Breathe for Me(39)

But she was so at ease with the deal she was happy to just pack up and go away for who knew how long. She didn’t miss him. Damn it. And she didn’t seem at all troubled by her imminent departure from the city. Sure, it was another month away, but Xander felt it like the bomb was ticking and about to detonate. And the target about to be blown to bits?

His heart.

Exactly what he didn’t want. He’d never wanted it. Hell, he had no clue about relationships—had never seen a decent example in all his life. He’d been all about play.

And Chelsea had liked make-believe. Except now Xander wanted it all to be real.

Yeah. That was the problem.

He knew what he had to do. When she got back, whenever that might be, he was ending it. No more games, no more getting off on the wicked laugh she let out too rarely. No more wishing she’d fully set free her spark of playfulness. Now more wishing she’d open up and talk to him, trust him the way she had that night.

Because he hadn’t said the right thing. He’d only upset her. He wasn’t the guy to help her find that freedom again. He’d tried but he’d failed. He had to walk away because she had him wishing for things he’d always believed he never wanted. Things that were beyond his limited emotional ability.

The good deeds he did merely masked the anger that he felt deep inside. The rage he felt for his father. And the fear that it was all inside him too. That darkness. That ability to brutally hurt. He wanted no risk of that. Chelsea of all people didn’t need to be hurt again. He had to walk away.

But he was f*cking angry about it. Furious with himself for letting things get this far. He was a damned fool, falling for blue eyes and a swimsuit.

He slammed his glass down on the table. “I’m calling it a night.”

“Good.” Logan answered with an evil tone and took an easy swig of his beer. “Go home and be boring there.”

Xander flipped him the bird and left.

As soon as he opened his apartment door his senses went on high alert. His muscles tensed but he kept his hands loose, bending his knees slightly—ready to either attack or defend. His eyes narrowed, he listened. Then he caught the scent. A little basil.

Chelsea.

“You think you’re so great with security?”

The sound of her voice thumped him in the chest—his heart stopped. Then started again—off beat and skittering.

“A little catburgler like me can sneak in so easily.” She appeared at the end of the hall.

What the f*ck was she wearing?

Top to toe she was clad in black. Skin tight, sexier than hell black, with the six-inch heeled, dominatrix boots to finish it off. The only part of her skin visible was her jaw—her pointed chin, her pretty, kissable lips. Right now they were slicked red. Absolute vixen.

“How did you get in?” It hurt to breathe, hurt to move given how hard he was. So he just stayed statue still.

Hands on her hips, she saucily shrugged a shoulder. “I used some contacts.”

Did she now? Xander’s mind whirred.

Logan. He was the only one who could have let her in. Hunter was away. No way in hell would any of the building team let her in. They were too scared of how he’d react. So all the while Logan had been goading him at the bar, he’d known this creature was lying in wait for him?

Damn jerk cousin. And for a moment, mad jealousy rioted through him—that Logan had seen her looking like this? The guy was going down. But Xander had other things to tend to first.

“Catburgler, huh?” He cleared the rock from his throat. “What is it you’re planning on stealing?”

She slowly walked towards him, her spiky heels punctuating her carefully spoken words. “Something very, very precious.”

Hell, he was in trouble. He waited, refusing to risk moving, as she strolled right up to him.

“Cats love to play with their prey…” she said softly. “We love to torment them. We like to let them think they’ve escaped…”

“But they haven’t.”

“No.” She ran a fingernail down his chest. He felt its edge through his shirt. “They can never get away.”

The only sign of nerves was in the slight wobble of her fingers.

“What else you cats like?” he asked, hoarse. Barely containing the urge to grab her. But he was determined to let her lead—she was playing. He ached for her to follow all the way through.

“We like to lick.”

Yeah, he was screwed. His control slipped with every brazen word she uttered. But he summoned enough strength mutter a reply. “Oh you do?”

“Every… last… drop.” That fingernail tapped sharply—staccato to her smooth purred words.

His innards burned, muscles seized—wanting to burst free from the confines of his skin. “And then?”

“We devour.”

He closed his eyes, refusing to come on the spot. Refusing to grab and take in a ferocious frenzy.

“Chelsea.” He all but begged for mercy. “I can’t be…” he huffed out a breath and tried again. “It’s been too long since I saw you. I’m like… a bullet here.”

He wanted her. Wanted, wanted, wanted. Her beneath him. Savage and raw and rough. He wanted to ram into her so hard, to have her all and his. He wanted it so much and so instantly, he didn’t think it could be any good for her.

“You want me to lose control?” His voice cracked and he shook his head. “You’d better tie me up.” He warned. “I’ve missed you too much to be gentle.”

Her eyes were on fire. He didn’t miss the way her hips did a little rotate—a small circle, the heat inside was making her dance already.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “You won’t hurt me.”

But he couldn’t help noticing she backed up a pace.

“I might,” he said. Honest.

Shaking her head she laughed. “I’m strong. So strong. And so are you,” she murmured, taking another step back. “Besides…” Her eyes glittered. “You’d have to catch me first.”

He froze for one moment, stunned as she laughed—really laughed right at him. And then she ran.

A heartbeat later he was running too—thundering quickly around the apartment. Hunting her.

She was playing with him. Really playing. Heart thumping, he wanted to roar with satisfaction. But adrenalin had him, and basic instinct. He wanted to win. He caught sight of her darting into the kitchen.

Cat and mouse? Right now he didn’t know who was who.

He got into the kitchen a split second after she’d gone out the other door to the dining room. He listened, hearing her heels tap unevenly on the wood as she skipped as quickly as she could given her weaker leg. The corridor.

He retraced his steps, got to the door just as she was opening it. He reached above her and slammed it shut but she ducked out from under his arm.

Sneaky and surprisingly fast.

“Run all you like,” he called out to her, his heat growing. “You’re not getting away.”

Never again.

He heard her laughter coming from his room. Clearly she’d gotten acquainted with his apartment in the hour or so she’d had it to herself. He grinned at the sound of her amusement, the sheer delight. Yeah, the chase turned him on more. Her laughter tormented him. All he could see was her. A slim thing in black, a few paces in front towards the lounge, half-running ridiculously fast in those shoes.

And it was time to put an end to it. He closed doors as he went, aiming to narrow down her options. Then he got her cornered in the lounge.

For a moment they both stopped still. Her chin was high, her eyes alight with amusement and excitement. It only took an extra burst of speed, there really wasn’t anywhere for her to go. He swooped, taking her to the floor, grunting in raw satisfaction.

“Oh,” she sighed. “You got me.”

But before he could do anything, she twisted, flipping up onto her knees and pushing him to his knees at the same time. His heart seized with how quickly she undid his zipper. With the rough way she yanked his jeans open, and freed him from his boxers. She laughed—that sexy-as-f*ck throaty laugh as she bent. A split-second later her reddened lips sucked him in.

He couldn’t help it. He thrust, too hard. And nearly died when she leaned forward for more. “Chelsea…” His voice gave out. “This is…”

Her jaw dropped and she sucked harder. Her hands worked in time cupping his balls, gripping the root of his cock tight and squeezing while her tongue circled over his tip. He trembled, pre-cum spurting.

No.

He pulled out, a loud smack sounding as he left her suction. Her growl of disappointment was fierce. Her hands tightened almost painfully on him. He grasped her wrists and dragged her arms wide before releasing them. He didn’t give a damn about any kind of control anymore.

“Hands and knees, puss.” He demanded, shoving down between her shoulder blades, pushing her down to all fours, pushing harder still so her ass was high in the air. He knelt behind her.