by Lia Lee
“I’ll drink to that,” he said, gesturing to the other bartender on duty, an old hand at all of it named Morris. Xavier smiled, the gesture highlighting the perfect dimples in his cheeks, and set a hundred-dollar bill on the table. “Two kamikazes please.”
Morris nodded and came back with the shots. “Thanks, man.”
“My pleasure,” Xavier replied, his voice a low, sultry rumble. For a moment, Sandra thought she’d heard the hint of an accent. “Now,” he said, turning to her. “Here’s to the same shit, different day.”
She nodded and swallowed the shot in one draught. The liquid burned down her throat and the taste tingled on her tongue. Perfect, vodka. Sandra could handle almost anything, but vodka went straight to her brain and seemed to deactivate it.
“Whoa!”
“You’re not used to a kamikaze?” he said, his tone wry.
“I don’t usually drink much. Funny, I…uh…work in a place like this,” she said, not wanting to admit she came to her actual work on her day off. “I’m just a bit of ‘wine or a beer once in a while’ kinda girl. Whatever’s cheap and on tap will do.”
“Swill,” he said. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Well, Xavier, I’m not fancy. I’m just a plain, down-to-earth girl. I don’t work for a congressman or run a big, fancy lobbying firm.”
He grinned and drummed his fingers on the bar top. “I didn’t say I was one of those either. I’m not interested in most of the wheeling and dealing around here, but I do come and see who I need to deal with in order to keep my business running.”
“Ooh, something fancy like real estate? Maybe you deal with crab fishing. What secrets do you have hiding down there, Mr. Clifton?”
“Nothing too exciting. Food distribution. That’s just what I do, but I think we all have our secrets, Sandra. Tell me something about yourself no one even knows.”
“Huh?”
“I’m not talking about something kinky. I just mean something that you can’t tell anyone else. I’ll go first,” he said, gesturing to Morris for another round of shots. “I never had any interest in going into the family business, but I also never wanted to see it fall into my brother’s hands completely. If I could do anything, I think I’d train horses. I always loved riding as a kid, and still do it when I can. But as Javier, my brother, would say, that doesn’t pay the bills.”
She quirked her head at him, intrigued by his candor. That wasn’t the kind of secret she expected someone dressed like a million bucks to tell her. Maybe he really had been having a terrible day too. He held his shoulders up high with an easy grace, but there was a slight bow to his head.
“Well,” she said, accepting the next kamikaze and this time enjoying the burn as it worked its way down her throat. Warmth flared in her gut and her head spun with the potency of the alcohol pouring through her veins. Zane who? “Is it my turn?”
“That would be tit for tat,” he said, his voice a silky purr.
God, he could get any woman to drop her panties for him with a voice like that. You add in all those knowing looks, and god help me!
“They have this test,” she said, spinning the shot glass around in her hands, “when you’re in high school, and you’re supposed to meet with the guidance counselor to figure out what you want to be.”
“I’m following.”
“It’s a thought experiment,” Sandra continued. “If you had a million dollars and never had to worry about bills again or whatever, what would you be?”
He laughed. “I don’t think a million would come close to taking care of you for your whole life.”
“Yeah, that was a few years ago. Even if it wasn’t, you know, it could be ‘what would you do if you had a billion’ sort of thing.”
He grinned. “Now that’s more up my alley.”
She just kept herself from rolling her eyes. Normally, she’d never tolerate quite a line. Whatever or whoever Xavier Clifton was, he wasn’t a billionaire. Those types didn’t go out after hours to regular DC bars, no matter how bad their day had been or what kind of sob story or breakup they might be reeling from. But he was gorgeous and charming, so it was worth still carrying on the banter with him.
“Anyway, when I was young I’d have given anything to be able to make movies. I have a YouTube channel now where I have some followers, but I review the work of others while I actually work as a waitress. I guess, and this is stupid, but I’d want to direct if I could do anything in the world.”
“Did you go to film school?”
She shrugged and stretched up in her seat. “I’m still saving up. My parents don’t have a lot of money, and it takes a lot to save up for a good film school out West or to live in NYC. It’s just slow going.”
“And no one knows that about you?”
“Oh, my friend Tonya knows about the channel but thinks I only like riffing on bad flicks. I can’t tell any of my friends about it, and even my parents think I’m just going to fall into waitressing. I guess, I dunno, it sounds so grandiose that I’m going to be the next Spielberg or something. I didn’t want people to pat me on the head and tell me that was nice but deep down pity me as being the crazy gal, you know?”
“I like your dream,” Xavier supplied. “I don’t think it would sound any odder to your family than my dream of training Arabians and riding all day would to mine.”
“If only we didn’t have to do what was expected of us,” Sandra said, surprised when Xavier put one large, warm hand over her own on the counter.
“Maybe tonight we don’t. I don’t know exactly what kind of day you’ve had, but maybe just this once we can have what we want, not worry about what everyone else is thinking.” He stared into her eyes, and those stunning emerald orbs of his took her breath away and kept her from thinking clearly. “What do you think?”
She nodded and stood up, offering him her hand. “I was wondering if you’d like to dance.”
Xavier’s grin lit up his face. God, how she wanted to taste not just his lips but his dimples. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He took her hand and led her to the dance floor. Sandra caught sight of Tonya, who spotted them from the bar. She had her thumbs up and was grinning back at them. Of course, Tonya, who was practically fearless, would be egging this on. Under normal circumstances, Sandra would be cautious, the responsible one, but the alcohol was buzzing through her system. Besides, she’d been that way with Zane. She’d been the good girl, and all it had resulted in was humiliation and sadness.
Tonight, just for once, maybe she could do what she wanted.
After all, she’d never see Xavier again.
What could it hurt?
She sauntered to the dance floor hand in hand with Xavier. The bass was beating ferociously around them, and it felt so natural to have him curl his body around hers from behind and his length pressed up against her as his arms snaked around her waist. She pressed flat against him, felt the heat of his body flowing into her own. Sandra pulled away from him and smiled seductively up at Xavier’s face. Her hips moved with a sensuous rhythm, swaying from side to side as she beckoned him back to her embrace.
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and she pressed her hips against his. His mouth met hers and then she found his tongue teasing her own, begging for a caress. Sandra opened her mouth so that she could be devoured by his kiss and his lips would taste her, his tongue would probe the hidden depths within her mouth. Heat flared across her belly and spread to her core. She was sure had nothing to do with her drunkenness.
No, that was all Xavier. His hands roamed the expanse of her body, pressing into her ass, and pushing her closer against his hardness.
She moaned and nibbled at his ear. Leaning up, she asked, “Do you have some place private we can go? I need to do more than dance.”
Xavier held her tightly still, but his tone was a bit less certain than it had been before. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel you have to do anything you don’t want to.”
She moved her m
outh lower to graze her teeth over the stubble on his chin. “I want this. Trust me, Xavier. I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”
His green eyes regarded her, as if trying to ferret out any hesitation. “Good, then I have an idea. Come with me to my limo.”
“Your what?” Her eyes widened, and while she still didn’t think Xavier was a billionaire, Sandra was beginning to realize part of his story at the bar had to be true. “You have a limo?”
“I want a place more private for us than a spare room the staff still go in and out of. Now, come on,” he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and leading her to the back lot.
The breeze of the cool spring air hit her full on as they exited Atlantis. The early April night still felt more like March, and after coming out from the throng of bodies and the heated dance floor, she felt the temperature change acutely. Shivering a little, she burrowed into Xavier’s muscular torso.
He rubbed at her shoulder as he led her to the VIP side of the club’s parking lot. “Are you okay? You’re shivering.”
“Lace dress plus cold snap isn’t a great addition problem,” she said.
“Then I’ll make sure the driver hits the heat as soon as he can,” Xavier said, opening up the door and letting her slip inside first.
“Wait, the driver?”
“I’m not an idiot. I have the chauffeur up front.” To make his point, he first shut the door and then pressed a little button in the roof. “Rupert, please put up the heat and make sure all the barriers between here and the back seat stay up. We don’t wish to be disturbed. I’ll call you if we need anything at all.”
“My pleasure, sir,” the driver said, his voice tinged with a British accent.
She blushed. “Can he…can he hear us?”
“Not with the divider. It’s discreet, I promise.”
“You’ve had practice with this?” she asked, her voice a bit incredulous but also intrigued. If this was her once-in-a-lifetime story, then she wanted to be bold. The idea of being intimate with his driver just on the other side of the barrier was making her less anxious and a bit excited. I have a voyeur streak, who knew? “Do I want to know how much?”
“Tonight,” Xavier said, kissing her throat and letting his tongue trail over her pulse point. “Let’s just talk about us tonight. Let’s have a break with all the bad history, all those stories that are wearing us down. For right now, let’s make our own.”
She swallowed hard, knowing this was the last chance she had to back out, to be the responsible friend—the same old girl who was always the designated driver at every event. That had just led her to being twenty-four in a dead-end job, and with a broken heart. If nothing else, this would be her one night, an oasis in the crap desert of her life. What was one night of fun? After all, no one would really have to know, outside of Tonya who’d basically blessed their union.
“I think I can live with that,” she said, leaning against the leather of the bench seat. She expected Xavier to go back to kissing her. After all, that’s what they’d been doing out on the club floor.
She was surprised when he got to his knees in the limo before her. He slipped off one pump and started massaging her foot. “You’re beautiful, Sandra, did you know that?”
“Thank you,” she said, unsure how else to respond. Zane had said it so rarely to her. It was amazing to hear that from a man as gorgeous as Xavier, someone who clearly was worldly and rich. “What are you doing?”
He slipped off her other heel and gave her a grin that the devil himself would envy. “I want to show you how beautiful I thought you were, to let you know how much I want to worship you tonight.”
To her shock and pleasure, he started kissing his way up her right leg, his lips feather light as he moved up her shin and then to her knee. His hands caressed and kneaded her thigh before he let his tongue lave over her skin.
Sandra giggled a little and blushed. She’d always been ticklish, and this was something she’d never felt before. The last thing she wanted to do was to kill the mood, but she couldn’t help squirming just a little as he made his way up her leg.
“That feels amazing,” she said.
“Sounds like you’re laughing at me,” he said, his tone playful.
“I’m not! I just am a bit ticklish,” she confessed. “It’s still amazing. Don’t stop.”
“I don’t intend to,” he said as his lips met the flesh of her upper thigh. He paused after a while and put his hands on either knee. “Can you spread these gorgeous legs of yours for me?”
She hesitated. “You don’t have to.”
After all, Zane never wanted to. He always complained till I stopped even asking. Oral was such a one-way street.
“I’d love to. Have you never had a man pleasure you this way?”
She sighed. “It was usually more trouble than it was worth. I always had to beg for it, and it wasn’t…he made me feel guilty for asking.”
“There’s no guilt here,” Xavier said, spreading her legs apart and smiling at the apex of her thighs. Reaching out, he traced his fingers over the soft cotton of her underwear. “You’re already ready for me, aren’t you?”
She swallowed, unaware that the heat in her core had made her wet as well. “I didn’t know…I…”
“Lift your hips,” he commanded. “That’s all I want, just to make you feel good.”
She did as she was told, arching her hips as he slid the plain black panties down over her legs, before losing them on the floor. Now she was exposed to him. He could see the soft down of her dark curls over her womanhood. Her breath hitched, and she sat there, scared that he’d reject her. That somehow this perfect moment could go no further.
His green eyes, however, seemed to light up with a fire from within as he smiled. “You,” he said, running a hand through her curls, “are a revelation. Now I’m going to taste you.”
She nodded and hissed as his hands found their way to her secret lips. His strong fingers parted her folds and stroked the skin there. She closed her eyes and leaned back as electricity seemed to sizzle over her skin and sparks danced across her nerves.
“So beautiful, so perfect,” he said, and then his tongue was probing her, plundering deep into her channel.
Sandra mewled and thrust her hips forward, giving Xavier more access to her core. His tongue thrust deeper, and he lapped against her inner walls, devouring the juices therein. Her body shook as the sparks arched over her. His fingers found her most sensitive bundle of nerves and grazed against them, just a slow roll against her pearl. The electricity swelled within her. Then, Xavier started in on her in earnest.
His thumb and forefinger flicked eagerly at her rosebud while his tongue plumbed her hidden depths. She moaned and bucked, feeling more like a wild animal than herself. She screamed his name as his stroking grew in intensity. Then he pulled his tongue out and moved his fingers away. His lips wrapped around her pleasure button and he began to suckle her.
The orgasm hit her then like lightning. The electricity spiked over her nerves until she lay there shuddering and spent beneath him.
Xavier picked himself up and grabbed a few towels to wipe himself off. Then, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and drank it in long gulps. She watched his Adam’s apple bob and shuddered again thinking of the power and control in just the man’s tongue.
God, what else can he do?
When he was done, he curled up onto the seat next to her and offered Sandra a fresh bottle of water. “Would you like anything else?”
Sighing, she looked down at her watch. “I promised Tonya I’d go with her to a concert, so we have maybe an hour left. Right now?”
“Yes?”
“I want to bathe in the afterglow. Then maybe I can make you scream.”
He kissed her forehead. “I’d like that very much.”
Chapter Two
Fourteen months later…
“I can’t believe you’re getting promoted!” Tonya said as she sipped her s
oda.
Sandra was back at their shared apartment, hanging out with her best friend. About a year ago, Tonya had gotten a better paying gig as part of the custodial staff for Catalan Food Industries. The job was far from glamorous, but no one had ever called waitressing super fun work either. When Tonya told her about the salary jump, Sandra had begged her for a referral for months until she’d gotten an interview with the head of the cleaning staff. For the last six months, they’d been quite the pair and kept the office building as neat as a pin. Tonya still tended the bar at night to supplement her income, but Sandra was glad to kiss the drunks hanging off her and the douches of Pennsylvania Avenue good-bye. It had given her enough of a financial boost to up her YouTube production to three videos a week, and she now was close to one hundred thousand subscribers and that coveted silver play button plaque.
Well, silver-toned plaque.
But it would still look awesome in their apartment.
It wasn’t actually making films, but it was closer than anything else she was doing, and having a day job with actual health insurance gave her the freedom to do what she needed.
Still, she hadn’t expected Estelle, the head of the staff, to recommend her for a promotion to be a personal maid for the boss. Apparently, his last maid had been caught rifling through his files in an effort at corporate espionage. The big boss had demanded someone trustworthy and thorough, and Estelle had recommended her.
She sipped her own drink and nodded at her friend. “I’m pretty nervous. I don’t know much about the guy. The company Web site always talks about the tradition of the founder, Carlos Villalobos, but it isn’t very forthcoming about the two sons currently running it.”
Tonya shook her head. “Yeah, who heard of billionaires who don’t want to be on social media? I heard they ghosted everything as much as they could after some big paparazzi disaster around two years ago. Still, it’s not like you’re working for Mr. Hyde or some scarred evil dude. He’s just private.”
Sandra nodded. “I can’t imagine going through life without a Facebook page or by dodging Google searches. That’s just different.”
