“And Brian can finish and close up for the night. You and I need to talk...in the morning.” I stood and leaned over her to run my tongue across her lower lip. I pulled up my pants and grabbed my ripped shirt from the floor, holding it up and staring at her. Chanel gave me a sheepish look before shrugging. I pulled her into me again, my hand squeezing her ass and pressing my hips against her abdomen so she could feel just how much I wanted her again.
“We’ll pick up your car tomorrow.” I stared down at her kiss-swollen lips and smeared lip gloss and grinned. “Or Sunday.” Any dissent she tried to form was cut off by my lips on hers.
Chapter Seven
Chanel
I have no idea how I ended up here,I thought as we passed through the gates of Xavier’s home. One minute I was having dinner with a client, detailing his divorce proceedings and the next minute, I was bent over getting deep stroked by the man I swore I was trying to avoid. Now, we were parked in his driveway as he dismounted from the driver’s side of the car and came around to open the passenger door for me. My clothing was all disheveled from rushing to put it back on in a small back office.
Wordlessly, Xavier, held out his hand to help me out of the car. He pushed the door closed and my back against the door, lowering his head so his lips just grazed mine. That brief contact with his mouth wasn’t nearly enough, and he knew it. He brushed his lips over mine again, eliciting a small whimper from me. He was stoking a fire that hadn’t been extinguished since we’d left his restaurant barely twenty minutes ago.
Pulling me into him at the waist he finally covered my mouth with his, and I swore I felt the entire ground beneath me shift. I had to grip onto his shoulders just to remain upright as his tongue swirled with mine, hungrily. We reveled in each other’s tastes for a while before he pulled back and quickly grabbed my hand. Seconds later we were on the other side of the door, just inside the barely lit foyer space. Once again, Xavier’s big body was pressing my back against the door as he took my lips. I gave little protest until his head moved lower and he began sucking on the skin between my neck and shoulder.
“I thought you said we needed to talk.” The words came out in more of a moan, but coherent enough to be understood.
“We will…eventually.” He pulled back, and his heated gaze singed me from head to toe as it moved over me. And with that, any idea of conversation happening that night ceased, as Xavier pressed his mouth to mine and ran his hands under my shirt, cupping and squeezing my breasts. My brain short-circuited, and there was no more thinking, just feeling as we somehow made our way up to his bedroom.
****
I woke up early the next morning, feeling sore but more refreshed than I’d felt in a long time. I found itodd,since we hadn’t done a whole lot of sleeping the night before. I’d maybegottena combined three to four hours of sleep. When Xavier had said we had lost time to make up for, he wasn’t kidding. The man spent most of the night with either his mouth, his dick or fingers in or on at least one of my orifices. I closed my eyes and inhaled, remembering the delicious memory of drifting off to sleep in his arms.
I yawned and stretched, turning slightly to see Xavier still fast asleep. I couldn’t keep myself from staring. Even in sleep he intrigued me, and since it’d been more than a month since I was this close to him, I felt a burning need to commit this scene to memory. Without thinking, I reached up and lightly ran my finger across the outline of his lower lip and then against the tiny hairs of the beard he’d allowed to grow in. I loved this man’s face naked or with hair, but the beard did add an extra layer of manliness or something that made him even more irresistible.
Not wanting to wake him, I reluctantly pulled away, and moved carefully to climb out of the bed. I searched his bedroom for my clothes and bit my lower lip curiously when I couldn’t find any of my clothing. Not one article of my clothing was in his bedroom, at least not on the floor where I swore we’d discarded our clothing the night before.
I briefly thought about waking Xavier to ask him about it, but instead I strolled over to his dresser and opened the drawer I knew he kept his tank tops, T-shirts and other workout gear. After selecting a Nike T-shirt, I pulled it over my body, letting it drape down my figure. The tee stopped a couple of inches above my knees. Satisfied for now, I headed to use the bathroom down the hall as to not wake Xavier by using the one in his room. I scrounged around for one of the unopened toothbrushes I knew he kept in the bathroom for guests. Finding one, I brushed my teeth and washed my face before heading into the kitchen.
It was a little after seven in the morning and, feeling particularly good after the previous night, I suddenly had the thought of cooking breakfast. I must’ve been in love because I typically abhorred cooking, especially in a kitchen that wasn’t my own. I shook my head at myself even as I began to pull out pots and pans from the cupboards. I refused to acknowledge that I became even more excited at the idea of cooking breakfast when I saw the shiny Williams Sonoma stainless steel cookware Xavier kept. If you’re going to cook, it might as well be on the good stuff.
I pulled out a carton of eggs, veggies for omelets, flour and sugar to make batter for waffles. I opted to start the coffee a little later so it’d still be hot once breakfast was ready. Turning on the Echo Dot that Xavier kept in his kitchen, I requested Alexa play some music, so I could jam as I cooked. I began singing along as TLC’sDamagedstarted playing. As I sang along to the words, I realized how perfectly they mirrored my own feelings and fears. My own “damage” from my past was, in part, what hindered my current relationship with Xavier. That was, if we even had a relationship at that point. Hell, for all I knew, he could’ve just been interested in a roll in the sack for the night. Deep down though, I knew that wasn’t the truth, but we still had a lot to talk about. Shaking off those thoughts, I allowed myself to get lost in the music and cooking.
Finishing the last waffles, I unplugged the waffle maker and turned on the skillet on the stove to begin the spinach and mushroom omelets. I then turned on the coffee maker to make a couple of cups of hazelnut coffee for us. Just as I moved back to the stove to melt the butter in the skillet, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. A tingle that started at my feet spread throughout the rest of my body, and a smile spread across my face as I turned to see Xavier, dressed in nothing but a pair of Calvin Klein boxer briefs, leaned against the entryway to the kitchen.
He remained silent, but his eyes said everything he was thinking. Those coffee brown pools ate me up. And when his pink tongue snuck out, running along his lower lip, I was suddenly reminded that I wasn’t wearing anything below his T-shirt. My body shivered.
“Good morning.” It came out as more of a purr than a greeting.
Again, no words came from him. Instead, he strutted up to me, towering over me as he took my face between his two big hands, tilting my head up to his. He lowered his head and captured my lips with his. I sighed into his mouth, savoring the flavor of his minty toothpaste and mouthwash as they mingled with the flavor that was uniquely his.
“Good morning,” he finally responded against my lips.
I felt the tingle from the top of my head all the way down to the tips of my toes. I swear it still pissed me off how attracted I was to this man. And no heterosexual woman should be subject to seeing Xavier Grant dressed in only boxer briefs first thing in the morning. We’re mere mortals. I mean, how in the hell was I supposed to continue cooking breakfast as if I didn’t want to ask—no, beg—him to bend me over the counter like how he’d bent me over the desk in his manager’s office the night before?
Shit!I admonished myself as I shook my head, trying to rid my mind of that memory. I had to take a step back from him. The mischievous look in his eyes told me he knew exactly what I’d been thinking about.
“You’re cooking breakfast?”
I glowered at the awe in his tone as I turned back to the stove.
“Somebody had to make sure we ate around here, sleepyhead. Ouch!” I jumped when he slapped me on the ass in response to my snarky comment.
“I fed you all night long.”
I shrugged and bit my lower lip to keep the smile off my face. “Whatever. It’s just a little something I threw together with what was in your fridge.”
“Omelets, waffles, fruit, and bacon.” He snorted. “Yeah, a little something. I must’ve put it down last night.” The cockiness in his voice made me want to both smack him and sink to my knees and pull him into my mouth. It made no damn sense.
“Don’t get full of yourself,” I stated instead, pointing the spatula I had in my hand at him.
