Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Xander stood at the side of the bar and waited for Freya.
They’d been on their way out when Hazel had called Freya’s name and rushed over.
She’d enveloped Freya in a giant hug and pulled her off to the side to chat.
From where he was standing, he could see Freya’s forced smile.
He was a heartbeat away from stepping in when she mouthed, “I’m okay” and held up a finger before turning her attention back to Hazel.
Hazel was beaming as she pointed to someone on the other side of the bar, and both women waved. Then they hugged once more before Freya turned back toward him with her to-go box in hand. She gave him a smile that conveyed her relief, and it socked him right in the gut.
Even though it had been a long-ass day, he didn’t want it to end.
And yes, it had been quite the day. From the budding anticipation of seeing Freya again, to the excitement and utter relaxation from that amazing massage when he got his hair cut, and then to the adrenaline spike of her car getting vandalized, his emotions had been all over the place.
Yeah, he’d nearly had a damn heart attack when Esme and Tash had joined them at dinner, but it had turned out fine.
Freya had rolled with their intrusion, and frankly, he’d been happy to see the women get along.
He adored both Tash and Esme—he hadn’t been lying when he’d said they were his sisters—but he knew they could be prickly as hell.
They didn’t tend to go out of their way to befriend other women.
So it meant a lot that they’d all gotten along so well, and that Freya had liked them.
The thought had him stilling.
Shit. He was in trouble with this woman.
“Ready?” Freya asked, pulling him from his musings.
“Yup,” he said, placing his hand at the small of her back and leading her toward the exit.
When they stepped onto the sidewalk, the cold air had him shifting closer to Freya. Her jacket, while pretty, looked to be more fashionable than functional.
“You said you’re a few blocks away, right?” he asked, turning down the sidewalk.
“Oh, you don’t need to walk me home.” She gestured to his SUV, which was two vehicles in the opposite direction. “Your car’s right here, and my place is out of your way.”
She had to be out of her mind if she thought he’d let her walk home by herself.
Yes, Hudson Island was a relatively safe community, all things considered.
But she’d just had her car vandalized in the parking lot of an uber-upscale resort.
Plus, it was dark, nearly nine at night.
However, instead of saying any of those things, he simply arched an eyebrow at her. “Seriously?”
The corners of her lips twitched as she gazed up at him. Humor danced over her face. “Alpha protector. Right. Silly me, how could I have forgotten?”
Who knew he’d find sarcasm so attractive? “That’s right, smart-ass, how could you possibly forget?” Unable to resist, he reached for her free hand and laced his fingers with hers. After a split second, he met her gaze. “This okay?”
He held his breath as he waited for her reply.
The smile playing at the edges of her lips broke free, and she nodded, squeezing his hand. “Yeah.” Then she pulled him a few steps down the sidewalk. “Come on, I’m above Knit Wits.”
“How’s Hazel doing?” he asked, falling into step beside her.
“I’m not sure, actually. She was all smiles and raving about this new guy she was out on a date with but . . .” Freya sighed, shaking her head. “She said she was surprised the resort had fired her, and I genuinely think she was being serious.”
“I’m assuming the resort explained to her why they fired her?”
“They did, but Hazel said she didn’t think the whole do-not-talk-to-the-press thing applied to her.” A look of disbelief colored her face. “I mean, how could she think it wouldn’t apply to her when it was a company-wide message from the resort’s owner?”
Because people were selfish.
But he bit his tongue. He wasn’t about to badmouth the other woman. Regardless of what had happened, Hazel was still Freya’s friend.
“We’re going to meet up for coffee next week.” She let out another weary sigh and frowned. “I just worry about her, you know?”
He squeezed her hand. “You’re a good friend, Freya.”
That frown on her pretty face was all kinds of wrong. As they continued down the quiet street, he was determined to change that. He told her a funny story from that morning at the gym. How an overly cocky Carmichael had gotten absolutely destroyed by Tash on the sparring mat.
After a block, Freya’s laughter had him smiling. The lyrical sound did something he couldn’t quite describe to his insides. Hell, her mere presence had his heart beating an erratic rhythm in his chest.
He liked her. A lot.
And that scared the shit out of him.
As shallow as it sounded, he didn’t like women and sleep with them. He either liked them and enjoyed their company—like his female colleagues and some of the women who were in relationships with his friends—or he slept with them.
Not both.
Shallow? Absolutely. But that’s what he’d always done. The women he’d slept with knew the score, and the arrangement worked for all parties involved.
But Freya? She was easy to talk to, funny as hell, got along with Tash and Esme—which was freaking unheard of—and so damn sweet. He liked spending time with her, and getting to know her was surprisingly fun.
And she was so fucking pretty.
He’d been half hard from the moment he saw her at the salon today.
During dinner, he’d been pushing away thoughts of sinking his hands into her long dark hair.
Of finding out if her lips held a lingering taste of that bright-blue drink she liked so much.
Of whether the delicate curve of her hip was as soft as he thought it would be.
Yeah . . .
He liked her and wanted her in his bed. And he didn’t know what the hell to do about that.
“Well, this is me,” she said, yanking him from his thoughts. She’d stopped in front of a nondescript door to the right of the entrance to the Knit Wits knitting shop. Releasing his hand, she held out her to-go container to him. “Can you hold this?”
He took the box, and she dug through her purse for her keys. She unlocked the door and pushed it open to reveal a brightly lit staircase. “It’s just me and a small storage unit for the knitting shop up here,” she said, climbing the stairs in front of him.
He followed closely behind, and his eyes wandered. It was a damn shame her jacket covered her ass. However, it didn’t stop him from admiring the flare of her waist, the sway of her hips, or the soft curve of her thighs.
They reached her apartment door, and before she could fit her key into the lock, he bent down and placed her to-go box on the ground.
His actions had her stilling. She looked at him with her head cocked slightly to the side in question.
Amusement danced across her face, and his gut tightened. Yeah, she was stunning.
Taking advantage of her surprise, he shot her a small smile as he slowly rose.
When they were eye level, he searched her gaze, and the heat he saw in her blue eyes had his insides humming.
As he straightened to his full height, he cradled her face in his hands.
Her skin was so damn soft against his palms. She took in a sharp breath, and her exhale had her lips slightly parting.
He had to taste.
His gaze never left hers as he ran his thumb over her plump lower lip and leaned down. Her pupils were blown, and anticipation zinged through him.
When his lips were inches from hers, she rose onto her tiptoes and sealed her lips to his. Surprise had him freezing, and he vaguely heard her keys hit the ground. A split second later, she nipped at his lower lip.
An inferno engulfed him, and he slanted his mouth over hers.
Her lips parted, and he tangled his tongue with hers.
A low groan rattled his chest. She tasted even better than he’d imagined.
Sweet with a hint of that candy drink and a sexy something that was uniquely Freya.
It was a potent combination, and he pulled away only to change the angle before he tasted her mouth again.
So. Fucking. Perfect.
He kept his hands in her hair, and time stood still. It was just the two of them. Right now was all that mattered.
When he felt her arms tighten around him and her soft body press against his front, another growl left his throat. Though she was so much smaller than him, she fit him perfectly.
Letting out a shaky breath, he pulled away again and rested his forehead against hers. “Damn, woman. You’re killing me.” His heart thumped hard in his chest. “I better get going. Or else I won’t.”
She ran her hands up his sides, and he couldn’t hold back a shiver. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”
He smothered another groan. He’d do anything to be with this woman, taste her, explore her.
But by the pink flush brightening her cheeks, he knew they were moving too fast. He ran his thumb over her jaw and dropped a quick kiss to her lips before straightening.
“Believe me, there’s nothing I want more, but . . .” He shook his head.
The blush on her cheeks deepened, and she dropped her gaze like she was embarrassed.
Oh, hell no.
“Freya, sweetheart. It’s not that I don’t want you, because I sure as hell do.
” He wrapped his arms around her and ensured there was zero space between them.
Rocking his hips into her, his hard length pressed into her abdomen.
Her eyes widened, and her breath hitched.
“Do not doubt for a second how much I want you. Trust me, baby, you have no idea what you do to me.”
She arched an eyebrow, and any lingering doubts clouding her face were gone. The look she gave him was pure sex. Her blue eyes dared him to look away as she rubbed against him.
He groaned and then chuckled. “Okay. Maybe you do have an idea.”
She smiled. “I’m getting a hint.”
He kissed her again—because how could he not?—but before it could get too heated, he straightened. “I want to take my time with you, and it’s already late. You have to work tomorrow. I’ll be by at eight to pick you up. That time still work for you?”
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “You’re not sick of my company yet?”
He tilted her chin up with his finger and claimed her lips again. His tongue swept into her mouth, exploring. He couldn’t get enough of her. A low moan sounded—he didn’t know if it was his or hers—and once again, he pulled away, this time putting space between them.
“That answer your question?” He dropped another kiss to her lips before straightening. “To be continued, okay?”
She nodded, and her eyes were hazy with desire. She rose on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “To be continued.”
Unable to resist, he deepened their kiss but kept it quick. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk away otherwise. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He nodded to her door and then bent down to retrieve her to-go box and keys. Holding them out for her, he said, “I’ll wait until you lock up.”
After unlocking her front door, she took the box from him, paused in the threshold, and turned back to him. “Thank you for dinner, Xander. I had a lot of fun with you today.”
His name on her lips had goosebumps rising over his arms. “I did too. How about a repeat tomorrow night?”
Her smile widened, and something loosened in his chest. She stepped into her apartment and looked at him over her shoulder. “I’d like that. See you tomorrow, and thanks again for everything today. Goodnight.”
She closed the door, and he waited until he heard the turn of her deadbolt.
For a few silent seconds, he simply stared at her shut door.
Part of him wanted to knock on her door and take her up on her earlier offer, but the other part—the one that was completely twisted up in a knot—screamed at him to march his ass home.
He spun on his heel and quickly made his way down the stairs.
Tomorrow. He was going to see her again tomorrow.
Hopefully, his mind would no longer be racing by then. As it was, he didn’t know what the hell he was doing.
However, he now knew a few things for certain. Freya’s inky-black hair felt like the smoothest silk between his fingers. Her lips held the tiniest hint of that blue-raspberry drink she loved. The gentle curves of her hips were soft and fit perfectly in his hands.
While he wasn’t quite sure how to proceed, he knew he wanted more . . .