Chapter 27
Cassidy
Xavier studied me with his incredible blue eyes. "You okay?"
"No." I laughed, short and ragged. "Yeah. I don't know. Ask me again in a week."
He was quiet for a moment.
"What happens now?" I asked.
"I was going to ask the same question," he said.
"Did you mean what you said about not returning to Manhattan?"
He looked me right in the eye. "Absolutely. I hated my life there."
"Xavier—"
"I'm serious, Cass." His voice was quiet, but there was iron in it.
"New York isn't my life. It's a life my mother and Dominic forced onto me.
" He leaned forward, one elbow on the table.
"I've spent the last decade in boardrooms and penthouse apartments, and I've been so bloody miserable I didn't even realize it until I came here and felt what it's like to actually breathe. "
I didn't say anything.
"You know why I climb mountains?" he said.
I frowned, thrown off by the change in subject. "Because you like the view?"
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Because up there, nothing's expected of me.
There's no Dominic, no Pamela, no Hawthorne name to live up to.
There's just the mountain, my determination, and whether or not I'm capable enough to keep going.
" He paused, maybe searching for the right words.
"The last time I climbed, I was in a section that was deadly. "
"Isn't all of it deadly?"
"True, but I was on this ridge where one wrong step would’ve been the end. I remember standing there. It was a glorious, clear night. The stars were so bright I could see the peak, and on that ledge I looked down, and I realized ..." He met my eyes. "I didn't care if my life ended right there."
The air went out of the room.
"Jesus. Xavier."
"I'm not telling you this to upset you." His voice was steady, matter-of-fact, like he'd spent a long time analyzing that moment.
"I'm telling you because I want you to understand.
Finding out Dominic wasn't my father was one of the best things that ever happened to me.
Finding out I might have brothers is just as incredible.
" He leaned closer. "But finding you, Cass, you have no idea how much you've opened my eyes. "
My throat was tight. I didn't trust myself to speak.
"I'm never returning to my old life," he said. "No matter what happens out here."
"You haven't even seen a full season yet," I said. "Summer heat will make you question your life choices. The flies alone?—"
"I'll manage the flies. And the heat."
"The land is brutal. There's nothing glamorous about it."
"Trust me, I don't want glamorous. I want real."
"You'd have to learn things. From scratch. From me, probably, which will be humbling for a man like you."
The corner of his mouth curved. "A man like me?"
"An Ivy League rich dude who didn't know what baked beans for dinner were like."
He threw back his head and laughed—really, truly laughed—and it was the most incredible sound. Mesmerizing. I wanted to hear him laugh like that forever.
He cupped my cheek. "Then you can teach me everything."
His words held so much weight that I had to look away. I stared at the old grandfather clock in the corner, the one with a pendulum that hadn't moved since Mom had vanished.
"Cass."
I looked back at him. He was close enough that I could see how long his lower lashes were, the tiredness carved around his eyes, and the absolute certainty in his expression.
He held out his hand. "Will you teach me everything?"
I looked at his palm for a moment, then gripped it tightly. "I don't know about everything, but I have something I can teach you right now."
My heart thundered in my chest as I led him through the homestead to my bedroom at the far end, away from everyone else. I'd claimed this room when I was seventeen and had never given it up.
I closed the door behind us.
The ceiling fan turned slowly overhead, and through the window, the Outback sky blazed with stars.
Xavier stood in the middle of the room, looking at me in the low starlight. I thought of our kiss in the outstation, wedged together on that canvas bunk, the heat of it, and then the tortured guilt when he'd pushed me away.
There was no uncertainty in him now.
"What did you want to teach me?" he asked, smiling and frowning at the same time.
"How to make me come."
"Oh." His face lit up. "I think I could def?—"
I crossed the room, gripped the front of his shirt, and kissed him.
His hands cupped my face, and he kissed me slowly. Not hungry like before. Deliberately, like he had all the time in the world and intended to use every second of it.
I did, too. My usual sex was quick, anonymous, and meaningless—a bloke in the dark, who I’d want to forget by morning.
This was different. I wanted to memorize everything about Xavier. The way his breath caught when I touched him. The incredible muscle definition in his chest and stomach. The exact shade of blue his eyes turned when he truly looked at me.
His hands slid from my face to my hair, to my shoulders, and he walked me slowly backward until my knees hit the bed. He pulled away and looked at me, his chest rising and falling.
"You sure?" he asked.
I reached for the hem of my tank top and pulled it over my head. "I'm absolutely sure. Now shut up and get your gear off. I want to see the rest of you."
"Even my hairless chest?"
I giggled. "Yes, even that."
As he undid the buttons on his shirt, I unhooked my bra and let it fall. His eyes dropped to my breasts, and finally, his composure started to crack.
"Christ, Cass." His voice had gone rough.
He peeled off his shirt, and I took in the lean lines of his torso. He had the body of a climber. Fit. Strong. Beautiful in a way that made my chest ache. My fingers itched to trace every line, to learn the geography of him the way I knew every fenceline and waterhole on Koolaroo.
"Come here," I said.
He closed the distance between us and pressed his hands to my waist, crushing his lips to mine. This kiss was different from our first kiss—deeper, more urgent. His hands slid up my sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts, and I gasped against his mouth.
"Tell me what you want," he murmured against my lips.
"You. Your hands on me. Your mouth on me."
The words felt different when I said them to him. Not a script I'd rehearsed with strangers. This was real. This was wanting someone not just for the release but for the connection. For the way he looked at me like I was something precious.
He moaned like my words detonated something inside him. He squeezed my breasts, and I arched into him as his thumbs circled my nipples. Pleasure sizzled through me, and I leaned into him, wanting more, wanting everything.
He lowered his head and took one nipple into his mouth, and my knees nearly buckled.
His tongue circled and teased while his hand worked the other breast, and I curled my fingers around his neck, holding him to me.
I wanted to remember this—the heat of his tongue, the way my body responded to him like I’d never been with anyone else.
"You like that?" he asked.
"Yes. God, yes."
He guided me onto the bed, following me down. His mouth never left my skin as he kissed his way across my ribs to my stomach. Each kiss felt intentional, like he was claiming every inch of me.
His fingers found the button of my jeans. "Can I?"
"Take my damn jeans off, Xavier."
"Man, you're bossy." He undid the button and zipper, then torturously peeled my jeans down my legs.
I wanted to throttle him as his hands skimmed back up my calves and thighs.
Every touch was real, exploratory, incredible, and my heart hammered.
When his fingers hooked into my underwear, he looked up at me.
"Still sure?"
"If you ask me that one more time?—"
He grinned and pulled my underwear off in one smooth motion. When he nudged my legs apart, settling between my thighs, his warm hands pushing them wider, I realized what he was about to do.
My breath caught. I'd never let anyone do this before. Never let myself be this exposed, this vulnerable. I'd always held back, always kept some part of myself locked away where no one could touch me.
But with Xavier, I didn't want to hold back. I wanted to let go completely.
I closed my eyes, and then his mouth was on me, and every coherent thought left my brain entirely.
His tongue was hot and wet, sending shivers down my spine.
Gasping, I drove my fingers through his short hair.
The sensations were intense and building, taking me closer and closer to that glorious edge.
But it wasn't just physical this time. This was emotional.
Overwhelming. Like he was unraveling every defense I'd ever built.
"Xavier," I breathed, my voice barely audible.
He didn't stop. Didn't slow down. Just kept going.
His tongue traced patterns that made my hips move involuntarily, and when I tried to pull away from the intensity, his hands tightened on my thighs, holding me in place.
His tongue and lips worked in perfect sync, and I realized he was paying attention.
Learning me. Not just going through the motions but actually trying to understand what I needed.
God, when was the last time anyone had cared what I needed?
I was on the brink, my body trembling, and then the wave crashed over me all at once. I cried out, my back arching off the bed as the orgasm overtook me. This wasn’t just pleasure. This went much deeper. This was release, connection, and home all at once.
Xavier didn't stop until I'd ridden out the aftershocks. When the tremors finally subsided, when my breathing began to slow, and my grip on his hair loosened, he pressed one last soft kiss against my inner thigh before pulling back. His face was flushed, his lips swollen, and his eyes gleamed. He’d enjoyed that as much as I had.
"That was ... wow," I said, my voice high-pitched and breathless—wrong and right all at once.
"Thanks. Told you I knew?—"
"Shut up." I gripped under his arms and pulled him up to me, our lips meeting in a fierce kiss. I could taste myself on his mouth, and instead of feeling exposed, I felt wanted. Needed. His.
As our tongues explored, his erection pressed hard against my thigh. I reached down.
“Get your pants off,” I demanded.
“Right.” He jumped up and whipped his pants off so fast it was a wonder he didn’t fall over. I only just got a glimpse of his incredible body before he climbed onto the bed again. “Now, where were we?”
I wrapped my hand around him, feeling his length, the velvety heat of him, the way he pulsed against my palm. "It’s your turn," I whispered against his lips.
He groaned, his hips rolling into my hand. "Cass, I want to take my time with you."
"Shh. We'll do that next time." I climbed on top of him, guided him to my entrance, and paused there for just a heartbeat. I leaned forward, pressing my forehead to his, our breath mingling. Then I lowered down, and he glided into me with one smooth, deliberate thrust.
I gasped at the fullness, at how perfectly he fit, like my body had been waiting for exactly this. For him.
The world around us melted away, leaving only the two of us and the slow, building rhythm we created together. He flipped us over, and his hands slid down to grip my hips as we found our pace, not rushed, not frantic, but deliberate. Intentional.
This wasn't anonymous. This wasn't forgettable. This was Xavier. The man who'd climbed mountains looking for meaning, who'd stood on deadly ridges not caring if he fell, who'd found his way to Koolaroo and somehow found me.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groaned my name like it hurt to say it.
I wanted to memorize everything—his weight pressing me into the mattress, the stretch and fullness that made me feel claimed, the way he looked at me with those crystal-blue eyes like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
"Cass," he breathed, and the way he said my name made my body tingle.
The pleasure built between us, coiling tighter with every movement. Our rhythm grew more urgent, more necessary as I climbed toward that glorious edge again, but this time with him. Together.
"Xavier, I'm—" I couldn't finish the sentence.
"I know. Me, too. God, Cass?—"
We crashed over the edge in unison, pleasure detonating through me as he shuddered inside me.
“Oh, Xavier,” I said his name like a whisper, and as I looked into his eyes, I saw desire. No, more than that. I saw belonging, like I'd finally found where I was supposed to be.
Afterward, we lay wrapped in each other's arms, and the only sound was our ragged breathing and the steady beat of his heart against my ear. I ran my finger in lazy circles on his chest, feeling the tiny ridges around his nipples.
For the first time in my life, I didn't want morning to arrive. I didn't want this moment to end.
Outside, the Outback settled around us, vast and ancient and entirely, completely home.
I traced the line of his jaw, memorizing it. No, claiming it. Like I could keep this moment forever if I just touched him enough.
He rolled to face me, propping himself up on one elbow. "I built a fortune back in Manhattan. But it was all meaningless and stupid. Not a single dollar meant anything. This is more valuable than anything.”
“After sex cuddles?” I asked, trying not to smile.
“Yes, with you.” He pushed a strand of hair back from my face. "You make me feel alive," he murmured, his voice low and husky.
My heart swelled to bursting as I pressed my lips to his shoulder. "Good, because the night is still very young, and there’s so much more you need to learn."