Wicked Lovers 07 Ours to Love (41 page)

“I wasn’t making the best use of my time.” Xander sent Javier a pointed look.

“An understatement,” he grumbled.

“Shut it, big brother.” Xander leaned forward and reached for London’s hand. “What
Javier is trying to say by throwing me under the bus is that we all work better together.
And we don’t want to lose you.”

“Work better? Of course.” She drew in a shaky breath and pulled her fingers from Xander’s.
“I won’t quit until after we unveil Project Recovery. We’ve got more than three weeks—”

“Fuck Project Recovery right now.” Javier stood and glared. “United Velocity won’t
be launching one, so we have time to bring our new research on board and do it right,
before we unveil the project. The pressure is off for the moment, little one. Work
is the furthest thing from my mind right now.”

“It is?” Hope entered those blue eyes again, and he hadn’t realized that she still
sincerely doubted their feelings until that moment. “You said work, so I—”

“Because he can be a fucktard,” Xander groused and stood on her other side, caressing
her arm—and looking like he wanted to touch a whole lot more. “He means us.” He grinned.
“And work is the furthest thing from my mind, too.”

Clearly, Xander was hoping there would be a sex portion to the day and that they could
skip to it now, but first things first.

Javier sent his brother a heavy stare. “London has come to say something. Let’s let
her speak.”

Xander surprisingly didn’t balk. He sat back and studied London. “Go ahead,
belleza
.”

She paced a little, her pale curls swaying across her back. As she spun, he saw the
determination on her face. “When I came out of my coma just before the rest of my
high school class was graduating, I was told I’d never walk again. I’d been a cheerleader,
an athlete, a dancer. I couldn’t imagine . . . I refused to believe it. I think the
doctors humored me by letting me do physical therapy. It took a few years, but I slowly
resumed some motion and feeling in my legs, regained some muscle tone. But it was
really slow. I was depressed a lot. I ‘medicated’ some of it with food. I gained a
lot of weight. Then I didn’t know what to do. I thought my life was over at twenty-one.”

Javier’s heart hurt for her. “You’re beautiful as you are, little one. Don’t believe
any different.”

“I love your curves,” Xander seconded.

“Thank you. I’ve lost some of the weight. I’d like to lose a bit more to be happy.”

“We want you happy,” Javier assured with a smile.

London sent him an absent smile in return. “About a year ago, I got a new physical
therapist. He helped with muscle strength and fine motor skills in particular. Brian
was smart, patient, funny, gorgeous. He didn’t feel like just a therapist, but a friend.
He asked me out. I’d just turned twenty-four and was going out on my first date. It
sounds crazy, but I’d devoted so many years to just trying to be ‘normal’ again. Our
first date went really well. He kissed me, told me he liked me and wanted to see me
again. I was like a teenage girl, so giddy.”

Javier didn’t know exactly where this story was going, but he knew it couldn’t end
happily or ol’ Brian would still be in the picture. “Naturally. Despite your age,
you’d never had the normal teenage experiences.”

She nodded. “Everything was great until, after a swimming session, I went to change
back into my clothes. I got into my bra and panties, then realized that, since I’d
used my T-shirt as a cover-up, I’d left it by the pool. I ran out there to get it,
certain he’d gone.”

She bit her lip, and Javier knew exactly what she was going to say. He wanted to kill
Brian, but didn’t dare interrupt London. She needed to get this out.

Xander had a little less restraint and growled beside him. “Stupid motherfucker.”

Totally true, but Javier elbowed him anyway. “Let her finish.”

“I’m sure you can guess. He saw my back. We had this super awkward conversation about
my accident and the surgeries afterward. It was . . . clinical. And the day of our
next date, he texted me to say that he didn’t think it was professional to date clients.
When I showed up to my next training session, I’d been reassigned to this beautiful
brunette who looked great in a bikini. I found out later that Brian started dating
her shortly after he dumped me.”

Javier clenched his fists. Questions perched on the tip of his tongue. Maybe Brian
hadn’t thought it smart to date clients after all, but he wasn’t going to give the
asshole the benefit of the doubt. He would simply make London feel better by loving
her.

“He wasn’t worth you,
belleza
.” Xander rose and approached her slowly.

Standing as well, Javier circled the other side of the coffee table and closed in
on her. “If he couldn’t see the lovely woman underneath—”

“Stop! You think you like me. You think my face or boobs or whatever is nice. I’ve
only let you see the best, but you seem to want to see it all. Fine, but don’t say
another word until you’ve seen my worst.” She looked on the verge of tears, her nose
reddening, her lips pressing together as she tried to hold them back. “Not even a
sound. If you heap kind words on me and then decide you can’t handle all of me, it
will hurt so much worse.”

That was never going to happen. And a part of Javier wanted to be angry that she’d
cast him and Xander into Brian’s mold, but he reminded himself that she had no other
experience. She’d met a shallow boy. Now, he intended to make sure she knew the difference
between that and the men who loved her. A glance confirmed that he and Xander were
absolutely on the same page.

Shoving down the reassurances he wanted to speak, Javier simply nodded. Beside him,
Xander did the same.

“Thank you.” London drew in a bracing breath that shuddered instead. Then she walked
to a patch of sunlight slanting through the window, glowing into the room, and reached
for the zipper at her side.

Slowly, she drew it down, the zipper a soft hiss in the otherwise quiet air. Anticipation
clawed Javier’s insides. His heart pounded. When it reached her hip and gaped open
over the lush indentation of her waist, she brushed one strap off her shoulder. The
other followed, and she pushed the dress beneath her breasts, revealing a lacy white
demi-bra with clear straps. She unbuttoned the wrap-around bottom at her waist, and
the white eyelet parted to reveal her thighs and the delta between. Javier swallowed,
his mouth watering. He clenched his fists to keep himself from touching her. She needed
to get this out, and he had to let her.

She pushed the dress down over her hips, revealing the fact that her white panties
were small and inviting, and he hoped like hell it was a thong because he loved her
ass. Next, she stripped off her shoes, setting them aside efficiently. A long pause
followed. London gathered air and courage. Javier sent her an encouraging stare. He
could see her body tensing, her heart beating madly at the base of her neck. Silence
strangled the room.

Reaching behind her, she unhooked her bra and slid it down her arms. The instant her
breasts came into view, Javier had to hold himself back. It had been less than two
days since he’d been inside her, and it felt more like ten years. Beside him, Xander
clenched his fists and stared at her as if he couldn’t wait to eat her up.

The panties came next as she hooked her thumbs in the waistband and drew the scrap
of white fabric down over her thighs, past her knees, letting them puddle at her feet.
London kicked them aside, and Javier zeroed in on the pink flesh of her slit, wanting
his fingers there, his mouth. His cock. Yes, right there—always.

“You’re gorgeous.” Xander’s voice cracked. Not much rattled his brother, but Javier
had no doubt he meant every word.

“More than beautiful,” he added. “I know you don’t want us to say that, but I can’t
help telling you how lovely you are to me.”

“Please . . . let me finish.” Fear throbbed just under the surface of her façade.
She tried so hard to be strong and brave, and he admired her for it.

And she would never believe that they would gladly lend her their strength every day
for the rest of their lives until they passed this test.

“Sorry, little one. Go on.”

London took another long pause. “If you’re not ready or willing to accept this part
of me, do one thing for me? Don’t give me any excuses. I can’t handle platitudes.
Just leave the room and shut a door behind you. Then . . . I’ll know.”

Chapter Twenty-one

J
AVIER
blinked in shock. She imagined for a moment that either of them were going to abandon
her without a word? Never. That would fucking never happen, ever. Beside him, Xander’s
eyes widened. He was clearly grappling with the shock of that request every bit as
much as he was.

But Xander had been telling him for months that being a Dom was about giving a sub
what she needed. Right now, that was reassurance that he could be sensitive to her
request, her fragility. That didn’t make him a patient man, however.

“If that’s the way you want it, fine. But no more hesitation, little one. Show us
what’s ours now and let us . . .”
Make you feel every bit as beautiful as you should
. “Let whatever is going to happen, happen.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor. So automatic, it had to be unconscious. If Javier hadn’t
already been so hard just seeing her naked and soft in front of him, that would have
stiffened him instantly.

“Yes, Sir.”

Another deep breath. A willful lift of her shoulders. A trembling of her chin. Javier
ached to touch her so badly.

With two steps she turned around, and he could see every inch of her bare back. She
knelt, head bowed, exposing not just her body, but her soul. And, breath held, she
waited.

Her skin bespoke the tragedy and pain she’d suffered. Deep gouges in jagged patterns
zigzagged across her lower back, most a puckered pale pink. Other scars heaped on
top, fresher, straighter. Surgery. Judging from the amount of incisions, more than
one. Javier would ask her for details later, when she felt comfortable that the answers
didn’t matter to them. Now wasn’t that time.

A glance at his brother showed tears glossing his eyes.
Oh my God,
he mouthed. And he ached for her agony. Javier wished he could take that from her,
endure it for her. Xander obviously wished the same. But London’s past was part of
what made her the woman who knelt before them now.

He nodded at Xander, agreeing with all the silent promise in his brother’s gaze to
finish her healing and make her whole. They’d do it together.

As one, they dropped to their knees behind her. He couldn’t wait another moment to
touch her. Neither of them could. She’d been broken and unsure, adrift and afraid.
Now they had to put her together, lend her their conviction, and help her find her
way home.

Cupping her left hip, he braced himself over her, breathing across her shoulders.
Xander did something similar, and London’s breath caught on a little gasp. God, she’d
really expected them to leave her. Eventually, they’d paddle her ass for that, once
she was more secure. Once they could tease her about being so wrong. Now, she needed
to know they were here for her.

He brushed his hand down her back, fingers slowing as he closed in on her injuries.
He lingered over the tracework of her scars. One bisected another. He didn’t look,
just felt. The one he followed now with a gentle touch had been deep and probably
caused at least temporary nerve damage. A quick mental picture of her trapped in twisted
metal, bleeding, crying, so young . . . Fuck, that hurt. He pressed his lips between
her shoulder blades.

“On your hands and knees,
belleza
,” Xander demanded, his voice low but gentle.

Her shuddering cry tugged at his heart, but she did it, giving them a better angle
to access the damage to her body. He saw it even more clearly as the sun illuminated
her, bathing her in golden light. All he saw was the pain she’d endured and skin he
wanted to kiss. He might not be able to make it better, but he could assure her that
her heart mattered to him more than her scars.

Xander grabbed both her hips, angling directly behind her and lowered his lips to
a deep gouge directly above her right cheek. Javier did the same on the left, brushing
his lips across her pink and red scars, his tongue tracing one that must have bled
so much and hurt so deep. London let loose another gasp, trembling, and he glanced
around her to see her fingers digging into the beige carpet. She’d hung her head and
squeezed her eyes shut.

And tears slid down her angelic face.

Javier’s heart squeezed in his chest. “Little one, don’t cry. You’re still so beautiful
to us. You’re always going to be beautiful.”

“Forever,” Xander promised in between kisses. “These aren’t scars. They’re a testament
to your strength. We’re so amazed by you. And so grateful for you.”

Damn, he was proud of his brother. Javier couldn’t have said it better himself.

London sobbed, her body shaking with each breath. And he’d had enough waiting. She’d
spilled everything she needed to. Now it was their turn.

Still on his knees, Javier turned her around to kneel in their waiting arms. She raised
stormy, vulnerable eyes to him, so wet and lost. He kissed her forehead. “Look at
me and don’t look away.”

She nodded, clutching his shoulder with one hand and his brother’s with the other.
“Yes, Sir.”

God, every time she said that was even more arousing than the last.

“I don’t need to see your scars. They aren’t important. They’re nothing. What I value—what
I need—is your heart. Your soul. I love you.”

Her mouth fell open with a shocked, silent gasp.

Xander wrapped firm fingers around her chin and brought her gaze to him. “He took
all the pretty words, rat bastard, but I think I looked at you dancing so freely on
the stage just for the joy of being alive and realized what I’d been missing for years.
I love you, too.”

Her chin quivered again, then a smile broke across her face. Joyous tears fell this
time. Her fingers dug into him, then she brushed her gaze over his face. Her lips
followed gently, a whisper. A silent promise. She gave Xander the same attention.
“I didn’t know who I was or where I was or what I needed until you came and showed
me the way. I love you both.”

So goddamn perfect, everything about her . . .

Together, he and Xander crushed her naked body against them. His brother quickly shed
his T-shirt, then used his lips to climb wild kisses up her neck, her jaw, over to
her lips. But Javier was doing the same, and they took turns caressing her lips, delving
into her mouth, showing her with their kisses how much they worshipped her.

As Xander stole her succulent mouth away again, he nipped at London’s lobe. “Unbutton
my shirt, little one.”

Her moan sprang free, but she raised her hands to his buttons as arousal began to
undo her, and she touched his skin while she lost herself in Xander’s embrace.

The feel of her fingers on him nearly turned him inside out. He quickly lost patience,
ripping the shirt open. Buttons pinged everywhere, and he didn’t give a shit. All
that mattered was that he peeled the garment off, threw it across the room, then pressed
his skin to hers, his fingers sweeping all the way down her back, from shoulder to
hip, over smooth skin and scars, until he held the sweet handful against him.

“I feel so lucky,” she said finally when Xander let her up for air.

“So do we,” his brother assured.

London blinked, then shook her head. “You’re rich and gorgeous, sophisticated and
charming. Powerful . . . You could have anyone.”

“He has,” Javier ribbed.”

“Shut the hell up,” Xander growled.

“Exactly. So why me?” She sounded so uncertain, and Javier knew only time and love
would change that. And maybe a few other things they had up their sleeve.

Xander grabbed her face in his hands. “Everyone else was recreation. A way to pass
time and kill boredom. They wanted my money or prowess or for me to look good at their
side. They didn’t care about me. Or my brother. I didn’t look at them and finally
understand the concept of home. Of family. I didn’t look at them and know where I
belonged. Only you did that,
belleza
.”

Xander stole her lips again and sealed his bond with her. Reverent and urgent, until
she pulled away panting, eyes glazed. Javier held in a grin, figuring that he’d better
get his words out before they just didn’t care about talking anymore.

“And you thawed me, love.” He caressed her jaw, nudging her gaze back to him. “Our
father was a cold bastard who embraced only duty and money, and he drilled that philosophy
into me ruthlessly. I’d always believed that if I followed those, I’d have what I
needed. Francesca was a mistake, and I knew it immediately. But it was my duty to
stay married. I’d made a vow. After she was dead, I saw that she had everything money
could buy, but not the one thing she truly craved. Fran was a needy creature. She
wanted a love I didn’t know how to give, and once she was dead, I could only think
that my ineptitude might as well have been the rope around her neck.”

“And you drowned in guilt and booze,” she finished softly. “Oh, Javier. You
do
have a big heart. You gave an inexperienced girl a job, trusted me with your secrets,
helped me see what it was to truly live. Give yourself some credit.”

Sweet to the very end. “You opened my eyes, little one. I’ll be grateful to you forever.”

“Before this gets too much sappier, we need to ask you something,” Xander piped in.

London giggled. “Gosh, we are sounding a little greeting cardish. What is it? If it’s
about staying on the job beyond the initial five weeks, yes.”

“It wasn’t, but good to know.” Javier winked, then nerves attacked him as he dug into
his pocket. This was it. He was going to say these words for the second time in his
life, but mean them for the very first. He fished out the little square inside and
withdrew it. “I love you more than mere words can say. Marry me.”

As he opened the box, she gasped. She would be seeing the platinum ring, channel-set
with diamonds and topped with a one-carat stone, that nestled against a thinner band
adorned with a nearly flawless five-carat colorless diamond.

Her eyes widened almost impossibly. “Oh my . . .”

“And me.” Xander pulled the other part of the wedding set from his pocket, a mirror
of his own band, a row of diamonds set in platinum that would curl around the large
center stone. “There’s a stone to represent each of us. But you’re in the middle,
as we’ll always want you to be. So you’ll always feel surrounded and loved.”

Javier expected a lot of reactions, but he hadn’t expected sobbing. London buried
her face in her hands.

He and Xander glanced at one another, both wearing identically lost expressions.

“
Belleza
, if you don’t like the setting—”

“I love it,” she gasped and lowered her hands, looking at them both with tear-drenched
eyes. “I love you. You’re sure you want to marry me after only a week?”

“‘Want’ might be the wrong word, little one.” Javier raised a brow. “‘Insist’ might
be closer.”

“I’d go with ‘demand,’ personally,” Xander kicked in.

Javier nodded. “You know, he’s probably right. I like ‘demand.’”

She laughed and threw her arms around them again. “Then yes. A huge, I’m-the-luckiest-girl-in-the-world
yes.”

Javier tore the rings out of the box and took her hand in his, sliding them down her
finger. Xander took his turn next, easing the final band into place. Three pieces
all entwined perfectly.

When he would have moved in for a kiss, Xander elbowed him in the chest. “Wait. There’s
more.”

“Can’t we cover this ground later?”

“Nope.” Xander sounded like an immovable mountain. “I want to get it all out there
now.”

Sighing, Javier shook his head. Little brother was probably right, but damn, he wanted
to get to the part of the day where they took her to bed and used every part of their
bodies to show her just how important she was to them.

“There’s something else?” Incredulity lilted her voice.

Javier gave up the notion of having sex right now. London needed to know all they
had in mind. “We each wanted to give you something. Since you’ve never been to your
namesake, we wanted to honeymoon there . . . on our way to soak up some sun on the
French coast, then take in the beauty of Tuscany. We’ve all earned some time to just
be together.”

He scrambled up to retrieve the travel documents on the end table by the sofa, then
handed them to her.

She scanned them, her face lowering to a frown. “These tickets are for the first week
of September, guys. That’s in less than two months. There’s no way we can pull off
a wedding that quickly.”

“There is when you’ve got money.” Javier smiled.

“And we need to make this a quick wedding. For one thing, I don’t want to wait until
even tomorrow, but I guess you want to have time to explain us to your mother so we
can meet her.”

“Uh . . . yeah. That’s going to be fun.” Her sarcasm said otherwise. “But she’ll come
around. She just wants me to be happy and loved.”

“We’ll make sure of that,” Xander promised. “But the second reason . . .” He fished
an envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans and pressed it into her hands. “You
can open it here if you want, but this is a fax from the hospital. They did my blood
work last night. I knew I was clean because I was always meticulously careful, but
I wanted you to see it in black-and-white.”

“O-okay.” An adorable frown crossed her face. “That’s good news.”

“It’s
great
news,” Xander corrected. “I’ve missed out on years of family. My brother was always
busy being groomed for success. I squandered all that time being a dumbass.”

“A skirt-chasing dumbass,” she teased him.

“Yeah.” He had the good grace to flush. “But I don’t want to wait anymore. The three
of us will marry and be a family. I want to expand it. And I want to start now.”

London blinked, jaw dropping. “Like, right now?”

Xander nodded. “I wanted you to know that I’m clean so we’d never need any barriers
between us again.”

Happiness lit her blue eyes before a crushing frown showed her misery. “I think it’s
only fair . . . I have to be honest. The doctors say that my blackout spells may never
stop. It’s much better with my meds, but I can’t ever be alone with a child, at least
not a very young one. I’m not sure I’ll ever be fit to be a mother—”