BargainWiththeBeast

by Naima Simone

  She was so screwed.

  A rough chuckle escaped her throat and it carried the edge of despair. Since Xavier had delivered his bargain, she’d used martyrdom for the community center as justification for agreeing to his terms. Though still beaten up by recriminations over Joshua’s death, her need to help the community center outweighed her guilt. Being the sacrificial lamb had enabled her to accept the offer.

  But after last night, she could no longer sail along the banks of “De Nile”. The community center had been a convenient excuse, and the unvarnished, stark truth was she’d arrived at his home and agreed to be mistress to the beast because she loved him. To grab her one chance at being with him. For years she’d dreamed of being possessed by him. She’d hungered to know the joy of being in his arms, of holding his body close while they exploded in an ecstasy she’d instinctively known only he could bring her.

  She’d experienced both. And the intimacy, the bliss had far exceeded her fantasies. So what could she do? Where did she go from here? How could she drive away at the end of these seven days and pretend she wasn’t leaving her heart behind as well?

  After making love the night before, she’d released Xavier from the ties and he had enfolded her in his arms, held her close and pressed his lips to her temple. The tenderness of his embrace had shattered something inside her. Yes, she’d betrayed Joshua for years by loving his brother and not mustering the courage to confess the truth. But how much longer could she flay herself over a mistake? Especially when the beauty she’d experienced with Xavier edged out the grief, purified her of the shame. Love had stripped away fear, guilt and pride. This man who had submitted his strength and vulnerability to her deserved no less than her honesty.

  She’d whispered his name, prepared to admit everything—her love for him, her role in Joshua’s death—but Xavier had covered her mouth with his and made love to her again. And when sunlight had spilled across her bed the next morning, she’d been alone.

  And now doubt and her ol’ albatross—fear—had crept back in.

  She propped her chin on her arms and closed her eyes. Last night she’d been ready to lay her sins out before him. But hours later, the thought of facing his derision or worse—his disgust—terrified her. Twisted her stomach into knots so tight, it might be permanently kinked.

  “Good morning.”

  She straightened and whirled at the husky greeting. Surprise and delight bubbled in her chest. Every time she met his green eyes she was transported back to the time when she was a shy teen, eager and happy to just grab a glimpse of him. Some things didn’t change. He still wielded the power to incite pandemonium in her pulse.

  As usual, his rich golden-brown hair was restrained, but the intent stare—while holding none of the heat in their depths from the night before—didn’t contain the aloof frost from the previous morning.

  Cautious. His quiet regard was cautious. As if he was unsure of her frame of mind in the revealing light of a new morning. She snorted silently. Join the club.

  “Hey,” she returned and cleared her throat. And dropped her gaze. And rubbed her palms down the front of her pants. Silly. After all they’d shared, she was like a girl in front of her high school crush.

  “Have you ever ridden before?”

  She stared at him. Blinked. The corner of his mouth quirked and he nodded toward the pasture and horses behind her. “Horses. Have you ever ridden horses before?”

  “Oh. Right.” Oh God. “No, I never have. Not much cause for them in Roxbury.”

  Xavier nodded, expression stoic. “I can see that.” He flicked a glance over her shoulder before returning his attention to her. “Do you want a lesson?”

  Stunned, she gaped at him. “Wh-what,” she sputtered. “Y-you’re going to give it to me?”

  He shrugged. “Either me or the leprechaun sitting over there under the tree.”

  Her eyebrows drew together in a mock scowl even as her heart leaped at the thought of spending time with him. She desired his company more than learning to ride one of the majestic animals. “Very funny.”

  The familiar vulnerability crept back in like a stealthy thief, pilfering a measure of her joy. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, Gwen,” he murmured and again delight rose up and warmed her like the sun’s rays never could. Gwen. He called me Gwen. “Go put on a pair of jeans and boots, if you have any.” Xavier dipped his chin in the direction of her black slacks. “I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes.”

  She nodded briefly, then brushed past him and headed toward the house. In record time, she changed her clothes and shoes, hurried from her room, down the stairs and across the wide lawn to the pasture and stable. As she stood in the open doorway, Xavier strode down the aisle, a saddle and bridle resting on his shoulder. He paused and his steady inspection traveled from her loose curls, down her brown leather jacket, blue jeans and sneakers.

  “Wait here,” he ordered before spinning around and retracing his path down the breezeway toward the back of the stable. Within a couple of minutes, he returned with a pair of boots clutched in his hand.

  “Here.” He knelt and lowered the riding gear to the ground. The curl of his fingers beckoned her forward and she obeyed the command.

  He encircled her ankle, lifted her foot and removed her sneaker. He repeated the process with the other foot and she curled her toes into the hard floor.

  “These should fit. They’re one of the stable hands’, but I don’t think she’ll mind.” He smoothed his palm along her arch, smoothing her white sock to ensure the garment didn’t bunch and cause her any discomfort, then fit the dusty brown boot on her foot. Tenderness rippled through her in ever widening rings of delight. Warmth spread to her chest and penetrated deeper into her heart, her spirit.

  “All set.” Xavier patted the toe of her boot and, hoisting the saddle and bridle to his shoulder again, rose to his full height. Strange how last week he had intimidated her, but now the way he towered over her comforted her, offered security…and turned her on. Damn, she had it bad.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. His slight smile caused lust to knot then slowly uncoil in her stomach, shooting delicious heat to her nipples and sex. She almost suggested foregoing the lesson in favor of riding him.

  “I chose Marian for you,” he said and closed his hand around hers. “She’s the gentlest mare and the most patient.”

  “She’ll need to be with me,” Gwendolyn grumbled and he flashed another of those rare smiles over his shoulder as he pulled her along. Wow. She exhaled a hard breath. For that smile, she would attempt to ride the wildest stallion alive.

  “You might be surprised at how well you take to horseback, Gwen,” he assured her with a fleeting squeeze to her fingers. He paused next to the stable doors, bent and grabbed a blanket, then continued out into the corral.

  Of the four beautiful animals grazing in the field, Xavier approached a horse standing close to the fence, the slender head hanging over the top rung. The shiny, mahogany coat resembled the lustrous color of Xavier’s locks. After a soft whistle and click of his tongue, he called the mare’s name and she turned huge, quiet eyes to her master. He stroked her darker mane and crooned hushed praises in her ear. Gwendolyn stared at his large hands and long, elegant fingers. And swallowed a soft sigh. He’d handled her with similar gentle caresses in the heat of passion, soothing her with word and touch. And she probably trembled as Marian did under his attention.

  The man had a way with the ladies. She smirked.

  The horse lowered her head and nudged Xavier’s pocket with her dark nose. Chuckling, he reached inside his thick black sweater and removed a carrot and a slice of apple. A pleased whinny escaped the mare before she nipped the offered food.

  “Good girl,” he crooned and a shiver passed down Gwen’s spine and tingled in her sex. Xavier had murmured those exact words to her a couple of nights earlier. As she’d played with her pussy and he watched. She swallowed a groan.

  Pay attention. Horseb
ack riding lessons. Not sex. Not—her gaze fondled his ass in the fitted dark blue jeans as he threw the blanket over the mare’s back—sex.

  Minutes later, he had the saddle on the horse, the cinches tightened beneath her belly, stirrups adjusted and the bridle fastened.

  “Okay, baby. Up you go.” Bending low, he cupped his hands and glanced up at her. “Put your foot here and I’ll hoist you up. Swing your leg over and grab the reins. I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?”

  She nodded, hesitant but trusting. He hadn’t needed to reassure her he would care for her. She harbored no doubts on that front.

  Gwendolyn followed his instructions and, in seconds, she straddled the horse’s back. Jesus. Her stomach plummeted straight to her toes. She’d never perched on the top of the Empire State Building, but the dizzying sense of oh-my-God-please-don’t-let-me-hurl-on-my-shoes had to be the same.

  “Uh…”

  “Easy, Gwen.” Xavier chuckled and patted her calf. “I can see the whites of your eyes.”

  “I’m…uh…good,” she stuttered. And swallowed hard. “She’s awfully…um…big, isn’t she?”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll become accustomed to her. Just give it a few minutes.” Again he petted her leg. “Brush her mane. Horses like to be touched, gentled. You’ll lose your anxiety and she’ll become more used to you.”

  Inhaling, she leaned forward and squeezed the reins. The horse nervously sidestepped, but Xavier immediately soothed her.

  “Don’t tighten up on the reins, sweetheart. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” She latched onto the confidence in his voice and brushed a trembling caress over the dark mane. Mimicking his tone, Gwendolyn whispered some nonsensical words and soon the pit in her stomach transformed to a shallow hole.

  “You ready?” He settled his gaze on her face and the assurance in his eyes calmed her like a dozen platitudes could not.

  “Ready.”

  For the next hour, Xavier led her and the horse through different paces. He taught her how to sit in the saddle and guide the mare, and with each small success, Gwendolyn’s confidence increased. Soon her trepidation faded under the excitement of learning and feeling the animal respond to her directions. True, they never went above a slow walk but, God, it was fun!

  “You’re doing wonderful.” She beamed and he smiled. Joy spiraled up from her stomach and mushroomed through her chest. Each smile he gifted her was better than winning the Pulitzer Prize. “Are you up for a ride?”

  A thrill zinged through her. “Of course.”

  Xavier hooked his foot in the stirrup and swung up behind her. The leap barely stirred the horse, but Gwen’s stomach dipped. Yet as soon as his chest pressed into her spine and his hips cradled her bottom, she calmed. And when he encircled her within his strong embrace to take the reins, she found sanctuary.

  A low click of his tongue set them off. The horse and man flowed as one and she marveled at the beauty and strength of them. After several turns around the fenced-in pasture, he directed the mare from the corral and out into the breathtaking landscape surrounding his home.

  As they trotted down a well-worn trail through the red-and-gold-painted trees, chirping birds and the muted tinkle of a far-off stream greeted them. Between the gorgeous scenery, the exhilaration of riding and the power of the man behind her, Gwendolyn was bewitched.

  “Having fun?”

  She tilted her head back and grinned. “God, yes.” She laughed in sheer happiness.

  “Good,” he replied, and then shocked her by planting a small kiss on the tip of her nose. Speechless, she gaped at him before facing forward. Her heart knocked a hard tattoo against the wall of her chest but, bit by bit, a wide grin she couldn’t contain stretched her mouth. Yeah, she probably looked the fool wearing such a huge smile on her face but, dammit, she didn’t care.

  The horse’s pace gradually slowed to a walk and she inhaled a deep breath. The clean scent of earth and Xavier’s skin filled her lungs. She closed her eyes and savored the flavor of nature and man. Both seductive in their individual ways.

  “Tell me about yourself, Gwen.” He brushed his lips along the curve of her ear as he spoke and she squeezed her eyes tighter before lifting her lashes to stare down at his long-fingered hands, holding the reins in a loose grip. “I want to know you again.”

  Once more she angled her head back to regard him. “Do you?” she asked and managed not to wince at the vulnerability in those two words. But she didn’t glance away. Didn’t pretend as if his request for intimate knowledge of her didn’t carry importance in her heart. Didn’t feign as if a hidden part of her soul wasn’t dancing in delight at the possibility she may be more than an available body to him.

  “Yes.” His solemn gaze met hers and held it. “Yes, I do.”

  She resumed her forward position. Where did she start? With Joshua’s death? The years of guilt she’d come to terms with only last night in his arms?

  “A few months after Josh’s death, I assumed the role of program director at the community center. I’d been on staff there a couple of years and after Josh…” She paused and allowed the spasm of hurt to pass. “After Josh, I started spending more time there so I was thrilled when the board offered me the position.”

  “It was your lifesaver,” he added and the wealth of understanding in his voice loosened the knot in her throat.

  “Yes,” she said. “It saved me. The people, the children, the purpose. I poured all of myself into the center and the kids there.”

  “They needed you.”

  She shrugged. “I’m not saying it was healthy and, in hindsight I was definitely avoiding dealing with my grief by burying myself in work, but in time I found a measure of healing.”

  “A measure?”

  The throb of a wound covered by a fresh scab pulsed in her heart. Forgiveness was so new. Even after six years she hadn’t found complete absolution and release. But unlike days ago, she now possessed faith she would one day.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “A measure.”

  He slowly nodded. “You still love him.”

  The statement contained no accusation or anger—no emotion at all. But the deliberate emptiness declared more than a speech.

  Gwendolyn tipped her head back to stare at the crisp blue sky. Two birds soaring through the clouds snagged her attention. One hovered a short distance behind the other as if promising to catch its mate if it fell. She yearned for the same security, commitment and trust. The assurance that when she faltered, love would buoy her up.

  “I’ll always miss him,” she stated, choosing her words with care. “He was my best friend, my first relationship. He gave me the stability my mother never did. For his friendship he will always hold a special place in my heart.” She tightened her grip on the saddle horn as the last part—the hardest part—of her admission arrived. “But I don’t hold a torch for him. Nothing is preventing me from caring for someone again. I want to…love.”

  “But you haven’t been with anyone.” Xavier shifted behind her and pressed closer. The stiff column of his cock pushed into her lower back and, though he only held her close, liquid need pooled between her legs. “Your actions don’t show you’re ready, Gwen.”

  She lowered her head. How could she respond to that? Not with the truth.

  “Seven years,” he wondered aloud. “You said it’d been seven years since you’d been with a man. Joshua has been dead for six. Why, sweetheart?”

  Dust coated her mouth and her pulse echoed inside her head like a bass drum. She swiped her tongue over her dry lips and filled her lungs to respond, but nothing emerged. Again, words eluded her. Somehow, I couldn’t abide having sex with your brother any longer since every encounter left me sick with guilt, as if I were cheating on you instead of him, didn’t seem like the appropriate thing to say.

  “Gwen?”

  “We agreed to be celibate a year before we married.” Partly true. She’d requested it and Josh had agreed. At the time, she’d been shocked
at his acquiescence. But had he suspected her love for Xavier even then?

  “I always thought Josh was a saint,” he murmured, switching the leather reins to one hand and lifting the other to her cheek. A gust of breath shuddered from between her lips as he trailed the backs of his fingers over her skin. Her lashes fluttered closed as love squeezed her heart. “Now I have clear evidence. He must’ve had a fucking halo to agree. There’s no way I could have you and not be inside you at any given opportunity.”

  Molten heat throbbed in her core as if the hard thrust of his cock filled her, stretched her. The rhythmic rise and fall of the horse beneath her did nothing to alleviate the ache. The mare’s gait inflamed the need, stoked it until her breathing grew shallow and she shivered with the longing to touch and be touched.

  Xavier called to the horse and drew back on the reins. As the mare halted, Gwendolyn glanced around a lovely glen with a small brook running next to it. The quiet peace of the oasis called to her as Xavier dismounted, and she didn’t utter a protest when he gripped her waist and lifted her from the saddle.

  “This is beautiful.” She smiled at him over her shoulder. Several quick steps brought her to the clear water. It babbled over the dark bed of the creek and the cleverly placed stepping stones leading to the stretch of vibrant green on the other side. “How did you find it?”

  He stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I’ve spent a lot of time out here.” Again, the carefully neutral voice.

  She turned away from the idyllic scene and studied him. Though he stood motionless, power emanated from his still form. His vitality tugged at her like a siren song. She’d crashed on the shores of his desire, had drowned under the waves of his passion. And she longed for a repeat performance.

  Gwendolyn’s gaze clashed with his narrowed regard. “My turn.”

  Xavier lifted both brows, but remained silent. Even when she retraced her steps across the grass, halted before him and raised a hand to his face—the left side. She gave him credit. He almost managed to stifle his flinch as she neared the scar. If she hadn’t been scrutinizing him so closely, she would’ve missed the nearly imperceptible jerk.