XANDER (The Caine Brothers Book 2)

by Madigan, Margaret

  He waved a dismissive gesture. “Just some personal stuff. What’s on the agenda today?”

  “What’s her name?” Dude waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  “Why do you assume there’s a woman involved?”

  “Because if anyone needs to get laid, it’s you. I’m pulling for you, man.”

  “Just because I’m more selective about where I plant my dick, doesn’t mean I need to get laid. I do fine, thanks,” Xander said. “Have you had breakfast yet? I’m starved.”

  A huge grin spread across Dude’s face. “You did get laid last night.”

  Xander rolled his eyes. “You’re a douche, you know that right?”

  Someone knocked on the door. Dude stood to answer it, rubbing his hands together. “You have to tell me all about it over breakfast.”

  “Did you turn into a girl overnight? We’re not besties. I’m not going to sit over coffee and a donut and talk about sex.”

  It turned out to be Chico at the door. He followed Dude back into the room.

  “So you admit you had sex,” Dude said.

  Chico’s eyes went wide. “Killer got laid? Excellente, amigo.”

  “Fuck you both,” Xander said. But he couldn’t help a smirk as Dude grabbed his clothes and headed in the direction of the bathroom.

  “Who’s the lucky lady?” Chico asked.

  Xander considered brushing them off, because he seriously felt like an idiot talking about his sex life, but it occurred to him he might need help finding her and the guys could be useful.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “A little wham bam thank you ma’am?” Dude asked. He made some lewd gestures to emphasize his point.

  Xander gave him a disgusted look. The problem was, he wasn’t too far off, except the implication with a quickie like that was once and done, and he wanted to find this woman again.

  “It wasn’t like that.” He paused. “Okay, it was like that, but different.”

  Dude raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Different how?”

  How could he explain that despite the hot sex, there’d been a deeper connection? It didn’t make sense that in the span of less than a half hour where they said almost nothing to each other, only touching and sliding slick bodies against each other, he’d sensed something more. It sounded ridiculous even to him. They’d laugh at him. These were men for whom one night stands were routine; men for whom love and relationships and the idea of being tied down to one woman amounted to the proverbial ball and chain. Hell, he’d always been one of them. When his brother Hunter got married a few months ago he’d laughed along with the rest of his brothers at the idea of ever doing the same. Yet, maybe he just hadn’t met the right woman for the idea to have merit.

  He shook his head. What the hell was he thinking? He’d just met her. They’d had fabulous sex. That was all. He didn’t even know her name. Why would he be thinking about marriage, for God’s sake?

  “Nothing. Never mind. It was just fucking hot sex. Best I’ve had in a long time, but I didn’t get her name, so I’m kicking myself because I’d like to hit that again. You know?”

  Dude’s expression relaxed as if all was right with the world again. “Yeah, man. Been there.”

  “Where’d you find her?” Chico asked.

  “The Outpost. She was just there having a drink,” Xander said.

  “Well, maybe you’ll see her there again.”

  “Maybe you rocked her world so damn hard, she’ll come back for more,” Dude said.

  “We’ll see. So what’s on the agenda today?” Xander asked, ready to change the subject.

  “Bike games are going on, there’s a run down the shore might be fun, and we have to check out the Miss Lone Star Rally contest. Might find myself getting laid,” Dude said.

  Despite being big and bad, Dude was like a kid on Christmas morning when it came to rallies. So much to do and not enough time to do it all.

  “There’s supposed to be some good bands,” Chico offered. Give him beer and music and he was happy.

  “I’m going to shower,” Dude said. “I’ll meet y’all down at breakfast.”

  “Good deal,” Xander said. “C’mon Chico.”

  Dude popped his head out of the bathroom. “Oh, hey, Killer. Prez is on the warpath. Apparently he’s looking for us and wants our hides for hurting his precious Bug.”

  “Okay. I’ll keep an eye out for him. You know where the Ravagers are staying?”

  “Nope. Don’t care.”

  Dude disappeared into the bathroom and Xander and Chico left him to shower. “What’s everyone else doing today?” Xander asked. “Have you talked to anyone this morning?”

  Xander didn’t really give a shit what Prez thought about Hank’s punishment. The guy deserved it. But Mel had given specific instructions to keep the peace. If Prez—or any of the Ravagers—found him or Dude, that peace would be broken, and even if the Ravagers started the fighting, Mel would still be pissed.

  “Pyro, Gimp, and Itch already went downstairs to breakfast. Not sure where Mel is, or the rest of the guys.”

  They took the elevator to the lobby and when the door opened he stepped out and ran smack into a woman in a hurry to get on the elevator.

  “Watch out there,” he said, grabbing her shoulders and putting her back a step. When he got a look at her, though, he froze. “What the hell?”

  Her eyes flew open wide, like a deer in the crosshairs. It was his little Pixie.

  Her mouth moved like a fish out of water gasping for air until she finally managed, “Oh, shit.”

  “Who’s this?” Chico asked with a little too much interest.

  “Nobody you need to worry about, chief. Go ahead to breakfast. I’ll catch up,” Xander said. He kept a firm grip on Pixie as he helped her into the elevator. The last thing he saw as the door shut was Chico’s shit-eating grin.

  “Get your hands off me,” Pixie said.

  Xander did as she asked, holding his hands up in a surrender gesture. But damn, if the angry sparks in her eyes didn’t go straight to his cock. Here he thought he’d have to go searching for her and she came right to him. Must be destiny.

  “What’s your name, Pixie?” No way he’d get off the elevator without that information.

  “Pixie?”

  “You never told me your name. I’ve got to call you something.”

  “You don’t have to call me anything.”

  “What am I going to whisper in your ear when I’m fucking you up against this wall?”

  Her mouth fell open, but she had no words, just surprise. Her eyes darkened with the same desire racing in his veins, though. That was all the encouragement he needed.

  He glanced away long enough to find the button that stopped the elevator. It ground to a halt, and when he looked back to her, she’d backed into the corner like a trapped rabbit.

  “We can’t,” she finally whispered.

  He stepped across the car and wrapped a hand around her neck. “Oh yes, we can.” He pulled her into a kiss. He needed to prove to himself she tasted as good as he remembered. It had been one day. Only one day, but it seemed like a dream, or a fantasy. Nothing that good could be real.

  Once he had his lips on hers—his tongue on hers—he proved himself wrong. It was real. Or unreal. Amazing. Fucking mind blowing.

  Apparently, she thought so too given the needy sounds she made as she clung to him and kissed him back.

  He grabbed the hem of her shirt, ready to rip it off her, but she dragged her lips away and said, “Not here.”

  He did his best to focus on her eyes. “Why not? We’re here.”

  “Someone will report the elevator as stuck. Maintenance will show up.”

  “Then we’d better hurry.”

  She looked up at him with those dusky gray eyes and said, “I don’t want to hurry.”

  Well, fuck. His cock strained against his pants in agreement. “Where’s your room?”

  “Where’s yours?”

&nb
sp; He couldn’t blame her for being skittish. They barely knew each other. He still didn’t know her name. He couldn’t expect her to invite him into her room, or her life, as if he was anything other than a stranger, albeit one she’d already sexed up in a bar.

  He reached over and pressed the button for the third floor. While they waited, he stood behind her and leaned down to kiss her neck. She made a “mmmm” sound and tipped her head to the side, giving him better access. He licked the skin, loving the feeling of gooseflesh rising under his tongue.

  The elevator stopped, and the door slid open. He took her hand and led her down the hall to his room. The first time he slid the key card in, it blinked red. The second time, it blinked red.

  “Dammit.”

  She turned and gave him a look, one that said volumes about patience and things to come, then held out her hand. “You’re doing it too fast.”

  The double entendre made them both smile.

  “Nobody’s ever complained before.”

  One delicate brow went up. “I’m not just anybody, now, am I?”

  Hell no, she wasn’t.

  Something in his gut slid and clicked into place and he had a bad—or good?—feeling that she’d just turned into a Person of Significance in his life. He should turn and run the other way. He didn’t need anyone significant. He liked his life.

  But it was his room, and at the moment he didn’t seem capable of resistance.

  She didn’t wait for him to respond. Instead, she turned and slid the key card in and back out nice and slow; her reward a blinking green light.

  He reached around her and opened the door, shoving her inside and closing the door behind them. Her smug smile that she’d managed the door when he couldn’t, turned him on. Everything about her turned him on. He had the feeling watching her do the most mundane chore would turn him on as much as the dirtiest come-on. She was that sexy.

  Inside the room, she turned and came to him, eager for more. He had no problem obliging. He shucked out of his leather jacket, and pulled her against him, kissing her again. He didn’t think he could ever get enough of that mouth of hers.

  But he wanted the rest of her, too, so he slid his hands up under her shirt. Her skin heated his fingertips and that first touch sent an electric jolt to his balls.

  He worked the shirt over her head and all the way off, and made quick work of her lacy white bra, flinging it to the floor, then stepped back to appreciate the view he hadn’t had the pleasure of yesterday. He loved the entire female form, appreciating the soft curving lines, but breasts had a special appeal. Pixie’s were, of course, perfect. Beautiful slope, rosy upturned nipples that made his mouth water in anticipation of sucking them into hard nubs, and just the right size to fill his palms without being too heavy. He appreciated all breasts, but certain qualities made them especially attractive.

  “My turn,” she said.

  She closed the distance between them, yanked the tee from his pants and pulled it over his head in one rough sweep, flopping his hair into his face.

  When he shoved the hair back he caught the raw lust in her eyes just before she ran both hands up his abs and across his chest. Her touch felt right, like something he could get used to. A low murmur of approval escaped her lips just before she licked one of his nipples and tweaked the other, sending waves of lust through his veins.

  “Shit, Pixie.”

  “You’re like a drug. I can’t get enough of you.”

  “I’m happy to make you a Xander junkie. But first, lose the pants. I want to see all of you.”

  A coy smile played at her lips as she turned her back to him and worked at the button and zipper. She pushed the loosened pants down her legs, bending over at the waist as she did. A lacy white thong framed her perfect round ass, which begged to be touched, grabbed, pinched, and bitten. She looked up at him over her shoulder while she worked the thong down her slender legs. Her lips turned up into a sexy smile before she bit her bottom lip. Jesus, she’d be the death of him. Could she read his thoughts in his expression? His fingers had curled into fists in an effort to keep his hands to himself until she was undressed. He wanted that ass in his hands. Now.

  Before she could stand up, he gave in, leaning over to kiss first one cheek, then the other, and because he had an overwhelming desire to consume her, he bit her, too. Not hard, but enough to get his point across.

  She squealed and shot straight up. “Ow!”

  He chuckled and grabbed her waist, spinning her to face him. “Ditch the panties, Pixie.”

  She kicked them away. “Better?”

  He extended one of her hands over her head and spun her as if they found themselves on a dance floor, admiring her graceful form from every angle. “Perfect.”

  “I’m sure you say that to all the bike bunnies you boink.”

  “Boink? Really? Honey, I don’t boink.”

  “Whatever. Screw, bang, shag, hump, fuck.”

  “Are you trying to find out how much I fuck around?”

  A self-conscious shadow flit across her eyes before she glanced away and shrugged. It was adorable and the fact that he found it adorable seemed way more intimate than he generally cared to think about women. Not that he shared his bed very often. The answer to her question was ‘not as often as you’d think given my image.’ It took too much energy and he wasn’t comfortable with a revolving door of women the way Dude was. The way his brother Damian was.

  “I’m not a manwhore, if that’s what you’re asking.” He tucked hair behind her ear, caressing the shell of it, continuing to trace his fingers down her neck and over her shoulder. “But I do really want to fuck you now.”

  “Oh?” She looked surprised, but the sparkle in her eyes made it clear she was teasing him.

  “I can’t think of any other reason I’d bring you to my room and strip you bare.”

  His cock swelled in his pants as he took another long look at her. Slender and feminine, she was everything he craved in a woman.

  She crossed one arm under her breasts and with the other hand she tapped her cheek, twisting her lips into a thoughtful expression. “You know,” she said. “I think I’ve changed my mind. This just doesn’t work for me.”

  Lost in luxurious contemplation of her body and what he wanted to do to her, he’d only halfway paid attention to her, but when the words finally sunk in, he froze. What the hell? Was she really standing naked in his hotel room, rejecting him? He didn’t even know how to respond. He’d never found himself in that position.

  His eyes shot back to hers. “I…”

  She broke her pose and snort-laughed. “Oh man, you should see your face.”

  “Hmph,” he grunted.

  She laughed even harder. “Like I stole all your Christmas presents.”

  He raised an amused brow at her.

  More laughter, leaning her hands on her knees, gasping for air. “Or told you your puppy just died.” Some wheezing. “So good…”

  It shouldn’t, but her teasing turned him on. Her laughter—an honest, real expression of her joy—made him hard. He didn’t like the needy, desperate bike bunnies she’d referred to. He liked women with a lusty love of life, unafraid to be themselves. They were far too rare, in his experience.

  His cock strained against his pants, so he unbuttoned and unzipped and let it out. “Are you about done?” he asked.

  She glanced up at him, her face pink and rosy from the laughter. When she saw his cock, though, her eyes went wide and she stopped laughing. She stared at it like she couldn’t decide whether to be wary of it or explore it. When she licked her lips and swallowed hard he about came right there watching her tongue slide over her ruby lips.

  She glanced up at him with a devilish look in her eyes, then dropped to her knees and scooted the couple of feet to bring herself closer to him. Wrapping one hand around his cock, she used the other to drop his pants all the way to the floor. He happily kicked them away and opened his stance for her.

  She gripped him t
ight at the base and when she opened her mouth and her pretty pink tongue slipped out to lick the tip of him his hips jerked of their own accord. He resisted the urge to grab her head and force himself down her throat, but it wasn’t easy. Her tongue swirling around his cock was warm but it left a cool, wet wake behind that put him somewhere between a shiver and a groan.

  She took her time licking, building the anticipation, making him wait for her to take him all the way into her mouth. It took a lot of willpower not to demand what he wanted. Not to force it. He wasn’t that kind of man. He was all about control, not force. And never begging. Ever. He’d suffer the bluest balls in the history of blue balls before he begged. But sweet holy gods, she made him consider it. The words were right there waiting to be let loose and if she kept at it she might just wring them out of him.

  Lost in the fight to maintain at least a shred of dignity, while at the same time rationalizing the urge to mouth fuck her, she surprised him when she finally took as much of him as she could into the heat of her mouth, while stroking the rest of his length.

  A long, low groan escaped his lips as he let his hips thrust, and he sank into the sensation of her sucking his dick. His eyes closed and his focus centered on her lips, her tongue, her teeth, the heat, the suction. It was far from his first blow job, but it was the first time he’d felt worshipped. Which made him do a mental eye roll.

  When he felt the first hint of orgasm in his balls, he pulled out of her mouth. He wanted to come inside her, but not inside her mouth.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing. Get on the bed.”

  She raised a brow. “Would it hurt to say please?”

  He held her gaze. God he loved her sassiness. “Maybe.”

  She crossed her arms under her breasts—a move that made them sit up and beg to be worshipped—and gave him a stubborn smirk. He struggled to keep his eyes on hers and not drop them to her tits, but thinking about her tits made his cock jerk.

  She glanced down at it, then back up. “You’re probably going to want to do something about that. Before it hurts.”

  “It already does, but don’t pretend you’re not hot, wet, and throbbing to have it inside you.”