I woke up the next morning gradually, feeling content as the warmth of the body next to mine reminded me where I was. I even smiled, but then it morphed into a frown as I remembered the events that led me there in the first place.
That sure as hell wasn’t how I’d wanted to end up back in Xavier’s bed. My heart sank again as I recalled the doctor’s words when he’d told me Noah had died on the operating room table. I wiped away a tear that managed to escape my eye, not wanting to start off the day like this.
“Shhh,” his deep whisper encouraged. “You’re okay. It’s okay,” he added, as if soothing a crying baby.
“They’re all dead,” I sobbed. “H-he killed his whole family.” I bit down on my bottom lip, not wanting to cry anymore.
“I know,” Xavier added, pulling me backward into his chest, firmly.
“I-I tried to save Noah,” I began, as the events of last night kept replaying in my mind. Maybe saying them aloud would make them stop for a while. “I knew Anne Marie was dead, but when I found Noah behind the chair, gasping for air, I thought maybe he’d make it. I tried to stop the bleeding, and when he stopped breathing, I gave him mouth-to-mouth until the paramedics had to pull me off. But he was just so little. He was just a little boy. H-how could a father do that to his child?”
My voice was full of the pain and anguish I was feeling. Logically, I knew abuse was about control. Abusers wanted to control and would do anything, even murder, to keep that control. But I would never fully understand how someone could bring a child into this world, only to murder them because they felt they were losing control.
“It doesn’t make sense. It will never make sense,” Xavier answered, echoing my thoughts.
We were quiet for a long time. I was lost in my own thoughts and trying my best to tamp down on the rage that’d begun to bubble up. There was no one to be angry at. Michael was dead, and I hoped he was burning in hell. Anger wouldn’t serve me or anyone else. Not right now.
“I went to call you last night,” I finally admitted. When Xavier didn’t say anything, I continued. “Right before I got the call from Anne Marie. I was going to call you to apologize.”
“Oh, yeah? And what do you owe me an apology for?”
I turned to look at him. For a minute, I just stared, having missed his face over the last week. I used my finger to trace the outline of his jaw, and then the lips I loved so much.
“You were right,” I stated. “What happened between our parents has nothing to do with us. I…” I sighed. “Truth is, I was jealous of your mom.”
His eyes widened and then lowered, confused.
“I know it doesn’t make sense. But my father, he was hardly there when I was a kid. I mean, he was there, but not…not for me, you know. He paid the women he had affairs with more attention than he did me.” I rolled my eyes. “I know it doesn’t make sense. I just, I used that to put distance between us. I’m sorry.”
Xavier’s gaze lingered on me as he digested my words. I had so much more to add, but didn’t feel like it right then. I just wanted him to know I was wrong, and after last night, I didn’t want that to go unsaid.
He stared down at me, his eyes not giving anything away. He inched closer, pressing his lips to my forehead. It was a silent acceptance of my apology, one that made me weak all over, and if I had been standing, my knees would’ve buckled. I closed my eyes against another torrent of tears brought on by his tenderness. That feeling of being overwhelmed threatened to strangle me again, and I squeezed my eyes tighter until I felt his hand at the small of my back.
“What can I do? Tell me what I can do to make you feel better.”
My eyes sprang open. His face was a mask of seriousness and concern. I reached up and bit his lower lip.
“Make me forget. Just for a little while.” I proceeded to lick the seam of his lips and nip his bottom lip again until he finally took over the kiss, pushing my back against the bed and climbing on top of me. Exactly where I wanted him. I spread my legs to make room for his muscular build. His hands were at my waist, and the weight of his body on top of mine was the best feeling I’d had in a week.
“You sure?” he questioned cautiously.
I could feel his hardness pressing against my wet core. I opted not to give a verbal response. Instead, I reached up to wrap my hand around the back of his head, pulling his mouth down to meet mine while simultaneously wrapping my legs around his hips.
That was enough enticement. Seconds later, once he’d dispensed of the T-shirt I wore and his boxers, I moaned as he sank into me. All thoughts of the previous night fled as total ecstasy replaced coherent thinking.
****
I set the laptop onto the low-sitting glass coffee table in front of me and hit the remote to pause the show I was watching. I turned when I heard his footsteps behind me. He peeked over my shoulder and rolled his eyes at the freeze frame that was on.
“Lemonade? Again, seriously?”
I gave a one-shoulder shrug, causing the off-the-shoulder sweatshirt I was wearing to fall even lower. That caught Xavier’s eye, and he licked his bottom lip, smirking. I was sure he wasn’t even conscious of his reaction, but I felt my body’s temperature increase from that small move.
“It’s helping me cope,” I answered honestly. It’d been two weeks since Anne Marie and Noah were killed, and I hadn’t had the easiest time with it. Thankfully, I’d been granted time off from work, but after the funerals and being stuck in the house for a week, I grew extremely antsy. After some begging, I was able to convince Xavier to pick up my work laptop for me so I could do some work from home—his home, which I hadn’t left since that first night. He was more than willing to keep me there, offering to run to my condo to get whatever I needed. For the last week-and-a-half, whenever he came home, he’d find me parked in his media room more times than not, watching Lemonade as I typed away on my laptop, sending work emails.
“How was your day?”
He eased around the couch at the same time he began undoing his tie, and I swear it was the sexiest thing to see him in the scruffy, undone businessman look. With his tie undone, hanging around his neck, top button undone, suit jacket strewn over the back of the couch. I contemplated briefly over which look I preferred more, the sexy undone businessman, the laidback V-neck and gray sweatpants, or him in just a pair of boxer briefs. The actual answer to that question was it didn’t matter. He looked like my dream in whatever he wore, especially when it was just his birthday suit.
