by Nana Malone
His brows popped up. "I was under the impression you’d only met that day of the shoot."
“We were trying to keep things quiet.” Technically true. "It's been sort of a whirlwind. So you see, there’s no chance of cozy publicity shots with Ryan. But I want to maintain the integrity of the show, regardless."
"It's an odd request, but if I can accommodate Ryan’s private dressing room, I can do this for you. We'll have a PA on hand who can even live tweet rehearsals or whatever. Keep the social media interest up."
I breathed a small sigh of relief, even though it wasn’t exactly what I'd been looking for. I should have anticipated that Ryan would try to hamstring me from ever telling anybody, but I knew what he'd done to me. I might have to work with him for the sake of my future, but I was walking in with my eyes wide open, knowing the devil I was working with. There would be no cozy rehearsals with just the two of us. And I was packing pepper spray for sure. It didn't matter what I had to do, I was never going to be that naive girl again, the one who trusted so blindly. Nor was I going to roll over and play dead.
This was my show, my chance to shine. I was not going to be afraid. Not of that asshole. I was stronger than he was. I had to be.
“Thank you, Charles. I appreciate it."
The door to the hall opened, and I could see the figure backlit in the doorway. My stomach rolled and I swallowed hard. Breathe, Imani. You can do anything. You can survive anything. It was time to go to work.
Chapter Sixteen
Xander
I hitched my camera bag over my shoulder. “I’m telling you she’s deliberately trying to drive me crazy.” Even though the two of us had settled into a routine over the last four days, it was hardly comfortable. I certainly wasn’t getting much sleep. I’d called Lex for support, but somehow my brother was not backing me up.
“Xan, I doubt that. I mean, what’s she doing?” Lex asked.
“For starters, she’s employing some kind of female guerrilla warfare tactics because the whole place smells like her. Everywhere I go, it’s coconut and hibiscus.” It was so bad I was in a state of permanent erection with her around.
“Nefarious. She should be drawn and quartered.” Lex was no help.
“I see you don’t understand my pain. I’m telling you she’s trying to drive me slowly mad and you make jokes. You’re not there, you don’t see the bras she leaves hanging on the drying rack in the washroom. The way she walks around half dressed in shorts so tiny she might as well only be wearing panties.” The bras were the worst, because every time I went in there to wash my workout gear, all I could think about were her C-cups.
One more thing I’d learned about her was that she hated for anyone to do anything for her. She insisted on washing her own laundry instead of letting the laundry service handle it. When I left dishes in the sink, knowing that housekeeping would handle it, she went ahead and washed them. When I complained, she rolled her eyes and told me it was a simple thing to do on her own. She didn’t need help for that. Even something so simple as grocery bags. She insisted on carrying her fair share.
Lex’s booming laugh rang clear on the phone. “Have you tried asking her to wear more clothing when she’s walking around?”
Why would I do that? “What, are you insane? I’m not a fool. I’m just saying she’s doing it deliberately. But I can certainly enjoy the view.”
“Here’s a thought. You could try scratching the itch. You’ll certainly be more relaxed that way.”
Hell yes. “With her? Not going to happen. I need to stay focused.“
Lex merely laughed. “If you say so. Speaking of focus, any word from LeClerc?”
“Not yet, but I should hear something soon.“
“Okay, I’ve made the final stock purchases, so I’m just waiting on your signal.”
“Cheers to that.” I leaned against the elevator door as I rode to the penthouse. I wondered if she’d be home already, sitting around in her shorts again showing off her lean legs and perfect behind. Rehearsals hadn’t officially started, but she’d gone in several times for wardrobe measurements. And each time she’d taken the car without too much complaint.
“Either way, this will all be over soon. And then maybe you can focus on you for a change,” Lex reminded me.
“Yeah, focus on me. Whatever that means.” The elevator bell dinged on the top floor, and the doors slid open. The lights in the living room and kitchen were on, but there was no sign of her. “Oh, honey, I’m home.” I snickered as I dropped my camera bag on the coffee table next to her script. I might complain to Lex, but I kind of liked the noise she brought to my environment. She was tidy, but she did have the tendency to spread. A script here, a book there. The laundry detergent in the washroom. Her scent… everywhere.
“Lex, I’m hopping off.”
“Yeah, you do that. And do try to play nice with your houseguest.”
Easier said than done.
Imani
There was no way I would get used to sleeping in the total silence of Xander's flat. His sound-proofed windows completely canceled any street noise, and it was too eerie. I also didn't want to waste electricity by sleeping with the television on. It wasn't my place, so I was trying to be a good guest. Unfortunately, it meant I couldn't sleep.
Standing on tiptoe, I opened the cupboard looking for the hot cocoa. Was it this one? Maybe the one over the stove. I should have paid closer attention when he was showing me around. And I certainly wasn’t going to go and wake him up to ask.
When I finally found the damn cocoa, it was on the topmost shelf. "Fantastic."
I groaned as I tried to inch it off the shelf with the tips of my fingers.
“Here, let me get that."
Xander’s low voice directly behind me startled me, and I jumped back into his chest, sending the cocoa tipping over—spilling it over the both of us and the counter.
"Shit. Sorry." Exasperated, I shook my head. "I'm so sorry. I was totally trying not to wake you, and now I've made a fucking mess."
He dusted cocoa out of his hair. "Relax. It's okay."
"I was really trying not to wake you up. I swear."
"It's fine, Imani. Believe me, I wasn't asleep." He gestured upward. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have startled you."
Except it wasn't fine. I was wide awake. And he was standing right in front of me, practically pressing that gorgeous, shirtless body into me. Without thinking, I reached out and dusted some of the cocoa off his pecs. It should be criminal for the man to ever put on a shirt. It took me several seconds to realize I was brushing my fingertips over his flesh and that he hadn’t moved a muscle.
Stop touching him. Stop. Fingers off. Hands down. My brain gave the command, but it was like the signal was blocked.
He licked his bottom lip, and my world went into slow motion. Underneath my fingertips, I could feel his heartbeat thudding in time with mine. I didn't think anything could match the thundering heartbeat in my chest.
“Imani.” He whispered my name and toyed with a coil of my hair. “You have cocoa in your hair.”
In that breath of silence, I knew he was going to kiss me. And I had no idea how I felt about it. I wanted his body pressed into mine. Wanted that wild need that he sparked in me every time he was around me. Wanted to feel that free-fall he’d sparked that first night again.
But it didn't matter how I felt in the moment. If I went there with him, I’d be changed forever. I’d had sex since that awful night two years ago. Decent sex. Nothing earth-shattering, but nice all the same. Even managed to have a couple of orgasms. But mostly, I just wondered what all the fuss was about.
After what had happened with Ryan, I’d gone to talk to someone. It was the one right thing I’d done. The one thing I’d clung to in the complete chaos that followed. It had helped. Enough so that I recognized that sleeping with Xander would be different.
I was self-aware enough to know if I actually slept with Xander it would break something inside of me. I woul
dn’t recover. Something inside me would bond to him, and ‘decent sex’ would never do for me again.
I cleared my throat. “I’m just going to go back to bed.”
“I should let you.”
He should. But he didn't move out of the way. And my body didn’t want that. The heat pooling between my thighs and the throbbing need inside me rooted me to the spot. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted his hands on my body. I wanted him to make love to me. Wanted him to make me come, to teach me how to break free. I craved that elusive feeling only he could pull from me, and I wanted to experience that again. Even if it wasn’t real. Even if it didn't last.
“Imani, you’re not going.”
“You haven’t let me out.” I didn’t want to be let out.
He shook his head. “I don’t think I can.” He sucked in a deep breath then cupped my cheek. “I’m going to break my promise.”
Yes, please. “Okay,” I whispered.
Xander
I inhaled deeply before pressing my lips to hers. When I teased my tongue between her lips, she sighed as I licked into her mouth, stroking deep, turning up the temperature. I was so fucked.
She was very quickly becoming an addiction. With every taste I was falling further and further into the abyss. I’d heard her rustling out here, trying to be quiet, and I knew she couldn’t sleep either.
Taking over the kiss, I angled her head so I could slide my tongue in deeper, tasting her more fully. Her lips were so soft. So perfect. I could kiss her for hours and never get bored. When she made this happy purring sound in the back of her throat, my blood hummed.
As I kissed her, I pressed my body into hers, needing to be in contact with as much of her as possible. I wanted to bury my cock deep inside her tight walls. For over a week, every night, all I’d dreamed about was pulling orgasm after orgasm out of her.
Muffling a curse, I lifted her and sat her on the countertop, stepping between her legs. A charge of electricity ran through me the moment my pajama-clad cock came into contact with her sweet center. All that separated us was the cotton of her shorts and my pajama bottoms.
She lifted her hips, bringing her core closer to me and I groaned, not daring to stop. This was what I wanted. This was what I needed. I needed her. And it scared the shit out of me. But I didn’t dare stop. Couldn’t stop.
When Imani rolled her hips into mine, my hips jerked. She was so responsive. I snuck my hands under her tank top, and she sucked in a shuddering breath.
God, she was so bloody soft. Over the last week, it was easy to imagine that I’d fabricated how soft she was, but I hadn’t.
My thumbs skimmed up her ribcage, and I could feel her holding her breath as I traversed each of her ribs. When I reached the underside of her breasts, a shudder rolled through her body.
I wanted her to need me as much as I needed her. Gently, I palmed her breasts. Her breathing shallowed, and she threw her head back. “Xander.”
Jesus, fuck. Her breasts spilled out of my palms as I nuzzled her neck, seeking out my favorite spot, just behind her ear. Her thready pulse jumped under my lips and I wanted to make her feel like this forever. I inhaled deeply before tracing my thumbs over her nipples. Groaning low, Imani locked her legs around my waist and cried out.
The words slid off my tongue in a whisper. “Angel, you are so goddamned beautiful.” Her scent completely intoxicated me, making me shake. “I can’t get you out of my head.”
When she dug her hands into my hair, I growled against her throat. The devil on my shoulder pushed me to take. Take her. Have her. Forget her. But I knew I wouldn’t be forgetting this girl. Not if I touched her again.
Slowly, I drew back and struggled to get my breathing under control. “Go to bed, Imani.” It hurt, but I let go of her and stepped back.
She blinked up at me, confused, dropping her hands. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m not the bloke you take out for kicks, Imani. I’ve been a bad boy.” I scrubbed both hands down my face.
She hopped off the counter and readjusted her clothes. “For the record, I’m not looking for kicks. You kissed me. Stop dicking with me if you don’t have the balls to do anything about it.”
“I’m not dicking with you. You just don't know what you’re dealing with.”
“And God forbid you treat me like an adult and tell me instead of being so guarded.” When she brushed past me, I didn't follow.
Chapter Seventeen
Xander
I was in the doghouse and I knew it. And I also knew Imani was right for putting me there. After that kiss, it was plain to me that I was cracking. We’d been back for just over a week, but I needed out of the house pronto. She would be home soon from rehearsal, and I couldn’t spend another night cooped up with her in the house. If I did, there was no way I was stopping at just kissing. I would fuck her on every single flat surface of this place.
But worse than the complete nutter routine I played out with that kiss was the fact that I didn’t know why I'd done it. Yes, you do. You want to know if that night was a fluke. But you also like her. Fluke or not, it didn’t matter. It's not like I wanted to be with her. Liar. I wanted her, yes. She was the first woman I'd had an orgasm with in years. Yes. But I didn't want to be with anyone. Let alone a girl who sang show tunes in the shower, who cleaned to de-stress, and who could recite every single line from Sex and the City ever written, verbatim.
I rubbed at my temple and tried to focus on the images on my laptop. I was supposed to be sorting the best candidates from the RADA shoot, but of course it meant doing nothing but thinking about Imani as she was staring at me with those haunting hazel eyes.
I slid my gaze to the clock. Seven p.m. She'd be home soon. Git. I was waiting for her like a nervous father. Sitting back, I rubbed at my eyes. I had problems, real problems that weren’t going to go away, but instead of focusing on solutions, I was thinking of ways I could complicate my life. Too late for that.
One picture in particular caught my attention. It was a cast shot with Imani and Ryan at the forefront. Everyone was laughing and smiling, including Imani, but she was the only one where the humor didn't reach her eyes. Ryan had his arm wrapped around her. At first glance, it looked like all the others. But when I looked closer, I could tell she was pulling away from him. Like she actively wanted to be as far away from him as possible.
I’d been giving her shit about Ryan being her boyfriend, and she hadn't corrected me. Had I read what I’d seen in the courtyard the wrong way? I forced my mind to remember what exactly I’d seen that day. Ryan had his hands on her upper arms, and her head was tilted up toward him. I had assumed for a kiss. But maybe I’d been wrong about that. At the time, I’d been livid with irrational thoughts that Imani was Ryan’s.
With some clarity of distance, I recalled the way she’d flinched when I’d said “boyfriend.” I assumed she was worried about me saying something about Notting Hill. But with the number of times I’d mentioned Ryan since then, why hadn't she said more? Yeah, she’d said he wasn’t her boyfriend, but she hadn't said anything about actively disliking him.
But my gut told me it was more than that. Something deeper. The first thought that ran through my head was to talk to her about it. None of your business. Yeah, she probably wouldn’t appreciate that.
If I could just get away from Imani for a night. Stop obsessing about the way her tits fit in my hands or the way she sucked on my tongue. Or my favorite torturous, memory of how her wet cunt pulled at my fingers.
Jesus fucking Christ. I was going out. I’d go to the club with Lex and the boys. Work off a little steam. Everything would be fine. I just had to hang on a little longer… and not bend her over the armrest of the couch in the process.
Just as I picked up the phone to call my brother, Imani opened the door. Her eyes were red, and her face was devoid of makeup. It wasn’t unusual for her to take the natural route on her face. The only reason I even noticed was because she'd been wearing makeup when she left.
"All right?"
She nodded. "Yeah, just a tough rehearsal."
"You look like you've been crying."
She shrugged and plopped onto the couch. "That's because I have been. I talked to Ebony today too. Dad’s in a mood. Then it was a tough set of scenes today that involved a lot of work with Ryan. So all in all, it was a shit day."
I tried to tread carefully. "I was actually going through your pictures today."
"Oh yeah? Anything usable? I'm usually horrid in photos. I feel awkward and usually make some insane face."
"I don't know about that, you looked great to me."
"That's because you’re some kind of photography savant or something and managed to make me look good in a picture."
"Probably," I said with a smile and a smirk. But she barely cracked a smile, so I continued. "Look. I know I fucked up last night. You're right, I was a total prat, and I want to apologize." I deliberately didn’t apologize for the kiss. I wasn’t sorry at all.
Her brows shot up. "Really? I didn’t think Xander Chase did apologies."
It might only have been a few days, but she knew me well. I didn’t normally do them. At least not before meeting her. "Yeah. Well, you deserve one."
Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something, but then she shut it again. “Uh, thanks. That means a lot.”
Nodding, I pressed forward. "Listen, I'm going on my gut here, but is there something going on with Ryan?"
She pushed to her feet. "I’ve told you a million times. No. He’s not my fucking boyfriend, okay? I really wish you would stop jibing at me with that."
"Not like that." I sighed. Life was infinitely easier when I didn’t give a fuck about someone else's feelings. "In one of the pictures, you just looked like you didn’t want him touching you. Like you were really distressed by it." When her eyes misted over, I shifted in my seat. Was holding permissible?
