Snare (Falling Stars #3) (31 page)

Xavier

I lasted in California long enough to take care of some business details, work through the twins upcoming tutoring schedule, check on their progress, and spend an evening with Maria, Gil, and the girls.

The girls are doing really well for things being so crazy. Maria being sick, me on tour, and having to split their time between so many different households, I've never been more thankful to Em for finding a flexible tutor and setting Lyra and Cass up with Cyber School.

Maria's finally got color back in her face and was way too fucking thrilled that Cass got her damn period. She also enjoyed it when the girls told her about the conversation Sid had with them. Now, Maria's pushing harder to meet her and I wasn't allowed to leave until the promise was made.

I also had a talk with my oldest sister. I'd had a pretty good idea what crawled up Kami's ass, but it still didn't mean she got to be a bitch. Turns out, I was partly correct. Kami and Maria were always close, Kami having babysat her when she was younger. So, hearing about Sid from Mom and Em put her in defensive mode. She also isn't so sure Sid is not using me or Mom for her business. Kami's still not completely sold, but she'll eventually come around. Hopefully, the bitch act won't be an ongoing issue.

After my second flight in two and half days, I'm ready to get my hands on the woman invading my every thought.

I knock on the door.

"Do you beat your own wood that hard?" she yells from inside the apartment.

Leaning down, I put my eye in front of the peephole.

"Well, that's not creepy or anything," she bitches behind the door. "I'm not opening the door if I can't see who it is," she warns.

"You know what happened the last time you wouldn't let me in," I return the warning.

When nothing happens, not even a sound from her, I knock again.

"Sid?"

"Hold your tits," she shouts, opening the door.

Reaching out, I grab her boobs.

Her eyes drop to my hands.

"What are you doing?" She looks up at me.

"Follow instructions." I grin.

She raises a brow.

"You said to hold my tits," I explain.

She rolls her eyes and slaps my hands away.

"They aren't yours," she clips.

Stepping back, she motions for me to enter.

"I licked them," I remind her.

"You're mental, you know that, right?"

Smiling, I turn around just in time to see a tall, blond young male outside her door.

"Hey, Sid," he greets her chest, but then turns his gaze to me.

I lift one brow and meet his eyes, not releasing them. The look on his face tells me he gets my silent warning.

"Zane," she responds, giving a weak wave and closing the door.

"An admirer?" It sounds jealous to my own ears.

"Calm down," she steps by, patting my back, "his clit locator is disabled."

"His what?" I chuckle.

She opens her mouth, but I put a hand up.

"You know what? I don't want to hear about him and your clit."

"And my fingers," she adds over her shoulder, walking into her small kitchen.

Leaning into her fridge, she takes out two beers, removes the caps, and hands one to me.

I take the offered drink, then I take hers.

"Hey," she shouts.

Setting both beers down, I finally get my hands on her.

I grab both sides of her head and take her mouth.

Without hesitation, she opens up. Her hands come to my waist, fisting my shirt.

I cup her chin in my palm, pull back just a bit, and lick her mouth.

"Mine," I whisper.

Her eyes widen.

Turning her head, I run my tongue up her neck.

"Mine," I repeat.

I slide my hands down her body, purposely avoiding all the places she wants me to touch most.

When I reach the hem of her t-shirt, I yank it over her head and drop it to the floor. I'm trying to go slow, make a point, but I'm a greedy fucker. Running my palms over her hips, I flex my fingers into her soft flesh.

Fuck, she feels so good in my hands.

Easing my hold on her, I move one hand to her ass and the other to her shoulder, pulling her bra strap down her arm until the cup releases her.

Palming her bare breast, I bend at my knees and run the flat of my tongue over her hard nipple.

She moans, digging her fingers into my hair.

"Mine," I growl.

Sid's hips jerk forward in invitation.

My dick throbs against the confines of my jeans, screaming for me to fuck her.

Removing the other strap, I repeat everything on her other nipple before drawing my tongue down her stomach. At her belly button, I swirl.

"Mine." The possession in my voice feeds the raw animalistic side I'm struggling to control.

I curl my fingers into her leggings and underwear, pulling them down. And when she lifts a foot to step out of them, I catch the back of her leg, lift, stretch my tongue out as far as possible, and lick from the bottom of her slit to the top.

"Holy fuck," she gasps, scratching my scalp.

"Mine," I snarl before slipping past her lips.

The taste of her clit explodes across my tongue. It's like fucking heroin.

Placing her leg on my shoulder, I grab her round ass and pull her harder against my mouth.

"Yes, fuck yes," she moans, circling her hips. "Go for the gold," she orders, her voice strained.

Moving lower, I shove my tongue deep inside her. I don't say it out loud, but I think it.
Mine.

An hour later, I lie on my back, naked, in the middle of her living room floor. Sid's head rests on my bicep, her arm over my stomach and leg over my thigh.

"So, we're clear now, right?" I run my fingers through her hair.

"Clear?" she asks, sounding tired, worn out.

"It's mine. Or do I need to prove it again?" I tense like I'm going to get up.

Her hand presses to my chest.

"Stop," she pleads, "your point has been made."

"So, you concede?" I press.

"For now," she says, annoyed. "But only because I have to meet everyone in less than an hour for dinner."

"Everyone?"

Rolling to my side, I wrap my body around her.

Now, she can't go anywhere.

"Plth, plth," she makes spitting sounds, "watch it with the beard, Sasquatch."

She shoves at my chest and swipes at my beard.

Giving her some space, she exaggerates, gasping for air.

"You done yet?" I ask, pursing my lips.

"Almost." She does a few more fake gasps and then finally answers me. "Liza's here, so we are meeting at my parents' for dinner. Jack wanted to take everyone out, but Mom wouldn't hear of it. She's determined to make a meatloaf big enough to feed the world."

"I like meatloaf," I hint.

She rolls away and grabs her shirt, covering all the good stuff before she stands.

I sit up, not bothering with my clothes yet.

"I'll bring you a doggy bag," she offers, bending down to get her underwear.

While she's in position, I move to my knees, grab her hips, and lick her ass cheek.

"What the hell?" She half laughs, half screams.

Spinning around, she looks down at my kneeling form.

"Mine," I answer with a shrug.

"You're ridiculous," she says, trying to sound irritated.

The twitch of her mouth gives her away.

"Do I need to call your mom to get an invite to dinner?"

"For the love of God, don't
you
call my mother, ever," she rushes out.

"I think I should be insulted," I state, grabbing my boxers and sliding them on.

"No," she shakes her head, "I'm pretty sure my mom would use you as her personal one-nine-hundred sex hotline if she could," she discloses.

I open my mouth, preparing to ask her what the fuck she's talking about, but the look on her face makes me shut the fuck up.

"It's bad enough I've had to hear her talk about when she'll meet you, mention how handsome you sound," Sid's voice get more and more nasally as she goes on. "His voice is amazing. Is he the singer? If not, he should be…" Shaking her head, she makes a gagging noise. "And then, my dad has the kahunas to brag about how it's working out well for him."

I can't help it. I burst into laughter.

"It's not funny," she whines. "It's gross."

Holding my stomach, I lean against the back of her couch and laugh harder.

"I'm scarred and you're laughing," she grumbles, disappearing down her hallway into her bathroom.

"Come on." I try to stop laughing and follow her. "I'm sorry."

I'm really not.

I reach for the bathroom doorknob and hear it click.

"Come on," I laugh out, knocking on the door.

"Bite me, Sasquatch," she insults as I hear the shower turn on.

"For your insubordination, I'm washing away all the cunnilingus claiming," she threatens.

Grinning, I press closer to the door.

"Go ahead," I shout, "challenge cunnilingus claiming part two accepted."

Chapter Twenty-Six
Sidra

When I emerge from the shower, Xavier stands leaning against the wall across from the door. The gleam in his eye makes me shiver, wanting him to start round two, but my mother would kill me.

Throwing my arm out, I say, "Jack and Liza will be here soon."

"They can be my witnesses," he says, pushing off the wall.

"You need to get ready for dinner," I rush out. "Unless you plan on smelling like my pussy when you meet my dad," I tack on, batting my eyelashes.

He pauses.

"Is that my invitation?"

"It's as good as you're going to get, so start your grooming progress."

I step out of the doorway and motion for him to enter.

Xavier steps up to the bathroom, but before entering, he tips my chin up with his fingers and licks my mouth.

"I'll start with that, for now," he says, his words a promise.

He walks inside, but doesn't shut the door. He just drops his pants, turns on the water, and steps into the shower.

And fuck yes, I watched the whole thing. His ass is fantastic.

Yanking the denim up my legs, I take a breath, square my shoulders, and grab the fly of my jeans with both hands. Sucking my stomach in, I pull the sides together and button before I pass out. Pinching the slider, I take another breath, suck in, and zip the pants.

That was easier than I expected.

I look in my mirror and turn sideways. The black skinny jeans are tight, but not as much as I expected. Grabbing my black and white striped shirt from the bed, I slip it over my head and pull my damp hair out of the collar.

"Not terrible," I mumble to my reflection. A knock sounds at the door and I glance to my alarm clock.

They're early.

In bare feet, I pad down the hall.

Unlatching the locks, I start to open the door.

"You guys are super…"

Panic and fear silence me.

"You think this is going to make up for the damage you've caused?" Paul spits the venomous words, holding up what I assume are papers from my lawyer. "Well, it's not," he sneers, throwing the papers in my face.

"You aren't supposed to be here," I state as calmly as I can.

"Fuck you, Sid! I know Sam came here before she left me." He moves closer, trying to use his body to intimidate me. "You two were working together against me, weren't you? You fucking whores teaming up to ruin me!"

"You need to go," I growl, my anger replacing the fear and panic.

"I'm going to lose everything and you think two hundred and fifty thousand can fix that?" He snorts. "I didn't fuck your fat ass to lose everything!"

He grabs my arm, hard, and I shove him off, my rage surfacing.

"Don't touch me again," I shout, grabbing his arms and bringing my knee to his crotch.

"You bitch," he coughs out, bent over, holding his pathetic little dick.

"All the time I wasted thinking about you," I sneer, stepping closer and shoving his shoulders with both my hands.

Tears spill from my eyes, a mixture of my anger, frustration, and disappointment.

He stumbles backward into the hallway.

Launching myself forward, I take his head in my hands and bring my knee to his face.

"Fuck," he garbles, bringing one hand to his mouth.

"If you come near me," I slap the side of his head, "if you talk to me," I hit him again, "if you even think of me," I lift my hand to strike, but it's caught by Paul.

"I suggest you take your hands off her," Xavier snarls, the heat of his body penetrating my back.

Paul's eyes widen, but his hand tenses as his eyes drop to mine.

"Always a whore," he smirks, his face dropping into a wince.

Xavier has Paul's wrist, causing him to drop my hand.

"I warned you," he growls, moving me behind him with his free arm.

Paul is slammed into the wall, Xavier holding him by his throat.

"Oh my God," Liza shouts, running toward me.

She wraps her arm around me, pulling me away from the fight.

Jackson doesn't ask one question, doesn't blink, doesn't hesitate—he becomes Xavier's sentinel, standing next to him.

"I've been looking forward to meeting you, Paul," Xavier sneers.

"I'll," Paul chokes, "press…charges," he gargles.

"Shit." My eyes move at Zane's exclamation.

His eyes, full of concern, find me in Liza's arms.

"You okay?" he asks, taking a step toward me.

I nod.

"Help," Paul pleas on a garble.

Xavier and Jackson turn hard eyes on my neighbor.

Zane puts his arms up and shakes his head.

"I hate that asshole. I didn't see a damn thing," Zane says, turning and going back into his apartment.

"Come on," Liza whispers, trying to pull me in my apartment.

I resist.

"Let gaaaa…"

Xavier tightens his hand.

"I think you should shut up and be thankful I haven't beaten the shit out of you yet," he threatens.

Paul's face grows redder and redder, his hands clawing at the inked one closing off his airway.

The sick side of me hopes Xavier kills him.

"I hate the asshole, too," Jackson says, "but he's not worth going to prison."

Xavier's shoulders rise and fall in a heavy breath before he relaxes his hand and lets Paul go.

Paul gasps, the red in his face instantly easing.

Xavier leans into his face, and growls, "Come near her again and I'll take a prison sentence."

He takes two steps backward, turns to me, and examines me from head to toe.

Spinning back around, Xavier lands a heavy closed fist to Paul's jaw.

Liza and I gasp, grabbing onto each other.

The bastard barista crumples to the floor.

"Yeah, I want to report harassment and an altercation," Jackson speaks into his phone.

Xavier turns back to me, shaking his hand out.

Liza releases me and moves next to Jackson, who stands over Paul, talking to who I assume are the police.

Chest still rising and falling, Xavier advances on me. His hands wrap around my neck and slide into the hair behind my ears.

Tilting my face up to his, he rubs his thumbs along my jaw.

"Did he hurt you?" he asks, his voice still rough, angry. His nostrils flare.

Why is that so damn hot?

"No," I shake my head.

Paul groans, holding his face.

"Shut up," Jackson barks. "You're lucky you aren't dead right now."

The police arrive twenty minutes later and take statements from all of us. Xavier stiffens when I tell them what Paul said and how he grabbed me. Jack snorts when I tell them about attacking him. Xavier admits to subduing him against the wall and punching him. Then, they talk to Zane, who doesn't keep his word.

Instead of saying he didn't see anything, he tells them how he heard Paul attacking me and the two men stepped in to protect me.

Afterward, they cuff Paul for harassment and violation of his restraining order.

When Paul complains about Xavier, they start reading him his rights. The look he shoots me makes me shudder.

I was such a fool. How could I fall for his bullshit for so long?

Xavier's arms come around me from behind. He guides me into my apartment and to the bedroom.

Releasing me, he comes around to stand in front of me. He grabs the hem of my shirt and drags it up my body.

"What are you doing?" I cross my arms on my chest to hold the shirt down.

"You have blood on your shirt, tiger." He palms my face, sweeping his thumb over my cheek.

"Oh," I say, dropping my arms and allowing him to strip it off.

He throws the shirt across the room and when it lands on the floor, I break, like the shirt was the only thing holding back my emotions.

My body jerks and a cry escapes my throat. Reflexively covering my mouth with my hand, I wrap my other arm around my bare stomach.

Xavier pulls both my hands from my body and tugs me against him.

His arms wrap around me, one hand going to my head and the other to the middle of my back.

Sobs wrack my body and tears pour from my eyes, catching at the corner of my mouth. I wrap my arms around his waist and fist his t-shirt, using his strength to hold myself up.

Laying his cheek to the top of my head, he lightly rocks me.

"I've got you," he whispers.

I grip his shirt so hard, my knuckles ache.

"I've got you, tiger."

My arms tighten around his body and I bury my face in his chest.

We show up at Mom and Dad's almost an hour late.

Mom rushes toward me, smothering me in one of her hugs. Dad stands on the porch. The closer we get to him, the more I can see the worry lining his face.

"It's okay," I assure him.

In a rare touchy-feely moment, my father steals me away from my mother and pulls me into his arms. Mom steps away, excusing herself back into the house.

"I don't know what I would've done if he…" he doesn't finish, emotion choking him.

Unable to handle my daddy feeling so helpless and emotional, I say, "Don't worry, I kicked his ass."

Dad chuckles, releasing me.

"Hell yeah, she did," Jackson praises. "I totally thought Xavier had done the damage."

"That's my little badass." Dad lightly punches my arm.

His eyes move to Xavier, appraising him for a moment. You can practically see the moment he makes a decision about this large, tattooed, hairy beast of a man.

"Mr. Campbell," Xavier speaks first, offering my father his hand.

"Call me Marc," Dad responds, taking the hand and shaking. "It seems I have a lot to thank you for and I'm only just meeting you."

"Don't do it," I warn, closing my eyes in a silent prayer.

"I'm sorry?" Xavier says, confused.

"Well, not only has my sex life suddenly spiked in activity, but you also were there for my little girl," Dad explains.

"And, you did it," I groan. "I'm telling Mom," I threaten. "I hope she holds out until your balls mummify," I grumble, stalking into the house.

"Uncle Marc," Liza laughs, following me inside.

"I wondered where Sid got her personality," Jackson announces, following my father and Xavier into the house.

"I can't take all the credit," my dad says. "Give her mother a drink and a few moments to get comfortable."

"Are you blaming our daughter on me again?" Mom bursts from the kitchen, a baking pan in her mitt-covered hands.

"Why am I something to be blamed for?" I ask. "You should be fighting over being responsible for my amazingness."

"And this is why we stopped at one," my dad deadpans.

I gasp and narrow my eyes.

"Mom, Dad was telling us about your increased sexual activity," I tattle, keeping my eyes on him.

"What?" she screeches, setting the pan on the table a bit too hard.

Crossing my arms on my chest, I grin wide at my father.

He shrugs and points to Xavier.

"I'll just have him talk to her for a while and reap the benefits later."

"Do you know how gross that is?" I put my hands out in front of me.

He shrugs again.

Lucas, Sean, and Kel take this moment to come down from the second floor of the house.

"Is dinner—" Kel covers Lucas' mouth.

Giving up on my dad, I turn to my red-faced mom.

"You can't fantasize about the guy I'm having sex with," I scold. "It's just gross."

Xavier snorts.

Jackson and the boys laugh.

Liza giggles.