Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
XANDER
T he bustle of the diners in the restaurant fades away as my gaze moves around the round table, meeting and holding eye contact with three different pairs of wide eyes. The Council. I know what they call us behind our backs, The Four Fucksmen , but for this endeavor, I think they could use some distinction. My three comrades in arms, hopefully. I give nothing away as my heart races a bit and they look at each other, giving subtle nods before they all provide me their attention.
“What do you need from us?” Sasha asks.
Leaning forward, I meet her gaze, scanning them all again. “You’re in?” My voice rises in surprise. I thought I’d have to argue them down. Plead my case for needing their help to get closer to London.
“Of course, we’re in,” Mia chimes in.
Gem nods. “Duh. We’ve already been singing your praises.”
A laugh of relief falls out of me as I expel a breath. “Thank you, ladies. I don’t know what I was worried about.”
“Lesson learned. Never doubt us. We’re full of surprises,” Mia says.
Waving me off, she continues, “We’ve already decided you’re going to be together. You are perfect for each other.” She sighs, her hand rests on her heart as if she’s swooning.
I want to deny it, tell them to chill, but it’s just something about her that makes my need for her grow more every day. No pressure. Nodding, I work to gather my thoughts, as Sasha makes the come on gesture, prompting me to answer her question.
“Well, previously, I asked Sasha to help me out with some recon on that she-devil, London. And, no offense, your recon sucked, and four minds are better than one, so help me out. What can you give me?”
After months of scouring London’s social media and consuming work-related articles about her online, I had more questions than I had answers. Her social media was bare, and now that she’s shared a bit more about her past, I’m assuming it was due to removing all the pictures she had with her ex. With seven years of deleted memories and the few pictures she’s posted since their split and us meeting at the wedding, I’m still in the dark.
“No offense taken. My horrible recon was purposeful, silly. We wanted to see if you’d persist on your own.” Her eyes shone with a challenge I’d never seen from her.
“Yeah, we wanted you to work for it, to see you try, before we spilled our guts,” Gem adds.
“Now that you’ve proven yourself to us, our infinite wisdom is at your service,” Mia says in some weird voice.
“You have to show her who you are. Who you really are. She has… thoughts about you. Prove her wrong,” Sasha adds quietly.
The Council has spoken.
“ London? London Cameron, is that you?” I call out to her back. Her drawn-up shoulders tell me yes, yes, it is her. When she doesn’t turn around but picks up her pace, I laugh and snake through the crowd to catch up to her, although I already know where she’s going.
When she whirls on me outside of a steel and glass high-rise, my grin is already firmly in place, as my eyes roam over her beautiful, upturned face.
Three… Two… One…
She looks down at the vibrating phone in her hand, frowning as she reads the text.
Ushering her closer to the building and out of the path of foot traffic, I feign concern. “Is everything okay?”
She glances up, those hazel eyes flashing gold as the sun hits them and time stands still, the world around me quiets for the briefest moment as our gazes collide before the blaring of our surroundings burst around us, breaking our connection.
Her eyes dart away as she clears her throat. “Umm, yeah, Sasha was supposed to meet me, but something came up last minute with her dance studio.”
Before I can respond, a short, curvy woman with dark hair and dark eyes approaches us. “London, it’s so good to see you again,” she says before turning to me with a smile.
“Ana Alvarez.” She extends her hand.
“Alexander Grant. Nice to meet you.” I offer a small smile and a firm shake.
Nodding, she turns to London. “Are you ready to head up? I think you’re going to like this one.”
London doesn’t seem convinced, but she nods before turning to me. “It was… good to see you.” The warmth in her voice tells me she means it and that hits me in the chest.
“Wait,” I say, taking her arm. “If you would excuse us.” I nod to Ana before pulling London away. “You’re looking at an apartment in this building? Let me help since I’m guessing Sasha was supposed to. I’m better anyway, I watch tons of HGTV. House Hunters is one of my favorites.” It’s one of her favorites too, but I keep my knowledge of that to myself.
She gives me a strange look before a small smile lifts her lips. “Fine. I could use some help. Your place is close by. I’d love to hear more about this neighborhood, too. Although, this isn’t exactly what I’m looking for. The amenities are nice.”
I nod as we turn back to Ana and I hold the door open for her to walk through before London breezes by, the aromas of vanilla and something I can’t quite put my finger on wafts around me triggering a vision of us tangled in silk sheets and before I can stop myself, my hand comes down to smack her ass.
“You’re welcome, babycakes, and I’m loving the shoes,” I say, eyeing her blood red patent leather stilettos. She looks back over her shoulder with an exaggerated scowl, but I don’t miss the sparkle in her eyes as she turns, hips swaying, and follows Ana to the elevator.
Trailing behind her on this random Wednesday, I can’t hold in my smile. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
Once we’re in the apartment she’s here to see, I lock my lips, keeping my expression impassive as I take it all in. Nice views. Gleaming dark hardwood floor. Basic white walls. Boring ass white kitchen.
Not what I pictured for London at all. But I keep it all to myself as I follow her through the two-bedroom, two-bath apartment.
“Check out this closet, London. I don’t think it’s even big enough to fit the different pairs of shoes I’ve seen you wear,” I call out, unable to point out yet another shortcoming.
Sticking her head around the corner into the primary closet, she grimaces, before meeting my eyes and we both laugh, as Ana joins us.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I’m going to step out to take this call. Please take a few minutes to walk through again and then we can chat about options.”
We watch her leave, both quiet until we hear the click of the door closing.
Finally joining me in the closet, I whisper, “Okay, what do you really think about this place?”
Leaning closer, she whispers, “Why are we whispering?”
Something flips over in my gut, her use of we instead of you cements these staggering feelings that are roaring like a forest fire and it seems like we’re in this thing, whatever it is, together.
Looking around the too small, underwhelming space, I shake my head before holding out my hand for her to take.
“Come with me.”
After an almost imperceptible hesitation, her eyes flitting from my outreached hand to my face, she takes my hand in hers. Almost instantly, I relax into it, even though a current of heat and awareness flows through me from where we’re connected.
Leading her into the character-free living room and even with it being an open concept with a clear view of the kitchen, it still feels small, stifling. Stopping in the center of the room, I move behind her, my hands instinctively sliding to her waist. After a brief caress, they continue their exploration, meeting the cool texture of her leather pencil skirt as I grasp her hips.
And like every time before, she practically melts into me, her body fitting perfectly to mine and we’re melded together. She trembles, my breath fans through her hair, my lips grazing her ear as I whisper.
“When I picture you, safe and sound at home, cuddled up on the couch with a book and a glass of your favorite wine. This sterile, boxy space isn’t what I imagine. You’re so poised and always so put together out there. Home shouldn’t be that for you. Instead… Homey. Comfortable. I see a large, overstuffed sofa, where you get lost in the plush cushions. A roaring fireplace for those notorious Chicago winters. Beautiful moldings and maybe exposed brick. Wood beams. Custom built-ins to display your books or knickknacks from your travels.”
Turning her toward the sliding glass door, expansive views of Chicago below, I say, “I see tree lined streets, a neighborhood, maybe acres of lush greenery, or even lake views. Outdoor space where you can entertain privately with your closest friends, not the shared communal space available here.”
Maneuvering her to face me, those pretty eyes are wide as they hold mine, and I can’t resist running my thumb over her cheek and below her glossed lip.
“Don’t get me started on that closet. We need a nice space to exhibit all those beautiful shoes you keep teasing me with.”
Before she can say anything, Ana walks in, her voice sounds like she’s speaking underwater as we remain in this little bubble we built in this quiet space.
“So, what do you think?” she calls out.
Not taking her eyes off mine, she smiles softly before pursing her lips. “Let’s keep looking.” She pauses, her eyes searching mine. “You’re full of surprises, Alexander Grant.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tease that she could be full of me, but instead, she beats me to it.
“Actually, Ana, we’re going to need just a few more minutes.”
With that gleam in her eyes, I’m ready to buy the building to be alone with her, but Ana nods before closing the door.
“Say it,” she whispers, her hand drifting to my thickening cock.
“I’d rather you be full of me.”
“No worries. I understand. I hope you feel better. Get some rest and I’ll check in with you later. Bye, babe.” I overhear from where I’m creeping in the shadows.
Should I feel bad for having Gem lie and tell London she was sick? Nope. I’m playing chess, not checkers. To get what I want, I have no problem using all the pieces on the board and Gem was happy to play pawn.
I give her a minute as she considers what to do. Scanning the menu again, I know I’ve got her and she’s not going anywhere. Gesturing to the waitress, she nods, gathers the items, and heads in London’s direction, as I take a seat at the bar.
Moments later, the heat of a thousand suns blazes my back, but I resist the urge to turn and be burned by her ire.
“You expect me to believe this was all a coincidence? Of all the restaurants in all the towns in all the world, you walk into mine.”
Turning, I blink a few times. “You’re a Casablanca fan?”
“Who isn’t?” she scoffs. “And don’t try to change the subject.”
“I’m not and there are tons of people who aren’t.”
She shrugs. “Then those people are morons.”
I grin in agreement. “Absolute fucking idiots.”
She laughs, leaning into me. “You’re up to something, and I’m going to figure you out.”
“Not until I finger you out of your mind, babycakes.” I waggle my brows.
Her eyes widen before she bursts into a loud, raucous laugh, her head thrown back and I allow my eyes to roam her slender neck and the smooth skin at her collar bone. The soft white silk of her shirt is such a lovely contrast to the decadent glow of her skin.
Pulling it together, she gives a soft slap to my chest, as she shakes her head, those eyes gleam like beautiful gemstones as they hold my gaze.
My eyes wander her gorgeous face. “I love your laugh. Actually, I don’t know which one I love more, the sound, or being the one that elicits that reaction.”
She leans in as if sharing a secret. “Maybe that’s why I’m starting to like you. You make me laugh because I never know what’s going to come out of that mouth. You keep me on my toes.”
Giving her a onceover, I say, “I’d love to keep you on your back, your hands and knees. But for now, let’s go enjoy that bottle of wine I sent you.”
Her tinkling laughter shoots waves of happiness through me as she shakes her head and turns back to her table, and I follow like the smitten puppy that I am.
Stepping beside her, I pull out her chair, allowing her fragrance of vanilla and jasmine to envelope me and I breathe her in. Now that I know what kind of perfume she wears, thanks to The Council , I’m picking up on all the subtle notes.
“You smell good enough to eat, London Cameron. And as always, your beauty is enchanting.”
She meets my gaze with a little tilt of her head. “You always say that, but what about my shoes? You didn’t even notice them.” She gives a little pout that I don’t think she’s even conscious of.
Not needing to spare her black boots with the YSL heel a glance, because I already clocked them, I say, “Lovely as always, but I want to see them cast aside, maybe at the foot of my bed.”
She gives a little hum, stepping in closer, her warm breath fanning along my neck. “Wouldn’t that be fun.”
“It would indeed. Now, have a seat. I’d like to enjoy the pleasure of your company.”
Surprise registers on her face, her eyebrows shooting up before her eyes narrow.
“I can’t figure you out, Alexander Grant. Every time I think I have, you flip another page in your book, and it’s in a new language I can’t interpret.”
Pushing in her chair, I take my seat across from her at the small, round table. “I can’t wait to spread your… pages.”
She howls before saying, “I can’t wait for you to spread my pages again, and read me like your favorite book, from front to back.”
“Don’t tempt me here, unless you want to disrespect another restroom.” My voice dropping an octave at the thought of sliding in between those thighs.
Her scrunched nose and little headshake are all the answers I need.
“Then, let’s play a little game,” I say as I begin pouring us a glass of her favorite white wine. “I want to get to know you better. How about Truth or Drink?”
Leaning back in her chair, she considers me. “Sure, but we’re going to need something stronger than this delicious wine,” she says as she turns to gain our waitress’s attention.
Watching on, I take a sip of the wine and she’s right, it is delicious, the perfect amount of sweetness, and the desire to taste it on her lips is strong. She rattles off an order of vodka, tequila, and even rum shots before adding several orders of appetizers.
“Actually, would we be able to move to a bigger table? Preferably a booth?”
My head shoots up at her question and the waitress nods and runs off to prepare for our transition. I take another sip, eying her before rising when the waitress beckons, and follow London to the circular high-backed booth tucked away in the back corner. Taking a look around the restaurant, many of the small dark wood tables are surprisingly empty but the circular booths lining the walls are occupied.
My eyes rake over her face and that soft smile that I hope is just for me. “We do need a little more privacy, don’t we?”
She lifts one shoulder in a little shrug. “It couldn’t hurt. Shots make me wild… or sleepy. I just may end up dancing on the table or under it.”
I stifle a groan as vivid images flood my mind. Her standing tall and confident above me, her stunning body moving under the spotlight, everyone watching, wishing they were me, wanting what’s mine.
Sliding into the booth, I get nice and close, whispering in her ear, “Where is that waitress? We need those shots stat, but let’s make them doubles.”
“Doubles? It’s a weeknight. With me not having a job, I’m essentially on vacation. What’s your excuse? Don’t you have to work in the morning?”
“Eh.” I shrug. “I make money in my sleep, it’s that easy. Besides, I’m the boss. I can be late or maybe I’ll be too busy enjoying you to even go in tomorrow.”
Her hum and tentative smile give me pause as I run my eyes over her perfect face, all high cheekbones and full lips.
“You’re a mystery. But I’m not giving up until I know everything that brings a genuine smile to your lips.”
“Persistence. A noble trait. But if you play your cards right…” She gestures to the tray of shots the waitress sits down. “Ask the right questions, and I’ll be an open book.”
Rubbing my hands together, I scan the tray before turning to the waitress. “May we also have water and whatever juices you have. My pretty girl needs a couple mixers, or she will be stumbling out of here.”
She nods before rushing off and London’s gaze is riveted to me, but I can’t decipher what the crease at her brow means, so I push it aside and start with the hard-hitting questions.
“Let the games begin,” I say. “How’d you get into photography?”
Her brows shoot up. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that question. You and your surprises, Mr. Grant. My love of photography started when I was young. My parents love travel, and the sense of adventure and exploring is ingrained in me. They gifted me my first camera when I was ten.”
The soft expression and smile on her face as she reminisces pulls at something in my chest.
“Tell me a favorite childhood memory.” Resting her chin on her hand, her eyes are soft as she watches me.
My smile lifts easily because this is an easy one. “One of my favorite memories were my summer’s here in the city. I grew up in Colorado, but my mom is from here. Spending time with my grandparents, in the home where she grew up, my grandparents made sure to pass down our family traditions and so many memories…” I trail off, lost in those comforting feelings.
“Tell me about your summers with Ty and Eli? Were they as annoying as they are now?”
I lean in, mesmerized by her smile and the light in her eyes as a memory surfaces.
“They were so annoying.” She laughs. “Always following me around. But I wouldn’t have changed it for anything. We all wished for a sibling, but we had each other, and my summers with them are some of my most cherished memories.”
She gives herself a little shake and lobs an easy question my way, but I can’t wait until it’s my turn again.
“Where do you like being kissed most?”
Shaking her head, she hums. “Besides my lips?”
I nod as my eyes slip down to her pout, that slightly fuller bottom lip begging to be sucked.
Her smile heats something deep in my gut as she answers, and my eyes trail the featherlight caress of her fingertips as they drift to just below her left ear.
“Here,” she whispers, before moving on to the hollow of her throat with another hum as her fingers softly swipe her scented skin.
I’m entranced as they drift lower, to the swell of her breast. We both suck in a breath as her fingers circle her puckered nipple that’s visible through her fitted silk shirt.
And we both groan as her hand drifts lower and my eyes shoot from her beautiful face as her tongue peeks out to wet those soft lips and back to her hand as it slips under the table, out of sight. She shifts and I know as her eyes flutter shut, she's found her favorite place to be kissed.
“Babycakes, can I taste those fingers?” I struggle to say over the gravel lodged in my throat.
She laughs before returning her hand to the table. “You don't get another question. It's my turn. Where do you like to be kissed?”
“The question shouldn't be where I like to be kissed. It should be where would I like to kiss you. Thanks for the tutorial. I can't wait to follow that path with my tongue and teeth. But you already know I have a sweet tooth and the only place you missed were those cakes. I can't wait to sink my teeth in for a big bite.” I chomp my teeth to emphasize.
Her hand goes to her hair as she gives a soft huff of nervous laughter. “So, I was right. You're a total ass kisser.”
I shrug. “I wouldn't say that. But for you, I’ll bite it, kiss it, slap it, lick it, fuck it. All the things I know you'd enjoy. Things I know you secretly crave.”
Her eyes dilate at each word that falls from my lips. But before she can respond, our waitress returns, and we both shoot up straight, neither of us aware we’d been leaning in, our bodies arching toward each other. As we turn to the waitress, her cheeks are tinted a blazing pink. And while she may not have heard what was said, she could gobble this sexual tension up with a spoon.
“S-so s-sorry about that,” she stammers before clearing her throat. “Here are your mixers and some limes and lemons. Your appetizers will be out shortly. Please let me know if you need anything else,” she mumbles as she turns and scurries off.
London smirks at me, those eyes distracting me as she says, “You seem to have that effect on women.”
Leaning back, settling in, I stretch an arm along the back of the booth as she follows each movement. “And what effect would that be?”
“There’s something about you. You exude sex. Confidence.” She waves a hand around, gesturing to me. “Slight arrogance but like you can back it up. You had that young woman tongue tied.”
I shrug. “There is only one woman's tongue I'm worried about and that’s yours, Ms. Cameron.”
She doesn’t laugh like I expected her to, but instead swipes at the condensation on her water glass before saying, “Fine, don't answer. But it's still my turn, and I get to ask you another question since you didn't want to answer that one.”
Nodding, I fight the urge to touch her hand to get those eyes back on me.
“What’s the longest you’ve gone without sex?”
“Hmm,” I say, making a show of drumming my fingers on the table, before checking my watch on my left hand. “When was the wedding?”
Ignoring my silent plea, her devastating eyes remain fixed on her glass. “New Year’s Eve.”
“And when did you come over as that beautifully wrapped gift? Was that last week?”
She nods. “Yeah.”
“Well, I would say about three months.”
Her eyes fly to mine as her mouth drops open, looking like one of those cartoons where their jaw hits the ground with a crash.
“You're telling me you haven't had sex with anyone besides me in the last three months?” she squeaks.
Leaning forward, I grip her chin, so she holds my gaze. “I'm absolutely telling you I haven't even thought about anyone, let alone shared my bed since then. Since you.” My eyes explore hers as my thumb strokes rhythmically along her smooth cheek. “How could I? I can still remember the tight squeeze of your thighs around me. I was a goner.”
Her eyes dilate before she huffs out a small laugh. “Alexander. You're too much.”
Getting comfortable, my thumb slides along her lip as I consider her. “Nah, I wouldn't say too much. But I think I’m more than enough to make it ache. Do you remember? That next morning. Probably even all night, you felt me with every movement, didn’t you, baby?”
The small smile on her lips tells me what she refuses to, so I accept her silence.
“My turn. What’s the greatest number of times you’ve orgasmed at one time or even in a day?” I shrug. “I’ll even accept solo mission numbers.”
“What a waste of a question. One! People aren’t just coming multiple times.”
“Babycakes, you came on my dick twice just last week. It would have been more, but you got scared and fled.”
I rush on before she can protest. “I can’t decide if you ran because even you were shocked of what I can do to your body, and you were running from it… because it’s new to you. I make you feel things, London, and you don’t know what to do with that. But next time, don’t rush off. I want to exhaust you, make you come so many times you forget your name, but your throat would be raw from screaming mine.”
Her low, heavy-lidded eyes linger on me for a few beats before shifting to the shots. I can’t help but laugh as she picks up a vodka.
Grimacing, she shoots it before she looks at me again. Nodding, she picks up another and takes it without hesitation.
“I didn’t even ask a question. What has you taking shots… something I said?” I grab a tequila.
Ignoring me, she asks, “What’s a non-sexual thing that you find attractive?”
“Are shoes a weird answer? Or maybe it’s the feet in them. It probably is but how about eyes? I find your eyes captivating. The color is so unique with swirls of jade and amber, it’s like they look right through you to your very being. You know those eyes that gleam with delight and sparkle with mischief? I find those attractive. What else? I like the curve of a shoulder. The soft little space right below the ear.”
Silence stretches between us before she groans. “I’ll be back in a second.”
Before I can respond, she slips from the booth and disappears down the hall toward the restrooms.