Chapter 35
Corrine
I hadn’t been permitting myself to believe that Xavier was okay after the fire, nor that he completely remembered our relationship. I’d spent the morning distracted between Xavier’s thirst for my pussy and my equal desire to have him near me, in me, on me, everywhere.
And now, while he’s in the shower, I permit myself to soak it in thoroughly. Xavier survived an attempted murder, one that was meant to send the rest of us a message while taking his life. But they hadn’t succeeded. And for that, I am eternally grateful. Because now I have him fully back with me. And not the half-ass Xanaxed version, but the one I fell for months ago.
I smile now as I settle on his bed and grab my phone to text my assistant.
Me: I’m sorry I’ve been MIA lately. I promise to fill you in. Thank you for stepping up this week.
Truth be told, I’ll never be able to fill her in completely, as I’m not even sure she’d believe me. ‘Yeah, so I haven’t been focused on work because my boyfriend is a target for some type of criminal organization, and oh, also, they may try to kill me too.’
It's not exactly your regular office conversation. Nevertheless, I have to tell her why I’m not diligent about all our upcoming events.
I move on to my thread with Riley next.
Me: Please tell Sebastian thanks for me.
Riley: Are you having a good time “catching up??” ??
Me: Yeah. I have been avoiding asking him any details, I think it feels too intense. But at least now he doesn’t hate me anymore.
Riley: He never hated you, C.
Me: See you later?
Riley: Of course.
I hear Xavier’s electric razor in the bathroom and stand to get dressed. Suddenly, Xavier peeks his head out of his bathroom. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I was going to make myself decent. The guys are coming over later, right?”
“Yes,” he smiles, “but that doesn’t mean you need clothes on.”
I pull on leggings from my bag and stand behind him so we can both look at our reflections in the bathroom mirror.
“You know,” I start, “we haven’t really talked about what last night was about. Do we need to be prepared for more?”
Xavier turns to face me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I’m still naked from the waist up. He looks down and then rubs his bare chest against my tits. “You never have to worry with me around Butterfly.”
I laugh, “Yeah, but you and I both know I have a job and a life, and it’s not like we’re together 24/7.”
“So let’s change that,” he says.
“Change what?” I ask. “You want me to quit my job?”
“No,” he laughs, “I want you to move in with me. Get rid of your place. Let me take better care of you.”
I’m taken aback; I wasn’t expecting this type of conversation when I kicked this off. “I don’t know, Xavier. I’ve been in my apartment since I moved to the city, and it has a lot of art and memories…” I’m stalling because I hadn’t considered us moving in together, especially not recently.
“So let’s make my place filled to the brim with artwork. Let’s curate a gallery here.” He kisses my nose. “And we will make more memories - together - starting right now.” He hoists my legs up then, linking them around his waist, and he turns me so I’m on the edge of the counter.
“Let me think about it?” I ask, rubbing my hands over his chest.
“Of course,” he says, then plunges his hands into my hair, pulling my head to the side. I groan softly, loving the exposure and the feel of his hands on my body as they travel down my front. He is wrapped in a towel, but I already see and feel his erection growing.
“Here?” I ask. “Your bed is like five steps away.”
“Yes,” he growls, now placing his thumb on my opening, which is growing hotter and wetter by the second. Despite the layer of the leggings, my body instantly responds to him.
“Yes,” I sigh and let him lift me from the counter to ease off my leggings. “Be careful,” I whisper, worrying again about his thigh.
“You just worry about how we’re going to tell your sister you’re moving in with me,” he says, smirking, then continuing his assault on my clit. He goes in soft circles, simultaneously delving his tongue into my mouth, up my neck, near my ear. Kissing, licking, touching. It’s all so much and so wonderful. And I already know there’s no way I’m saying ‘no’ to this man about anything.
I grab his towel from his waist and yank hard, watching it catch on his jutting dick before it drops to the floor.
“May I?” I ask then, inching myself off the counter and twisting in his arms.
He grunts in response as I bend over the counter and look to see him staring back at me in the reflection. He’s behind me, rubbing his dick back and forth near my entrance, transfixed both on the sight of that and my eyes being locked on him.
“I’ll move in with you,” I say, reaching between my legs and grabbing his hard length, “but only if you promise never to stop fucking me.” Then I wiggle my ass and swipe the head of his penis around my wet entrance.
His eyes are dark and full of lust, and he can’t decide where to look. He watches me spin around and around, and then I see him lose control.
“Never,” he growls, then plunges inside me. He’s so forceful I’m slammed into the counter, and I reach up to the mirror to keep from crashing head-first into it. It’s hard, fast, and intense, and we’re both on the edge in a few thrusts.
“Touch yourself,” he says, and I do, reaching down to vigorously thrum my clit while he pounds from behind. I feel his dick throbbing, and somehow knowing he is close makes me even hotter.
“I’m gonna come,” I whimper, speeding up my hand’s pace and pushing back into him. He slams into me once, twice, and then we’re both speeding over the edge, shouting in the bathroom so it echoes all around us.
“Fuck, I love you,” he says, pulling himself out but still leaning on top of me from behind.
“I love you,” I say. And it’s true. I fucking love him.
He grabs his towel and wipes us up, then pulls on his sweatpants and helps me shimmy back into my leggings.
“Couch?” he asks. “You know it,” I smile. “I’ll get snacks.” I meander into the kitchen, grabbing our usual crackers, nuts, and cheese. I pause, eyeing the white wine in the fridge and feeling guilty. Should I not drink in front of him?
“Pour yourself the wine,” he says, watching me from the kitchen entrance. “Soda water for me.”
I smile because, of course, he knows what I’m thinking. We settle into the couch and spend a few minutes talking about the guys coming later.
“So,” he says then, “I want to tell you before they show up…” He’s a little nervous now, so I start to worry.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“The guy who took me last night told me something. He said that Sasha...” he pauses.
“Sasha?” I ask. “What about her?”
“She’s my sister. Eric Lockhart was her father, too.”
“Okay,” I say. “How does that make you feel?” Then something pings in my head. “Wait, she worked for you, right? Nothing happened between you two, I hope?”
“Oh god, no,” he says, looking relieved. “But I’ve not always thought of her in the highest regard, so I feel like shit about that.”
“You didn’t know Xavier,” I say, trying to reassure him. “How could you have known?”
“Yeah I know,” he says. “But now that I know we’re related, and how fucking psycho that guy last night was…” he turns away then, pensive. “We have to help her, Corrine.”
I nod, not sure what that will look like. “We will, don’t worry.” Then I kiss him, not a passionate kiss, but a loving one, and settle next to him to watch Friends before the crew arrives.