by Pratt, Lulu
Either way, we’d make good partners. Good friends. And it didn’t need to be more complicated than that.
I settled back in my seat as the lights flashed and the orchestra coalesced in a flurry of sounds, beginning to pluck the first chords of the opera.
Throughout all of the first act, I fidgeted like a child, unable to concentrate on the sopranos and tenors — too occupied was I with thoughts of matrimony. At intermission, I made my excuses — something about a business dinner, I hardly remember — and ducked out with the rush of the crowd, emerging gratefully into the street.
That was better. I took a deep gulp of air.
Sometime during a high C and an E flat, I’d made a decision.
Taking out my phone, I dialed Chloe.
She picked up in one ring.
“Xavier?”
“Chloe, can we get dinner?”
She hesitated. “When?”
“Tonight.”
“The usual?”
“Yeah.”
Much to my surprise, she didn’t ask for any more details. “I’ll see you there in thirty minutes.”
“Talk to you soon.”
It was that easy. I hung up and dialed the restaurant.
The hostess answered, and I quickly made a few arrangements. I almost made a third call — this time, to the limo driver — but I figured I’d let my father have the limo for the night. A cab would suffice for me.
I flagged down the nearest one and gave them directions to Chloe’s and my spot.
Was the choice I’d made a terrible one?
And if it was, did I care?
Whatever, it was too late. The time for regrets had passed. My father had instructed me to commit to my beliefs. And I believed in what I was about to do.
About twenty-five minutes later, I was inside our restaurant.
I looked around. Not a patron in sight. Good.
“Thank you for agreeing to rent out the space to me on such short notice,” I said as the hostess came around to greet me.
“For you, sir, anything.” She smiled. “You’re one of our favorite customers, and it’s good to see you again.”
That made sense. Before I’d stopped coming here after Chloe, I’d been coming here for years, and I was a pretty sizable tipper to boot.
“In any case, I appreciate it.”
“Will you be dining alone?”
“No, my date… I mean friend — will be here any minute.”
“Of course.” She gestured to the booths. “Take any seat you like.” She giggled, realizing how silly this sounded, given that I’d bought out the restaurant for the night.
I smiled, and slid into the usual booth. It wasn’t the fanciest one, but it was ours.
I stared at my watch. Just a few more minutes, then she’d be here. A few more minutes.
In no time, I heard the jade curtains rustle and turned to see Chloe striding through.
She was wearing a thin slip of a dress, some satiny material with tiny straps that seemed to be held up by sheer will. If I didn’t know better, I’d have assumed it was lingerie. Atop it was a moto jacket, and on her feet, black boots. I marveled at her ability to pull off such contrasts of masculinity and femininity. It was a talent few possessed.
Chloe joined me at the booth, looking around as she did.
“Where is everyone?” she whispered. “Did they get a bad health rating from the city or something? I’ve never seen it so abandoned.”
“Er… no, that’s actually my fault.”
Her brow furrowed even deeper. “You scare off the other customers with your smell?”
“Ha-ha, very funny.” I swallowed, a touch embarrassed at what I was about to say. “No, I… rented it out for the night.”
“What?” Her mouth dropped open. “Why the hell did you do that?”
“I can’t have people seeing us together, Chloe. It’s complicated.”
“It doesn’t sound complicated,” she replied, her shoulders sagging. “It sounds like you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”
“No, it’s not that—”
“Then what’s going on?”
My words, so carefully prepared, spilled out of me in a messy jumble. “I’m not getting married.”
Chloe’s expression morphed from upset to bemused. “Ever? Kind of a strong stance to take, but I guess that’s kind of the chic, modern thing to do these days.”
“No, I mean, I’m not ready to get married. To Rebecca.”
CHAPTER 22
Chloe
WAIT.
What?!
Had Xavier just said what I thought he said?
My mind raced and I involuntarily put a hand over my stomach.
Xavier wasn’t ready to marry Rebecca. Okay, so where the hell did that leave me and the baby? Our baby?
On my way over, I’d been trying to think of why I could be getting summoned by Xavier on such short notice, and I assumed that somehow, in that secret way only rich people can — with a private detective, with bugs in my house, I don’t even know — he’d discovered that I was pregnant. I’d been prepared to defend my decision not to tell him. I’d gone over arguments in my mind.
But here we were. Me and Xavier, who wasn’t getting married. Or not yet, anyway.
“Xavier,” I managed at last. “Why not? Did something happen? Are you okay?”
His eyelids dropped a little lower. “I think you know that something has happened, and is still happening.”
Between us. The words went unsaid, but I heard them as clearly as if Xavier had shouted them to the rooftops. Maybe he couldn’t bring himself to admit the truth, but it didn’t change the facts.
He pushed his mussed hair back and continued, “The only problem — or I should say, one of the many problems — is that now the succession of the company is in question.”
“How so?” I could just barely keep up my end of the conversation, so consumed was I with other thoughts of love, of pregnancy, et cetera.
“Well, Rebecca and I were supposed to marry and then become co-CEOs,” he sighed, sliding his elbows onto the table, his face the picture of internal torment. “And now… now I don’t know.”
“Can’t you do that without getting married?” I asked, just a little too eager, before correcting myself and adding, “Or at least, can’t you delay getting married?”
Xavier, despite himself, looked offended by my tacked-on question, but hid it quickly. Beneath the table, his hips shifted back and forth, as if all he wanted to do was get out and run. That was Xavier, I thought helplessly. Always in motion.
“We need to marry,” he explained. “But I think maybe, if I can just put it off for a little, then…”
“Then what?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seems like the only thing to do.”
Xavier appeared so distraught, I did the only thing I could — made a joke.
“Are you just buying time so that you can stage an even more elaborate proposal? Were Beyoncé and Jay-Z not available on that date?”
If Xavier had been drinking water, I think I would’ve gotten a full spit-take out of him. He chuckled so loudly, the only waiters in the restaurant glanced at us with expressions of concern. In fairness, renting out a whole restaurant so we could make silly jokes was suspicious in any context. I couldn’t blame them for looking.
I loved the sound of Xavier’s laugh — it was deep and throaty, and it felt like something secret — as though you could only get the real thing out of him through time and patience. I loved…
Stop it, I told myself, cutting my brain off before it could finish the sentence. Just because Xavier wasn’t getting married now didn’t mean he wouldn’t. Opening my heart up to more rejection was a dangerous game to play.
Especially if I didn’t know what was in Xavier’s heart.
“Xavier,” I said, sliding my hand further across the table until my fingers were almost touching his. “What’s your heart tell you? If you listen, what
does it say?”
His brown eyes studied mine as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. For a long moment, it was as though we weren’t just the only two people in the restaurant — we were the only two people in the world.
But then Xavier looked away, turning his high cheek to me as he stared out into the empty room, his lips parting.
“I don’t know,” he murmured. “I’m trying to hear, but it’s just a bunch of noise.”
I could see that he was getting frustrated and upset, so I moved my hand further across the table until it rested on his, in a gesture of friendship — or at least, that’s what I told myself.
His head immediately whipped back to mine, his eyes landing first on our touching hands, and then — with bald-faced confusion — on my face.
He flipped his hand over so that our palms touched, and grasped my wrist in his fingers, pulling me closer.
I gasped in astonishment, but didn’t fight back as Xavier tugged me in to him. In an instant, our lips were touching.
This kiss felt different. The others had been wild, and unsure, and a little crazy. This one was urgent, as if it were us against the world, and the hour hand was about to touch midnight. This was a kiss with a looming, terrifying sense of finality.
I leaned into the kiss, pressing tighter to Xavier, convinced that if his arms could just hold me tight, nothing would ever be able to touch us. His lips moved around mine, silently pleading for me to let him in, just this once more.
I felt a stirring in my womb. I knew, logically, that it was far too soon for the baby to be moving. Maybe it was just my heart beating a mile a minute. But it felt like something more… like a sign.
Xavier’s hand cupped my cheek as he pulled away just far enough to murmur, “Wanna get out of here?”
Maybe it was the giddiness of the moment, but I laughed. “Out of the restaurant you just rented?”
His lip twitched up. “Give the staff a night off.”
“Well, when you put it like that… okay.”
He nodded, his eyes running over my body with anticipation. “Great, give me a second to let the hostess know.”
“Sure thing.”
I leaned back in the booth as Xavier strode off to alert the staff that we wouldn’t even be staying for dinner. Needless to say, he’d pay her off, and handsomely, I’m sure. That was perhaps the only thing I wasn’t worried about.
Because the rest… I mean, fuck, what was I doing? My fingers brushed against my lips, tracing Xavier’s path. This was a bad idea. This was passion. This was a mistake. This was right.
But Xavier was back at our table, and I didn’t want to think any more. No more debating, no more should-I-shouldn’t-I. I was young, I was wild, and I was pregnant with his baby. I wanted to fuck Xavier. So I was going to.
“Let’s go to my place,” I said as I stumbled out of the booth.
Xavier caught me by the elbow, steadying me. “Whoa there, careful. I’ll flag the taxi.”
We walked arm in arm out to the curb, Xavier’s heat pressing into me. I could already picture him, naked in my bed, splayed out like Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man, his body a perfect model of the form. I tapped my foot on the sidewalk, anxious to get Xavier home and have my way with him.
Xavier glanced sidelong at me, perhaps sensing my anxiety.
“Don’t worry,” he reassured me in a low, mildly amused voice. “We’ll get your panties off in no time.”
Sure enough, just as he said that, a cab pulled over to the side of the curb. It was my lucky night. Some sex angel was watching over me.
Xavier opened the door for me, ever the gentlemen. In moments, we were both inside, bundled up as I gave the driver my address.
“And step on it, if you please,” Xavier added, his hand going to my thigh. “We’re in a bit of a hurry.”
He squeezed my tender flesh, then turned to whisper in my ear. “Chloe, I wish I were kissing you right now, but unfortunately, paparazzi have been following me lately, so I have to keep my mouth to myself for the time being. But just know that I’m thinking of your mouth and all the things I’m going to do to it later.”
Moisture slid out of me like a waterfall as heat creeped up the back of my neck. I knew Xavier had a naughty mind, but shit, I didn’t know he could talk like that.
“Keep talking,” I instructed him as quietly as I could, not wanting our driver to be clued into the obscenities happening in the back seat. “What else are you gonna do to me?”
Xavier’s hand gripped my thigh tighter as his lips moved closer to my ear. “Well first, I’m going to strip you naked so I can drink in your whole body, every single gorgeous inch of it.”
“Yeah—”
“And then I’m going to kneel before you, and take your pussy in my mouth, and worship you. I want to taste you, Chloe. You’re so delicious.”
I snuck my hand beneath my coat, unable to help myself, and begun to furtively stroke my clit.
“Uh-huh, what next?” My voice was breathy and strained.
“Then I’m going throw you down on the bed, push your legs as far apart as they’ll go, and I’m going to enter you.” He said every word with such certainty, as though it’d already been determined and each word, in turn, sent shivers down my spine. “And you’re going to scream my name.”
His hair brushed against my cheek as I pressed harder on my mound. I knew he said we couldn’t be seen together, but my hand was working very discreetly beneath my coat. This would have to be okay — I couldn’t go another minute without pleasuring myself.
“Are you touching yourself?” Xavier asked quietly, espying my movements.
“Yes,” I replied guiltily. “You can’t talk to me like that and expect me to do nothing.”
“I want you to come,” he told me, in just the barest whisper. “Now, in this cab. Orgasm for me, Chloe.”
My whole body began to rush with sensation. My head grew dizzy.
I was already more than halfway there.
“Oh my God, Xavier, I think I’m going to—”
“Sshh. Come for me.”
And all at once, in the back of a cab, I was orgasming, Xavier’s lips next to my ear, his hand on my thigh. I came as quietly as I could, my body shuddering helplessly as I willed my voice not to emerge in a triumphant scream. Every single fiber of my being was on fire, and I could do nothing but tilt my head back against the seat and pray that I would keep my composure. Xavier squeezed my leg tighter, as if urging me to both orgasm, and stay quiet.
At last, I slowly descended from the high, drawing gasping breaths as my vision returned.
“Good timing,” Xavier murmured as the car slowed down, and then louder: “We’re here.”
CHAPTER 23
Xavier
I SLID SOME bills to the driver, not even bothering to count them. But based on his shocked reply of, “Wow, sir, thank you,” I assume the total more than sufficed.
There was no time to worry about money, anyway. I needed to get Chloe out of this car — and then out of her clothes.
We hastened from the cab, and as Chloe fumbled for her keys at the door, I noticed a sheen of sweat on her forehead from the exertion and frenzy of her orgasm.
God, that had been something to see, the way her lips had tensed and her eyes had squeezed shut. She was trying to keep her composure, I knew, but it was obvious to anyone in a ten-foot radius that something mystical and divine was happening in the back of that car.
And now I couldn’t wait to get her naked and have my way with her.
My cock had throbbed the whole ride over. Now, I pressed it into Chloe’s back while she continued to struggle with the keys.
“Do you need some help?” I tucked my face into her shoulder, hoping that no passers-by would identify me from the gossip rags.
“Your boner is a little distracting,” she admitted, grinding her hips against me even as she made the joke.
“Here, allow me.”
I plucked the keys out of her hand and
, still pressing my pelvis to hers, slid the metal in the lock, swiftly undoing the door and throwing it open.
“Nice skills,” Chloe admired.
“You can compliment me in your apartment,” I laughed back.
“Follow me.”
She led me down a hall and to an elevator that appeared to be from the late forties, one of those contraptions with a door you had to push open and then close again. In other words, it looked like a death trap. But if I had to die, at least I’d die with Chloe.
The door dinged and Chloe yanked it open with a practiced movement, almost like that old elevator tap sequence from Thoroughly Modern Millie. I nearly expected her to break into a one-two step-ball-repeat.
Anyhow, we could worry about choreography later. I hustled her into the elevator, my hand on her back as we stepped inside and Chloe sent the door clanging shut once more.
“What floor?” I asked, reaching around to hit the button.
“Twelve.”
I pressed it and replied, “Good, that means I have some time to do this.”
I took Chloe’s hand and placed it on my crotch. She gasped with excitement, her mouth dropping open as her eyes went wide.
“Fuck, you’re so hard,” she cried, finally able to speak with her full voice.
“Think you can take care of that for me?”
She grinned and winked. “Sounds like a job I’m very qualified for.”
“Hm, I might need to see your résumé first.”
“How’s this for a résumé?”
Chloe leaned in and kiss me on the lips, drawing a moan from the depths of my throat.
The elevator dinged again — we’d arrived. “I think you’ll be perfect for the position,” I managed to reply, my throat dry from excitement.
Together, we stumbled out of the metal box and into the hallway, which was the exposed brick of an old hipster haunt. Chloe looked far too cool for this building in her little lace and satin sheath. This apartment was the pretender, and she was the real deal. They all wish they could be her, I thought with satisfaction.