curves in a way that made my palms itch to trace them. When she threw back her head and laughed, arousal shot through my veins like a drug.

And then she turned and looked directly at me as if she knew, had felt me watching. She’d looked away at first, but not before I caught the interest in her eyes. And she kept looking back as though she could not help herself. I know the feeling, baby, I thought, as I threw back the rest of my drink and made a beeline for her. I felt like I would die if I didn’t speak to her. If I didn’t touch her.

When I reached her, we started to talk and dance, and it flowed easily. Still, the inexorable pull of attraction between us wound tighter with every moment until I finally snapped and put my hands on her. It was like pouring gasoline over flames .

We ended up in this room and eventually made it to the couch after fucking once against the door and again on the floor. I’d been overcome with an insane need to possess her. I wanted to come in her, on her… to stake my claim all over her.

Watching her come apart in my arms was the single most satisfying thing I’d ever experienced, and I hadn’t planned on stopping until morning.

And now she’s gone.

My knuckles tighten over the glass, and I realize I’m angry. And disgusted that I am when I should be ecstatic. She did me a favor, saving me the awkwardness of having to kick her out this morning. Especially before she got to know who I am. I throw back the rest of my drink, grab my sweater, and head home.