by Roxy Sloane
"Not yet, gorgeous. I'll give that pussy what it wants soon enough."
He unzips my shorts and quickly pulls them off. The contrast of the cool air against my hot skin gets me even wetter with anticipation and I groan as he brushes his thumb over the fabric of my panties, teasing me mercilessly.
"You like that?" he whispers.
I push against his hand in response. He runs his thumb in circles, and my breathing speeds up again. I writhe against his hand, hoping he'll put a finger inside me. I need to feel him there, hard and deep and in control, even if it is a finger and not his cock. He holds my pussy in his hand, gripping me firmly.
"Please,” I murmur. “Please. Fuck me."
Xavier grips my pussy tighter, using the heel of his hand to put pressure on my clit as his fingers lightly graze my ass. The feeling is delicious, intense yet teasing, making me hot for more. He keeps up the pressure, and I grind into his hand. I didn’t realize how badly I needed this. Needed him.
He is looking at me as he holds me, watching how every move of his hand brings me closer.
I try to pull him toward me, fumbling for the belt of the robe, reaching for his hard, jutting cock, but he pushes my hand away. "Today's about you, Nicole."
Just the lust in his voice is enough to send me to the edge of exploding. He pulls my panties to the side and lets the air hit my swollen lips full on, and I can't hold back. I gasp as he takes two fingers and shoves them into me as I'm trembling. I'm so wet that there's no protest, only need, and a moan escapes out of his lips at the same time as mine.
"God, you are so wet."
My pussy clamps around his fingers in response, and I feel my insides quivering. His palm brushes my clit, and the feeling is so intense I instantly go lightheaded.
He pushes his fingers in and out, banging me like he's using his cock. And it's so good that I am delirious. I'm whimpering and moaning with every thrust, sucking on his other hand, his fingers fucking my mouth as well. I want every bit of him that I can take.
He continues to slam into me over and over, and the pressure is so sweet that I can't think anymore. I'm floating away on my own island, with no one around to hear me as I come harder than I ever have, my body shaking with pleasure and desire as I let go of every single thing that’s been hurting me and holding me back for so long. Xavier doesn't stop, even when I think I can't take it anymore. I end up crashing into another orgasm as he circles his fingers inside me and pushes against my sweet spot. I try to reach for him again, but he won’t let me touch him.
I don't think I have anything left. But he pulls his fingers out and sucks them off, watching me to see my reaction. I’m filled with lust.
“I can’t wait to taste more of you, Nicole,” he whispers into my ear.
He holds out his hand to help me off the table and slowly starts putting me back together, clasping my bra and buttoning up my shirt. While I do the best I can with my hair, he picks my shorts up off the floor and holds them for me to step into.
When I'm dressed, he brushes a hand along the side of my face. "Have dinner with me. Tonight."
"What?" My brain is still moving slowly after that epic orgasm.
He must read my mind, because he responds, "Dinner. You. Me. Tonight. I need to see you. Saying no is not an option. I'll have a car pick you up, just give me the address."
I give it to him as I'm walking to the door, unsure of what just happened. At the door, he gives me a long, tender kiss.
"Until tonight."
Chapter Six
Carmen sends me home early. It's not like there's much to do anyway. And I'm certainly not the most attentive employee after my extended lunch date, which she is tactful enough not to comment on. Then again, maybe no comment is needed. Either way I’m glad to clock out before the other girls catch the scent of good gossip that must be practically radiating off of me and my dazed but satisfied expression.
Hours later, I'm still not recovered from my time with Xavier. Every time I think about what happened, my body flushes with excitement at the thought of seeing him and I have to cool myself down. How all of that happened is a mystery to me. It felt like being under someone else's control in a way. Like I couldn't stop the inevitable, even if I wanted to.
But I don’t. And all my protests are weak ones. He's a hotel guest, but so what? And yes I need to focus on finding out what happened to Eli, but does that mean I have to spend all my time on that? Push everyone away? I need to have a life, too. I’ve avoided social interaction for long enough, and physical pleasure has been the last thing on my mind for far too long.
But now that it's almost time for the car to pick me up for our dinner date, butterflies are fluttering in my stomach. Today was pretty mind-blowing. How am I supposed to just sit across from him and pretend like nothing happened? Flirt and smile and talk about our lives? I'm not sure I can do that without blushing every time he looks at me.
I carefully apply liner and shadow around my eyes and slick on another coat of mascara. Then I pull out my secret weapon- a lipstick that accentuates my lips perfectly without looking overdone. Every time I wear it, I get comments about having the perfectly kissable lips. Exactly what I want Xavier to be thinking about tonight.
I can still feel his lips on mine when I close my eyes. My skin still tingles from his touch…other places too. I'm like a junkie trying to convince herself she doesn't need that fix while she's dreaming about how good it feels.
The door buzzes, and I peek out the window. A sleek, black Towne Car sits in front of the building. Xavier does it well.
After a short drive spent trying to calm my nerves, the driver pulls up next to the water. Biscayne Bay sparkles in the moonlight. The slight breeze does much to cool my overheated skin. Just thinking about seeing Xavier in mere seconds has my temperature rising.
As I exit the car, I do a quick check. I adjust my dress, a fitted black sheath I found in a vintage store. I smooth my hair in back to make sure the Miami humidity hasn't ruined it. A quick glance at my heels to make sure they aren't scuffed, and I'm ready.
When I step into the restaurant, I can tell why Xavier chose it. Everything about it oozes class, from the Chihuly glass chandelier in the dining room to the elegant place settings on the tables.
The maitre d' guides me to a table for two set a bit apart from the others, tucked into a corner that looks out over the ocean. A perfect white orchid joins a small candle on the table. Next to the table sits an ice bucket stand, with a bottle of real French champagne chilling inside.
A server holds my chair out for me while I sit down and drapes my napkin across my lap. I notice with appreciation that they've changed the white linen tablecloth and napkins to black so I won't get lint all over my dress.
I barely have time to look around before Xavier walks into the room. As he moves through the space, he recognizes people and waves or says hello if they're close enough. He makes comments to a couple of staff members, which makes me wonder if he owns the place. He hasn't locked eyes with me yet, so I have plenty of opportunity to openly stare. He's gorgeous in a tailored gray suit that almost looks silver. Underneath is a cornflower blue button down with the first two buttons undone. I have an urge to undo the rest of those buttons. I wonder how I’ll make it through dinner.
He notices me, and a smile spreads across his face. He fixes his gaze on me the rest of the way to the table. I stand as he approaches, and he puts his hands on my waist.
"You look beautiful, Nicole. Thank you for joining me tonight." He leans over and gives me a lingering kiss just to the side of my mouth. As he pulls away, I'm tempted to grab his face in my hands and pull him back in for a real kiss. But I don't.
"Thank you for inviting me. I have to say, I'm obviously dining with the most handsome man here, but also apparently the one who’s most in charge?"
Xavier laughs. "I guess I forgot to tell you this is my restaurant."
“That you did,” I smile.
#
It's
hard at first to relax and enjoy myself, but eventually I let go of everything and focus on Xavier and the champagne. After the waiter pours our glasses, Xavier raises his in a toast.
"To new friends." He grins and reaches across the table for my hand. As I repeat his words, we clink glasses and he runs his fingers along my wrist. I'm sure he can feel my pulse quickening at his touch.
To get my mind off the other things I'd like for him to be doing with his fingers, I clear my throat and move the conversation to a safe topic. Business.
"So earlier you said you started with nothing and worked your way up, but I still don’t really know what you do. Tell me about it. I want to hear your story."
“You sure? It’s a pretty boring,” Xavier says, but the bashful grin spreading across his face tells me he’s proud of his work.
“You’re never boring,” I smile.
Xavier takes a sip of his champagne and leans back in his chair slightly.
"Well, my father wasn’t around much when I was a kid. He worked his hands to the bone but when he was home, all he could do was yell at my mom and worry where his next job was coming from and how we’d pay the bills. I knew I didn’t want to end up like that, always struggling to get by and with nothing to show for it.” He shrugs and takes another drink.
My heart goes out to Xavier as he tries to downplay his tough childhood. He could have easily gone down all the wrong paths but instead he fought his way out and didn’t stop until he’d made it to the top.
He goes on, “So as soon as my parents let me, I started doing odd jobs in the neighborhood. I kept half of what I earned and gave the rest to my mom."
"You built your fortune on a paper route then?" I ask, trying to lighten the mood.
He throws his head back and laughs deeply. It's sexy as hell.
"Not exactly. But I did learn about saving and investing early. People knew I was reliable and worked hard, so they gave me more responsibility and more referrals.”
I smile at the thought of young Xavier bringing groceries to old women and sweating out his summers doing handyman work, pushing his way relentlessly toward a better life.
“So how’d you go from neighborhood errand boy to being a big fancy businessman?” I ask. My voice is teasing, but he has that faraway look in his eyes, the same one I saw by the pool earlier, and I realize my words must be dredging up old memories, not all of them pleasant ones.
Xavier seems to shake himself out of it and leans closer as he speaks. “I established myself, made connections, the usual laying of groundwork. Before I was eighteen, I was assisting the manager at an import company. Inside of four months I was doing the job better than he was.”
“I bet you learned a lot,” I say, recalling my own first job, cashiering and stocking shelves at a discount store – probably with those same goods Xavier was importing.
“I did,” he says, his eyes burning into mine. I look away, blushing at his intensity.
It’s hard not to feel intimidated by this man. When I was seventeen I was giggling with Hailey during math class and daydreaming about our high school’s rugby players, not running a business. In some ways I feel like I haven’t changed a bit, and thinking about Xavier’s life experience and struggles makes me wonder how someone like him could ever be interested in me. But then he places his hand on mine, and it does wonders at easing my worries.
I swirl the champagne in my glass a little, watching the bubbles rise. “What then?”
“Then…the company kept giving me promotions, but I wasn’t happy there. They couldn’t keep up with my ambition,” he admits. “I was always hungry for more, so I left that job and started working in distribution and sales, but that couldn’t tie me down for long either.”
His fingers circle my wrist and it’s all I can do not to think about him tying me down.
“I started diversifying, investing in unrelated businesses and letting my money multiply by supporting other people’s dreams. I got lucky at first, but after a while I learned to recognize true passion, innovation, and the kind of hard work that brings in steady profits.”
I nod, feeling a little out of my depth. “So what was your first business venture?”
"You want to know about my first love, huh?" He winks.
Our conversation is put on hold as the waiter arrives with the first course. Xavier had asked me earlier if I had food preferences or restrictions. When I said I was open to anything, he grinned and told the waiter, "Chef's choice."
The meal starts with a chilled soup that somehow manages to be light despite how creamy it is. It's paired with a crisp white wine that doesn't compete for attention. The food is already so good that for a while all Xavier and I can manage to do is eat and smile.
I've been to a few multi-course dinners for different events and family occasions, but this feels different, special. Like I'm being pampered. I can't believe Xavier lives like this all the time. The staff pays a lot of attention to both of us, checking in to be sure we’re happy and constantly refilling our glasses. I guess it's because he's the boss, but I've never been anywhere where the staff was so concerned about my dinner experience. This is what it must be like when you’re royalty or a big movie star. Every time I realize I might want something, it's already there.
Next the waiter brings out a ceviche with fish, shrimp, and lots of avocado, served with blue corn chips. I'm a little concerned about having so much onion, hoping I'm going to be kissing Xavier later, but the ceviche is so good that I don't care after the first bite. That's what mints are for.
In between bites, I ask Xavier more about his business. "You were telling me about your first love?”
He smiles. “It was a restaurant. Nowhere near as good as this one, of course.”
“What made you pick a restaurant? Aren’t they usually pretty risky investments?”
"It could have been, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t trying to make money at first, it was just for fun. I like to eat." Xavier grins. "But my first place did well, better than I expected. It was a small walk-up shack near Calle Ocho."
"That's the Cuban area of town, right? Is the place still there?"
He nods as he finishes a bite of food. "Yes, Little Havana. The restaurant is right in the middle of all the activity. The woman who owned it has been able to keep the business in the family all this time, and now her son runs the kitchen. We serve coffee and pastelitos all day."
"I'm intrigued. What are pastelitos?"
"Oh, you'd love them. They're a kind of pastry. The crust is flaky yet buttery, and they’re filled with cheese or fruit. I'll take you there sometime."
My mouth is watering. "That sounds incredible. We definitely have to go."
Xavier starts to say something but is interrupted by a man wearing a suit too expensive to belong to a waiter. He leans in to whisper something, and Xavier's expression clouds and then angers. He listens for a moment and then practically spits out, "This is not the time. Just handle it." The man nods and leaves.
Xavier stares after the man and then taps the table with his fingers before turning back to me. "I apologize for the interruption." His expression has softened, and he gives me a smile. "I'm tired of talking about me, though. I want to know everything about you."
"That might take longer than our dinner, Xavier."
"Well, let's start with how you ended up walking into my life. You said family brought you to Miami. But I get the feeling it's not a happy family situation. I can understand that."
I take a deep breath and give myself a moment to decide how much to tell him. I hadn't intended to get genuinely close to anyone in Miami besides Hailey. Anyone I spent time with in Miami was supposed to just be someone to get information from. But Xavier is different. I want to open up to him, at least as much as I can without giving anything away.
"My brother died a little over six months ago." I'm surprised by how wounded my voice still sounds saying that out loud.
"Oh, Nicole." Xavier reaches across the table and
interlaces his fingers with mine. "I'm so very sorry. You must be hurting so much."
I feel my eyes welling up but I fight back the tears. I’ve had a lot of practice at it by now. "It's been difficult,” I admit. “We used to be really close, but over the last year or two, we didn't talk much. Sometimes I feel like I barely knew him. And I guess I never will."
Xavier places his other hand on top of our intertwined fingers and strokes my skin. He doesn't say anything, and I'm grateful he's giving me the space I need to get the words out.
"I needed a change after… My friend Hailey offered me a place to stay here and got me the job at the resort. I thought if I escaped my normal life that it would all start to make sense."
"But it hasn't helped much, has it?"
I shake my head. "Not really. I mean, I like it here, and I think the change has been good for me, but it's been hard to move on. I feel guilty when I'm having fun. Guilty when I forget about him for an hour or two."
Xavier meets my eyes. "That's understandable, but you deserve to be happy, Nicole. You cannot mourn him every minute of the day. He wouldn't want you to, anyway."
We sit in silence, and I soak in his calm, strong presence. The warm pressure of his hands is comforting. It makes me feel secure, safe.
Completely lost in the moment, I almost forget where we are until Xavier looks away. He nods to the waiter and leans back, slowly pulling his hands away from me. Their absence is noticeable.
I straighten up in my seat as the waiter sets a plate in front of me. A main course of chicken breasts stuffed with vegetables and cheese, black beans and yellow rice, and yucca with lemon and garlic sauce. There's no way I'll finish everything.
My expression must show as much since Xavier says, "Mark, our chef, is fantastic, but I can't ever finish his meals."
