Breathe for Me (13 page)

Frankly Xander loved a game. He loved taking control. But there was always choice at the heart of it. And she’d responded to that lame superhero scenario. Once involved she’d given it good. She’d risen to his challenge, every bit as strong as she’d reckoned the other night. Yet every bit as soft and needy as he’d thought.

Sensitive. Insatiable.

The sensual promise between them had been strong, but the reality had been a revelation. Her unfettered response had pulled an intense reaction from him. As fantastic as sex usually was, that was spectacular.

He’d known she was emotional afterwards. You couldn’t allow yourself to be that exposed, experience sensations that extreme and not have a moment of vulnerability in the aftermath. He’d been the same. But he’d said nothing despite the weight in his chest—that heavy, aching feeling that had nothing to do with the physical. He recognized something within her that he shared—that thing that caused nightmares.

Pain. Loss. Fear.
 

But the only way to work through that intense aftermath was in a calm, quiet embrace. He’d kept her turned away from him to keep it purely physical. That was all this was and all it could ever be. He didn’t want to face her, to kiss her, to let her confuse comfort with caring of a deeper level. Because she was screwed up, no doubt about it. And so was he.
 

But she was trying hard to work through it and he respected that. He knew how much effort it took to come out the other side.

If it were only fantasy sex, some night-time companionship that she needed, he’d be happy to provide more. Having her underneath him—her breathing erratic, with those little whimpers escaping haphazardly—was insanely good. He’d do just about anything to have her like that again and again and again.

Except that was exactly what he
shouldn’t
do. Because she needed more than a few fun fucks. Already she’d clutched his arm closer. Needing contact. Comfort.

He regretted having to do it, but he knew it was the right thing. Carefully he slid his arm out of her hold. Very slowly he slipped off the bed, as silently as possible. He grabbed his clothes, tiptoeing through to her plant-packed lounge to put them on. It was a struggle but his cock could just quit with the erection already. He wasn’t doing her again. It wouldn’t be right. Not for her or, he had the feeling, for him.

He left her apartment and climbed the few flights of stairs to his own. He went straight to the shower to refresh, pulled on some jeans and sat at his desk. Not tired. Not hungry. Not going to think about her or the sweet taste of her that lingered despite that damn shower.

He glared at his computer and forced himself to focus. He finished two reports, researched a new proposal, got to the point of clearing his emails because it was a mindless click-click-click task he could zombie through. He still refused to think. Refused to let that wedge of regret widen.

His phone rang. He glanced at the screen and with a sigh picked it up to answer. No point trying to hide from Logan. Ever.

“Where are you?” Logan asked. “I have a zero-sugar, all caffeine soda on the bar.”

“Can’t,” Xander closed his eyes and rubbed them. “Working.”

“It’s nearly midnight, you geek. Come get a life.”

His cousin Logan had been teasing him about working too hard for the last eighteen years. Logan’s brother Connor had been more of a study buddy, but even he hadn’t had the urgency, the drive, that Xander had. Conner and Logan had their trust funds, their family millions to fall back on. Xander had nothing. His mother had nothing.

It had been Xander’s job to fix that.

Now he pushed his chair away from his desk and spun it so his back was to the screen. He stretched out his stiffened muscles. “I didn’t get as much done today as I’d like and this is a big project.”

“Yeah well, this is a big night. Lingerie fashion show, Xan, you really need to be at the after party. Rocco’s. Now.”

Of course the after-party was at Rocco’s bar. And of course ultimate-party-animal Logan was in the thick of it. It always amused Xander given Logan and Connor’s father was such workaholic, patronizing, controlling tyrant.

The punitive reaction of Xander’s uncle had meant his mother had been on a good behavior bond the rest of her life. Xander had too, while he’d lived there in the Hughes family compound. It was like any minute his uncle expected him to go bad.

He never had. Not evil bad—not like his father.

Instead he’d wanted to break himself and his mother free from the ‘good-willed’ oppression of their family. To earn enough for them not to have to be dependent on someone else’s damn magnanimous gestures. Because the charity had been so close to animosity. She’d been there under sufferance. Reminded daily what an ‘idiot’ she’d been. His uncle was an unforgiving bastard, but Xander’s mother had been too scared to leave her brother’s protection. And Xander didn’t blame her.

“Get Rocco to party with you.”

“He’s working. Hunter’s gone AWOL. You’re it.”

“Not tonight, Logan.” Last thing Xander felt like was an all-night party and the potential for another hook-up. He was still working through the intensity of this afternoon.

“Are you seriously turning down a night with these models? I’m talking glitter and ink. Girls who are excited and ready to party—”

“Like it’s 1999, yeah I got it. Not tonight.” Just the thought of it made him feel rocky.

“What’s wrong—you sick?” Logan asked.

Xander smiled. His cousin was as blunt and nosy as ever. “I’m crunched with a deadline. Got to get it done.”

“You still work too hard. You not got it through your head it’s not necessary anymore?”

Logan and Connor had never taken the hard-line attitude of their father. As kids they’d split everything they’d gotten three ways with Xander—or tried to. Xander refused much of it. But he knew they’d do the same with the property and the trust funds if they could. But he was never going to let them try.

“It’s necessary.” Xander stifled a groan. “You ever thought that maybe I like my job?”

They all knew the injustice of their grandfather’s will—that he’d cut Xander’s mother from it. It had made her dependent on the benevolence of her brother. She hadn’t had the energy or resources to contest it at the time. She hadn’t wanted to. She’d agreed. It didn’t make it right. The Hughes machine was too big a bulldozer. So Xander had worked. He’d succeeded. He’d skipped a year at school, started and completed his degree ahead of all those his own age. His strength?

Security—installing systems for all kinds of organizations. He’d started small—from cafes to bars to hotels and bigger businesses.

He’d won financial security for his mother. That had been his long-term goal and he’d done it. And in the process, he’d discovered success was addictive. He wanted to be the best in his industry. He’d formed a partnership with Hunter—who was a
personal
protection specialist—so they covered two aspects of the market. And now Hunter was looking out for cyber specialists as well. Physical security—premises and personal—was one thing, but the Internet element needed its own management. They wanted to be able to offer the full package. So work was taking almost all his time and energy. And that was good.

“I like my job too,” Logan said in the hard-edged tone that sent his assistants scurrying to obey. “Actually, I love it. I also like to party hard. You need better balance”

“I’ll find my Zen another day.” Xander grinned at his cousin’s obvious irritation. “Tonight I’m working.”

Logan’s growl of disapproval rattled down the line. “Fine. Be boring then.”

“You don’t need me anyway,” Xander soothed. “In five minutes you’ll have found some flexible twins or something and be upstairs in one of Rocco’s rooms, banging them both to nirvana.”

“Hmm.” Logan still didn’t sound pleased.

Xander finally tuned in to the fact that beneath Logan’s grouchy tease there was something else. “You jaded?”

There was a micro-pause. “Nah. You’re right. Twins. I guess I could work with that idea. Most of these models all look the same anyway.”

Jeez, he did sound bored and in a bad mood. “So why not see if you can find yourself a perfect pair.”

“Alright, I’ll go find a fucking orgy.” Logan hung up.

Xander put his phone down, looked at it in mild concern. Maybe he should go buddy with his cousin to jolly him out of that uncharacteristic grump. But knowing Logan, he really would find some twins. By the time Xander got there Logan would be out of sight and all action. Xander grimaced, his own grumpiness claiming him again. Last thing he wanted was to be with another woman. Maybe he’d forget about women for a little while. At any rate, there’d
never
be just
one
woman.

Having a family wasn’t something he was ever doing. His blood-line ended with him—the weakness and brutality of his father. And it had been enough to achieve security for his mother. He didn’t want to have to do it for a whole family of his own. He didn’t want more of that responsibility. He gave enough in his career, in his work. He just wanted fun. And usually the women he chose were easy, loving fun. Usually he didn’t stay awake for hours after sex. Usually he walked away feeling light, relaxed, and satisfied.

But he was so
unsatisfied
now—his capacity for sleep killed all because he kept seeing a pair of deep blue eyes and a lush red mouth in his mind.

Temptation bellowed in his blood.

There was only one way of coping. He’d leave town. He’d fly to Houston and personally check on that cinema project that Hunter had sent his way. The one that his most junior engineer had been forever on the phone to him about.

Out of sight, out of mind, right?

But two days later he still wasn’t sleeping, despite the literal distance he’d put between himself and temptation. He was still thinking about her. Still dreaming of a replay—dangerous territory. And then his phone rang again.

“Where the hell are you? I’m in trouble,” said Logan.

Xander tensed. “What kind of trouble?”

“Sleaze.” Logan growled. “It was your idea. It’s your fault.”

“What is?” Xander wasn’t in the mood for random charges.

“Check your email again.”

Keeping Logan on the phone, Xander quickly opened his inbox and clicked on the attachment Logan had sent. For a moment he just stared at the image. “Shit Logan—”

“How was I to know they were filming the whole thing?” Logan growled. “You ever meet women that hungry to be celebrities? It’s sick.”

Logan had definitely found look-a-like models. And he’d definitely done them—Xander had the photographic evidence in his hand. “They
filmed
it?”

“Uploaded it all over the Internet.”

Xander couldn’t help laughing.

“It’s not funny. You should hear Connor.”

“Connor’s come down on you?” That was unusual, Connor might appear to be the more serious, but he was as wild as any of them when it came to women.

“I’m the star of a fucking sex tape. It’s horrific.”

“You’re not the star Logan, the girls are.” Xander tried to make light of it. “Most of the footage will be of them, right?” Hell he hoped so.

Logan grunted.

Xander shook his head. “How did you not notice the camera?”

“I was getting my rocks off at the time. You never been flat on your back with a girl riding your cock and another on your face?”

“Jeez.” He hadn’t actually.

“Don’t ask for the U.R. Fucking L. I was drunk, alright? I didn’t know they were Playboy wannabes. Or bona fide porn stars. What the hell am I going to do?”

Clearly being proud wasn’t an option. “Carry on as normal. Never concede defeat. You’ve done nothing wrong—wait, they were both adult, right?”

“Of course they bloody were.”

“Well that’s okay then. Your privacy has been violated but there’s no getting the genie back in the bottle now. The horse has bolted.”

“The clichés aren’t helping.”

“Course they are. Chin up brother, ride out the storm.”

A string of cuss words came through the receiver and then the line went dead.

With a half laugh Xander immediately went online to look up flight times. He’d go home and see Logan. Together they’d swear off screwing around. They’d play sport or something instead. Neither of them needed a woman.

Chapter Ten

Chelsea rode the lift down aiming to hit the local deli and grab an instant meal. She was too tired to face the stairs even though she knew it would be good for her leg. Three days had passed since That Afternoon and she still thought of it whenever she let her brain off the leash. Tragic, right? She wasn’t some thirteen year old in the throes of her first ever crush. She was twenty-four, a post-grad student with brilliant grades—sure, she’d had some time out while she recovered from the accident, but now, just when she should be getting back on top, all her mushy brain could think about was Xander.

What he’d done to her. How he’d made her feel. And how much she wanted it again.