CUL-DE-SAC (On The Edge Book 1) (25 page)

CHAPTER 30

Catalina put the fish in the oven and set
the timer, giving Xan a chance to collect his thoughts… or back down and
withhold his story. She didn’t think he would, but forcing it out of him didn’t
make any sense either.

She poured olive oil into the skillet and
set it on medium heat, letting it simmer. She added spinach, garlic, salt and
pepper, cooking it less than a minute with an occasional stirring.

Xan was watching her silently when she
removed the skillet from heat and tossed the spinach with the dry tomatoes, chopped
by him, along with pine nuts. She took out another bowl from the cabinet next
to her right, dishing up the ready salad.
“We can eat on the terrace if it is fine with you.” She smiled at him and
nothing in her behavior would suggest she just shared with him the most painful
experience of her life.

No, Catalina looked as collected as ever if
one didn’t look too closely into her blue eyes. The truth was buried deep down
there where nothing and no one could threaten who she was on the innermost
level.

Propriety was her second skin, but he
doubted many understood it had become her shield as well. He was just beginning
to fathom it himself, to recognize the smallest shifts in her behavior, tiniest
signs spinning another story about her than what she tried to portray on the
surface.

And the more he learned, the more he craved
her, until wanting her had come to be as obvious and natural a part of him as
breathing. He didn’t want it, surely didn’t need it, but between one moment and
the next she imperceptibly started to matter to him.

Well fuck
, he thought only.
“Yeah, it’s fine with me,” Xan said, while he just realized it wasn’t fine at
all and by that he didn’t mean having dinner outside.
“I bet you love to sit here at the end of the day,” he commented as they
carried everything outside and took their places.
“Yes, everything seems to fade away when you look at the ocean… if only
temporarily. But it gives me perspective,” she agreed.
“I don’t have a view like that from my apartment.”
“So much for the grief you gave me about living in the club. For the record I
didn’t believe you anyway.” She made a face at him.
“Why?” He tilted his head regarding her curiously.
“You don’t strike me as a man who would be satisfied with the lack of privacy
for starters.”
“You are right… again, but I still could have been living there. In fact I was
for many years and the room in the club is not so far away from the place I
grew up in. Some might say it’s an upgrade really.” He looked at her and
Catalina held his gaze.

No, talking about it wouldn’t be easy but
it was like an elephant in the room; they could still pretend it wasn’t there
but its presence was undeniable.
“Our dinner, Catalina,” Xan reminded.
“Give me five minutes.” She ran inside the house, silently cursing the timer
that went off.

Timing was always the thing, wasn’t it?

It took her eight minutes to return to be
precise and Xan counted only because it helped him to ground himself in the
present. Same as with the smell of the light breeze coming from the ocean and aromas
wafting to him from the kitchen… and Cat.

No matter what, all seemed to always return
to her.
“I won’t be offended if you don’t like it.” She smiled when he lifted a fork to
his mouth.
“Are you kidding me? It’s delicious.” He leaned in to kiss her on the lips
because she was a constant temptation, beating like an additional pulse within
him.
“I’m glad. So… tell me about the place Alex grew up in.” She picked up right
where he stopped before.

Such an innocent request and yet it managed
to change the taste of fish into sawdust in his mouth, Xan noticed, forcing
himself to swallow a mouthful anyway.

He was used to women who wanted to fuck him
or wanted him to fuck them. Some wanted to change him, others save him from
whatever they deemed necessary.

But nobody had ever wanted to simply listen
to him like she did.
“It was Hell’s Kitchen–a bad part of New York which was home to poor and
working class Irish-Americans at the time. Even though it was already changing
it wasn’t in the shape known today. Alexander didn’t have Irish roots… as far
as he knew, but he was pretty sure his father had never tried an honest day’s work
throughout his entire life. But they were most definitely poor,” Xan agreed.

He didn’t think he could paint a faithful
picture of his reality back then. It wasn’t that his memories were not clear
enough; if anything they were too vivid. It was just that a person had to see
it to fully comprehend what he was talking about.
“The thing Alexander remembers from his childhood the best were screams. It
seemed like the whole world was yelling: his neighbors and the constant echo of
police sirens. His mother’s cries were nothing more but another element of the
same music background of his childhood. Then he started to differentiate between
them.

“His father was a guest at the house.
Mostly an unwelcome one, and his presence always felt electrifying. His rare
good moods were as dangerous as the broody ones because they all had one thing
in common: they could change in the blink of an eye and result in brutality. Somehow
it usually was Alexander who got punished for Robert’s Thorpe misfortunes and
disappointments, although his mother wasn’t much luckier.” He glanced at Cat to
gauge her reaction.
“Did she… try to protect her child?” Catalina asked.
“Hell no. Maybe once or twice when Alexander was younger, but he wouldn’t be
able to recall one instance even if his life depended on it.” And he wanted it badly,
Xan realized.

The child he was then needed at least one
grown-up on his side. It had never happened and it was just one of the bitter
lessons of life, he supposed.
“It didn’t take Alexander long to understand his days were numbered. He was a
skinny little shit who couldn’t fight a fly, much less the big scary son of a
bitch,” he snapped, and she caught herself before she could offer him comfort
with touch.

She stopped her hand from laying it on him
because right now he was in the past, talking about the warped ways a touch
could be turned into.

Cat thought that the need for fighting
sprouted from his childhood, when all he wanted was to protect himself from
someone whom he wasn’t supposed to be forced to.

But she knew life was not the fairy tale
she once believed it to be and bad things happened to good people all the time.

Righteousness didn’t always prevail.
“What happened next?” She asked.
“Alexander was around ten years old when things got really bad. Broken nose,
bones, you name it. He stopped going to school and a social worker came to his
home, which equaled lies and harsher punishments as if that was his fault. Back
then everything seemed to be. His father was never to be blamed for any misery
he caused. The more obvious the fault was his, the more he kept denying it.” He
was surprised to feel Cat’s delicate fingers on his nose.

Surprised and embarrassed both, but he
didn’t push her away, craving all she could give him.
“The very first time we met… I thought the slight curve to your nose was due to
your occupational hazard. Now I know,” she whispered.

Now she knew
, he thought, and
could already see pity written all over her aristocratic features. His gut
tightened because it was the reaction he was sure of and he hated it almost as
viciously as the man who gave him life.
“Don’t look at me like that, Catalina. I don’t need you to feel sorry for me. I
am hardly the first and far from being the last kid who had shit rough. I
survived.”
“There is more to life than surviving, Xan.” Of course her heart went to the
little boy he was back then, but the man he was today inspired very different
and very complicated emotions in her.
“I feel sorry for that child, Xan, and I admire who you became.”

Was she serious?
He wondered.
“Don’t delude yourself, Cat; I am just like him. I am good at destroying things
just like he was, or have you forgotten how we met?”
“I haven’t, but I am here Xan. I am with you now. We are not what happened to
us but what we manage to make out of uneven cards. Ask Tristan if you don’t
believe me,” she tried for a lighter tone and he chuckled, taken by surprise.
“He would definitely agree with you,” Xan said.

She couldn’t even imagine how close she was
to the truth about Tristan, he thought.
“Has Alexander ever doubted his father’s… paternity?” She wanted to know.

“Alexander liked to think his father wasn’t
really his parent at all, because the hate he inspired in him didn’t make sense
to him. Still doesn’t.”

Of course it didn’t, she thought, how could
it?
“Some people are full of hate directed at themselves without even realizing it.
So they strike at others because they can’t handle their own emotions. They
choose an easier out and target especially those who can’t fight back.” Cat
said. “Yet Alexander survived.”
“Alexander ran away when he was around twelve years old and he was on his own
since then. Sometimes I think he died there so Xan could take his place.”
“He was just a child.” Both were, she thought but didn’t say it out loud.
“I don’t think he had ever been one,” he told her.
“Has he ever seen either one of his parents again?”
“He… kept tabs on them. Robert Thorpe was arrested several times for different
kind of crimes I am sure he committed. His rap sheet is pretty impressive. And
Nina Thorpe was left on her own.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter.

She could only imagine how much he left out,
but the images plaguing her mind now were more than enough to paint the whole
picture.
“You thought I wouldn’t understand, Xan?” Cat asked quietly. “Or that it would
make me look at you differently?”
“It’s usually one or the other,” he smirked.
“A few slaps across the face I received from my grandmother can’t even compare
to what you went through but…”
“There is no
but,
Cat!” He snapped, jumping to his feet and cutting her
off. “You believe in getting help from the system, the same I tried to stay
away from my whole life. You think charity makes a change and I know it really
doesn’t unless you count making those who participate in it feel better about
themselves. Our lives are worlds apart!”
“Yet our paths have crossed Xan,” she reminded him and got up as well.

She took a step forward and stopped in
front of him.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Catalina, but look what I already did to you.” He
sighed and raised his hand to her cheek.

She leaned into the touch as if she
couldn’t comprehend the filthiness he came from, which clung to his skin and was
threatening to soil her now as well.

Cat went to her toes not taking her eyes
off him and laid her lips on his. Her fingers shook slightly but there was no
doubt in her when she opened a button of his shirt and then another.

Xan’s body stilled under her touch and he
leaned back to look at her.
“I just want to make sure your decision has nothing to do with you feeling
sorry for me,” he said, and she wanted to answer but the seriousness of his
expression ensured her he might not believe her words anyway.
“It has to do with the fact I waited long enough to see your tattoos up close
and personal. Now strip,” she demanded, deciding to trust her instinct and was
relieved when he uttered an involuntary chuckle.

CHAPTER 31

Tenderness had never been a part of Xan’s
education and he regretted it now because Catalina surely deserved someone
capable of gentleness.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to tell me that,” he murmured
and covered her hands with his own, feeling lighter than he thought possible.

Especially after reliving the hated memory
of his past.

He knew it was all her doing; she was giving
him what the ocean was offering to her–perspective. She was causing things to
fade away, not until they disappeared completely but where they were becoming
bearable
.

He shook his head, pushing strange thoughts
aside, not wanting to miss out anything from this moment with her.

His shirt was unbuttoned in no time and he
let it drop to the ground. Xan sucked in a breath when Cat’s hands rose to his
chest and moved in a sensuous way over it.

His muscles tensed when her fingers stopped
on one of his scars and then moved onto another.

Her head snapped up and her expressive eyes
widened, comprehension dawning in them.

He wasn’t vain, but he would have preferred
to ascribe her reaction to the way his muscles were rippling and being
impressed by the tattoos she said she wanted to see.

But he knew better and gritted his teeth.
“Oh, Xan,” she whispered, and his throat tightened with an emotion dangerously
close to shame.

He bent down and reached for his shirt,
wanting to put it back on, but she gripped the piece of clothing and tugged at
it angrily.
“Don’t. No more hiding.” She wanted to rage and cry when she understood that
the tattoos she was admiring before were not so much about what they depicted,
but his way of covering his scars.

Perhaps she would have taken them as
mementos of the battles he fought, but now she knew they were weaving much more
horrible and painful tale about his childhood.

How much abuse could a person suffer and
not break? She wondered while her heart started to shed the tears she didn’t
allow her eyes to show.

Xan let the shirt drop to the floor again,
clenching his fists when she moved around him and he felt a feathery glide of
her fingers on his back now. Her touch was barely there as if she was afraid of
causing him pain.

His muscles locked when her lips followed
and he had to close his eyes as she kissed his childhood old scars.

What was she trying to do to him? Xan asked
himself but didn’t dare question her, just as he didn’t have the courage to
stop her ministrations.

He hissed out a breath when she wrapped her
arms tightly around his waist, pressing her soft breasts into his rigidly
tensed back. He couldn’t take it any longer and he tugged her in front of him
again. She gasped and smiled when he curved his arm beneath her knees and
lifted her until he was cradling her in his arms.
“Let’s take it to the bedroom, Kitten, unless you want to offer your neighbors
an eyeful.”

Catalina opened up her mouth to direct him
but he faultlessly found the way on his own, and she remembered he came close
enough that night when she was patching up his hand.

Who would have thought they had ended up
together after those tempestuous first meetings? She was too much intrigued by
him even then, she admitted, but she didn’t think she was brave enough to face
him and her own desires.
“No thinking allowed tonight, Catalina,” he told her as if reading her mind
when they entered her bedroom.

He slid her down the length of his body
until her feet touched the ground and chuckled when she blushed in response to
the hot imprint of the erection he wouldn’t be able to hide even if he wanted
to.
“This is how much I want you, Kitten,” he told her, taking her hand in his and
guiding it to the fly of his jeans.

He groaned when she gave him a little
squeeze.
“Don’t tease, Catalina,” he warned, picking her up again just to unceremoniously
throw her on the big bed.
“Hey!” She protested and tried to right herself but a moment later, he was on
her, straddling her and manacling her arms above her head.

She bucked once, twice, but her efforts
were futile.
“I can’t win with someone who knows all the dirty tricks,” she protested, and
the pouting note in her voice made him lean down and nip playfully at her
bottom lip.

His mouth wandered lower and he licked her
neck in the place where the throbbing of her pulse was the most detectable.
“Don’t be afraid, I won’t harm you,” he promised, but she shook her head.
“I know you won’t. I trust you, Alex,” she looked him in the eye and he was
lost.

He let go of her hands and felt them on his
chest again, sliding down just to stop at the top button of his jeans. He
didn’t stop her, curious how far she would go even though the sight of those
delicate fingers, their soft touch so close to his aching cock, was more
torture than pleasure.

She glanced up at him, catching his gaze
and hesitated.
“Don’t stop when it was just getting interesting, Catalina.” He smirked
purposefully, daring her to continue, and her lips curved slightly in a smile
his brain could only translate as
wicked
.
“Maybe I changed my mind?”
“Don’t even joke like that.” He was sure that pulling back this time would kill
him.

She laughed, but the sound cut short when
he reached for the edges of her T-shirt and pulled it off over the top of her
head. His mouth dried up at the sight of purple lace covering her breasts. They
were moving temptingly, invitingly with her every breath.
“You better take it off; it would be shame to destroy it,” he told her
seriously and watched her unhooking her bra and peeling it off her delectable
body.

Fuck, she was perfect, he thought,
devouring her with his eyes. The surprisingly lush weight of her breasts
against the delicately tanned and slight built of her body, the darker tone of
her nipples urging him to bend his head and circle them with his tongue, one
after another.

Catalina moaned and her body arched toward
him, so he continued his slow exploration, learning her shape and taste,
getting addicted to both before moving to the flat plane of her abdomen and
laving her belly button.

His fingers made short work of the buttons
on her jeans and he was pulling them down along with the miniscule panties
matching her discarded and already forgotten bra.

She tensed but he didn’t give her a chance
to protest, nuzzling at the apex of her thighs concealing the moist proof of
her desire.
“Xan!” Cat cried out, feeling ashamed all of a sudden.
“Don’t. No more hiding,” he told her, and she smiled when she understood he had
repeated her earlier words, directing them at her this time.
“It’s only fair if you take off your jeans,” she said.
“I can do that,” he agreed, eagerly rising off the bed in a lighting fast move to
kick off his shoes and strip off his pants.

He looked at her lying down on the bed like
the personal banquet he had every intention of gorging himself on, but her
beautiful blue eyes were fixed on him as if she was reconsidering the wisdom of
her decision to invite him to her bed and offer him her body.

A virgin, he reminded himself.
“Are you with me, Kitten?” He asked roughly because his erection was pulsating
painfully if shamelessly under her transfixed gaze.
“Yes.” She nodded and he didn’t sense any hesitation in her.
“Spread your thighs, Cat,” Xan demanded harshly, crawling back onto the bed.

She blushed furiously but did as he asked
and a moment later his hot hand was on her abdomen sliding lower, parting her
intimate flesh as if he had done it a dozen times before.

She gasped, gripping his wrist and he
paused, looking up at her.
“I want to learn you, Cat. Let me.” He wanted it to be a request, yet it turned
into another rough order but she didn’t seem to mind his intensity.

He leaned closer, covering her abdomen with
tiny teasing kisses while his strong hands met the insides of her thighs and
boldly pushed them apart.

She didn’t protest this time, didn’t even
think about it because the next moment his hot breath whispered over her and
her eyelids slid close.

He wanted to go slow and make her used to
his touch, but the moment his fingers found her he couldn’t think about
anything other than sinking into her tight sheath.

His tongue lapped at her intimately and her
body arched like a bow.
“You are beautiful,” he told her when her hands clenched convulsively around the
sheet. “But you are not allowed to go without me.” He left her quivering sex,
climbing up her body and pulling her leg over his naked hips.

“Shit,” Xan muttered, realizing he forgot
about the Trojan currently burning a hole in the back pocket of his jeans.
“What?” Catalina blinked at him, trying to absorb and understand all emotions
accompanying having him skin to skin.
“We need protection, Kitten.” He ran his tongue along the lower curve of her
left breast and her hands gripped his biceps this time.
“It’s okay. I am on a pill.” It took too much effort to focus on conversation
when she was losing her train of thought.
“I’ve never done it without a condom,” he murmured.
“If you don’t want…”
“Ah, but I do.” The idea alone made him harder even though he didn’t think it
possible.

His fingers found her again and he rubbed
at the entrance to her body. She was small but so slick.

He couldn’t wait any longer. Xan raised
himself on his arms looking down at her.
“Tell me you want this, you want
me,
” he demanded, needing to hear the
words even though the response of her body couldn’t be mistaken for anything
else.
“I do, Xan,” Cat said and sucked in a breath, feeling him so big and hot
stroking into her slowly but insistently.

His head dropped onto her arm and he closed
his eyes because the heat of her was so damn tempting he was afraid he was
going to lose control and thrust into her the way he wanted to, hard and deep.
“Wrap your legs around me, Kitten.” He gritted between his clenched teeth and
when she did he pushed all the way in to the hilt.

Her stunned gasp whispered over his
shoulder and his mouth found hers to soothe her.
“It’s too much,” Cat complained, shuddering.
“Are you sure?” He paused and closed his teeth over one of her nipples.

Her body instinctively rocked toward him
and he groaned.

“Careful, it seems to me like it is not
enough, Catalina.” He hissed out a breath.

Hell, he wasn’t a suitable lover for a
virgin, because all he wanted was to push into her mindlessly until they were
both spent and satisfied.

He reached down to cup her buttocks and
angle her for a deeper penetration which she just told him she was not ready
for. But her hips kept rising to meet his and that was his cue. He slid back
out slowly just to slide right back in to the hilt.

This time Catalina didn’t protest and her
long moan told him she was keeping up with him. His next strokes were harder
and faster and Cat’s mind fogged over.

His eyes were hot and utterly focused on
her, attuned to her every response no matter how slight. He was trying to be
gentle with her in spite of the desire running rampant through his body.

She raised her hand, touching his jaw
soothingly because it was clenched so hard she thought his teeth must ache.

Yet the thought fractured and she couldn’t
concentrate enough when his thrust gained in strength and he was taking her
like nothing mattered but chasing something that kept eluding her.

When the ecstasy finally caught up with her,
Catalina’s back bowed and a scream was torn from her throat. She broke to
pieces but Xan’s strong arms were there to ride the storm out with her, bring
her down to safety and make her whole once more.