XANDER (The Caine Brothers Book 2) (6 page)

“Shit, Pixie.”

“You’re like a drug. I can’t get enough of you.”

“I’m happy to make you a Xander junkie. But first, lose the pants. I want to see all of you.”

A coy smile played at her lips as she turned her back to him and worked at the button and zipper. She pushed the loosened pants down her legs, bending over at the waist as she did. A lacy white thong framed her perfect round ass, which begged to be touched, grabbed, pinched, and bitten. She looked up at him over her shoulder while she worked the thong down her slender legs. Her lips turned up into a sexy smile before she bit her bottom lip. Jesus, she’d be the death of him. Could she read his thoughts in his expression? His fingers had curled into fists in an effort to keep his hands to himself until she was undressed. He wanted that ass in his hands. Now.

Before she could stand up, he gave in, leaning over to kiss first one cheek, then the other, and because he had an overwhelming desire to consume her, he bit her, too. Not hard, but enough to get his point across.

She squealed and shot straight up. “Ow!”

He chuckled and grabbed her waist, spinning her to face him. “Ditch the panties, Pixie.”

She kicked them away. “Better?”

He extended one of her hands over her head and spun her as if they found themselves on a dance floor, admiring her graceful form from every angle. “Perfect.”

“I’m sure you say that to all the bike bunnies you boink.”

“Boink? Really? Honey, I don’t boink.”

“Whatever. Screw, bang, shag, hump, fuck.”

“Are you trying to find out how much I fuck around?”

A self-conscious shadow flit across her eyes before she glanced away and shrugged. It was adorable and the fact that he found it adorable seemed way more intimate than he generally cared to think about women. Not that he shared his bed very often. The answer to her question was ‘not as often as you’d think given my image.’ It took too much energy and he wasn’t comfortable with a revolving door of women the way Dude was. The way his brother Damian was.

“I’m not a manwhore, if that’s what you’re asking.” He tucked hair behind her ear, caressing the shell of it, continuing to trace his fingers down her neck and over her shoulder. “But I do really want to fuck you now.”

“Oh?” She looked surprised, but the sparkle in her eyes made it clear she was teasing him.

“I can’t think of any other reason I’d bring you to my room and strip you bare.”

His cock swelled in his pants as he took another long look at her. Slender and feminine, she was everything he craved in a woman.

She crossed one arm under her breasts and with the other hand she tapped her cheek, twisting her lips into a thoughtful expression. “You know,” she said. “I think I’ve changed my mind. This just doesn’t work for me.”

Lost in luxurious contemplation of her body and what he wanted to do to her, he’d only halfway paid attention to her, but when the words finally sunk in, he froze. What the hell? Was she really standing naked in his hotel room, rejecting him? He didn’t even know how to respond. He’d never found himself in that position.

His eyes shot back to hers. “I…”

She broke her pose and snort-laughed. “Oh man, you should see your face.”

“Hmph,” he grunted.

She laughed even harder. “Like I stole all your Christmas presents.”

He raised an amused brow at her.

More laughter, leaning her hands on her knees, gasping for air. “Or told you your puppy just died.” Some wheezing. “So good…”

It shouldn’t, but her teasing turned him on. Her laughter—an honest, real expression of her joy—made him hard. He didn’t like the needy, desperate bike bunnies she’d referred to. He liked women with a lusty love of life, unafraid to be themselves. They were far too rare, in his experience.

His cock strained against his pants, so he unbuttoned and unzipped and let it out. “Are you about done?” he asked.

She glanced up at him, her face pink and rosy from the laughter. When she saw his cock, though, her eyes went wide and she stopped laughing. She stared at it like she couldn’t decide whether to be wary of it or explore it. When she licked her lips and swallowed hard he about came right there watching her tongue slide over her ruby lips.

She glanced up at him with a devilish look in her eyes, then dropped to her knees and scooted the couple of feet to bring herself closer to him. Wrapping one hand around his cock, she used the other to drop his pants all the way to the floor. He happily kicked them away and opened his stance for her.

She gripped him tight at the base and when she opened her mouth and her pretty pink tongue slipped out to lick the tip of him his hips jerked of their own accord. He resisted the urge to grab her head and force himself down her throat, but it wasn’t easy. Her tongue swirling around his cock was warm but it left a cool, wet wake behind that put him somewhere between a shiver and a groan.

She took her time licking, building the anticipation, making him wait for her to take him all the way into her mouth. It took a lot of willpower not to demand what he wanted. Not to force it. He wasn’t that kind of man. He was all about control, not force. And never begging. Ever. He’d suffer the bluest balls in the history of blue balls before he begged. But sweet holy gods, she made him consider it. The words were right there waiting to be let loose and if she kept at it she might just wring them out of him.

Lost in the fight to maintain at least a shred of dignity, while at the same time rationalizing the urge to mouth fuck her, she surprised him when she finally took as much of him as she could into the heat of her mouth, while stroking the rest of his length.

A long, low groan escaped his lips as he let his hips thrust, and he sank into the sensation of her sucking his dick. His eyes closed and his focus centered on her lips, her tongue, her teeth, the heat, the suction. It was far from his first blow job, but it was the first time he’d felt worshipped. Which made him do a mental eye roll.

When he felt the first hint of orgasm in his balls, he pulled out of her mouth. He wanted to come inside her, but not inside her mouth.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing. Get on the bed.”

She raised a brow. “Would it hurt to say please?”

He held her gaze. God he loved her sassiness. “Maybe.”

She crossed her arms under her breasts—a move that made them sit up and beg to be worshipped—and gave him a stubborn smirk. He struggled to keep his eyes on hers and not drop them to her tits, but thinking about her tits made his cock jerk.

She glanced down at it, then back up. “You’re probably going to want to do something about that. Before it hurts.”

“It already does, but don’t pretend you’re not hot, wet, and throbbing to have it inside you.”

She bit her bottom lip, but then forced a nonchalant shrug. “I’m fine.”

He took a step toward her. “I don’t think so.” Another step. The tip of his cock bumped her belly. “I think you’ve got an itch only I can scratch.” She swallowed hard when her eyes met his. “I think you’re sassy and stubborn—which is fucking hot by the way—so I’m going to help you out.”

He wrapped his hands around her waist, lifted her and placed her beautiful ass on the bed. Once there, she leaned back on her hands and looked up at him. “I’m on the bed. Now what?”

“Don’t move,” growled. He went to his backpack and rummaged until he found the one condom he’d brought. He hadn’t expected to need it; he just always kept one with him. Never hurt to be prepared for anything.

When he returned to the bed, she hadn’t moved other than to cross her legs. Her foot bounced while she waited, saucy little thing.

Using his teeth, he tore the foil packet. Her attention followed his every movement as if she wanted to memorize him; as if she couldn’t get enough. He sympathized.

He rolled the condom down the length of his cock, then reached for her knee and uncrossed her legs, opening her up to him. He imagined that the look on his face on getting his first glimpse of her warm, wetness must be similar to what he saw on her face when she first saw his cock. It was like nearing home after a long, arduous journey.

When she lay back, dropped her knees open farther, and reached for him, it was all the invitation he needed.

He climbed onto the bed and settled between her legs, the tip of his cock resting at her opening without actually entering. Now it was his turn to torture her; make her beg, or at least want to.

She bucked her hips trying to draw him in, but only managing to get the end of him wet. “Tease,” she said, but she said it with a smile before consuming him in another kiss.

Need built like helium filling a balloon, and as much as he still wanted to explore her breasts and take a slow, languid tour of her entire body before plunging into her, he couldn’t control the urge to thrust inside and lose himself in her heat.

From her needy whimpering and writhing beneath him, he figured she agreed, so he slid inside, satisfied by her long sigh as he filled her.

“Good?”

“God, yes.”

Somewhere inside it made him—Proud? Pleased?—to make her happy. He shoved that sentiment aside, not wanting to understand it.

While he set a slow, building pace, he kissed her face, her neck, her breasts. He sucked her nipples into his mouth first one then the other, rolling them between his teeth and tongue for just enough sting to bring her more pleasure. He felt the resulting clench of her muscles around his cock. God, that felt so good. At one point, though, sensation overtook him—them—and he drowned in the waves of bliss building higher and hotter.

She made incoherent sounds as her orgasm built, and when it hit she threw her head back and grabbed fists full of bedding. She thrust her hips up into his pelvis and a prolonged “Yes,” hissed from her lips.

Her body squeezing his cock tight was enough to wring an orgasm from him, starting somewhere at the base of his spine and tearing through his balls and out the length of his cock until he wasn’t sure where his climax ended and hers began.

It was easily the most intense, breathtaking experience he’d ever had with another human being.

Shocking, actually, to the point of apprehension. He’d had sex before, and this wasn’t just sex.

When she came down from the heights of her orgasm, she looked up at him with wonder in her eyes. “Whoa.”

What the fuck just happened?

Gracie was saved from making ridiculous exclamations of love—or promises of forever—to a man she’d only met yesterday by her phone ringing.

Yeah, the sex was phenomenal, the best she’d ever had hands down, but that hadn’t been the part that freaked her out. It was the electric connection. The feeling that she couldn’t—and didn’t want to—live without him.

She scrambled off the bed, disentangling her naked body from his, leaving her feeling just a little bit empty once they were separate.

“You don’t have to answer that,” he said.

She hurried to the foot of the bed and clambered to find her pants, then struggled to free her phone from the pocket.

The screen showed Lily calling.

“I have to. I was on my way to meet someone when you hijacked me.”

“I didn’t hijack you. You came willingly.”

God, had she ever
.

She scooped her clothes from the floor and hurried to the bathroom, answering the phone as she went.

She barely had the phone to her ear before Lily’s voice accosted her. “Where are you?”

“Lily, I’m sorry. I got sidetracked.”

Talk about the understatement of the century.

“Are you okay? You’ve been gone so long. I got worried.”

“I’m fine. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

She hung up. She didn’t want any more conversation, anyway. She just wanted to get away from Xander as soon as possible. Maybe with distance between them her common sense would return. Jeez. She was such a fucking idiot.

Xander knocked on the door. “Everything okay in there?”

His deep voice and solicitous concern made her work even faster. She yanked her panties on, then wrestled into her bra, pants, and shirt as fast as humanly possible. When she opened the bathroom door, she forced a fake smile onto her face as she finger-combed her hair.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine. Gotta go.”

She shoved past his still gloriously naked body, trying hard not to look at it again for fear it would drag her back into another stupid mistake.

Throwing open the door, she all but ran out into the hall and headed for the elevator.

“Hey.”

She looked back over her shoulder to find buck naked Xander standing in the middle of the hall.

“I still don’t know your name,” he said.

Thank God for small favors.

She pushed the down button on the elevator, glancing back down the hall as she did. Xander stalked toward her, in all his muscled, tatted, hairy glory. Her mouth actually watered.

I’m so fucked. Hurry, hurry, hurry, damn elevator.

It dinged and the door slid open. Two men—a giant blond Viking and a Hispanic dude—left the elevator and she climbed in.

As the door closed, she heard the Hispanic guy say, “Hey, that’s Killer’s mystery lady…”