by Skye Jordan
My heart flips, folds, and twists. Oh, yeah. I’m completely gone over her.
She slides her arms around my middle, bright blue eyes locked with mine. “So do you, Officer Wilde. So do you.”
We kiss again, and I lose track of time. Then Chloe’s panting as she pulls the tails of my button-down from my pants and works open my belt. The feel of it, the sight of it, sends a surge of lust through my already primed body. “I guess we’re going to be late.”
“Just a little,” she says, breathless as she slides her hand around my erection. “I haven’t been able to think about anything but you, and I’m so hungry.”
Before I can respond, she moves my clothes aside to free my cock, drops into a crouch, then rests on her knees and licks the length of my shaft with a look of bliss on her beautiful face.
Pleasure floods my groin. Jolts of electricity shoot through me, shoulders to knees. Her tongue circles the head again and again, her hot gaze on mine. I grip the counter with one hand and slide my other into her hair.
“Fuck, Chloe,” I rasp through clenched teeth. And before I can say more, she slides my entire length into her mouth until I’m pressed against her throat. “God damn, you’re good at this.”
She closes her eyes with a look of bliss, as if she loves the taste of me, and pumps the head of my cock into the stricture of her throat.
Her eyes open and watch me with heavy-lidded heat as she slowly and deeply fucks her mouth with my cock, licking and sucking.
My hand fists in her hair. I’m trembling with need when she releases me from her mouth, only to close her small hand around my wet shaft.
“Baby, you gotta… I’m gonna… Fuck.”
I reach down, grip her arms, and pull her to her feet. Then off her feet. She wraps her thighs at my hips, and I carry her into the bedroom, still kissing her until neither of us can breathe.
But I don’t lay her on the bed. I press her back against the wall and pull a condom from the nightstand drawer—easier than trying to mess with my wallet. She takes the condom from me, tears it open and, in her haste to roll it on, fumbles a little. I love knowing she wants me so badly, she can’t keep her shit together.
I’m about to put her down to drag off her panties when she moves the lace aside and rubs the head of my cock through her wet folds. My mind goes white with pleasure, and even before she releases me, I thrust.
She makes a noise in her throat—part pleasure, part surprise, and presses her face to my shoulder. Then she turns her head and whispers, “Fuck me” at my ear.
Fire licks through my veins, and I obey. I grip her ass and lean into the thrust. Delicious sounds roll in her throat. “Don’t stop, so good.”
I’m high. Completely out of my mind. Everything around me evaporates. I lift her until only the head of my cock is inside her, then let her body weight drop, impaling her with my cock.
“Oh my God, yes.” Her last word is a hiss of need.
Her nails dig into my shoulders, a bite I can feel even through my shirt. I repeat the move, reveling in her pleasure. Her whimpers slide into my ear and encompass my brain. I feel her shatter, her pussy squeeze and spill, but I don’t stop. She bites my shoulder as another orgasm rises and crashes.
Her muscles go soft until she’s hanging on my neck, one hand fisted in my hair. “Jesus Christ…”
She’s deliciously slick, giving me the luscious combination of a wet slide and tight grip, and I wish I could hold out all night. I’m just about to let go when she says, “Wait.” She drops her forehead against my shoulder and rocks her pelvis against mine. “Just one more? I need one more so I’m not thinking about it all during dinner.”
I grit my teeth and pull my head back to look at her, dumbfounded. “Is this the celibacy effect?”
“I think it’s just the Xavier effect.”
“There is a God,” I murmur.
She smiles, kisses my neck, then bites me. “Please?”
“Don’t ever let it be said that I didn’t give you what you wanted.” I pull from her body and lower her to her feet and drop to my knees, because there’s no way I’d hold out long enough to give her another orgasm with that tight pussy surrounding me.
I hold her gaze as I slide my hands up her thighs, then let her panties drop to the floor. I lift one thigh over my shoulder, and the other, so she’s off her feet. I grip her ass and steady her against the wall, then slide my hands toward her thighs and use my thumbs to part her labia before burrowing my tongue into the plump, slick folds until I find the very center of her clit, swollen and peeking out from beneath its hood.
I start with long, slow licks and watch her eyes roll back, her back arches, her hips lift, silently begging for more. But I stay in control, lovingly stroking and sucking until she pushes off the wall and writhes. Then combs her fingers into my hair and holds my head as she lifts.
I lick again, long and slow. Then I draw circles with my tongue. Her chest rises with quick, shallow breaths, her eyes heavy lidded. She’s so fucking beautiful, it hurts.
Her clit is the size of a small grape now, and all she needs is just the right amount of pressure to implode, but having her at my mercy, begging for what I’ve been dreaming of delivering, is completely intoxicating. I love this sense of finally having caught a woman who has bobbed and weaved away from me for over a year.
She lifts her fingers to her lips, sliding two of them along her lower lip, her gaze on me. I tense my tongue and flick it back and forth against the raw nub. Every muscle in Chloe’s body tenses, and her sounds of pleasure rise in pitch.
Just when I feel the very first tremor, I close my lips around the hot button and suck. She cries out, her hips buck against my mouth, and her hands fist in my hair as ecstasy quakes through her. Even as the thrill quiets, I keep licking and sucking until another round of wild quakes makes her cry out. And just because I can’t fucking stop myself, I slide two fingers deep into her heat and stroke the ridges of her G-spot while I suck her off a third time.
When she finally goes limp, I let her slide down the wall and right onto my lap, where I bury my cock into her relaxed, slick heat.
We are going to be so late.
13
Chloe
Xavier holds my hand on the drive to the restaurant. I’m…seriously mellow. He sates my body so completely, I feel wrung out and utterly satisfied. He also leaves me craving more.
Maybe it is the celibacy effect. I certainly can’t remember ever wanting someone with the force I want Xavier. On some level, I think I expected that to be the case, which is also why I waited so long to give in. Because I knew once I had him, I wouldn’t want to let him go. And he’s most definitely not the type to stay monogamous.
As much as that hooks into my existing insecurities, it’s best to be prepared for him to move on. I’ll have to wait to see how I feel then, to decide whether or not we can remain friends. It’s not like we ever talked about the women he was dating before this. At least, not extensively. So it wouldn’t be weird not to talk about them after, would it?
Only, my heart is now in the mix. And, damn, that makes everything so messy.
“Hey,” he says softly and squeezes my hand. “Don’t fall asleep.”
Laughter bubbles out of me. “If I do, it’s your fault.”
He pulls to the curb in front of Wildfire Brewery, shuts down the truck, and clicks open his seat belt, then takes my face in both hands and looks at me like I’m precious before he kisses me. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?”
I sober and meet his eyes. Really meet them and see him. I swear I can see into his soul, and if I didn’t know him like I do, I could make myself believe he really loves me. Beyond friends. But I do know him, and I don’t need another shattered heart, so I kiss him and slide from the truck.
He immediately takes my hand and looks up at the brewery’s sign as he heads toward the front door. “I’m starving now, thanks to you.”
I smile. “Hmm, same.”
&nb
sp; He grabs the handle of the front door, and I put my hand over his. “Wait.”
He does, scanning my face with a worried look.
“I just, you know, want to keep this to ourselves, okay?”
“That’s a tightrope, isn’t it? Make others believe we’re together while making your closest friends believe it’s just pretend?”
I wince. “When did I become so irrationally high maintenance?”
He laughs, cups my cheek, and looks at me with the softest expression I’ve ever seen on his face. “I’ve got you.”
And he kisses me again. This man so easily sweeps me off my feet.
Inside, the restaurant is a dizzying whirl of controlled chaos. Every table is filled, and we find the others in a large rear booth shaped in a half circle. Before we reach the table, both Xavier and I are stopped several times to chat with locals.
At the table, everyone already has drinks. Ben’s two older girls, Poppy and Violet, are spaced out among the group, working on a children’s coloring sheet. Jazz is using the space under the table to move easily between people and be a silly six-year-old.
As we approach, Jazz pokes her head out from beneath the table with an adorable smile. “Hi, Chloe. Hi, Z.”
“Aren’t doing anything illegal under there, are you?” Xavier teases.
He gets a giggle and an emphatic “Noooooo” in return. Then she looks up at her dad. “Can we do presents now?”
Ben laughs. “Not yet.”
Xavier lets me slide into the booth first.
“What held you two up?” Laiyla asks. “Everything okay with the retreat?”
“It wasn’t the retreat that held them up,” KT says with a smirk.
“Oh my God,” I say. “Don’t start.”
I can feel my cheeks heat and try to cover for it by looking at the menu. Xavier stretches one arm across the back of the booth behind me, picks up a strand of my hair, and twirls it around his finger while he chats with the others.
“Well, look who’s come out from under a rock.” I glance up and find Charity Holmes, and evidently our waitress, hyperfocused on Xavier. “Where you been, handsome?”
She’s in her early twenties with all that Generation Z glowy skin, perky breasts, and crazy confidence. I heard they hooked up a few times, and Xavier didn’t deny it when I asked, which means it’s true. Now I wonder just how many is a few? I wonder if he slept over, or if he just left after the sex. I wonder how good that sex was. Is he a stud with everyone, or is it different with me?
Then, right on cue, self-loathing links arms with jealousy. I don’t hear what Xavier says to her, there’s too much ugly noise in my head.
Everyone in town knows Xavier and I are just friends. There may be a few people who’ve heard we might be dating, but that doesn’t seem to have reached Charity.
I used to find all the female attention he received amusing. Used to rib him about who he was sleeping with. But now, that someone is me, and my insecurity rears its ugly head like a fire-breathing dragon.
I’m not pretty enough, I’m not young enough, I’m not flirty enough, I’m not exciting enough, I’m not smart enough. I’m not enough enough.
Before I can stop it, my mind flashes with snapshots of Xavier doing exactly what he did with me less than half an hour ago, only now he’s doing it all with Charity.
Even though I recognize this as a bad habit stemming from Bodhi’s betrayal, I can’t control the pain that stabs my gut. In the hateful fog, I can’t remember why Xavier and I are pretending. Or why we agreed to stop pretending. Or why I agreed to this in the first place.
I squeeze my eyes closed, quickly center myself—something I can do in seconds after years of practice—and banish my ego to the dungeon. Still, its slimy footprints remain, so I look at Charity, her perfect grin beaming at Xavier, and catalogue everything I like about her.
“That green is a beautiful color on you,” I say honestly.
Complimenting people I’m intensely jealous of is the fastest way I’ve found to pull my vibration up from the basement. It’s also something I can do honestly, making it that much more positive and powerful.
Her gaze leaves Xavier’s, and her smile turns on me—along with every other gaze at the table, sans the kids. Laiyla and KT know what I’m doing and why, which only makes me more self-conscious.
“Thank you,” she says.
“Really brings out your eyes.”
She looks down at her shirt, then does one of those adorable slightly self-conscious shifts on her feet. “I never thought about that. Thanks. My mom raves about your hot yoga classes.”
“Good to hear.”
“What can I get you to drink?” she asks.
Strongest thing you’ve got, and make it a double. “Soda water, please.”
“Absolutely.” She takes Xavier’s drink order, then taps his shoulder with the order pad and shoots him a flirty “Call me.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but she’s long gone, weaving her way through customers and tables. Xavier lets the breath slide from his lungs, and while he doesn’t look at me, I can read the fuck-me expression on his face.
“What’s everyone getting?” I ask, my gaze on the menu.
Ben and Levi answer, followed by the kids. Laiyla and KT know I’m making conversation to divert attention. Xavier’s hand slides beneath my hair and gives my neck a gentle squeeze.
After we order, everyone settles into comfortable conversation. We’ve all got a lot in common, so we can talk for hours. Having the kids here is nice because I’m so easily distracted by their preciousness. But we can barely have one full conversation without people coming to the table to say hello or chat—to Levi about building projects, to Laiyla about the wedding, to Ben about health or the girls, to KT about anything marine or mechanical, to me about the retreat or the studio, and to Xavier about dates.
By the time the third woman hits him up for a phone call, I’ve maneuvered Jazz between him and me to get some relief from his touch while I help her play the games on the kid’s coloring sheet.
I’m already convinced this is going to be the longest dinner in history when Sienna Peyton stops at the table after spending a little too much time at the bar. She’s a divorced mother of two, and I know she has her hands full. She totally deserves a night off. Even deserves some great sex. But every woman to hit on Xavier drops my self-esteem another notch.
Do I purposely choose the kind of men other women want? Or do I somehow scream date me, you’ll totally get away with cheating? Then again, maybe there is something deep in my psyche that I haven’t dealt with which causes this to happen.
I focus all my brain cells on finding C-A-T in the word search with Jazz, when I feel Xavier’s hand slide over my hair.
“Actually, I’m off the market,” he tells Sienna. “Chloe and I are seeing each other.”
My gaze darts to Xavier, and a zing courses down my spine, but I’m not sure if it’s a good zing or a bad zing.
“Really?” she says, as if he’s told her he was dating a unicorn.
“Really,” he says.
“I thought you two would never figure that out,” she says, then slaps his shoulder. “Good for you.”
And she moves on.
Xavier slides me a see-we-should-have-done-this-sooner look that makes me smile.
“You won’t have to put up with women hitting on him much anymore,” KT says. “That news will be all over Wildfire by morning.”
“I had to deal with it when I started dating Levi again,” Laiyla says, and smiles at her fiancé. “Women kept coming out of the woodwork. Now, I only have to tolerate the long-suffering looks of women wishing they were in my shoes.”
That makes KT laugh. “And if you’ll remember, it wasn’t all that long ago that I was exactly like Z,” she says, turning her gaze on Ben. “Look at me now, all monogamous and sh—stuff.”
I laugh at her almost slip.
“What’s mogomus?” Poppy asks, drawing a round of la
ughter.
“I’ll tell you later,” Ben says, satisfying his daughter for the moment.
Dinner is delivered before I have to address the comments, but it definitely gives me something to think about while we’re eating. I’m feeling more relaxed by the time three slices of chocolate cake are delivered to the table, each with a lit candle.
Everyone in the restaurant stops what they’re doing to sing happy birthday to us, then the three of us make our wishes and blow out our candles.
“What did you wish for?” Violet, Ben’s oldest daughter, asks KT.
“Forever with you,” she says, tapping Violet’s nose, then Poppy’s, “and you,” then Jazz’s, “and you.”
Ben lifts his arms, a what-about-me look on his face. KT tilts her head to kiss him. “You’re stuck with me.”
Poppy takes a sloppy forkful of KT’s slice of cake while bouncing in her seat. “Presents now!”
Ben and Levi both produce thin small boxes for KT and Laiyla, and I smile in anticipation of seeing what the guys got them.
“Everyone has to open them at the same time,” Jazz says. “Chloe, take yours.”
When I look at Jazz, I find Xavier offering me the same box, his smile soft. “Happy birthday.”
Everything inside me melts. “Aw, you didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.”
The three of us unwrap the gifts and draw out three identical silver necklaces. They have dainty chains and three interconnected ovals in the center, which I know represents Laiyla, KT, and me.
My heart skips, and I press a hand to my chest. “Oh, wow.” I smile at Xavier. “This is so sweet. It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
He waves gimme fingers, and I hand him the necklace so he can fasten it around my neck, just as Ben does for KT and Levi does for Laiyla. When it’s in place, Xavier cups my face and kisses me.
Dinner may have started out rough, but it definitely ends on a high note. And I’m looking forward to the sleepless night he promised.
14
