And tonight, Xander had gotten that call.
But instead of telling him,“See, this is what I worry about,”Rylee chose to extend that joy he was seeking when he showed up at her brownstone.
So she walked him into her bedroom, closed the door behind them, and helped him undress in silence… not out of lust, but out of love. Then she watched him retreat to her en suite, knowing some grief had to be washed away before it could be touched.
He spent a little extra time in there, more than usual. When she’d peek inside through the gap in the en suite’s door, she’d seen his hands planted against the shower wall, his head slung forward. Xander just stood there as the water poured down on him.
But she waited, the wait giving her an opportunity to realize this was the first time she’d let him stay without excuses or feeling guilt.
And that made things feel different.
She was laying in the bed when Xander emerged out of the bathroom. Rylee had decided to get comfortable when she noticed him taking longer than usual in the en suite.
Xander kept a few of his things in Rylee’s room, including the boxers he pulled from the drawer in the bathroom.
All six-foot-something of him swaggered to her in bed. She almost felt embarrassed by how she was admiring his physique at a time she felt she shouldn’t have been.
Instead of heading to his usual side of the bed, he peeled back her covers and climbed on top of her… not to take, but to rest.
Not in a way to initiate sex, either. He laid on top of her for comfort.
The moment Rylee spread her arms wide enough for him to bury his face against the tee she wore, it didn’t take long for Xander’s shoulders to shrug in the cry he tried to muffle against Rylee.
Her arms curled tighter around him, the heat of his skin bleeding through the cotton of her tee, her hand drifting slowly up and down the ridges of his back.
Two kids. He’d lost two kids and for how much Xander loved children, she knew he was really feeling the loss that night.
So she held him as tight as she would her kids whenever they hurt themselves. Allowed Xander’s tears to dampen the fibers of her tee. Her fingers stroked his damp locs—neatly rolled, despite his day, and still warm from the shower—offering the comfort he didn’t know he needed.
No questions, no checking if he was okay.
He would let her know everything when he was ready.
When his shoulders finally relaxed, Rylee took his face in her hands, lifting his head so she could look into his eyes.
And he let her.
Allowed her to see the red-streaked whites of them. How the puffiness of them were proof that this was not his first cry of the night.
They held their stare for a bit before Rylee tugged at him just right and lifted her head high enough to press a kiss to his lips.
With her conversation with her friends from earlier that day at brunch playing in the back of her head, Rylee let Xander in with that kiss in a way she hadn’t before. That moment, in her bed, with Xander laying on her for comfort, was the first nonverbal yes she’d ever given to the idea of them without hesitation.
Xander balanced himself on his strong arms to bring himself closer to her.
She moaned at the weight of him on her, which inspired her to pull her legs from beneath him to spread them instead so he could position himself between them.
A low groan rumbled through her chest as the heat between them bloomed.
She blindly reached for the night table’s drawer, opening it and grabbing a condom, sight unseen. Ripped the wrapper open mid-kiss and lowered it between them. Xander assisted, pulling himself out of his boxers so Rylee could slide the condom over his growing erection.
Xander made enough room between them to aid her actions, then raised himself higher, slid her panties to the side so he could sink his hard into her soft.
Rylee whimpered as he guided himself in slowly.
“Mmm,” he moaned, his tongue still entangled with hers as he pulled back under the covers to push into her again.
Did that enough times to make Rylee break the kiss to get lost in the rhythmic strokes he always knew how to give… even in grief.
