Ten Thousand Words (39 page)

“Yes, love?” he asked, looking me right in the eyes.

“I love you, too.”

Oliver’s face lit up, and his eyes twinkled like stars. Tossing the man-bag onto the seat, he yanked me into his arms, his mouth seizing mine in a kiss that left no doubts lingering within me.

I was his. He was mine. It was passionate, possessive, and the hottest kiss I’d ever experienced, hands down.

“I’ll be home soon,” he softly told me. Then, he was in the car, driving away, making my heart bleed a little for his absence.

Ollie

She loves me.

My heart sang that thought throughout the entire day. My Xanthe, my poetic goddess,
loved
me. She had told me she felt it, and now, I knew for certain that she did.

The photo shoot and interview were quick and painless, and I even stated that the reason I used their products was because my woman loved the way it smelled. I’d been grinning like an idiot when I confessed that to the man who’d created the line and conducted the interview, Deo Dahl.

Meeting him had been a shock to the senses. Deo looked like a cross between a Viking and a Maori warrior. Huge and bearded with a head of half-dreaded light-brown hair piled high on his crown, he had some strange tattoos above his left eyebrow and below his right eye, both of which were a startling shade of green. His face was stunning. I had to wonder why he’d felt the need to mark it. Perhaps it was because he was striking, and men of his size and strength just shouldn’t be. Every inch of exposed flesh from the neck down was heavily inked.

If I wasn’t so love-drunk on Xanthe, I might have had the wisdom to be intimidated. However, the man was good-natured and extremely polite. Maybe that was what I’d found so shocking. His appearance was nothing like his attitude.

Once again, I found myself walking to my flight’s gate, and I called up Trey to make sure he’d bought the bouquet of black tulips I’d asked him to get.

“Of course,” he replied. “I’ll be waiting in the pickup zone. See you soon.”

As the plane took off, I settled into the seat, closing my eyes, thinking that the time had finally come for me to go home. The closer I got to my destination, the more excited I became.

I ran off the plane, through the terminal, and out to the pickup zone where I located the Trey’s car. Hopping inside, he handed me the biggest bouquet of black tulips imaginable.

“Bloody hell!” I said, laughing.

“I wiped out the flower shop down the street from FairFawkes,” he replied. “Now, you listen to me, okay?” He pulled out into traffic.

“Listening,” I replied.

“Don’t fuck this up with her again, yeah? I finally have a shot with Rex.”

“I won’t,” I told him.

“I know,” said Trey softly.

Of all the men Trey had been with—and there had been a lot—Rex had had the ability to make Trey relax and be himself. Like he was with me. I had liked Rex back when they first dated, but we had known him as Richard. Only Xanthe and their crew ever called him Rex.

“We’re going out tonight when I drop you off. Have you called Xanthe to tell her you’re on the way?” Trey asked.

“I wanted to surprise her. She knows I’m coming over, just not the exact time.”

“All right.”

“What are you guys doing?”

“Late dinner and drinks. He has tomorrow free. So do you, by the way. After all this traveling, you could use a day off.”

I snorted. “Thanks, boss.”

Finally, we pulled up in front of Xanthe’s house. I barely told Trey good-bye while bounding out of the vehicle. Before I could knock, Rex opened the door, his face beaming.

Rex clapped me on the back. “She’s been stupid happy all day. Thanks for that.”

“None needed.”

Tulips clutched tight in one hand, I kicked off my shoes and headed for the stairs. When I reached her bedroom door, I found it once more cracked open wide enough to allow a fat ginger assassin to pass through. My love was sitting at her desk, her head of damp curls piled high, with a large pair of headphones squashed down on top. Cooled steam scented with her soap perfumed in the air, and I instantly went hard.

Xanthe was singing softly to something—“Under Pressure” by Queen. She nailed David Bowie, but Freddie Mercury was a pitch she wasn’t able to fully grasp. Even her bad singing was something that made me smile.

Tugging out one of the tulips from the bouquet, I walked up behind her, glancing at the computer screen. Her fingers clicked away at the keyboard at top speed, as though the story was pouring itself out through her fingertips. Taking the freed tulip, I gently traced it down her neck and shoulder.

An earsplitting shriek exploded out of her, and she ripped off her earphones.

Shit!
What the fuck was I thinking, sneaking up on her like that?

The chair swiveled, and I stepped back to give her space. Hand pressed over her heart, she stared up at me in terror, her glasses flashing with the light.

“Love, I’m sorry. That was stupid—”

“You scared the shit out of me!”

“I didn’t think. I just wanted to surprise you.”

My eyes drank in the sight of her in a pair of black cotton panties, fuzzy brown slipper boots, and a white button-down shirt.

My
white button-down shirt, the one I had left in her hotel room all those weeks ago.

Fuck me running…

She wasn’t wearing a bra. I could see her piercings through the fabric, and my cock swelled and strained against my slacks. Groaning, I tossed the flowers onto the bed and dropped to my knees before her. Reaching out, I grasped her hips, lifting her and tearing her panties down her legs and fuzzy slipper boots off her feet.

“Damn!” she gasped.

Draping her knees over my shoulders, I buried my face between her legs. Her fingers speared through my hair, tugging, spurring me on. Inhaling deeply, I groaned on my exhale.

Raspberries. Cinnamon. Honey and cream. No dessert had ever smelled—
oh, fuck me
—or tasted as fine as my Xanthe Love. Kissing and tonguing her softness, feeling her soak through my beard, I was in a state of bliss.

“Oliver…”

I’d never loved the sound of my name so much as I did in that very moment.

“I’m coming!” she panted.

Her fingers curled into my hair, pulling me in, as she writhed beneath my face. The sting of it was going to send me over the edge.

“Fuck!” she cried, her back arching, her thighs clamping around my head.

Fuck yes.

Yanking her out of the chair, I spread her out before me on the floor. Grabbing the two halves of the shirt, I ripped it open, baring my favorite breasts for my viewing pleasure.

“Hey!” she protested. “I sleep in this.”

God, that nearly made me come in my pants.

“You can have your pick of all of my shirts, love,” I told her, shrugging out of the suspenders.

She reached for my button and fly as I unbuttoned my shirt enough to tug it over my head.

“We’re doing it your way tonight.”

“My way?”

“Yeah. Getting the first one out of the way, and then I’ll be able to fuck you all night long.”

She snorted with laughter, and my dick tingled.

Shit, I’m not going to make it!

Tearing off my undershirt and pushing my pants and boxers past my arse, I grabbed my dick and rubbed myself through her slick seam.

“Um…” she hummed.

I looked up into her eyes, floored by just how beautiful she was.

“Condom?”

“Do we need one?” I asked.

She bit her bottom lip, staring into my eyes for a few heartbeats, before shaking her head.

I sank into her hot, wet body, and I knew when I was as deep as it was possible that I wasn’t going to last. She gripped me hard, and I fell on top of her like an jackass and started pounding away.

“I can’t do it right this time. I’ll make it up to you. I’m sorry,” I breathed against her mouth.

“I’m not,” she whispered back, wrapping her arms and legs around me, holding me into her, letting me just lose myself.

Cradling her head in my hands, I tried to make love to her mouth with my own since my body couldn’t be bothered to show the same consideration. She offered me everything with that kiss, swallowing my moans and the hellish roar of my release into herself.

I’d never come so fucking fast in my life.

Xanthe

Once Oliver’s breathing returned to normal, he laughed. He kissed my lips, my cheeks, my chin, my nose, holding my face in his strong, elegant hands. I could feel him smiling against my skin with each delivered kiss.

“What?” I asked, unable to keep the smile off my own face.

“I’m just so fucking happy,” he replied. “That was, by far, the best sex I’ve ever had and my absolute worst sexual performance.”

That made me giggle. “I don’t know about the worst. That was, by far, the hottest oral I’ve ever had.”

Resting his weight on his elbows, he raised his head to look down into my eyes. Oliver’s eyes were soft and glowing, full of love. It humbled me, knowing that I was the one who made him look like that.

“I’ve been dying to get my mouth on you for so long.” Kissing me one last time, he slowly pulled out and rolled off me. “Fuck,” he grunted. “I wanted our
second
first time to be this epic moment—”

I laughed. “I thought it was!”

“I fucked you on the floor and came within two minutes.”

“It was hot. And sexy. And awesome. I loved it,” I told him, sitting up.

He sat up, too, and peeled the rest of his clothes off. “I’ve never worn socks during sex. I’m well ashamed of myself now.”

Standing, I made my way to the bed, finding the bouquet of black tulips. “How lovely,” I murmured, picking them up.

Oliver was standing next to me. “I assumed they were your favorite. Are they?”

I nodded.

“You reveal much of yourself in your writing,” he said.

Taking the flowers from me and placing them back at the foot of the bed, Oliver’s hands then went to my shoulders and slowly pulled the ruined shirt down my arms. He kissed the back of my neck, trailing more kisses over my left shoulder. Shivers danced pleasantly from the base of my skull to my tailbone. He nipped the sensitive skin at my nape before continuing to kiss his way over my right shoulder. His crotch brushed my rear, and my knees grew weak.

“Lie down on the bed, love,” he said.

I crawled to the center and rolled onto my side, watching his large body follow gracefully. I wanted to rub myself all over his lightly furred chest, feel the scratch of the hair over my breasts and belly. Just watching his naked form in motion left my mouth dry.

“On your back,” he told me, his voice deep and warm, promising I’d enjoy myself if I did as he commanded. “Close your eyes.”

Doing as I had been told, I caught the scent of tulip right before the silken petals teased my lips and caressed over my chin and down my neck.

“Why black tulips?” Oliver asked.

“I just think they’re pretty,” I replied. “Different.”

“Like you,” he said, trailing the flower over my tattoo and around my breast.

I felt him lean over me, his beard brushing my skin, as he tongued the nipple. He sucked briefly before gently sinking his teeth in, just until it stung, and then he kissed and blew his breath over it.

The tulip skimmed its way over to the other breast, and Oliver delivered the same treatment with his mouth to that one. Both nipples were now fiercely hard, making my breasts ache while sending thick swirling sensations to my core. I squeezed my thighs together in the hopes of counter-pressuring my swiftly building arousal.

“Open your legs, Xanthe,” he told me in a husky voice, intent on making me as horny as possible.

“Oliver…” I whispered.

“Do it,” he said, his voice brooking no argument.

My thighs spread slightly, and the tulip danced its way over my vagina, twirling delicately over the lips. Oliver began kissing his way down, his warm body sliding along mine. Surely, he wouldn’t want to do that, not after he’d—

Holy shit, he is!

His mouth closed gently over me, and he sucked on my clit.

“Oh God…” I moaned, parting my thighs just that much more.