by Roxy Sloane
My throat is dry, and my voice comes out hoarse. "What are you going to do?"
He takes a deep breath. "I need you to help me finish this. Xavier likes you, you can get close to him in ways no one else can. Help me bring him down. Avenge Eli."
I can't believe what I'm hearing. "No way! I can't do that!"
"Keep your voice down, Miss Scott." Barton's voice comes across as pretty scary. I shut my mouth. "Listen to me. You're the only one who can get in there. The only one who he'll let close enough to take him down. You know I’m right."
"No,” I whisper vehemently. “It's too dangerous. If he is the boss, then he's responsible for Eli's death because of his spying. Now you want to get me killed the same way?"
"He won't kill you. He's in love with you. That’s why it has to be you. No one else can do this."
In love with me? For a second, my heart swells. Then I remember that Barton thinks Xavier is El Jefe, and my stomach knots. I still can’t accept that the man I know could really be this larger-than-life crime boss, but it does feel wrong to be happy about his feelings for me. The fact that I’m back to being torn over is he or isn’t he El Jefe makes me frustrated. Barton wanting to use Xavier’s feelings for me, and mine for him, makes me angry.
"I don't care if he promises on his father's grave. I'm not doing it."
I grab my bag and bolt out of the diner before Barton can stop me. Before I agree to something I can't do.
Chapter Seven
On the way home, I turn the information Barton gave me over and over in my head. It's a huge relief to know that I was right about Eli and that he wasn't some drug dealer after all. But I'm no closer to ruling out Xavier as El Jefe. If even Barton doesn't know for sure, how am I going to figure it out?
I can't reconcile the Xavier I see with this kingpin persona. But what do I really know about him? There are people who manipulate and have secret lives…is he one of them? Could he really sit there and talk to me about my dreams and moving on with my life knowing that he had my brother killed? Has this been some kind of sick game to him all along?
Since Eli died, my parents have been drowning in grief. I wanted to find the truth not just because I needed closure but because I needed to give them back something of what had been taken from them. I can't give them back Eli, but I thought I could give them back his good name.
My mom couldn't leave the house for weeks, she was so distraught. But my dad…his grief scared me. He was so quiet, and his expression was like a statue. No emotion, no feeling at all. He didn't cry or anything, just stayed stoic for me and Mom. Then one night I went into the garage to get something out of the deep freezer, and I found him huddled in the corner shaking with sobbing so deep that no sound came out.
All this time they've been told it's an accident and that Eli was involved in bad stuff. They were made to think badly of their son because some cops are in the pocket of this gangster. The memory of my brother has been tarnished, when in reality, he was murdered in cold blood because of what he knew, because he tried to help. Rage pours out of me, and I let it build. Rage at Barton for putting Eli in harm's way, at Eduardo for getting him involved in the first place and for presumably arranging the murder, at El Jefe for ordering it.
At Xavier for whatever part he plays in this.
I don't think, I just move. I walk the two blocks to the apartment complex and get in my car and drive to the island. Security is used to me coming and going, so they don't bother to question me when I arrive in port.
It's too late and too dark to be wandering through the resort, but I've traveled the paths a hundred times by now. I make it to Xavier's villa in no time, operating on sheer autopilot and adrenaline.
When I reach the door, I don't so much knock as pound on it. I don't even wait a second for a response before opening the door with a key borrowed from housekeeping and storming in. My shoes slap loudly on the marble as I stomp into the living room. Xavier is walking in from the pool area, flanked by two armed security guys who have their hands on their guns.
Their presence throws me off, and for a second, I’m not sure what to do. Why does a businessman need armed security? I’ve never seen him with anyone but his driver.
The guards stare me down, but Xavier puts a hand out to each of them. They take their hands off of their guns and back away.
"Nicole! What a surprise to see you again this evening. I'm so glad you came by."
With the guards under control, I recover quickly. "I need to talk to you." My voice is cold and harsh.
Xavier looks a bit surprised, but he dismisses the men and they brush past me, practically snarling as they go. It's only when they leave that it hits me how much danger I've put myself in.
I came over here expecting to confront Xavier, not thinking about the fact that if he really is El Jefe, then I've just put myself in a room with a cold-blooded killer who knows I'm furious with him. I can't even back out now, because he's going to demand answers as to why I stormed his villa.
The hot anger coursing through me cools as I take in his expression. It’s my first time seeing Xavier after hearing everything Agent Barton had to say, and real fear hits me now, square in the chest. I try to scramble for a reason to leave, any excuse to get away from him, away from the man who just might have been the one to rip my brother away from this world, from me, from my family, tearing all of our hearts to pieces.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come," I bring my hand to my chest, trying to hide the relentless, pounding rhythm of my heart. "I don’t know what got into me."
Something flashes across Xavier's face. Hurt, maybe, but he covers it quickly with a sly smile as he takes a slow step closer to me. "Go? But you just got here."
"I need to go," I try to say, but it comes out in a strained whisper.
He takes a step closer, and I try to back away, but that only puts me closer to the table. The table where I had my first mind-blowing orgasm with him. Xavier notices where my gaze goes and his eyes follow.
"Nicole," he whispers, closing the distance between us.
I turn away from him, but his hands clutch my waist and he pulls me backwards against his chest, against his hips, against the erection straining against his zipper. He dips down to kiss me, right under my ear lobe, and despite my fear, despite my anger still bubbling under the surface, a shiver runs down my spine and I find myself relaxing into his touch.
"Do you see how crazy you make me? Do you feel it?" He asks, pressing me harder against his erection. "Just the sight of you, here in this room, and this is what you do to me."
Without meaning to, I let out a little moan and lean against his hard chest, feeling his cock pressing into my lower back. As I feel it growing harder, my breath catches, not from fear this time, but from wanting him even closer. Wanting to feel him, wanting to strip all the layers between us and feel the hard length of him as he plunges inside me from behind.
"Do you know how hard it is to try and walk around, live my life, do business for Christ's sake, when all I can think about is all the ways I want to make you come? All I can think about is watching you naked, Nicole. The sounds you make. That little flush across your skin. How sweet your pussy tastes as you scream for me and come all over my tongue."
"Oh God," I breathe out.
"You think about me, too, don't you Nicole?" he asks, with a hint of mischief in his voice like he already knows the answer. Because he does.
And that's when I push against his arms and wheel around to face him. He's right. I do think about him. Even though I don't want to. Even though I know I shouldn't. The anger comes back in a rush, pulsing through my veins. But now I don't know who I'm angrier with, me or him. Me, for doing this to myself, for coming here, for losing all my resolve with just one touch, or him, for making me. Him, for everything.
He looks down at me, curiosity coloring his expression as he waits for me to say something. Because I clearly need to say something. But the lust I can't contain inside of me mixes with the
heat of my anger and before I even understand what I'm doing or why, I reach up for him and crush his lips to mine.
#
I grab and claw at him, not caring if I hurt him. Not caring if he hurts me. I feel like a wild animal in heat, and I want to fuck like one.
My hands fumble with his belt buckle and zipper. He's trying to slow me down at first, but my hand rubbing his cock through the fabric gets him to speed up. He spins me back around and pulls my shirt over my head while I undo my jeans and push them and my black panties down my hips. My pussy is dripping wet with the need to have him fill it.
I lean over on the table and wiggle my ass at him. He pushes me down, making my legs spread a little more, but the jeans keep them tight together. I'm still reaching around behind me, wanting to guide him inside me, but he grabs my wrists and holds them tight against my back. A second later, the hot tip of his cock rests against my pussy and he rams it home.
I gasp as his pelvis smacks my ass, then I grind back against him. He moans and pulls out just slightly to ram it back in again and again.
"Oh, God. Fuck me." I’m gasping for breath, every thrust sending jolts of ecstasy through me. This is everything I needed, and I never want it to stop.
"You want more?" he growls, angling even deeper to hit my G spot.
"Fuck, yes. Harder. Mmmm…"
I can hear him panting behind me as he gives me what I asked for. "You want it bad, don't you? You’ve got a needy pussy and you want me to stick it in you, don’t you?"
I let out a whimper as he stops and pulls almost all the way out. The thought comes to me that this is the last thing I should be doing with him right now. But with his cock still inside me and my pussy throbbing with need, my brain doesn’t stand much of a chance.
“Don’t stop,” I moan.
He's still holding my hands behind my back, and there's something so fucking hot about not being able to control when he thrusts and how deep he goes that has me panting and grunting like the animal I am. He stays just inside my pussy, pushing in farther with each slow thrust as I moan and writhe on the table.
"Beg me. Show me how much you want it."
"I do. I want it so bad. Please, don’t stop."
I push back against him, straining for friction. He smacks my ass with his hand, and I yelp with surprise. But the sting quickly turns me on. I can't take much more teasing or I'm going to explode. It’s impossible to remember why this is supposed to be a bad idea.
"Fuck me, Xavier. Please. Give it to me." There’s real desperation in my voice, but he’s still holding back, driving me crazy with lust.
"I don't think you want it badly enough." He smacks my ass again harder, and I gasp in pleasure and pain.
He pushes in and out once, and I moan and writhe on the table, grinding my clit into the edge since I can't use my hands. Another smack.
"Please. Please, please." I draw the words out, begging for what I need. I'm surprised I can even get words out. "Fuck me hard."
"Like this?" He thrusts in and out, hard and fast like a jackhammer, and I feel every nerve in my body light up.
“That’s it,” I groan, and he thrusts again. Each thrust reminds me how much he wants me too. How he is just as addicted to me as I am to him. Two addicts searching for a fix. And finding it in every stroke, every position, every dirty word.
His hands reach around and grab my breasts, squeezing them as he grinds against my ass. The movement pushes me against the edge of the table and lets him go even deeper with the next thrust. My mind’s gone somewhere else, the mind-blowing sex eclipsing all rational thought.
I’m delirious with pleasure. Each time he slams into me, I forget a little more why I should stay away from him.
He pushes me down onto the table and grabs my thighs, opening me wider. His next thrust is so deep, so hard, that I can’t believe I don’t orgasm right then.
"Oh God, yes," I pant. “Fuck.” I want him harder, deeper, splitting me wide open.
Xavier changes up the pace and switches to a series of agonizing, slow thrusts, and my need for him to fuck my brains out is so strong that I don’t care about whether it’s wrong or not. Something that feels this good, that’s this hot, cannot be wrong. The anger and the adrenaline and the tension of trying to stay away from him has me so worked up that I’m desperate to orgasm. I’m grinding on the table and my hand, pushing back against him, bucking like a wild animal.
I can’t get enough of him.
“Jesus, Nicole,” he says, swearing in low, throaty tones. “You’re perfect for me.”
He speeds up, grabbing at my hips and pulling me toward him at the same time he pushes into me. He keeps at it, hard and fast, his cock pounding away at me until I'm rabid with lust. His moans and grunts turn me on even more. I’ve never been fucked like this. Not even by him.
I don't even know what noises I'm making, and I don't care who hears them. The pleasure is so strong that every nerve in my body buzzes. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. It feels like nothing exists but our bodies and the sweet, rhythmic hammering of his cock. Time has stopped, nothing matters. I feel myself slipping over the edge, losing control.
“Xavier,” I moan. “I’m coming.”
For a moment he pauses, and I feel a gathering of hot, electric tension centered around my clit, pounding in my blood. Then, with a grunt, he slams into me, his cock harder than ever, and I shudder with my orgasm, completely helpless, moaning loudly and rocking the table as the waves explode through me.
Xavier quickly pulls out and flips me onto my back. My legs are spread open, my ass and pussy exposed. He pushes my legs up, back toward my stomach, and drives into me again, relentless. My legs are shaking. I'm barely holding on.
"God, you're so tight. I want to fill your pussy with my juice. Do you want that?"
"I want to taste it. I want it all over me."
"You're a nasty girl, aren't you? You want me to come on your face? Your tits?"
I look up at him with lust in my eyes. "Yes. All over me."
The look on his face in response sends me over the edge again. I shake with wave after wave of orgasm, gasping for breath. He pounds away at my pussy, driving deeper and deeper, grinding against me with his throbbing cock.
Before my orgasm is finished, he's out of me and up on the table, straddling me. I wrap my hands around the width of him and pump him as he reaches behind and fingers me. My pussy is still spasming when he comes, leaving hot, wet liquid all over my tits and my face. I push myself up and lick the remnants off the tip of his cock and he stiffens again.
His grin spans the entire width of his face. "Damn." He shakes his head and climbs off the table, helping me up. After a slow, deep kiss, he pulls back. "Let's get cleaned up."
He drags me off to the shower. The water is hot and steamy and feels amazing. I reach for the soap, but Xavier pushes my hand away.
“That’s my part.” He gives me a sly smile. “Turn around.”
I turn to face the water and let it run down my chest and legs. The scent of coconut fills the air as Xavier puts liquid soap on my back.
He uses his hands to spread the soap across my shoulders, massaging the muscles as he goes. He gives equal attention to my lower back. The feel of his hands on me has my skin on fire all over again. I have no idea how I can still get so turned on after what just happened. I thought I had nothing left.
He slowly runs his hands down my legs, working the muscles with his fingers. I’m so relaxed that I don’t know how I’m even standing. But my body goes back on alert when he slides his hand up my inner thigh. As he gets closer to the top, my pussy starts to throb again. He washes the top of my thighs and lets his thumb slip to graze my swollen lips. A shudder runs through my body, and he whispers into my ear.
“Seems like your body wants a little more. But before I can give it to you, I need to know…you’d never betray me Nicole, would you?”
My senses are on high alert. I was completely gone after that
last orgasm, but his question sends shivers down my spine. Does he suspect something? Or does he just want more of a commitment from me than I’m giving him?
“Of course not. How could I?” I try to make my voice sound teasing, but the shake in it betrays my nerves.
“I want to keep you close to me, I want you to know everything about me. But I need to know I can trust you.”
I don’t know what to say. I don’t really know him. I don’t really know what he’s capable of, all I know is that my gut says he’s right for me. But maybe that’s because he’s so very bad.
He kneels down behind me. His breath is warm against the back of my thighs for a moment, and I can feel him waiting.
I don’t know what he’s about to do to me, but then he spreads my ass cheeks and begins to lick my crack, slowly moving upward, his tongue tracing the tight nub of nerves till I’m dizzy. I’ve never had someone do this to me before.
I’m so turned on I don’t know if I can keep standing.
“Xavier,” I moan. He stops. Waiting for me to tell him something I can’t yet say.
Gripping my ass tighter in each hand, he begins to lick me in earnest, humming against my ass. His fingers are pressed so hard into me I know I’ll have marks tomorrow, but I love the sensation. The hot wetness, the pain of him squeezing me and the fear of not knowing who he is.. It’s a lethal combination.
My eyes close as he continues licking and probing with his tongue. Just when I think it can’t get any better, he reaches around with one of his hands and starts to lightly tease my pussy. I’m moaning, grinding back against his face as his mouth fucks my ass. He leans me forward a bit against the shower wall and sticks his finger in my ass, sliding it in without hesitation. The invasion is illicit and just what I needed.
I come on his hand as the water cascades down my face and over my body. He stands up and turns me around, grabbing the soap.
“I haven’t finished washing you yet.” He gazes at my body with pure animal intensity and starts sudsing up my breasts. My nipples are so sensitive that every movement sends a jolt directly between my legs, like aftershocks from the millionth orgasm I’ve had that day.
