Snare (Falling Stars #3) (38 page)

"Now, on a more personal note, I always get emails and Facebook messages at the radio station from your fans wanting to know about your love lives. And with the recent publicity to your relationship status, Xavier," the mention of my name pulls me back into the interview, "I'll just throw that out there to anyone who wants to chime in."

The question lingers for the briefest of moments. I shift my eyes to Sid and grin. She narrows hers on me, seeing I'm up to no damn good. Looking back to Pam, I lean toward the mic.

"I'm gonna have to confess that the gorgeous, sexy, infuriating woman you saw in the picture has," I move my eyes back to Sid, "taken me off the market." I glance back to Pam. "And if I get my way, which I'm sure I will, she'll be living with me soon."

"You sound awfully confident," Pam responds. "What makes you so sure of yourself?"

Giving a shrug, I say, "I know the Greek alphabet."

Pam's brow furrows before Sid's burst of laughter draws all attention to her.

Covering her mouth, she slips out of the room.

Just like that, all the heaviness of the day feels lifted.

Sidra

"Once I get the feeling back in my legs, I'm going to find the Viagra bottle," I pant.

Breathless after the third round of naked escapades, I lie stomach down over the ottoman in front of the living room fireplace, my hands hanging over the edge. The weight of Xavier's body presses into me from behind, his forehead against my spine.

"Just making sure you don't forget me when you're gone." The vulnerability in his words surprises me.

Then, he licks my skin, making me clench.

"You talk like I'm not coming back," I whisper.

"Are you?" Again, I'm struck by how unsure he sounds.

I fold my arms on the edge of the cushion and lay my cheek against them.

"Yes," I answer.

"When?"

Fingers dance over my hip, up my side, and draw patterns along my shoulder blade.

With an awkward shrug, I say, "A few weeks or—"

The sudden disappearance of his body sends a chill over my skin. Twisting at the waist, I watch as he pulls his gray sweatpants up and over his bare ass.

Staying belly down, I use the ottoman as cover, reach for my t-shirt, and put it over my head. Spotting my leggings on the couch across the room, I hold the hem of my shirt down and retrieve them.

One leg at a time, I yank the pants on. Then I scan the living room for my underwear and bra.

I turn toward Xavier and ask, "Where'd you—?"

Finding him staring at me, hands resting on top of his head, I forget about my underwear.

"I don't want you to go," he confesses, all doubt and vulnerability gone. "Not a day, not a week, not a goddamn hour."

He runs his hands down his face, groaning.

The words warm me and his struggle, as sick as it sounds, makes me giddy.

"I have to go back," I whisper, biting back my pleasure.

Dropping his arms to his sides, he exhales loudly.

"I love you," he says, the words an oath.

"Xavier, I can't just leave everything—"

"Fuck, why can't you just say it back?" he growls, making me jump.

"I love you?" I ask, confused.

"Yes," he clips, "I love you, Sid. I'm not trying to act like a girl right now, but it would be fucking nice to hear it once in awhile."

I lick my lips and close the distance between us.

"I'm…" I bite my lip, trying to find the right way to say this, "I'm not used to saying it." I close my eyes, scared to look him in the face while I act like a girl. "If you're expecting sappy, puppy love, it's just not who I am. I'm sorry, I—"

"Open your eyes," he orders, grabbing the sides of my head.

I open one.

"Both of them," he says, amusement in his words.

Sighing, I open them both and meet his eyes.

"I don't want you to be someone you're not, but I want to be someone you can be vulnerable with."

My chest tightens, heart thunders, and mouth goes dry.

You love him, just say the fucking words.

Leaning down, he presses his lips to my forehead, the hairs of his beard tickling my nose.

"I can be patient, baby," he mumbles against my skin before pulling away.

Say it, dumbass! It's just three fucking words. But it's not just three words where he's concerned.

"You want pizza?" he asks, walking into his kitchen.

"It's after three in the morning."

"It's L.A."

"How is that a response?" I walk after him.

"Because in L.A., everything is available at any time," he says, picking his cell up.

He swipes the screen a few times, then taps.

"Put that in your pros section for moving here."

He winks.

I open my mouth, but he starts speaking to the pizza place.

Forty-five minutes later, we're on his deck with a half-eaten pizza and bottles of beer. The fire is low in the pit, but still gives off enough heat to combat the cool ocean breeze.

On a double lounge chair, I sit with my legs curled beneath me. Xavier lays beside me, relaxing with one arm behind his head, the other on his chest, and his eyes closed.

This man is nothing, not even remotely in the same neighborhood as all those douchebag twatkins you've dealt with in your past.

I sneak a sideways glance at him and bite my lip.

He's definitely not anything I planned on or someone I ever thought I'd fall in love with. But, even after all my crazy, he picks up every goddamn broken piece of me, not caring how many times they cut him.

Stop being a pussy!

In a move so quick, he doesn't have time to blink. I straddle his legs and cover his eyes with my hands.

Okay, so I'm still a little bit of a pussy.

"What are you doing?" he asks, wrapping his hands around my wrists.

"I need you not to look at me," I admit.

His hands stay at my wrists, but he doesn't pull me off.

Licking my dry lips, I swallow my fear.

"I love you, Xavier," I whisper.

The muscles in his stomach and thighs tense beneath me.

"You sure as hell aren't what I ever expected, and I'll admit, while you were always crazy hot, I never thought I would fall in love with you," tears fill my eyes and emotions strangle my words, "but I have and I do. I'm never going to say it enough. I'm probably going to be an asshole most of the time, but you're supposed to see through that because you love me too, and—"

He jerks my hands from his face and rolls so I'm beneath him.

I try to cover my face, an attempt to hide the tears that escaped, but he won't release them from his grip.

"You don't have to hide from me," he whispers, placing a kiss on my chin.

"I'm an idiot," I mumble, turning my head to the side.

"Because you love me?"

"Yes," I blurt.

I feel his chuckle against my body and that pisses me off.

Snapping my head back at him, I glare.

"Don't laugh at me," I growl. "See, this is why I should never have—"

"Hey, I'm not laughing because you told me you love me, and I'm sure as hell not laughing about you finally opening up."

"Then why are you?" I sniffle.

"Because you're an idiot for thinking I would ever laugh at something I've wanted to hear you say for over a month now, and I might be laughing because you covered my eyes."

He places a kiss on the end of my nose and releases my hands.

"If you looked at me, I wouldn't have been able to say it," I grumble, fighting not to stick out my bottom lip.

When did I get so goddamn girly?

"I'll take it," he says, grinning. "However you can give it to me…for now."

"Furball," I reach up and pull at his hair.

"But you love me," he retorts, burying his face in my neck.

"I must…" I sigh.

He raises his head and our eyes meet.

"Since I'm moving across the fucking country to live with a Sasquatch," I finally admit what my heart chose a week ago.

Xavier's eyes crinkle and his mouth captures mine.

Chapter Thirty-One
Sidra
2 months later

"You finished with that yet?" Xavier bursts into my office, carrying a large picture.

"What's the point of having my own space and a closed door if you're just going to bust in?" I ask, setting down a proposal Sherry sent over.

Honestly, he's a welcome distraction to all the legal jargon, but I'm not telling him that.

"It's so we can play naughty secretary and demanding boss," he suggests, waggling his brows.

Xena clenches and my thighs tingle.

"O-kay," I drawl, "but this time, I'm being the secretary," I tease.

He sets the large picture down and leans it against the wall.

"Ha-ha," he responds, moving back to the door and closing it.

"I have work to do," I say, keeping my excitement tempered.

"You have a boss to please," he retorts.

Grabbing my arm, he pulls me out of the chair and takes my place. I grab my neon green glasses by the frame to take them off, but he shakes his head.

"Leave the glasses on," he orders, grabbing my hips and pulling me between his open legs.

"What kind of secretary wears shorts and a t-shirt?" I purse my lips.

"The perfect kind," he answers, gripping the waistband of the shorts and my underwear.

Tugging, he brings them down my thighs and I reach out, gripping his shoulders for balance.

Taking my hips, he moves us around and spins me.

"Hands on the desk," he growls.

"But, Mr. Stone," I say breathily, "what if your super smart, sexy, perfect in every way girlfriend finds out?" I bite the side of my mouth so I don't laugh.

The smack on my ass makes me jump.

"Hands on the desk, Miss Campbell."

I put my fucking hands on the desk.

"Good girl." The warmth of his words fans over my stinging ass cheek.

He places a kiss and his knee comes between my legs, holding them open. His palm, hot and rough, slides up, up, until he cups my pussy.

Swirling my hips, I press against his touch.

"Lean down," he commands, and I drop my chest on the oak desk.

My breaths come quicker, skin flushes with warmth, and my clit beats like a drum.

Slipping his fingers between the lips, he plays my little drum, causing my hips to jerk.

His free hand slides over my left cheek. Gripping hard, he spreads me open from behind and delves his tongue inside. Licking, swirling, penetrating, he works Xena up into penis crusher mode.

"Xavier," I groan, needing him to send me over the edge.

He pinches my clit, hard, making me jerk.

"I'm in charge," he mumbles against my skin.

Before I can argue further, his fingers slide down from my clit and enter me, pumping in and out. I push my hips back to meet his hand and the pace increases, bringing me so close to orgasm. My muscles tense, thighs burn, and the tingle begins.

"What are you doing?" I whine when his fingers disappear. "I was so—"

My moan as he slams Conan inside and conquers Xena cuts off my complaint.

The thrusts are powerful, quick, causing the desk to shake with each one.

A low hum fills the space as he wraps my hair around his left fist and pulls my head up. Turning it, he holds up a small vibrator from my personal toy collection.

Without slowing his drive, he runs the toy over my shoulder blade, along my side, and down my hip. Slipping it over my hip bone, he moves it lower and lower, until he reaches my clit.

"Oh my God," I cry out and try to synchronize, rubbing against the vibrator and meeting his thrusts.

Every cell in my body throbs for the intense orgasm building.

Leaning over, he licks between my shoulder blades and growls, "Mine."

That's it. That's all it takes. Each cell pulses and explodes like it's the Fourth of fucking July of orgasms. Feeling my body come undone, Xavier rides me harder. He drops the vibrator to the floor and slams into my body until his loud, guttural moan fills the room.

He collapses back into the chair. His softening cock sliding out and the sudden loss makes me shiver. He grabs my hips once more and pulls me onto his lap. My back to his chest, we both try to catch our breath

"I thought you didn't want to keep the toys," I pant, smiling.

A little over a month ago, when all the boxes arrived at Xavier's house, I thought he'd be pissed by all my shit, but fuzz face acted like it was Christmas. Opening boxes like there were presents inside, he put away all my clothes and scattered my family photos around his house like they'd been here forever.

The only battle came when he shoved my adult toy collection into the crawl space of his attic. They stayed there until I showed him the benefits of the couple's vibrator. After that, the toys have their own special drawer.

"You've raised convincing arguments." He brushes my hair from my neck and kisses the skin between it and my shoulder.

Grinning, my eyes find the large frame he carried in earlier.

"What is that?" I lift my chin toward it.

"Oh yeah," he exclaims, lifting me off his lap.

Standing, he pulls his shorts up and tucks himself back inside. He walks to the framed canvas while I pull my own shorts back on.

"I ordered this while you were packing your apartment," he explains, turning the large canvas toward me.

My furrowed brow melts away and a warm tingle fills my chest.

"I thought I'd put it in the bedroom, but you still haven't done much in here," he explains.

I trace the charcoal rendition with my eyes.

"It's the…" Inhaling a stuttered breath, I swallow down my pending emotional outburst.

"The cell phone picture was too small to blow up, so I hired an artist to sketch it."

In black strokes, gray shading, and white highlights is the airport kiss—an image that went viral and the media turned ugly. Xavier made it beautiful again.

In a real girly display, tears spill over my cheeks.

"Those are good tears, right?" he asks, leaning the picture back up against the wall.

I nod, fearing I'll make some ridiculous noise if I speak.

With the picture out of the way, I rush him. Throwing my arms around his waist, I bury my face in his chest.

"It's perfect," I whisper.

His arms come around me and his mouth to the top of my head.

Xavier

Now that Sid's been in the house for over a month, I feel like she should be more at home here, but she still acts like a visitor.

Hell, the girls have already adapted to her moving in. Maria warned me that they may have a bit of an adjustment period, getting used to the idea of me with a woman and living with her, regardless of how much they like Sid, but, so far, they act like she's been in our lives forever.

I thought setting up her family photographs around the house would help her settle in quicker, but she still treats herself like an outsider. During dinner a few nights ago, I mentioned redoing the master bathroom. The girls were full of ideas, but Sid sat quietly. When I pressed for her thoughts, she just shrugged and said it was up to me.

So, I hope hanging the picture of our kiss at the airport in her office will help get her there. It certainly brought out her softer side—the side she doesn't show very often—if only just for a moment.

"How much farther?" Sid asks for the second time.

Her excitement makes me smile. "Soon," I say, giving her the same response again.

When I told her last night I was taking her to Stonehard Production Studios, at the suggestion of my mother, I never thought I'd get her to sleep. Thankfully, a couple hours of Conan versus Xena and we both passed out.

I still can't believe she's got me calling my dick Conan.

She even made me watch every damn movie a few nights ago, starting with The Barbarian all the way up to the revamped version.

"Are you going to be able to keep your hands to yourself?" I tease.

"Um, no," she replies instantly. "One person says, 'check this out' or 'feel this' or 'do you want to touch it', I am so doing it."

"I'm not sure I'm okay with that," I confess.

The silence worries me, and for the first time, I have to wonder if I'm the prude in the relationship. To test this, I decide to flip the scenario.

"Okay, let's say I go in there and touch whoever. You going to be okay with that?"

Giving her a quick glance, I can see she's thinking it over.

"Yeah, I'm okay with that," she responds.

In my peripheral, I watch her nod.

"Really?" It comes out a bit harsher than intended.

"Why would I get mad?" She has the nerve to ask like I'm stupid.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because you'd prefer me not to touch other women since I belong to you. Just something like that," I exaggerate, giving a one-shoulder shrug.

Since when are you so fucking upset about being able to touch other women? Isn't this what a lot of men want, the free pass?

"Hey, I've licked nothing," she states, drawing my attention from the road to her face.

She's fucking laughing.

Chills pass over me. She has a point. Not once has she given me any indication of being possessive or territorial. Don't get me wrong, I do not want some crazy woman obsessing over who I talk to or who I'm texting, but…

Is it wrong to want to know she wants me as much as I want her? All mine, just mine, no one else.

After pulling myself out of my thoughts, I remind her.

"My neck?"

"Okay, your neck and mouth, but we're talking hands. I'm not going to lick…" her sentence trails off.

"Your mouth isn't going on anyone else, Sid," I enlighten her.

"Okay, okay," she concedes, "hands only."

"So, I can touch whoever I want while we're there?"

"As long as you're an equal gender offender, yes," she clarifies.

"Equal gender offender," I say out loud, processing.

"Yeah, I'm sure I'll be touching more women than men." Again, I get the
duh
inflection.

"Christ," I say with a sigh, "what the hell was I thinking bringing you here?"

"That you love me enough to show me, in person, porno poon and peni," she offers with a large grin.

"Peni?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure that's the plural for penis, but I enjoy saying it."

"I have a bad feeling I'm going to regret this."

I park the car and she's out before I can unbuckle my seat belt.

Inside at the reception desk, we do the sign in with Naomi and I send a text to my sister, Kami, and my father's assistant, Leah, before I take Sid to the production studio behind the building.

We step onto the back lot and into the warm, cloud-free day.

"Bright light, bright light," Sid repeats, shading her eyes.

"I told you to wear sunglasses," I say with a laugh.

"Pennsylvania doesn't try to blind me," she grumbles, shoving her elbow into my arm.