Xander smiles and orders coffee. I shake my head and return to the kitchen to prepare what I can for tomorrow’s lunch.
“Is he still there?” I ask when Sanjay brings dishes in.
He nods.
I put away the pre-cut veggies for tomorrow’s wraps, and sighing, I decide to leave early. I’m not going to have the talk with him here, and clearly he can’t be deterred easily.
I grab my things and say goodbye to Sanjay.
“Let’s go.” I sigh without waiting for Xander. He follows without a word and helps me into the car.
“You seem tense,” he comments, gliding in beside me.
“What do you want?”
He winks at me but returns his attention to the road. “Obviously, I want to get into your pants.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re the ultimate romantic.”
He shrugs. “Do you want a romance, Coraline? Just say so.”
I can’t help but snort. A part of me is kind ofcurious how Xander’s version of romance might look. I squash that notion quickly.
“Stop calling me Coraline. And you had your chance.” I cringe, sounding more needy than I care to admit.
“You were drunk. You know it was the right call, but the case of blue balls worsened, so I would like to continue where we left off.”
Direct much? “Keep dreaming, Xander.” I sound bitter, and I don’t like it. To strengthen my resolve, I add that to his offenses.
He seems completely unperturbed by my irrational venom. “I’ve done a lot of that lately. I’m after the real deal now. I want to make all our fantasies come true.”
“Ours?” I scoff.
He glances at me, his eyebrows lifted. Like he’s so sure I feel the same. The infuriating part is, he is right.
There have been fantasies. Don’t blame me; he’s the only man I’ve interacted with outside of work besides my father in a while.
As soon as I go on a date or two, I won’t be like a starved stray, happy with the first crumb she finds.
“I’m sure there are plenty of candidates to caress your blue balls.”
“For sure.” He stops at the red light and turns to me. His gaze burns me. Not just my skin—it detonates inside me with such intensity I want to jumpout. “But I want your touch, your moans, your cum to coat my face, my hands, my cock. Only yours,” he rasps.
Jesus. I should be appalled by his words. I should slap him for the crass declaration. I should… I don’t know what I should have, but it certainly isn’t hitched breath, racing heart, and clenching pussy. Yet it’s the latter that wipes out my ability to speak.
The man is fucking infuriating. A loud honk forces him to refocus on the road, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to breathe.
I need to save myself.
We drive in silence until he pulls to the curb in front of my house.
I sense his gaze on me, but I don’t look at him, speaking to the windshield. “Look, Xander, I know women fall at your feet. I know you can buy them, woo them, or coerce them, perhaps. And I’m pretty sure that many of them fall for it, and some of them simply risk it.”
“Risk it?” His question is laced with genuine confusion.
“Yes.” I turn to look at him finally, his face impassive. “You might not realize it, but your light can illuminate and burn equally, Xander. And I’m not willing to risk it.”
He studies me, the imaginary clock ticking loudlyin my temples, almost deafening. I was honest with him, and I don’t think he knows how to deal with it.
