by Lucy Score
“Xavier!” His name exploded from her. Waverly was too far beyond caring about anything but finding her release. She’d never been dominated like this before, never felt this helpless. She’d given up her own control to him, trusting him to take her where she needed to go. To make her feel something besides terror and guilt. He filled up all the emptiness in her, quieted the fear until there was nothing left but his driving need for climax.
“Come when I tell you,” he growled, and Waverly gripped him with her thighs as he rocked into her. “My beautiful, Angel.”
Her cry was a sob that caught in her throat. She was overcome with the desire to see where Xavier could take her. She’d never given anyone else free reign over her body before, and Xavier Saint was showing her just what was possible.
He whispered dark promises as he laid her bare with pleasure. “I feel you rippling around my cock, Waverly. It’s driving me insane.”
“Please, Xavier. Please, please, please,” Waverly chanted the words. She could do nothing but hold on as he battered into her, the spike of pleasure so sharp and so high it terrified her.
“Come!” He gritted out the command, and Waverly was shocked when her body did exactly what he told it to do. She erupted around him, and as he hit bottom and held there, his entire body tensed. The groan—guttural, animal—was sinful pleasure to her ears. His orgasm controlled hers, and she shuddered around him as he thrust wildly, emptying himself inside her, using her hungry squeezes to stroke out every drop of release from him.
“Waverly. Waverly. Waverly,” he chanted her name like a mantra.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
They were still tangled around each other, still stroking and petting when a distant knock cut through their haze.
“Fuck,” Xavier sat up. “Kate’s here.”
“Shit. Shit. Shit,” Waverly hissed and jumped up. She blindly felt for wall and hit the nightstand instead. “Ouch!”
Xavier flipped the light switch and flooded the room.
They stared at each other, and Waverly clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter that threatened to erupt.
“What?” he hissed.
Waverly snickered. “You look debauched!” she said, taking in his messy hair, his shoulders riddled with scratches. “If you answer the door like that Kate is going to pass out, and when she wakes up she’s going to know exactly what we did.”
Xavier frantically grabbed for a pair of sweatpants and yanked them on. “Better?”
She looked pointedly at his half-mast cock that was proudly fighting its way out of its cotton prison.
“Fuck.” He pulled on a t-shirt. “I’m not going to get unhard with you standing there naked.”
“Where would you like me to go?” Waverly asked accommodatingly. “You shredded the only clothes I had.”
He grabbed for her and shoved her and her ruined dress into the master bathroom. He threw a clean t-shirt after her. “Go take a shower, and don’t come out until you look like you didn’t have sex,” he ordered.
But when she took a step toward the shower, he was pulling her back in and kissing her hard. “Talk later,” he promised, and then he was hurrying out the door.
Grinning, Waverly shut the bathroom door behind her and took stock of Xavier’s bathroom. It reflected the man who owned it. Subtle polish in the granite and the tile, the glassed-in shower. But it was Spartan in its order. Nothing was out of place. She couldn’t tell which side of the double vanity he used because both were spotless. A single toothbrush occupied a stainless steel holder halfway between the sinks. It, and a bottle of hand soap, were the only items on the sparkling white countertop.
The only female presence was the one she spotted in the mirror. Her hair was a wild riot that had clearly had a man’s hands tangled in it. Her cheeks were flushed and rosy. Her lips were swollen from frenzied kisses. And her eyes? Well, they held the knowing light of what it was like to be worshipped. That’s how she felt, as if Xavier had witnessed her at her very worst and only saw the good, the bright, the beautiful.
Faintly, she heard voices coming from the other room. Kate. She’d need to get her head on straight before she faced Kate or anyone else for that matter. She ducked into the shower and turned on the faucets, setting the water on the edge of scorching. There was so much to consider. So many things had happened tonight, and she didn’t know what a damn one of them meant for her future. But that was for later. For now, she would bask in the steam of the water and the certainty that her body had been used as nature intended, perhaps for the first time ever.
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Xavier did his best to control her exposure to the news until Waverly snatched the remote out of his hand and replaced it with a fried chicken breast. “I know you don’t want me going all to pieces, X, but this is the best way for me to deal with it,” she told him, not taking her eyes from his giant flat screen.
It wasn’t just that the coverage of the explosions was riveting. It was that it had pierced the fragile bubble that their lovemaking had created. She was ripped back to a reality full of questions. The drone of the TV provided a barrier that bought her time while her mind frantically shuffled through what ifs and outcomes.
Kate snorted with indignation from her slouch on the floor where she was working her way through a plate of pizza, chicken, and mashed potatoes. “These idiots are doing everything they can to turn this into another New York or Paris,” she said, stabbing her plastic fork at the TV.
“Supposition sells, not facts,” Waverly sighed, pushing coleslaw around her plate. The relief that no one had suffered serious injuries was tempered by the guilt she felt at bringing this on the event. Her world, along with a sidewalk trashcan and a planter, had blown up. The events of the night were going to have long-reaching effects and not just for her.
A frantic Kate had busted into Xavier’s bathroom to see for herself that Waverly was okay. Her friend had been so upset she hadn’t mentioned the shredded designer gown and sex-tangled sheets. But Waverly knew it was only a matter of time before Kate’s brain processed everything and then the questions would start.
Over a smorgasbord of comfort foods Kate had shared her version of events. Liam had dragged her off the carpet with his wife in tow, and the three of them had dashed down the sidewalk under the scaffolding. They raced four blocks down the street until they found a sports bar where Kate called Ubers for them. She’d gone straight to the Sinners’ estate, and Waverly’s parents, Gwendolyn, and their security showed up minutes later. Kate dialed frantically until she finally got a text from Xavier that they were safe.
Gwendolyn, in true Media Barbie fashion, had crafted two press releases, one reporting that Waverly was safe and sound, praying for the rest of the attendees and crowd, and another announcing her disappearance. Thankfully, Waverly was present and accounted for and could sign off on the safe and sound release.
Xavier had listened to Kate’s version of events, asking careful questions to get a clearer picture. Waverly could see him sorting and adding information to the report running in his head.
Meanwhile, the TV played the video footage from Simon’s live coverage of the carpet on a loop. There was the glittery before of smiling faces and beautiful gowns and then there was the after of terror and tears. It took an hour before one of the entertainment news anchors had finally speculated that perhaps the explosions were somehow linked to Waverly Sinner’s stalker and the story took off from there. Twenty minutes later the police released photos of Ganim labeled only as “a person of interest.”
The news program ran the steady stream of pictures and video clips that came pouring in from those who witnessed the chaotic scene. On the third replay of Xavier tackling Waverly to the ground, Xavier took the remote back.
“Enough,” he said when she began to protest.
They shared a moment thick with tension, and she saw it then, the heated gaze, the tightness in his jaw. Xavier was angry. At what she could o
nly guess. Ganim. Her. Himself. The fact that there was a maniac on the loose, and he was holed up in his apartment babysitting her. Waverly wanted to reach out, to touch him. Thank him. But the moment had passed, and his phone was signaling another incoming call.
He took it into the kitchen, and Waverly flopped back against the couch cushion. He’d certainly been there for her tonight. Not only had he saved her life, but he’d also dragged her out of a panic attack. It shamed her to know that he’d seen her at her worst. At her most vulnerable. Xavier hadn’t used it against her, hadn’t even mentioned it. He hadn’t judged her. Yet.
Everything had changed tonight. The premiere that was supposed to set her career for the next five years hadn’t even happened. The stalker who terrified her had gotten closer than she ever expected. And Xavier. Well, Xavier had happened. She’d given up all her need for control and let him rule her body.
Just thinking about it made her breasts feel heavier, her core hotter. They had succumbed to the growing attraction, and it was going to complicate things whether it was the first or last time.
Xavier had been in touch with his team, with Micah, with the cops, but he still hadn’t left her side. She wondered how much of that was duty and how much of it was his heart. The way he held her in the car, the soothing words he’d whispered to her when he cradled her in his own bed. That wasn’t an obligation of the job. Xavier Saint had feelings for her.
But having feelings for someone doesn’t mean you don’t eventually screw them over, she reminded herself. She had far too much personal experience to dismiss that as a possibility.
“So was it really Ganim?” Kate asked, dragging Waverly back to the present.
She nodded, suppressing a shudder at the image of Ganim smiling at her just feet away. That odd, gleeful wave as if to say, “Look how close I can get to you.”
“Yeah, it was him. He just stood there, smiling. But he didn’t try to come any closer.” Waverly frowned. There’d been something odd about the way he came so close and then just stopped. He could have grabbed her in the chaos and tried to drag her off. Wasn’t that his end goal? But instead he’d just stood and stared. Why?
“Did you get any messages from him on Waverly’s social media?” Xavier asked, coming back to the living room and his abandoned plate of food.
“To be honest I didn’t think to look. Let me log in,” she said digging through the food containers in search of her phone.
“Why don’t you use my desktop in the guest room?” Xavier suggested. “It’s secure, and you can stow your things in there too since you’ll be staying the night.”
It wasn’t an offer. It was an order. “Thanks for the invite, X Factor,” Kate smirked, and then winked at Waverly. She picked up her purple duffle and bounced off down the hallway.
Alone with Waverly, Xavier muttered something about coffee and abandoned her on the couch. Avoidance, she recognized. Well, she was the only one allowed to play that game. He didn’t get that luxury. She corralled Xavier in the kitchen, a galley layout outfitted with dark cabinets, sleek appliances, and quartz countertops. He stared out the window while his coffee maker burbled to life.
“Are you mad that you’re stuck here with me when you want to be out hunting for Ganim?” she asked.
He turned to face her, leaning against the curved edge of the counter, arms crossed. He looked sexier than anyone had a right to in sweatpants and a t-shirt.
“Waverly, there is nothing that could tear me away from you right now.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, and she could see the tension vibrating off of him. “There is no one else I would trust here with you. It needs to be me.”
She took a deep breath and plunged. “Am I just a job?” The words tumbled out of her mouth. She didn’t want an answer, not really. Because she already knew, just as she knew it wouldn’t change anything.
“You were never just a job.” Those brown eyes warmed as they stared into her.
“But?”
“But I have a job to do.”
“And?”
He gave her a sexy half smile. “Angel, nothing has changed.”
“That’s funny,” Waverly said with a sad smile. “I feel like everything changed tonight.”
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After a confirmation that there were no messages from Ganim and then an emergency feel-good viewing of Dirty Dancing, Xavier sent both women off to bed, insisting that Waverly take the master. He’d sleep on the couch. It wasn’t just chivalry. He wanted to put himself between her and anyone foolish enough to try to get through the door. And, a dark part of him admitted that he wanted her sprawled across his bed, cuddled under his covers and dreaming about him.
Xavier lay on his back, staring up at the dull white ceiling. He fought the pull in his body that wanted him to slide under the covers of his bed and pull Waverly against him. Hold her, stroke her, brand her.
She was digging trenches in his brain, and he worried that this is what it felt like to be obsessed. Was this how Ganim felt? Waverly was never out of his mind. It wasn’t just keeping her safe, it was the way she looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. How quickly her mind worked when she schemed. The way she took care of her mother, even with all the resentment she felt.
His conversations with her played on a loop in his head every night. He liked talking to her, liked watching her shift from private Waverly to public and back again. He liked knowing that she let him see the real her as she had tonight. She’d been completely vulnerable to him, and he knew how terrifying that was for her. He wouldn’t let Waverly down and be yet another disappointment in her life. He cared too much.
When he wasn’t near her, he wanted to be. He sought her out with no other reason than to be close to her. He touched her as often as he thought he could get away with without raising eyebrows. Yet none of it was enough until tonight, and now that he’d touched her, tasted her, he knew he’d never be free of her again.
He’d never experienced sex like this before. Never lost and then found himself in a woman. Waverly Sinner had hooks in him and not just because she needed protecting. She was his dream girl and that’s what she would stay until… Until when? He couldn’t see past the immediate danger. They’d catch Ganim. And then what? Would Waverly seek out her college dreams? Or would she succumb to family pressure and stay the course? Would she still need him?
God, he was living a fantasy, he cringed. There was no future for them.
There was a price to pay for the line he’d crossed tonight. He’d slept with a client. He’d broken the trust, not just between himself and Waverly but with Waverly’s parents. Just because they didn’t know didn’t mean his actions hadn’t been wrong. He didn’t take his word lightly, yet he’d still broken it just to have her for one night.
He’d broken his own rule, crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. And now he had to pay the price. He’d stay close to Waverly, he’d protect her with his life, but he couldn’t touch her again. The center of his world slept in his own bed, but he couldn’t fill her again and make her sigh out his name in wonder and pleasure. The only thing he could do now was to make sure it never happened again. It wouldn’t make up for the mistake, but it would stop a downward spiral that was inevitable if he let himself touch her again.
Xavier didn’t know how he was going to handle it. How could he turn these feelings off? He couldn’t go five minutes without thinking about her before tonight. It was going to be a thousand times worse now that he’d experienced heaven.
But these weren’t the questions to be asking tonight, he reminded himself. There were more pressing matters at hand.
Someone wanted to take her away from him. And even if she couldn’t ever really be his, he vowed to keep her safe. He needed her safe, and compromising his instincts with the physical demands of his body wasn’t going to save her.
Xavier closed his eyes and willed himself to walk through the events at the premiere. He was missing som
ething. There was something about the way Ganim stood—close, but not close enough. Waving and smiling. There was something there. And he would find it.
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Morning came too soon for the residents of Xavier’s condo.
Waverly had dragged herself out from under the covers where she’d slept a surprisingly deep, dreamless sleep. Wrapped in Xavier’s scent and the memories of their lovemaking, she’d drifted off secure and comfortable. But morning brought its own challenges.
She found Xavier and Kate already up and arguing. Xavier from the kitchen where he was putting on the coffee and Kate from his living room where she poured over social media and news reports on her tablet.
“I can’t tell if this is a PR nightmare or a God send,” Kate muttered, frowning fiercely at her screen.
“I don’t give a flying fuck what it is. We aren’t parading her around like a duck decoy to bump up ticket sales,” Xavier snarled from the kitchen where cabinets slammed closed.
“I’m not saying use her as bait. I’m saying we can’t keep her on lock down here in town. The international leg of the publicity tour starts in eight days. What do we do with her until then?”
“Does ‘her’ get a say in any of this?” Waverly grumbled.
“Of course, her do,” Kate shot back.
“No, her don’t,” Xavier shot back from the kitchen.
Waverly pulled the sides of her long cardigan together over her shorts and tank top and padded into the kitchen. He was still in the sweats and t-shirt from last night and still sexier than she wanted him to be.
Wordlessly, Xavier handed her a mug of coffee. His gaze traveled from her head to her toes resting very briefly on areas that he’d so recently become familiar with.
She gestured for another mug and took it back to the living room to Kate.
A quick review of trending headlines revealed that the world wanted proof that Waverly was okay and that The Dedication’s opening night had sold out in theaters across the country. In the light of day, it was confirmed that there had been no serious injuries after the attack, which loosened the guilty fear Waverly had held tight in her chest. In an early morning press conference a block from the theatre, police discussed the improvised explosive devices used in the attack and speculated that the perpetrator used them as a diversion rather than a means of harm.