by Sadie Grubor
Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes and focus on my tasks.
He rolls his chair up to my desk and thumbs through my papers.
My OCD kicks in and I snap, "Yes, please make a mess of my shit. It's not like they're important legal and business papers."
His eyes gaze up at me and he raises a thick brow.
"Wanna tell me what the real problem is?"
Fuck.
"The problem is you're messing up my space." It's only a sort-of lie.
I do hate for people to move my shit, especially on my desk, but my attitude is leftover frustration with my internal struggle.
"I'm particular about it." I shrug, returning to my keyboard.
"I hope you aren't taking these offers," he states, regaining my attention.
Swiveling my chair to face him, I ask, "Why?"
"Because they're shit." He shoves the papers and sits back in the chair.
"Yeah, well, it's all I have at the moment," I sigh, leaning forward and straightening them back into their dedicated piles.
"Can't you get rid of him legally without selling out or even buying him out?"
"Not until he's served with criminal charges." I settle back. "And until then, I'll have to deal with him for business decisions. I'm just trying to get out of this before it gets to be like the last…" I let my words and eyes drop.
"Because it was drawn out over a year," Xavier finishes for me, his hand coming to my thigh and pulling me closer.
With two thick fingers beneath my chin, he lifts my head until our eyes meet.
"Just don't sell yourself short. If this matters to you, it's worth the fight." His thumb swipes my bottom lip.
Using my feet, I put space between us and turn back to the computer.
"I haven't made a decision. Yet," I clarify. "I have fifteen days to give a response."
His phone vibrates, taking his attention off me for a moment.
We sit in amicable silence for a while, me knocking some of my tasks off the to-do list and him on his cell phone.
"My family is coming to the show in Miami next week," he says, breaking into the quiet.
"That'll be nice," I say.
"You should stay with us," he offers.
I lift my left hand from the keyboard and wave him off. "Nah, I'm all set at the hotel."
"The girls would love it," he tries to persuade.
"Wait—where are you staying?" I ask, realizing they can't all be staying at the hotel.
"The Florida house," he answers.
"You have a house in Florida?" I quirk one brow.
"Mom bought it as a place for her and Dad to retire," he explains.
"Yet, it will fit your entire family?"
"Mom only thinks in terms of family. She basically bought a second house on the east coast to use as a filming location and a way to follow my band from coast to coast," he discloses.
"I see."
"So?" he presses.
"I'll stay at the hotel, but thanks." I don't miss the narrowing of his eyes before I look away.
"Dad will be there," he drawls, like he's dangling a carrot.
And he totally fucking is! This is Duncan Stone, owner and CEO of Stonehard Productions. He's the king of porn.
"You should see the way your eyes light up at the mention of my father," he chuckles.
"He's Duncan fucking Stone," I admonish, "you should only speak of him reverently."
"He's my dad, Sid." He levels a look at me. "This is the guy who gave me the sex talk with live models, but also the guy who almost beat my ass when he found me banging one of the models later that year."
"So, you've had porno-poon?" I gasp. "Please, give details."
I place my elbow on the table and lean my chin onto my fist.
He laughs a full belly laugh. It tightens my chest, but I ignore the feelings.
"I was fifteen. She was nineteen and brand new. It was my first time," he shares.
"You should talk to Kel," I blurt.
His brow furrows. "Why?"
I shake my head.
"No, you brought it up, spill it," he demands.
"Liza's pretty sure Julia is the cougar to his man cub," I say around a grin.
I can't help it. I'm kind of proud of my baby cousin.
"Really?" His brows raise.
"Yep," I quip, not hiding the pride.
"Nice," he agrees.
"That's what I said!"
"I'm sure Liza's freaking out. I'd lose it if one of my girls were in Kel's place."
"Give him a couple years and he'll be looking for younger chicks to bang," I tease.
"Not fucking funny," Xavier growls.
"So, you staying at the house?" He brings the conversation back, full circle.
I consider it for a moment.
He's saying stay at the house, not stay with him. You can keep the line drawn. Then, my traitor heart chimes into my mental consideration, Yeah, right.
"No, I should stay at the hotel and close to the crew." I shake my head. "Just in case we need to have a meeting or something."
Pointing at him, I say, "I'm still meeting your dad, so make that shit happen."
"And if I don't?" he threatens, teasingly.
"Then you are cut off," I state.
"Wow, I thought women didn't cut off access to pussy until they were married or in a committed relationship," he retorts.
There it is. Confirmation. Not a relationship.
Shaking myself out of my mental chaos, I feign a gasp and put my hand over my heart.
"Like I would deny Xena access to Conan."
"Xena? What the hell is Xena?"
"My vagina, but don't get off topic," I scold.
"And I'm guessing Conan is my…"
I nod and drop my eyes to his crotch. "Your dick."
His face goes blank before he bursts into laughter, bending at his waist.
"I think I need to know the story behind this one," he laughs out.
"So, you don't care that the girls," I push out my chest and motion over them like I'm the Vanna White of boob showing, "will be off limits."
The smile drops from his face.
"That's what I thought," I sing the words, going back to my computer. "Make that shit happen, Xavier, or no boob access."
"You wouldn't?" he grumbles.
"Wouldn't I?" I toss at him.
After an evening of takeout, movies, couch sex, popcorn, and watching porn, where I totally tried to figure out if any of them were his porno-poon devirginator, we spent the next day similar to the previous—me at my computer, him on the couch or next to me.
During lunch, my mother called. Convincing her it wasn't Paul in my apartment didn't work until Xavier took my phone and introduced himself. After a few minutes of him speaking with her in his deep baritone voice, he handed the phone back to me. After pushing down the mortification, I was prepared to give my mom an I-told-you-so verbal smack down, but she one-upped me.
"Well," she blows out a breath, "he sounds…lovely," she says, her voice raspy.
I quickly ended the call with my horned up mother and scowled at him. He grinned.
Now, a couple hours before Xavier would leave for his flight, Liza calls.
Still unsure how I feel about her telling Xavier about the college incident, I answer the call, but say nothing.
"I know you're mad at me," she greets, "and that's fine, but I love you and did it because I care."
I scowl and purse my lips, staying silent.
"In her defense, she did threaten me," Xavier discloses, forcing my anger to thaw and my curiosity to spike.
"What did you say?" I blurt, needing to know. When Liza goes mamma bear, it's fucking classic.
After she recaps the conversation, with Xavier tossing out things here and there, we are back to our normal selves.
"You still coming to Pennsylvania to visit with Mom and Dad?" I ask Liza.
"Yeah, it's all set." She sounds excited. "You didn't tell them, did
you?"
"Nope. You know I love lying to my parents," I retort.
"You're terrible," she giggles.
"They will be fully surprised," I ensure, and then share, "Xavier talked to Mom on the phone this afternoon."
"Really?" she drawls the question. "How did that go?"
"I'm pretty sure she sexually assaulted my father after the call," I say, disgust in my tone.
Xavier snorts and Liza chokes.
"What?" she screeches.
"She was all worked up by his damn voice," I state, giving him side-eye. "It's so gross."
"You don't think it's gross when I get you worked up," he says, too loud.
"Damn," Liza breathes.
"Shut up," I growl at both of them, heat flushing my skin.
To make his point, he shoves me down on the couch.
"Stop," I whisper-shout.
He doesn't. My pants bunch to my knees.
"Sid, are you okay?" Liza asks in my ear.
Wasting no time, he lifts my legs and buries his face between them.
"I'm fucking great," I moan.
"Oh my God," Liza gasps, sounding horrified. "Are you?"
"Going for gold in the pussy eating Olympics?" I ask as Xavier sucks my clit and swirls his tongue. "Yes, fuck yes, he is!"
The call ends and I drop the phone to the floor.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sidra
Two days.
That's how long he's been gone.
My small apartment feels like a massive cavern without his oversized ass around.
Finishing the braid, I toss it over my shoulder, lean forward, and stare at myself in the mirror.
"Stop being an idiot," I order my reflection. "It's just a casual, friendly fuck-a-thon. Remember those?"
My chest aches in protest.
"What happened to you?" I drop my eyes from the mirror. "You used to be so wham-bam thanks, you well-hung man. Now, look at yourself," I scold, lifting my head and watching as I motion to myself.
With a sigh that would rival the swooniest romance novel heroine, I collect myself and exit the bathroom.
I walk through my apartment and chase away the thoughts of him by focusing on the amazing farmer's breakfast special I'll be eating during brunch with my parents.
Lifting my messenger bag, I put the strap over my head, grab my cell and keys, and open the door.
The blonde woman about to knock makes my stomach plummet.
Sam. Paul's Sam.
"Hi," she quietly greets.
"What do you want?" No point beating around the bush. "He's not here," I tack on.
Her eyes widen.
"I know. I just wanted to give this back to you," she rushes to explain. Dropping her eyes, she holds out a black leather box.
I stare at it before reaching out to take it.
"What—"
"It's the ring," she chokes out.
"What ring?" I open the box and see a princess cut diamond set in gold.
Her tear-filled eyes meet mine.
"I found all the legal papers," she sniffs. "I didn't know he'd done…" she trails off with a hiccup. "I'm sure he used your money to buy the ring."
Before I can react to all this, she continues.
"He sent the DVD," she says, her tone growing hard. "I didn't know what was going on until it was too late." She shakes her head. "He's lost his mind."
"Yeah," I agree with a snort.
Her hands grab my biceps and squeeze. I tense under the unexpected physical contact.
"No, I'm serious. I think he's having a mental breakdown." Her eyes search mine for something. "He doesn't know I was coming here and he doesn't know I won't be back."
My mouth drops open.
"What he did, that video, the stealing," she pauses, taking a breath, "I thought I knew him, but I don't. He scares me," she continues. "He's losing it, Sidra." Her hands give a squeeze before releasing my arms. "Please keep an eye out for him. I'm not sure what he'll do next."
"Uh…" I'm not sure what to say.
"Take care of yourself," she says. "And I know you don't owe me anything, but please don't let him find out I was here."
The fear on her face concerns me.
"Are you sure you'll be okay?"
She nods and forces a smile. "I think so. My daddy's a cop, so I'm going home for a while."
With our final goodbye, she walks away.
Shoving the ring box in my bag, I step out of my apartment and glance up and down the hall, paranoid.
Taking a fortifying breath, I steel my spine and make my way to brunch with the parental units.
Xavier
Finding the girls asleep in my bed when I got home made me think back to when they were infants keeping their mom and me up all night. They were out cold and didn't budge when I climbed between them.
Last night, they were in their own beds. My California King felt cold and empty.
I glance at my alarm clock and groan. 4:30 a.m.
Damn time zones and damn Sid. I should've convinced her to come home with me, but I don't want to push her too far, too fast. I've already invaded her life. And while her dominating moment back in her apartment, calling me out about being in her personal space was hot as fuck, she was also serious. Even though I don't do it to be mean, it can be a bit much.
So, my request for her to come home with me was casual, and now I'm fucking kicking myself.
I roll out of bed, scratching my face on the way to the bathroom. Hopefully, a hot shower will relax me.
The loud laughter from downstairs yanks me from sleep. Rolling my eyes to look at the time, I smile. 9:30 a.m.
The shower worked.
After pulling a t-shirt over my head and securing my hair to the crown of my head, I follow the noise.
"She's not my girlfriend," Nate growls.
Cass purses her lips and Lyra says, "Okay, fine, but you were still trying to suck her face off behind the bleachers."
"Nate," Em gasps, fighting a smile.
"You two leave him alone," Mom laughs out, tossing a balled up napkin at the girls.
"Leave the boy alone," I say around a yawn.
I hold up my fist as I walk by Nate and he bumps it with his.
"Hey," my mom croons.
I don't miss Em's eye roll. So, when I hug Mom, I give my sister my middle finger.
The boys laugh, earning a scowl from their mother.
"What soap are you using?" Mom asks, pulling away and furrowing her brow. "You smell like flowers."
I shrug, not wanting to admit to owning honeysuckle body wash. If Sid can't be here with me, at least I can have the scent of her. Even if it smells so much better on her skin.
"I need to have a talk with your housekeeper," Mom mumbles.
"Leave Susan alone," I order, grabbing a mug and filling it with coffee.
"You've had it out for Susan ever since you thought she was trying to seduce Xave," Em verbalizes my own thoughts.
"I'm still not so sure," Mom snaps. "He's probably walking around smelling like her perfume without even knowing it."
Lyra appears at my side and hugs my waist. Wrapping one arm around her, I prepare to hug back, but she pulls away quickly, grins up at me, and announces, "He smells like Sid."
"Traitor," I grumble, sipping from the mug.
My mother's "woohoo" makes both me and my sister flinch.
It's too early for that shit.
Sidra
Standing in line at the taxi kiosk, I dig out my sunglasses from my messenger bag. I'm also regretting my choice of black leggings and the black and white striped, long-sleeved tunic.
This Miami heat is going to escalate my boob sweat to flood levels.
"Where the hell did I put my—hey!" I yank my elbow from some grabby person.
My eyes first land on his chest and then rise up, meeting his familiar hazel eyes.
"Sid," Lyra screams, rushing past her dad and wrapping her arms around my waist.
Xavier grabs my arms when the force of her almost knocks me over.
"Hey." I pat her head.
She's not a fucking dog, you idiot!
She releases me.
"Need a ride?" His deep voice pulls my attention away from his clingy daughter.
My God, he's so hot. He's more than hot. Xavier is fuck-hawt, and I had sex with him.
After mentally high-fiving myself, I finally give a shake of my head.
"You don't have to go out of your way," I decline, "but it's good to see you."
Nice. Keep it cool, calm.
Lifting one brow, he leans down and takes my bag.
"Come on." He motions with a jerk of his head to follow him.
"Really," I protest, "a taxi is—"
"We found her," Lyra shouts, making me jump and stumble.
Following her line of vision, I find Cass, Sherry, Nate, Ian, and Em smiling and waving.
Lifting a hand, I return the gesture, though I have to smile through my nerves.
I bolted from the cabin like a criminal. Why do I have to face them now?
"Aunt Em and the boys just got here, too. Uncle Drew won't be here till later," Lyra explains. "Grandma and Cass waited for them, but me and Dad came to find you."
"Oh," I squeak just before Cass and Sherry enveloped me.
Em touches my arm, offering a warm smile.
"Just wait," she warns, "we get so much worse."
"What?" I ask, but everyone is walking toward the wall of glass doors.
Catching up to Xavier, I grab the handle of my rolling luggage, bringing him to a stop. He looks down at me.
"Didn't we talk about the bullying?" I grumble quietly.
"You insisted I introduce you to my father," he answers.
My scowl melts from my face and I bite my lip.
"He's here?" I ask, with a bit too much enthusiasm.
"Ya know, I should be offended that you're more excited to meet my father than to see me." Prying my fingers from the bag, he takes it, and walks away from me, but I'm quick to stay in step.
"He's Duncan Stone," I explain.
"I'm the one who goes down on you," he counters.
I lift my hand and point at him, planning to defend myself, but I really can't.
Dropping my hand, I sigh, "Good point."
He laughs as he hands my luggage over to an awaiting driver before taking the others and passing them over too. Then, he guides me into the back of a car and follows me inside, closing the door behind him.