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Professor X

Page 22

by Kiki Leach


  "Yeah," he said, his tone casual as he shrugged. "You think everything I've done up to this point and plan to do beyond it would mean otherwise?"

  "I don't know. With everything that's been going on since you came back... or since I came back to you, we haven't exactly discussed what all of this means for us again." I looked aside and dropped my hands. "So what does it mean?"

  "Means this shit is it for me, darlin'. Thought you fuckin' knew."

  "Maybe I need to have it spelled out."

  "Yeah?" He stepped in front of me and slinked an arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest as his fingers grazed my skin beneath my blouse. "How's this shit for spellin' out?" I gasped and instinctively threw my arms around his neck, pushing my fingers into his hair and licking my lips in anticipation of tasting him again. His face lowered to mine as he brushed the tip of my nose against his own. "I want you on the back of my bike for as long as you wanna keep your sexy ass ridin' there."

  I grinned. "You mean that?"

  "Goddamn yeah." He kissed me again and for the second time, I felt it straight to my sex. "You good?" he asked while leaning away from me.

  "Mm." I rolled my bottom lip into my mouth to suckle his taste and nodded. "I would be much better if you took me back to bed."

  He chortled. "Right fuckin' now? We ain't even finished discussin' this other shit--"

  "We can finish later," I said, reaching for the collar of his shirt. "You'll end up doing what I want for you anyway."

  "You fuckin' think so, darlin'?" His brow arched as his arm tightened. "You even packed up for my place yet?"

  "Yes. The bag on the table is one of two. The other is in my bedroom."

  I dropped my hands to his waist and pushed them beneath his shirt, scaling my fingers along his muscles and tattoos while helping to lift the shirt above his head.

  As it fell to the floor, he grunted. "Goddamn." I wrapped my hand around his belt, brushing my thumb across the metal of his buckle until he pushed his hands behind my thighs and lifted me from the floor.

  I wrapped my legs around his waist and fell against him, pressing my breasts against his chest and wrapping my hands around his face. I stared into his eyes with a pleasure unmatched by his own. "I'll love you forever," I said. "And I need you to remain safe for me, X; from now until the end."

  He bobbed his head and glanced at my throat, taking note of my pulse as it thumped. "'Fore you came back to me, I didn't think shit 'bout bein' 'safe', darlin'; didn't think I'd ever need a reason for it beyond the club -- my brotherhood. You gave me a reason to wanna give a damn beyond all that shit again."

  "Good." I slinked my arms back around his neck and pulled him close. "But I'll be waiting on that official ride from you as confirmation for it."

  He snickered and slapped his hand across my behind while carrying me into the bedroom. "Baby, you're 'bout to fuckin' get it."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Xavier

  A few days later, Xavier arrived in front of Wexley's University Center with Cheddar acting as his personal chauffeur.

  "Jesus." He removed the folder carrying his resume from the glove compartment and groaned. "Shit feels like the first goddamn day of school."

  "Yep." Cheddar shifted the gear of his truck into 'park' and gripped the steering wheel, then glanced over at his brother and snickered. "And your ass is already gettin' sent straight to the goddamn principal's office for bad fuckin' behavior." Xavier held back a chuckle of his own and shook his head. "You remember the shit Gabi said about this motherfucker in case you're gonna need it?"

  "Yeah, 'cause I got the feelin' I won't have much choice but to throw it back in his goddamn face. Wearin' black slacks that make my ass look like a fuckin' peach and a matchin' long sleeved shirt to cover my tats can't hide the truth as soon as my mouth flies open."

  He shrugged. "Least your hair's pulled back at your goddamn neck."

  "Mariah ain't a fan of that shit and I can barely fuckin' walk in a pair of shoes that ain't boots without lookin' like they don't fit my fuckin' frame."

  "Brother, you can try changin' some of that shit up or at least minimize the hell out of it by not sayin' a whole goddamn lot while you're up in there."

  "Motherfucker, that's the entire point of an interview -- talkin', and about yourself," he shot back. "Listen, don't roll too far off from here lookin' for pussy or some shit, alright? Bein' in there with this fucker shouldn't last longer than thirty goddamn minutes."

  "You got it. Not thinkin' too much about other pussy lately as it is."

  "Yeah?" X eyed him curiously and smirked. "This Kyla bitch really gettin' you all the way fucked up like that?"

  "Might be."

  "Hm... She still ain't mentioned anything 'bout LapDog tryin' to sniff around her again?"

  "Nope. But she still ain't spendin' too much time on campus anymore outside of class either, and he ain't been callin' to see about her as far as I know."

  "You need to get more concrete with that shit, brother," he said. "'Cause we need to keep makin' sure for a goddamn fact that the asshole continues to keep his distance as far as she's concerned now that y'all are hookin' up like that."

  Cheddar nodded. "I get that shit with the T-Bone factor. We still got the tail on him though, and Kyla told me this mornin' that the new pussy has been takin' him for enough spins to light a whole goddamn Ferris Wheel on fire."

  "Alright, good. Prez said he got another prospect on T-Bone since that last asshole keepin' watch couldn't keep his dick zipped up long enough to alert a motherfucker 'bout Mariah showin' up on their compound."

  "That prick seemed like he wasn't worth shit when he first rolled into the club totin' a goddamn water pistol; but with T askin' your girl to come work for him, she got more info for us to dig into with that asshole, which was what we needed."

  "Yeah, brother, maybe."

  "Fact, X," he replied. "We all know you ain't a fan of the shit, brother, but Mariah continues to be a good goddamn asset to the club; even better than before she took off."

  "Yeah, she's had time to learn more shit." Xavier sucked in a breath as his face reddened, and grumbled. "What the fuck 'bout your girl?" he asked. "She gonna be good for the club now too? Good for your ass beyond all the dick suckin'?"

  Cheddar tugged at his hoodie and grinned wide enough to crack a pair of dimples in his cheeks as they flushed. "I'm likin' her alot is what I know right now," he said. "She's smart and shit -- More than just the same kinda pussy always rollin' through between parties and weekends."

  "You tell her what the deal is on alot of the other shit so far?"

  "Not yet. She ain't all that happy with us bein' involved with coke, but she ain't too ready to slice my dick off about it either like she mighta been with LapDog." His grin deepened. "She can give me shit like nobody else I ever met before on everything else; bitch matches me on alot and don't take too much shit for herself."

  Xavier bobbed his head and made a face. "Sounds like the makin's of a good one. Which means I gotta ask if you thinkin' 'bout her becomin' permanent pussy? Keepin' her 'round long enough to put on the back of your goddamn bike?"

  "I think the shit's comin'. Caught her lookin' at my cut the other night -- tryin' that shit on when she thought I was still in the shower. Seein' that leather pressed up against her tits like that and the edge of it sittin' just below that plump, tight ass -- fuck; that chocolate skin gets my cock rock solid every goddamn time like a motherfucker; just smooth. as. shit. Outside of the coke, I figure she likes the idea of bein' somewhat into the club; talks about how she likes my tats and whatnot -- doesn't mind rollin' through with me when I've gotta make a stop for church or somethin' else for Prez and Trac. The random pussy always sniffin' me out makes her wanna cut a bitch, but... maybe Mariah can teach her what it's all about; show her more of the ropes in how to become a proper ol' lady."

  X barked with laugher and reached for the handle on his door. "Ain't a goddamn thing 'proper' or 'typical' 'bout Mari
ah when it comes to bein' an ol' lady, motherfucker. Everybody inside the walls of that goddamn club and beyond it knows that shit."

  "She knows what the fuck it means to be loyal to you -- to the brotherhood. She understands about shit she can't know and doesn't throw a goddamn fit about it; and when you tell her what she needs to know, she ain't ready to bolt on your ass like the rest; bitch tries helpin' us all out with what she can instead -- Rocka, T-Bone, doesn't seem to fuckin' matter, never really did." He paused. "She's always been the one for you, brother; your better fuckin' half. Glad you linkin' up with her again finally got you realizin' that shit." He dropped a reassuring hand on top of X's shoulder and nodded. "She headin' down to the club tonight for Rider's birthday party with the rest of 'em? I'm bringin' Kyla."

  "Yeah, she's rollin' through with Gabi to help set up 'fore the rest of us get there; said she's missed seein' you assholes; can't fuckin' figure out why." He snorted. "Maybe she can talk to your girl 'bout how often she'll need to keep that cut on for herself with her goddamn clothes off while she's there."

  "How many times she put yours on for you?"

  "Not e-fuckin'-nough, brother. Not enough. See you back here in a bit, yeah?"

  After hopping out of the truck and watching Cheddar take off from the parking lot, Xavier clutched his folder and hurried inside the building.

  While the eyes of every woman walking past him managed to follow his every move with desire, tugging at the corners of their mouths and lifting their breasts with the hope he would take notice, he ignored them with a snicker and followed the signs leading to the area of Pugh's office, stopping near an occupied front desk and tapping his fingers along the edge. "'Scuse me, darlin'."

  "Wha--?" The woman seated behind the desk sucked in a breath while admiring his chiseled face and ocean blue his eyes as they twinkled beneath the lights. "Damn." She rolled her eyes toward the phone inside her hand and pressed her mouth against the speaker. "I'll call you back." After hanging up, she returned to his gaze, then scaled the bulk of his frame and anxiously bit her lip. "May I help you?"

  "Yeah, darlin', I'm here to see a motherfucker named Pugh?"

  She nearly swallowed her tongue as she guffawed. "Excuse me?"

  "Sorry." Xavier caught himself after noticing the look of shock in her eyes and cleared his throat. "My language slipped."

  "That's okay." She giggled. "Do you have an appointment?"

  He nodded. "Xavier Stevenson. Here to see Pugh 'bout the puss -- Home Economics position. It's still open, yeah?"

  "As far as I know. The two women being heavily considered dropped out for personal reasons. Let me see." She turned to her computer and tapped into an open schedule. After a few seconds, the screen flipped to a set of appointments lined up for the remainder of the week; she nodded and lifted her eyes back to his with a smile. "Okay, I see that you're here on time for an interview with Dr. Pugh." She dropped her hand on top of the phone, lifting it from the hook. "Let me call to let him know--"

  "Where's his office, darlin'?"

  "Erm." A rattle shot through her system as he glared. She lowered the phone back down to the base and leaned forward, pointing toward a door near the end of the hallway. "His name is at the center in bright gold letters. Just knock first."

  "Thanks."

  After passing a few closed doors and empty rooms, Xavier stopped directly in front of Pugh's office and lifted his hand to knock.

  "Who is it?" a scratchy, aggravated voice called to him from the other side.

  "Xavier Stevenson," he replied. "I'm here for that 2pm interview?"

  A long silence followed before Pugh cleared his throat.

  "Come in."

  Once he moved inside and closed the door, Xavier noticed a short, balding man with pale skin and light red whiskers covering the base of his chin sitting behind an elongated wooden desk, stacked to his elbows with papers.

  As tiny beads of sweat formed across his forehead and dripped along the sides of his face, circling his neck and collar of his blue checkered shirt, he dragged his dark brown eyes to Xavier's face and arched his brows in frightened shock. "You're Xavier Stevenson?" he questioned.

  "Yeah." Xavier stepped forward and dropped his folder on top of a set of papers before taking a seat in front of Pugh's desk. "Was told you were gonna need my resume -- it's in there." He pointed. "Along with anything else you might need -- I've got a clean ass record and all that."

  He glared. "A 'clean ass record'?" Pugh snatched the folder from the front of his desk while quietly scoffing at Xavier's language and flipped it open. He shoved his hand inside a drawer and grabbed a pair of glasses, placing the frames atop the tip of his nose and peering while skimming between the lines of each page. "Let's see, it says here that you went to Northeast High School in Oklahoma City for two years before dropping out during your junior year to become a full-time mechanic at Petey's Garage in Broken Bow?"

  X nodded. "My old man was a mechanic and we needed the money more than I needed school at the time; said I was better with my hands, so why the fuck not."

  "It doesn't look like you ever went back to finish or earned your GED?"

  "Didn't need it. My mother had me helpin' her bake all kinds of shit, from cookies and cakes and taught me how sell it to the neighborhood from inside her kitchen on days I didn't have to work at the garage. Realized with the right amount of charm and sweet talkin', I could make more money doin' that kinda shit over whatever the fuck I could go back to school for."

  Pugh cleared his throat again and deeply inhaled; becoming uncomfortable, he shifted in his chair and frowned. "If you believe all of that and from what else I can see in this resume, never attended a single University within or outside the state of Oklahoma in the last fifteen or so years, what has suddenly led you to the path of becoming a teacher?"

  "Wanna try somethin' different," he replied. "After the bakery's burned down, I kinda lost my path, you know? Kinda lost my purpose and all that. My mother died in between me tryin' to figure shit out too, and uh..." He stopped and swallowed hard before continuing on. "Anyway, her teachin' is what led to me cookin' more than the average motherfucker -- sewin' too and all kinds of other domestic shit. Figured I could show a few more how to do the same 'fore they got too far out in the real world. Maybe help get 'em some girls or somethin' with a pot pie and needlepoint -- who knows."

  Pugh looked into the hardness of X's face as wonder swirled across his own, and soured. "Your class would be filled with 95% of women for every hour. At best, there would be five men per class."

  "Hm, yeah?" Xavier looked aside with the attempt to hide his smirk and shrugged. "Well, maybe if I get the gig lookin' like I do, a few more might show up. Maybe see that cookin' ain't just for the puss -- the women on this campus and what not."

  "I am not entirely sure how many would be willing to show up in spite of your appearance, Mr. Stevenson."

  X fell back against the head of his chair and crossed his arms. "There anything else you're lookin' to ask me 'bout all this shit?"

  "Why would someone burn down your bakery's?"

  "Jealousy is a motherfucker in a small ass town," he shot back. "The asshole who did it -- God rest his soul and all that -- was pissed when I started makin' money after openin' my first one in McLoud with the help of a few friends, then damn near stalked my ass 'round the state and beyond it as I opened more. I was also incorporatin' breakfast, lunch and dinner food between all the sweets in order to give people some balance. Shit was how I was able to expand from one bakery to eight."

  "Seven," he replied.

  X glowered and blinked once. "What?"

  "Seven." Pugh dragged the fatty tip of his index finger along the edge of the page and narrowed his eyes. "It says here that you had seven bakery's at the time they burned down. Not eight."

  "I was workin' on another that was burned down 'fore it could get up and runnin' in an official sense; shit wouldn't count for a resume, yeah?"

  A skeptical Pugh sh
ook his head as Xavier dropped his arms and flexed his fingers, opening and closing each one to make a pair of fists.

  Pugh's eyes lowered to his knuckles as he gulped. "If you don't mind sitting up?" he questioned.

  Xavier scoffed. "Don't think I'm teachin' a class 'bout how to sit properly in a goddamn chair?"

  "You would be teaching something about human interaction; families, communities, the environment and how to sit properly in a chair; this course is much more than baking and needlepoint, Mr. Stevenson, it's about learning how to manage a home."

  "That's why you were lookin' for puss -- women to take over? Listen, I've been managin' my own goddamn home since before I could drink."

  "You've been doing that alone?" Pugh bent forward and folded his arms on top of the desk in frustration, placing one hand on top of the other as he eyed Xavier from the top of his head to the tips of his black suede shoes. "Not sure those would be a recommendation for the summer."

  "Ain't the goddamn summer yet," he retorted. "And I didn't fuckin' ask."

  Pugh closed the folder and pushed it aside. "Is the language you use a normality for you, Mr. Stevenson?"

  "What the fuck is that shit supposed to mean?" he spat.

  "I don't mean anything other than..." Pugh waved his hand between them and wrinkled his nose. "Is this your everyday demeanor? The way that you speak and react to people? Because I'm not entirely sure how well you would be received upon stepping into a classroom full of women looking to make scrambled eggs and chicken tartare between your constant F-bombs and loaded attempts to keep from using the word 'pussy' in place of women. Don't think I'm an idiot."

  "Maybe you're not, but bein' an asshole seems pretty close so far. And truth be told, a motherfucker like me could do a whole helluva lot worse in the language department," he replied. "Guessin' from the way you keep holdin' back from shootin' outta the goddamn mouth, you could too."

  "You know what, Mr. Stevenson, I appreciate you coming in to see me about this position, but truth be told, I don't believe this is going to work out between us--"

 

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