“So,” he said. “Are you going to try it on, or are we going to keep pretending we both don’t know why I’m really here?”
My breath caught in my throat. There it was—the moment of truth. I could still back out. Could tell him this was a mistake, that I wasn’t ready, that we should just stick to the suit fitting and nothing more.
But I was so tired of lying. So tired of pretending.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “About the distraction.”
Xavier’s expression softened slightly, though that knowing smirk never quite left his lips. “And?”
“And I think...” I swallowed hard, my heart hammering so loud I was sure he could hear it. “I think maybe you’re right. Maybe we could help each other out.”
He pushed off the wall, taking a slow step toward me. Then another. The air between us felt electric, charged with possibility and danger in equal measure.
“You’re sure?” he asked, and I was surprised by the genuine concern in his voice. “Because once we cross this line, Marcus, there’s no going back. And I need to know you’re not going to panic and run out on me again.”
I thought about that. About what it would mean to let myself have this, even if just for three weeks. About the risk I was taking with my reputation, my career, everything my father had built. But I also thought about those trips to Austin, those anonymous encounters in dark rooms where I could never truly be myself or get to know anyone. Where I was just another body in the shadows.
With Xavier, I could be seen. Even if it was just behind locked doors and drawn blinds.
“I’m sure,” I said, and I meant it.
Xavier closed the remaining distance between us, and suddenly we were standing toe to toe, so close I could feel theheat radiating off his body. His hand came up to rest on my chest, right over my heart, and I knew he could feel how fast it was beating.
“Then show me,” he whispered, his eyes locked on mine. “Show me what you want, Sheriff.”
My hand moved almost of its own accord, coming up to cup the back of his neck. His skin was warm and smooth under my palm, and I felt him shiver at the contact. For a moment, we just stood there, breathing each other’s air, teetering on the edge.
Then I closed the distance and kissed him.
It was soft at first, tentative, like I was testing the waters after years of keeping myself locked away. But the moment our lips touched, something in me snapped. Years of denial, of suppression, of forcing myself into a box I was never meant to fit in… it all came crashing down.
Xavier made a small sound in the back of his throat, his hands coming up to grip my shirt, and I deepened the kiss, pulling him closer. He tasted like coffee and something sweet, and I couldn’t get enough. My other hand found his hip, fingers digging into the fabric of those impossibly tight jeans, and he pressed himself against me with a desperation that matched my own.
I’d kissed men before, of course. In Austin, in those dark rooms where nobody knew my name. But this was different. This wasn’t anonymous. This wasn’t hiding. This was Xavier, with his sharp tongue and his knowing smirks and his ability to see right through every wall I’d built.
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his pupils blown wide and his lips already swollen. “Jesus, Marcus,” he breathed. “You kiss like a man who’s been starving.”
“Maybe I have been,” I admitted, and it felt like the most honest thing I’d said in years.
His hands slid up my chest, fingers working at the buttons of my uniform shirt. “Then let me give you what you crave,” he murmured, and there was a heat in his voice that went directly to my dick.
I helped him with the buttons, my fingers clumsy with excitement. The shirt hit the floor, followed quickly by my undershirt, and then Xavier’s hands were on my bare skin, tracing the lines of muscle, threading through the hair on my chest. His touch was reverent, exploratory, like he was memorizing every inch of me.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered, leaning in to press his lips to my collarbone. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been not to touch you?”
I groaned, my head falling back as he worked his way down my chest, his mouth hot against my skin. My hands found his hair, threading through the dark strands, and I tugged gently, earning another one of those delicious sounds from him.
“We should...” I started, but I couldn’t finish the thought. My brain had short-circuited somewhere between his tongue on my nipple and his hand sliding down to palm my hard cock through my pants.
“Should what?” he asked, looking up at me with those impossibly dark eyes. “Stop? Because I really don’t want to stop, Marcus.”
“No,” I said quickly, probably too quickly. “I just meant... the desk. Or the couch. Somewhere more comfortable than standing here.”
A wicked grin spread across his face. “The desk sounds perfect, actually. Why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll make sure to takeverygood care of you.”
Chapter 11
Xavier
