Wicked Lovers 07 Ours to Love (18 page)

Doug didn’t hesitate. “Sneaky. I like it. Your brother wouldn’t approve.”

Probably not. Javier tended to shoot very straight. But Xander firmly believed that
when dealing with crooks, you had to be every bit as crooked.

“I’m assuming responsibility of this project.” He glanced over at London. She looked
both proud of him in a way he hadn’t seen anyone look at him in . . . well, ever.
But she also looked a bit regretful.

“Hang on a second, Doug.”

Xander didn’t wait for the other man’s assent. He simply muted the phone and, with
his free hand, grabbed London’s. “This is the first project Javier gave you, isn’t
it?”

“Yes.” She started shaking her head, her tone deferring. “It’s not a problem. You
understand what’s going on. You’re getting the job done, and that’s more important.”

“But you’re important, too. If Javier hired you, it’s because you’re smart.”

She winced. “That’s not exactly what he said.”

He stared at her in shock. “Javier admitted that he wants to sleep with you?”

London flushed a sweet pink and nodded. “So I doubt he’ll be upset if I don’t complete
the project.”

“He might be, but it’s not him I’m worried about,
belleza
. Do you want to be involved? Do you want to learn?”

Her expression told him that she was really reluctant to answer. He mentally counted
to five, then intentionally squared his shoulders at her and dropped his voice. “I
asked you a question, London.”

“Yes, sir.”

Well, fuck. He’d never understood all those descriptions of people swooning over the
objects of their lust/love/obsession. But he was getting it now. Smart, honest—and
so beautifully submissive, London got to him in so many ways. A quick mental review
of the last twenty girls he’d taken to bed made him realize that they all had a few
things in common: They talked about almost nothing but themselves. They liked his
prowess and his money. They had a plastic surgeon on speed dial. They fucked to get
ahead or get off, not because it meant anything.

In that moment, he realized he’d never taken a woman to bed because she mattered to
him. Sex had been recreation. No, escape. Buried balls-deep in one woman after the
other, he didn’t have to think about the fact that no one in his life who was supposed
to value him did. Not his parents nor his brother . . . Hell, he’d taken two of his
teachers to bed as a junior in high school. Even they’d cared mostly about how he
looked and what he could make them feel, not who he was as a person or a student.

London would be totally different. She might say she just wanted someone to take her
virginity, but she wouldn’t touch a man who wouldn’t be her lover in every sense of
the word.

“Then let’s work this project together,
belleza
,” he suggested. “How’s that?”

She sent him a shy glance, those blue eyes shining with hope. Goddamn, he’d do anything
to keep that hope in her expression.

“I’d like that,” she murmured.

“All you had to do was say the word.”

Her smile beamed with growing confidence. It thrilled him like hell. It also aroused
him, and his cock stood up, prodding his zipper, begging for her attention. How he’d
love to grab some stolen moments with her, lay her out on the rug in front of the
fireplace. It didn’t matter that it was June and the temperature was flirting with
one hundred during the day. The firelight would make her skin glow as he peeled off
one garment at a time, loving each inch he revealed along the way. He’d worship her
lips, her nipples, her pussy. He’d caress her waist, palm her hips, and ease his cock
inside her deep, deeper, until she stretched to accommodate all of him. Until she
knew that some part of her belonged to him and always would.

“Are you all right?” she asked suddenly.

Shit. Business. Doug Maynard on the other end of the phone. Get your blood flowing
to the head up north
.

Unmuting the phone, he sucked in a breath. “Okay, Doug. Let’s implement this plan.
Who can we trust to help you swap some of the info on the secret drives for bogus
data?”

“My son-in-law. He’s solid.”

“All right. I’m trusting your judgment, so don’t fuck me here. Try to get some really
good IP trackers on those IDs. See what else you can dig up internally, have your
son-in-law do a little recon on his coworkers, and see if anyone is having financial
problems or is disgruntled—anything that might point a finger to someone willing to
sell us out.”

“You got it. I think that’s the right move.”

“Keep everything associated with Project Recovery safe. That’s your new number one
priority, got it?”

“Absolutely.”

They hung up, and the pizza arrived.

“Any wine in the house?” London asked as she searched the kitchen and found plates,
forks, and even a few veggies for salad.

Xander opened the lid, and heaven smelled a lot like basil and garlic to him in that
moment. “No. Just vodka, which I poured down the drain earlier. Javier is going to
love me for that.”

With a rueful nod, London agreed. Together, they sat back at the kitchen table and
ate enthusiastically, still studying the documents from Javier’s briefcase. She moaned
when she tasted a particularly cheesy bite, and that didn’t help Xander’s libido.
If Javier stayed sacked out all night, how the hell was he going to restrain himself
from sneaking into her room and doing his level best to seduce her? Maybe he shouldn’t.

She blinked up at him as she swallowed a sip of water, hesitation stamped all over
her face. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. Anything.” Especially if it got him closer to her.

Still, she paused, looking like she was gathering her courage more than her words.
“Your brother asked me this question, and I didn’t have an answer. I think . . . because
there isn’t one.” She shook her head, as if realizing that she was getting ahead of
herself. “Why me? I’m not allergic to Google. I’ve seen pictures of you with gorgeous
models, socialites, even porn stars. Javier seemed to think that you’ve slept with
about five thousand women. Is he exaggerating?”

Normally, Xander would deliver a great line, something slick that flattered her and
didn’t really answer the question. It would make her feel special in that moment without
admitting anything. But with London, he didn’t want to do what he normally did. Because,
to him, she wasn’t like any other woman.

“Probably,” he forced himself to admit. “I stopped counting years ago, but . . .”
He did some quick mental math. Six girls a week for the last nearly sixteen years
multiplied up really quickly. And he knew that some weeks he’d far exceeded six when
he’d been doing them in duos or trios, like he had the night before he’d moved out
of this house. “He’s close.”

London gasped softly. Xander forced himself not to flinch.

She withdrew from his personal space completely. “Then I can’t possibly have anything
you need. I think I’m in way over my head with you. You’ll just laugh at me and think
I’m a silly, overweight virgin who—”

“If you finish that sentence, I’m going to smack your ass so red, you won’t sit for
a week.”

She gaped wordlessly for a moment, a bit like an earthbound fish seeking water. “I
haven’t agreed to give you my power.”

True, but . . . He turned his best Dom stare on her, nailing her to her chair with
one glance. Her breath caught. But he persisted, leaning in, raising a brow, until
she finally lowered her gaze to her lap.

“Now you have. Such a naturally sweet sub.” He hooked a finger under her chin and
raised her gaze again. He caressed her rosy cheeks with his stare. “You’re not in
over your head. I will never think of you as silly. I adore you at exactly the size
you are,
belleza
. You’re curvy, womanly,
real
. As for being a virgin, it would be my honor to take that from you and give you pleasure
in return. Actually, I’m dying for it.” He flashed her a grin. “But that is totally
up to you. Originally, you might have picked me to help you lose your V-card. But
you’re really helping me.” He shook his head, trying to explain. “Something’s changed
for me, and I think it’s you.”

“Don’t waste your lines on me, please.”

That irked him, though he probably deserved it. “I’m absolutely serious. If you knew
me better, you’d know this isn’t seduction mode. It’s me talking to you and trying
to tell you something I’ve never wanted or needed to say to another woman. Ever.”

London looked away, flustered. “It isn’t about me. It’s your brother and—”

“I’ve lived with him my entire life. No.”

“I mean, it’s the situation with Javier.”

Xander turned that over in his head. “No. That’s different, I admit. And I owe you
for reaching out to him and doing your best to help. But that’s not it. I’ve been
trying to do the right thing for him all along, but mostly so I could get back to
‘normal,’ which I see now is completely fucked up. You’ve made me think, just by being
you.” He paused and dragged in a breath, realizing how heavy the conversation had
become. And strangely, he was okay with it. “You’ve made me want to be a better man
so I could be worthy of you.”

She reared back . . . but her breathing turned ragged and shallow. “That’s crazy.
You barely know me.”

“The little stuff, the idiosyncrasies and quirks, the way you like eggs, whether you
prefer baths or showers, no. You’re right. But I think I’ve got a pretty good idea
about what’s in here.” He nudged his hand between the swells of her breasts, easing
right over her heart. It was beating a bit faster than normal, and when he leaned
in, it picked up speed again.

He smiled.

“You’re making resisting you really challenging. You probably know that.”

“It would be easy to tell you not to try. But I want you to be sure and ready. As
much as I wanted you at your cousin’s club, I’m glad I stopped. You deserve your first
time to be special.”

London studied him for long moments, her blue eyes torn. She finally dropped her gaze
to eat another bite of pizza. “I want to believe you.”

He’d played this game before. He told lies, and the women lied to themselves about
believing his sincerity. It made them feel better about fucking him, and they could
cast him in the role of asshole after the sheets had gone cold. But this wasn’t a
game to London. She really was struggling to believe that she had something different
or more special than the thousands of women he’d taken to bed. Xander wished to hell
he could put it into words. Or show her. Yeah, he’d like that most of all.

“I don’t have the perfect words to make you understand how sincere I am. But I’m willing
to talk as much as you need. I’m willing to wait as long as it takes. Everything else
aside, we’ll work together to keep the business afloat and fix Javier. Even if nothing
ever happens between us, I’ll be forever grateful that you made me question everything
in my life.”

London pressed her lips together, her body tense, leaning in his direction. Suddenly,
she launched herself at him and closed her mouth over his. Lips so soft, molding perfectly
to his. Xander seized the opportunity and dragged her against his body, his cock harder
than ever. She whimpered and melted into him, surging into his mouth desperately.
London thrilled him in every way. He absorbed her against him, exploring and learning
her taste. She might be new in his life . . . but she felt so familiar. Almost like
coming home.

His married buddies all talked like that, describing their wives as their anchor,
their something to come back to, their someone to live for. Instead of scaring the
crap out of him, it revved his blood up even more, and he pulled her closer, wondering
if he could get that dress off in thirty seconds or less and claim her.

The phone’s shrill ring clanged between them. Xander was all for ignoring it, but
London started at the sound and began to pull back.

“I’m so embarrassed.” She turned away.

Xander grabbed her elbow with one hand and the phone with the other. “Don’t be. Let
me handle this, then we’ll talk more.”

At her nod, he answered the call. It was Maynard calling back to discuss exactly how
he’d had his son-in-law doctor the information on the database and how he personally
planned to track the IP addresses associated with the log-ins. Forty long minutes
later, he hung up and looked around to find London with her own laptop, her long,
pale hair in a sleek little ponytail, wearing a pair of shapeless gray sweatpants
with a breast-hugging pink tank top. That cinched it; his dick was totally in love.

“You’re staring.” That obviously made her nervous.

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking.” He grinned.

“I can guess, and it won’t help me get the draft of this annual report finished anytime
soon.”

“Last year’s was terrible.”

“Javier said as much. Why didn’t he let you help him if he’d just learned of his wife’s
death?”

A simple question. The logical one. “I don’t know, really. We both fell into our roles
long ago. Honestly, I think I was mostly content with mine. Or I told myself I was.
I guess . . . I finally realized that you can only have so many parties and so many
flings before it’s all just pointless. I’m thirty years old. I have nothing to show
for it. In fact, I’m probably lucky that I don’t have any children or diseases.”

Her expression held more pity than he wanted.

Xander scowled. “I’m not looking for sympathy. Being a poor little rich boy, I know.
Boohoo.”

“So you had all the money you could want, all the material things it could buy.” She
shrugged. “Who loved you?”

Painful fucking question. The answer blazed across his brain like a flash fire, sizzling
him all the way down to his soul. “I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you are. I know Javier isn’t. It makes me want to grab you both and
hug you so tight.”

Anger rolled through him. Xander hated this defensive feeling, but there was no fighting
it. “I don’t need your pity.”