8. Dani
8
DANI
TASTY LOVE
I never imagined having Xeno in my apartment would feel this comfortable. He fills the space in a way that makes my usually stoic home feel impossibly cozy, like the walls, even the glass ones, have vanished. Every time he moves, I catch his scent—subtle cologne mixed with something uniquely him—and it scrambles my thoughts.
"You don't have to cook for me,” I say for the third time, fidgeting with the chenille throw he brought from his bed for my couch. I’ve showered and changed into an oversized T-shirt and shorts. He’s deliciously shirtless with black joggers hung low, his semi-erect dick kissing his thighs like I want to. His hair is still wet, hanging down his back, those inked forearms flexing as he works.
Sexy motherfucker.
He flashes me a lopsided grin. It’s playful and sexy. “I know.”
“I’m perfectly fine ordering from Al di La’s. Xeno.”
The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. Not that Silvio’s club has subpar cuisine; it just reminds me of the gourmet meals Oscar would delight in while he watched my Size 2 white nightie hanging on too-thin arms. I know Omar will do worse if he manages to capture me alive. The thought sends a chill down my spine that I try to hide.
Xeno moves around my kitchen with silent grace and confidence. Turning from the stove, he leans against my kitchen counter, pushing eggs from a pan onto two plates, watching me with those intense dark eyes that see too much.
"Not happening." His voice is firm but gentle. "After that phone call, no one gets in here, including food.”
I watch as he grabs a pincher. Two glasses of fresh-made green juice I made before he shooed me from my own kitchen rest next to each plate of steaming eggs and hot buttered toast. The recipe is one I learned on assignment in Mazatlán, Mexico—a blend of cucumbers, celery, spinach, pineapple, green apple, Nopal cactus, and Serrano chiles.
I join him, fishing forks and cloth napkins from drawers beside the fridge. “You always investigate while you cook?” I ask.
If he only knew the half of it. I won’t confirm or deny his suspicions. But my number is private. Meaning Omar has eyes on me within The Governor. Whatever he has planned, he’s prepared well in advance of the airport ambush.
“When the woman I’m fucking is not forthcoming, yes.”
I force a laugh that sounds hollow even to my ears. "About that—I just remembered that’s a bad idea. It’s late, so tomorrow you’ll move out while I’m at the gym. I’ll be gone an —“
Before I can finish the sentence, Xeno crosses my tiny kitchen in two long strides. His hands cup my face, and then he's kissing me. Not roughly, but with enough intensity to make my knees weak. When he pulls back, his thumbs trace my cheekbones. "Nice try," he murmurs. "But I’m not going anywhere tomorrow night or the next.”
My heart hammers against my ribs. "Xeno…” I try to step back, but I'm already against the refrigerator door. His proximity is intoxicating and dangerous. "We shouldn't—"
"Shouldn't what?" His lips brush my temple, then trail down to my ear. "Shouldn't acknowledge this will happen between us? Shouldn't admit that you’ve been fighting it for days?” His breath is warm against my skin as he whispers all the ways he wants to worship my body, promises that make me shiver and lean into him despite my better judgment.
I press my palms against his chest, feeling his heartbeat racing as fast as mine. "You don't understand. I’m complicated. It’s complicated." The understatement of the century. How do I tell him that getting close to me could get him killed? That Omar won't stop until he destroys everything I care about?
"Then uncomplicate it," Xeno says, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze. The intensity in his eyes makes me catch my breath. "Tell me, Dani. Whatever it is, let me help."
For a moment, I almost break. The truth burns in my throat, desperate to escape. But I swallow it back. I can't risk him. Can't bear the thought of Omar targeting him, too. "I just... need some space tonight."
He sighs but steps back, respecting my boundaries even as frustration flickers across his features. "Fine. I'm taking the couch. Being in your bed will only remind me I’m not fucking you."
He points to the single chair at the counter. “Eat.”
I’ve never invited anyone for dinner, so it never occurred to me to request a mate. I go to hoist myself up to the elevated seat and wince. Xeno scoops me up and places me on my ass.
“I could’ve done it,” I murmured.
He shrugs, giving me that grin that makes my stomach flutter. “I know.”
Instead of sitting on the couch, he stands beside me, his back pressed into the counter. I fork eggs into my mouth. Flavor burst on my tastebuds—these eggs are light, fluffy, and sent from heaven. I can’t help the moan of culinary ecstasy. “Oh, these are good,” I exclaim, in wide-eyed awe. Who is this man, and can I keep him? “Are you like some top chef who kills to blow off steam?”
He raises a brow like I’m the weird one. “I’m half Greek. We’re born with a spatula and oregano leaves.”
We both laugh, but my eyes stray south. My nipples tighten at how easily he’s slipped into the mode of caring for me. How I allow him liberties no one else dare try. If only I’d met him first. “Thank you,” I whisper.
He pauses, lowering his fork. When he leans in to kiss me, I meet him halfway. He likes tasting me. And I love that he likes it. It’s pretend, I know. But I won’t begrudge my body’s need for him.
“You’re welcome.”
Two hours later, I washed while he dried. He likes his kitchen spotless before lights out. I learned he’s thirty-five, four years old than me, he prefers overseas to America, and his childhood was fucked. He talked, and I listened, loving his voice surrounding me. Tonight I feel, alive, buzzing with a different energy, an eagerness for what happens next. I’m still tossing and turning in bed, my pussy aching to be filled, hyper-aware of Xeno’s presence on my couch. Every creak of the building makes me tense. Can he see me? Does he know I’m wet for him? The shadows in the corners seem to shift and dance.
A particularly loud noise from the street makes me bolt upright, heart pounding. Before I can process what's happening, strong arms scoop me up. I let out a startled squeak.
"Enough," Xeno says, cradling me against his chest. "You haven't stopped moving since you laid down. You're exhausted, and you're worried about something—don't try to deny it. I can feel your tension. You’re vibrating with it.”
I should protest as he moves me around in my bed. I should insist on maintaining distance. Instead, I find myself curling into his warmth, pressing my face against his neck. He smells like safety, like everything I want but shouldn't have.
He tangles his hand in my hair with surprising gentleness. His eyes find mine. ”Sleep," he says.
“And if I don’t. You gonna rock me to sleep?”
He gives my strands a tug, forcing me not to look away. “Hell no. I’m going eat your pussy until you scream my name and pass the fuck out.”
My jaw goes slack. A hint of a whimper escapes. I lick my lips, then sink my teeth into the bottom one, biting back the plea on the tip of my tongue.
“That what you want, Dani? My tongue in your pretty pussy?”
In response, I rub my legs together, but my pussy throbs to be filled. “Answer me.”
“Yes.”
Now that I’ve given my permission, Xeno says nothing. He places me on my back. Without preamble he strips off my lace panties and brings them to his nose, inhaling.
“I have your scent, ma cherie. Too late to run,” he smiles.
Slowly, I spread my legs, displaying my pussy. “Not running,” I sigh.
The hair is trimmed, barely there. I hate it shaved because my monster loved it. Xeno runs his hands, big and warm, up my inner thighs. My legs tremble in anticipation. I want his tongue delving into my hot center, I imagine him plunging deeper, his fingers toying with my clit while he tongue fucks me to orgasm.
I feel his breath his on my mons. “Such a good pussy,” he chuckles. “Already wet for me.”
The first slide of his tongue starts at my ass and trails all the way to my clit. My lower body jolts off the bed, but Xeno overpowers me with one strong arm anchoring my hips. He latches onto my clit, sucking it between his teeth. And then I feel his finger breach my pussy. He’s stroking my pussy, his long digit hit my spot, and I cry out. He does it again, stretching me with two fingers this time, pushing in and out. I’m sinking and rising all at once. I’m spinning, and spinning, the tension pulling me tighter and tighter. Oh, I’m so fucking close. My head is pounding, so is my pulse.
“Yes, yes, keep fucking me.” But he doesn’t. No, he fucking rotates his fingers, drilling new territory in my pussy, marking me with his teeth, his tongue.
My back arches up off the mattress, and I orgasm on a scream. It’s his name, not a heavenly deity, I shout. He’s still eating out my pussy, last mealing the hell out of me. Overwhelmed and overstimulated, my body is tingling and my mind is blank. Fuck, I can’t even remember my name. But I damn sure won’t forget his. I beg him to stop. “Xeno,” I moan.
Suddenly he grips both my thighs and my ass is lifted off the bed. Then he thrusts his tongue deeper into my pussy, drinking me down, a distilled spirit from his private collection.
“Oh shit,” I breathe.
My heels are pressed into his back. He’s shoveling my pussy into his mouth, forcing me to ride his face. The sounds are moist; loud, and satisfying. How have I never been fucked this good? He’s showing how good this thing between us is, that it can’t be denied. Just when I think it can’t get any better, he pushes his finger deep into my ass. My tight rose resists the invasion, but Xeno doesn’t stop. He presses, stretching me until I whimper, panting through the discomfort. Slowly he retreats, and then—he plows back into my ass robbing me of breath. The bite of pain drags me over the edge, and I gush my sticky cream down his throat. I give him what he wants—my surrender. “Oh, oh, ooooo, Xeno,” I scream his name.
“My bad girl,” he whispers into the night. Hmm, I like that he acknowledges my gift, my willingness to let him use my body. He’s pleased, the gleam in his eyes as wicked as what he’s doing to me. I can barely lift my head, but I manage a shaky smile. That’s when he comes to his knees, whips out his thick cock, grips the shaft, and begins milking his rod from base to tip.
“Fuck,” I gawk in awe at his magnificent dick. Thank heaven for the city’s nightlife. He jacks himself hard, the way I imagine he’ll fuck me. His breathing speeds up. Air blows in and out of his nostrils. His dick pulses, the veins more pronounced, and then his body goes rigid. A roar echoes in my apartment before thick ropes of his hot jizz hits my thighs, my pussy, my mound.
“Oh fuck,” he bellows. “Want to be inside you.”
Oh-my-goodness, I’m so turned on. I want to fuck him. Right now, gunshot wound be damned. My spasming pussy agrees. Xeno crawls up the bed. He hovers above me. The city lights illuminate his handsome features. A hint of a smile crosses his lips, but his eyes burn. My juices glisten on his face. I like him covered in me.
Panting, I raise up on my elbows. We’re bathed in light and shadow, and it’s beautiful. He lowers his head, his mouth inches from mine. I know what he wants. Slowly, I extend my tongue and lick across his mouth. His grunt of pleasure is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard from a man. I do it again.
“All of it,” he commands.
I do exactly as I am told, loving the taste of me and him on my tongue. It’s erotic, licking him clean. Will he want me to suck my cum from his cock after he’s fucked me? I’d do it. I’ve orgasmed twice, but my pussy spasms demanding more attention. Once I’m done, he grabs my head, tilting it back, kissing me.
“So fucking good, Chocolate.” By the smug expression on his face, he’s happy with himself. “Next time I nut, it’ll be in your mouth.”
I know I won’t resist, can’t dig deep enough in my bag of reasons to stop this. He pulls the covers over us. His hand is on my belly rubbing his seed into my skin, making him a part of me.
“I’m here. Nothing's going to hurt you."
If only he knew. But as he settles beside me, careful to avoid bumping my injury. The tension I felt has been sucked from my body. Xeno’s steady breathing becomes a lullaby. And for the first time since Omar's threats began, I feel something dangerously close to peace.
Still, as sleep claims me, I can't help but wonder, how long can I keep my secret? How long before Omar destroys this, too? And most dangerous of all—how long can I keep fighting this magnetic pull between Xeno and me?
His hand finds mine in the darkness, fingers intertwining. And despite all my fears, all my reservations, I hold on tight.