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Ours to Love

Page 11

   



“I-It doesn’t matter.”
“That’s a yes.” Oh, hell. Now what?
Xander sat up and heaved a great big sigh. Stay or go? Get up or glove up? He felt London’s gaze on his back, then she sat up beside him, clutching the comforter against her bare breasts. They still spilled out. And he wasn’t going to forget—or stop wanting—her anytime soon.
“It’s not like I was hanging on to it for someone or something important. I . . . just couldn’t get around to it sooner. I really want to . . . you know. Um, have sex.” She wrapped a soft hand around his biceps, and he felt her touch jolt him all the way down to his cock. It still throbbed in protest. Son of a bitch.
He shook his head. If she couldn’t bring herself to say the word “fuck,” she wasn’t ready to do it. He disentangled himself and stood, jumping quickly into his boxer briefs and trousers.
When he looked back at her, all rumpled and soft, her lips swollen, her cheeks still flushed, he cursed himself seven ways from Sunday. He wasn’t ready to leave her alone. The thought of never taking that mouth, of never tasting her pink folds again, of never sinking deep inside her bugged the hell out of him. But this girl deserved more than a hit and run. She deserved devotion. Xander knew himself too well; he wasn’t the man to give her more than a good time.
“You’re saying no?” She looked betrayed. “Why does my virginity matter to you? It’s no big deal.”
“So you’re just looking to get rid of it, and I’ll do?” He raised a brow at her.
It should relieve him that she just needed a cock and he happened to be convenient. Maybe a girl like that wouldn’t get attached after all. But it wasn’t relief he felt. Aggravation would be a better description. Absolute fucking fury, actually. So strong it took him by surprise. On some level he didn’t want to examine, he couldn’t stand the thought of her wanting a penis. He wanted her to want him.
Xander raked a hand through his hair. He wasn’t making any sense. Fabulous. She’d robbed him of rational thought. Maybe he’d let all the shit with Javier derail his logic. Maybe he was feeling just useless enough that he wanted to mean something to fucking someone.
And maybe he was just losing his mind.
“Yes,” she admitted. “Well, at first. But you’re obviously really knowledgeable at everything. I mean sex and all.” She flushed. “You’re fun and nice and sexy. I like you. Why not?”
Why not? Good question. She didn’t seem clingy. It wasn’t like she knew enough about him to be interested in him for his money. He could totally understand how someone in their twenties would be missing out if they hadn’t experienced sex. Hell, he got cranky after a couple of days.
But somehow being merely suitable frustrated him. He wasn’t good enough to help Javier, and Xander was so fucking tired of not mattering to the people who mattered to him. And now he was just okay for London. Granted, he didn’t know her well enough for her to be as important to him as his brother, but somehow, he couldn’t blow off her unintended slight. Nor could he simply let her go.
Didn’t that put him between the proverbial rock and a hard place?
“Look, I know I’m not the most beautiful woman ever. It’s all right if you’re not—”
He silenced her with a scorching stare. Really? She was going to play that card? He’d all but swallowed her whole when he should have realized long ago that something was off with her. But he’d kept plowing ahead, wanting it. No, wanting it from her. Fuck, he still did.
“Not interested?” he asked sharply. “Because being hard enough to pound nails says that I’m indifferent to you?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve already admitted that I’ve never done this. Look, I get it. For whatever reason, you don’t want to. It’s not me, it’s you—or what’s that stupid cliché? Actually, never mind. We’ll just . . . part here. I liked you, and you made me feel really good, so thanks for that.”
She backed off the bed, wrapping the big, downy comforter around her, anchoring it with one hand and searching for her clothes with the other. When she’d managed to gather everything, she inched back toward an adjoining door, and her gaze melded with his until she ass-ended her way into the little bathroom.
What the hell was up that she didn’t want him to see her back? Why was she still a virgin? Why did he want her way beyond reason?
“Could you do me a favor and be gone before I come out? This is already awkward enough. I can’t take more.”
Before he could answer, she shut the door.
Okay, now that really pissed him off. Granted, he’d put a stop to the sex, but now that they weren’t having it, she was just done? Like she was only interested if he was putting out?
Buttoning his trousers, he charged for the bathroom door and opened it. Time to stop acting like a pussy and start acting like a Dom.
As he walked in, she shrieked and scrambled to cover herself with the comforter again. “What the hell are you doing in here? Don’t you knock?”
Her bra dangled from her hand, and Xander was tempted to take it from her and tuck it in his pocket. And he still might, depending on what she said next.
“Tell me something and be honest, belleza. If I let you leave here with your virginity intact, will you be looking for someone else to give it to?”
London frowned at him. “You said no. I respect that. I’m not going to bother you anymore.”
“Answer the fucking question.” God, what was it about this woman that had him coming apart at the seams?
“I-I don’t know. Not actively, but . . . You can’t think that I want to be a virgin for the rest of my life.”
Yeah, good point there. He didn’t blame her. He also felt like he’d go postal if he knew that someone else had touched her. Well, wasn’t that just perfect?
Xander scrubbed a hand across his face. “You surprised me. I wasn’t expecting a virgin. I’m sorry if I didn’t handle it well. I think . . .” His brain raced. Was he really about to suggest this? Yeah. Dumbass. “I think we should have lunch tomorrow and discuss what’s next for us. I’m not saying no. I like you, probably more than I should. I . . .” He shrugged. “I don’t know much about virgins. I’ve never been with one. I just need a bit of time to think about it.”
She sighed, and her shoulders drooped. “You either want me or you don’t. And I don’t mean physically. I saw that you wanted me that way.” She flushed. “What I mean is something different. I don’t want your pity, and I’m not expecting you to fake anything.”
“I’m not.”
And that was the problem. Xander realized that he’d been faking everything for years. Hell, maybe a decade or more. He hadn’t fucked anyone who truly excited him in forever. Why London? Why now? He didn’t have those answers. Maybe he’d figure that out before he saw her again.
She cocked a head at him. “I don’t understand.”
“I could be an asshole and fuck you, then never call again. I could take what you’re offering without caring how it affected you. Normally, I could. With you . . .” He shook his head. “For some damn reason, that’s not possible.”
She shoved him out of the bathroom, which took him by surprise. As he stumbled back, she slammed the door in his face and locked it. What the fuck? “What are you doing?”
London didn’t answer him for a long minute, then she wrenched the door open and strutted past him, fully dressed again. She tossed the comforter back on the bed and reached for her shoes, hopping into them. Xander watched her, agape. She wasn’t angry exactly, but he had no idea what to make of her mood.
“Belleza?”
Looking over her shoulder, she tossed him one last glance. The hurt in her eyes spoke volumes. Then she yanked the bedroom door open and left, her steps echoing down the wooden staircase. Seriously, she thought she was leaving? He usually did the leaving. What the hell was going on?
“London!” he shouted, jogging after her. He caught up to her halfway down the stairs and grabbed her arm. “Talk to me.”
“I think I’ve humiliated myself enough for one day. It was stupid to think that a man as gorgeous as you would actually want anything to do with . . .” She refused to meet his gaze, instead shaking her head. “Look, it’s fine. No harm, no foul. We can just forget this happened. W-will you just let go?”
Xander couldn’t explain it because fuck if he understood a damn thing that was going on, but everything inside him told him not to let her out the door, to carry her back up the stairs, strip her down, and open her body to him right now. Be her first.
“No.” He stood firm. “I won’t let you go. And I won’t forget. Give me your number. Promise you’ll have lunch with me. We’ll work it out, because whether you believe it or not, I do want you. Very much.”
She hesitated a long time, then rattled off a number. Xander whipped his phone out of his pocket and programmed in the number. He recognized the area code as one from the Los Angeles area and froze. Did she know who he was? Know his reputation? Just another mystery to pile on top of the enigma she’d become.
When he looked up again, it was to see her at the bottom of the stairs. Goddamn it!
He shoved his phone back in his pocket and took off after her again, meeting her as she tried to unlock the front door. He trapped her body against the door with his own. Her shoulders heaved, and she drew in a shuddering breath. Fuck, he’d made her cry.
Gently, he tried to turn her into his embrace, but she resisted. Xander wasn’t about to be deterred. He took hold of her chin and turned her face to him. Oh, she resisted, but he was more determined. Finally, he forced her watery gaze his way. Tears made silvery paths down both cheeks. His heart sank, and he felt like a fucking heel.
“Belleza . . . Don’t cry.”
“Don’t worry. It’s all me.”
“Because I hurt you.” He cradled her face in his hand. “I think you’re so sexy. I’m already thinking about the next time I can hold you. It will all be different. I’m sorry I fucked this up.”
Her chin trembled as she resisted the urge to cry more. Instead, she merely shrugged. “It’s all right.”
She was done. Absolutely fucking finished for the day, and if he wanted to touch her again, he was going to have to be patient and get his head out of his ass. He’d have to go in with a plan and not hesitate an instant.
“It will be. I’m going to call you tonight, belleza. We’ll have lunch tomorrow and talk. And everything else, if you still want to. All right?”
With a sad nod, she raised a hand. “Bye, Xander.”
Then she was out the front door, striding through the parking lot, and gone.
Chapter Five
LONDON’S head was still reeling as she walked back to her cousin’s house. Thoughts of Xander and every wicked, wonderful thing he’d done to her replayed in slow motion through her head. She’d had a real orgasm, given to her by a gorgeous man. Sophisticated, charming, experienced, clearly smart. Too tempting to resist.
But she’d been a stupid little virgin. Overweight. Scarred. Skittish. She shouldn’t have been surprised or felt as if he’d ripped her heart open when he’d refused to have sex with her. Oh well. Eventually, she’d go out and meet a guy named Bill. Or Alan. Ben might work. Or Tom. Yes, they all sounded staid and responsible and not at all wild. None of them would have seduced her in a strip club and made her go up in flames with that hungry mouth against her sex. None of them would have been experienced enough to have guessed that she was a virgin. None of them would have affected her enough to make her cry.
And odds were, none of them could have made her blood pump or given her coma-inducing orgasms like Xander.
London sighed. She probably shouldn’t have started anything at all with him, but if she wanted to break out of her shell and start living, she was going to have to take chances. Still, she supposed she needed to start with someone who wasn’t quite so beautiful and so obviously one of the foremost experts on pleasuring a woman. Lesson learned. She was moving on.
It wasn’t like Xander would call her or anything.
The afternoon air mugged her with humidity as she put one foot in front of the other toward Alyssa and Luc’s place. Her little strappy sandals wore a sore spot along one of her toes, and perspiration started to trickle under the long fall of her hair. The moisture from her orgasm seeped down her thighs. She shoved the thought to the back of her mind.
Suddenly, her phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket and checked the caller ID, happily surprised to see a familiar number. “Hi, Kata. Up for a walk? I’m all for training more for the 5K. I just need to change shoes.”
“Are you kidding me? Too damn hot now.” Hunter’s wife groaned, and London could picture the sassy brunette now, fanning herself. “Actually, I was wondering if you’d found a job.”