His throaty laugh is my new favorite song. "You're being silly."
"Am I really?" I throw him a challenging look as I saunter back to where he’s standing.
Tilting his head, he gives me an are-you-serious? look. "I can learn to operate a laundry machine. I'm a quick study. Now that I've seen you do it once, I'll be able to do it all by myself next time."
"Yeah, I'm sure," I mutter under my breath.
He leans across the table, reaching a long arm out ahead of him. "I’ll show you. Here—let me help.” He swiftly grabs an itty bitty tiger-print thong from the top of the colors pile. "I'm thinking this little number would run through the ‘delicates’ cycle, am I right?" He holds up the panties in the air, the elastic waistband stretched out and pinched between the fingers of both hands.
I glance over and see Mr. All-In-Black smothering a laugh as he peers in our direction.
"Give me that!" I hiss, trying to snatch the underwear from Xavier.
He ducks too fast, holding the thing out of my reach. "I think I should do a quick sniff test before tossing these into the wash. Y'know—I need to make sure they're really, really dirty."
"Hey!" I yelp as he tries to bring the scrap of clothing to his nose. I grasp wildly, my arms flailing in the air. "Hey!"
"Mmm..." He emits a raspy groan. "I don’t think these need washing at all. They smell good enough to eat!"
When his lips open to shove the thong into his mouth, I chuck all remaining shards of decency aside and lunge at him, my whole body heaving forward.
Laughing hysterically, he falls back onto the table and I land on top of him. Snatching the thong from his lax fingers is easy since he's laughing so hard.
"Hey! That's my learning aid!" he protests, a satisfied quirk dancing on his full lips as he makes a feeble attempt to regain possession of my dirty undies.
"You are a freak!" I admonish, trying to be stern despite the laughter bubbling in my own chest.
It takes a while to register that my body is lying flush against his on the table.
I feel his heart hammering against my chest.
I feel his belly shaking with laughter.
I feel his semi-hard length pressing up against me.
And suddenly, it's spring break in my panties.
Before I do something stupid (like dry humping the hell out of him in the middle of the laundromat with at least one witness present), I slide off of him and I land on my shaky feet.
He sits up, wiping tears of laughter away with his forearm. "Freak. That's a title I can live with."
"Well, it's definitely not a compliment,” I tell him, amusement waning as I straighten my hair and clothes. My cheeks are hot and my body is pulsing. I'm wetter than the load I just pulled out of the washer.
Xavier is still watching me as his laughter fades out. The lust on his face is explicit. So is the reaction in his pants.
Something is happening between us. Right here, right now. The air is thickening, crackling, taking on an electric charge that's impossible to ignore. This is what chemistry feels like.
His eyes settle on my lips and I know he's imagining himself with his mouth on me, his hands on me. I'm not at all opposed to making that vision a reality because his lips are full and red and I know his stubble would feel like heaven beneath my fingertips.
A loud, tinny crack jolts us from the spell we've fallen under. Both of our heads snap over to the man in the corner. He gives us an innocent stare as he lifts his Diet Pepsi to his lips.
Xavier yanks his collar away from his throat. He blinks several times and his demeanour shifts completely. "I've got to, uh, I should go." Suddenly, he’s cold and withdrawn.
My tongue laps at my dry, tingly lips. "Yeah...of course, yeah."
My body bristles, heated and hyperaware, as he moves quickly toward the exit. He throws me a final look before moving out the door. "Have a good evening, Sadie. "
And I'm too stunned, too breathless to respond.
Chapter Six
Sadie
When I get home from work the next day, my front door is wide open. Peering through the opening, I see a broad, shirtless body kneeling at the back door with a box of tools spread out around him and a smartphone clenched in his hand.
An overzealous female voice pours in through the phone. “…So girlfriends, the first step in installing your deadbolt lock is making sure you put the ‘twisty’ part on the inside of the house and the ‘locky’ part on the outside of the house. Because obviously, if you put the ‘twisty’ part on the outside of the house, an intruder can just let himself in and that’s the last thing we want, right? Can I get an amen?”
Xavier joins the chorus of women who scream out. “Amen!”
The instructor speaks again. “I know this step may be a bit intimidating but it’s just society’s gender programming that’s keeping you in fear. You don’t need a man to ensure your safety. Just keep reminding yourself, ‘I can install this deadbolt on my own. I can install this deadbolt on my own.’ Just keep repeating it as a mantra.”
I struggle to contain my laughter as Xavier, nods along, repeating the affirmation low under his breath. “I can install this deadbolt on my own…I can install this—”
Unable to hold back one second longer, I bust up laughing.
He startles and his head snaps in my direction.
“Hey…” I step over the threshold, dropping my backpack and rollerblades by the front door.
He quickly stops the video and shoves the phone into his back pocket. “Hey…”
That impish smile makes my heart beat faster, causing me to totally forget to make fun of him. It’s not fair for a man to be that gorgeous. And when he drags a big hand down the front of his chest, chasing away his sweat, I momentarily consider grabbing his hand and sucking each of those big, thick fingers in turn. Sadie, that’s totally gross.
Anywho…
He rises to his feet and saunters closer, propping a shoulder against the wall across from me. Dammit—a shirtless prince standing in my hallway.
“You’re home early,” he tells me. “I thought I’d be done installing this lock before you got here.” His eyes do a quick sweep of my body, riding over the slope of my breasts in my red sports bra and my pierced belly button and the wide spread of my hips in my star-spangled boyfriend shorts.
A wave of heat rolls up my neck and I turn toward the kitchen to hide it. My balance falters. Be strong, knees. I believe in you. “My boss came to check in on the shop this afternoon so she let me take off early.” I quickly wash my hands and grab the little container of store-bought lemonade from my freezer.
Xavier is hot on my heels. “Good for you. I can’t understand how anybody can get any type of work done in this heat.” He drops into a chair at the kitchen table. I throw him a glance over my shoulder as he draws his forearm along his sweaty brow.
“Well, I’ll tell ya—I haven’t been getting much sleep in here…y’know with my air conditioner being broken and all. And if I dare to wear anything more than a pair of panties to bed, I have the sheets sticking to my skin in sixty seconds flat.”
His eyes widen when I say that and his gaze sweeps my body again. I can tell that the vivid image I just painted is playing out before his mind.
Excuse me while I go remove my foot from my mouth.
Normally, I wouldn’t be embarrassed making a comment like that. But with Xavier, now I’m feeling self-conscious and more than a little hot and bothered. Especially after that strange flirting episode at the laundromat yesterday.
I can’t lie—I spent a good part of last night recalling the feel of his cock pressed up against me and imagining the sound of his voice in my ear, whispering naughty things in that hot accent. I tried to stop myself but the fantasy got me all keyed up and had to take care of the problem, riding my battery-operated boyfriend until I collapsed in a sweaty, exhausted heap and promptly fell asleep.
And thinking these thoughts while he’s sitting right here at my
kitchen table is a dangerous idea because I feel my body revving up to make the fantasy a reality.
I’m so attracted to this guy. It’s hard to just be normal around him. That’s why I made the conscious decision not to Google him. Which is monumental because he’s a prince and naturally, I’m really curious about what exactly that means. But the thing is, he’s already so overwhelmingly hot to me. I’d rather get to know him in an organic way. Because if I let myself find out just how much of a big deal he is, I might lose my nerve and make an even bigger fool of myself around him.
Anyway, I’m relieved when he abruptly changes the subject of conversation. “Tell me about all these heavy, dog-eared textbooks." He picks up one of the business school manuals sitting on the table in front of him and playfully curls it like a dumbbell. His bicep bulges with the movement. “You don’t read these for fun, do you? Because if you do, I’ll have to recommend some far more pleasurable activities to you.”
I ignore the innuendo as anxiety begins to take root under my skin. I’d rather not talk about this. The disappointment stings too bad. “They're for school,” I tell him.
"School? You’re in school? What are you studying?"
I straighten my shoulders and say it with pride. "Business. I've been working on my business degree..." ...for the last one hundred years.
His brow mounts his forehead. He seems more than a little surprised. I get that a lot. The whole carefree girl vibe doesn’t always sync up with the strait-laced business person stereotype.
"What?" I ask, feeling defensive, preparing for a fight as I set a glass of cold lemonade in front of him.
“That’s just not what I was expecting you to say.” He shrugs a shoulder and brings the glass to his lips, cringing at the acidity of the juice. “You know that business school is a joke, right?"
I’m back at the counter, pouring myself a glass. "No, I didn't know that. I must have missed the memo." My tone is dry and snide.
That doesn’t deter him.
“I was in business school for a while. Oxford in London. Didn't learn shit. Only lasted one semester anyway. The parties were the best part of the whole thing. I was in the business of partying."
My blood curds in my veins. Jealousy erupts in my gut. I try my best to keep the emotions in check.
Xavier chuckles under his breath as he observes my sour expression. “You aren’t mad that I said that, are you?”
Am I mad? I am mad, actually. Very fucking mad. I hate that he’s taking this so lightly. To him the opportunity to earn a degree means nothing. To me, it’s what I want more than anything.
“Lighten up, Sadie,” he says in an appeasing tone. “I was just joking.”
Slowly, I set my drink on the counter and turn to face him. "When I was a little girl, I would sit on my dad's bed and watch him in the mornings. He'd drape his cheap, ratty tie around his neck and he'd do his best to tie it into a knot. It would be crooked every, single time." I laugh a little even as anger screams on the inside. "And I would ask him where he was going. He would say, 'On business’. At first, I didn’t understand but he'd pick me up and spin me around and promise me that soon we'd be rich and he'd buy me a pony…”
Xavier’s full attention is mine as more bitter laughter flows from my chest.
“He'd leave me with my best friend Natalie and her family and disappear for days, for weeks. And then he'd come back, more depressed than ever. He would fail. But a few weeks later, he'd put on the tie and leave again, still chasing that dream. Always chasing that dream."
I pause and take a sip. Xavier stays silent, looking guilt.
“Maybe that should have been my clue that following my dreams of owning a business was a waste of time but I guess I’m too optimistic for my own good. Because dad always looked so busy, so important. And I…I wanted to be important too. I wanted that so badly…The world has done nothing but show me how unimportant I am. I guess the little girl inside me still just wants to prove that isn’t true.” By now, my voice is a whisper, laden with embarrassment at my silly aspirations but carrying my determination and my conviction anyway.
Xavier comes closer. He reaches over and wipes his thumb along my cheek as he listens intently, wordlessly. I keep talking, if only to distract myself from the rush of him touching me like this.
“I worked like crazy over the past few years. Holding down a job while trying to pay tuition at the local community college. I put my one hundred percent into it because I've wanted it since I was a little girl." I give him a hard look and jerk away from his touch. "And you had it handed to you. You had Oxford University handed to you. And you pissed it away?” I laugh bitterly as I confess in a quiet voice. “I’m trying really hard not to resent you right now…And I don't think it's working."
He lowers his face. He’s so close it’s making me dizzy. “Sadie. I had no idea..."
I shake my head with a wistful smile and slide my back along the edge of the counter to break free of his intense energy. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad.” I stroll over to the table and take the seat across from his abandoned chair. “I just hate that you don't appreciate how lucky you are."
Now, he’s sitting across from me, looking deep in thought. He pauses. “I can't imagine how you manage…Y’know, school and work and life.”
My shoulder rises and falls helplessly. “Well, I've never qualified for scholarships.” My finger circles the rim of my cup. “I’ve applied for every one I've ever heard of. My grades just aren't strong enough. Going to work while you’re in school makes it hard to keep your grades up, especially when you don’t have anyone in your corner, pushing you, encouraging you to make them proud.”
I don’t know where all these confessions are coming from. I usually don’t get so damn deep in my feelings. It’s kind of pathetic and I don’t do ‘weak’. I think I just want to get him to realize how lucky he is. I mean, he’s a freaking prince. How many people can actually say that?
"That's fucked up." With his finger under my chin, he lifts my face so our eyes connect.
Now, I’m lost in his eyes, hostage to the dark, intense stare. I don’t think I want to get out. My vision begins to blur and my lashes grow heavy. I run a knuckle along the line of my bottom lashes and sniffle.
“In any case, I’m taking the semester off. I missed the deadline for tuition because the day before the deadline…an emergency came up and I ended up spending the money on something else.” I’m deliberately vague because whenever I think of what that ‘something’ was, I get so damn mad. So, I choose to block it out. I’ve already shared too much, gotten way too personal with this guy. “Why am I even telling you this?” I whisper.
"Sadie..." He doesn't know what to say. It's written all over his face. He's giving me a pleading, apologetic look.
I need to be done with this conversation so I don’t break down in tears right this minute.
I down the rest of my juice and stand from the table. “It’s so damn hot. I need to go take a shower before I melt completely.”
Xavier reaches out and his fingers curl around my bicep. He’s standing in front of me now. “Sadie, please. I'm sorry." His voice is so soft, his eyes are completely remorseful. He's sorry.
I give him as much of a smile as I can manage. "It's okay," I tell him. "You don't have to apologize for who you are, Prince Charming.” It's not his fault that he's a pretty, pretty rich boy who's never had to work hard for anything in his life.
I don’t think he’s listening to what I’m saying, though. His attention is fixed so intently on my lips that I don’t think he’s aware of anything in this room aside from my mouth.
He’s gonna kiss me.
This man is gonna kiss me and I’m gonna die.
But he doesn’t. He takes an unsteady step back and his eyes dart back to mine, blinking a few times.
The gravely tone of his words hits me straight in the stomach. “Let me help you…,” he tells me. “I can help you."
My body stiffens defe
nsively. Is he offering what I think he’s offering? This guy is unbelievable.”
I laugh dryly because he just doesn't get it. "Thank you for the offer but I don't need a hand-out, Xavier. I need respect. Belittling my dream wins you zero brownie points in my book." I watch his face fall at my words. “Please lock the door after you when you leave.”
I leave him standing there in the kitchen, looking dejected as I pad down the hallway and fill the bathtub to the brim. I stay and soak in the water until he’s gone because there’s no point in continuing to talk to him, in allowing a friendship to form.
He’s a prince and I’m…me. We come from two different worlds in every sense of the word.
Chapter Seven
Xavier
There’s a mural on the ceiling of Ethel’s bedroom. I think it’s supposed to be a copycat of Michelangelo’s work on the Sistine Chapel. Except the angels are all naked. And they have huge balls. I mean, huge. Whoever painted this was obviously a fan of the male scrotum.
And I’m not one to judge people and their preferences, really. Different strokes for different folks. But ceiling-gazing is an insomniac’s favorite pastime. However when said ceiling is covered in balls the size of dinner plates, the gazing can feel a little uncomfortable.
So now, I’m pacing. Pacing the hall from one end to the next. Digging my fingers through my hair. Cursing myself under my breath. The pained look in Sadie's eyes has stayed in my mind all night. That look of wanting something so bad and knowing you can't have it.
I understand the feeling because that's how badly I want her. I want her in so many ways. I want to see her smiling. I want to see the curve of her elegant neck as she throws her head back and laughs. I want to drag my teeth along her skin as I fuck her and watch her face twisting with pleasure.
Instead, I caused her pain. I made her cry. Fuck!
The Blue Collar Bachelors Box Set: The Complete Blue Collar Bachelors Series Page 87