BargainWiththeBeast (12 page)

Someone his father would have been ashamed of.

“I’m so sorry,” he rasped, unsure if he apologized to her or
the man who had taught him the meaning of manhood and integrity.

She tightened her embrace. The wild curls he adored brushed
his chin and cheek as she tipped her head back to search his face. “Prove it,”
she whispered.

Xavier released her. Inhaled. And lifted his arms behind his
head. In seconds, he freed his hair from the rubber band. He didn’t miss the
slight widening of her eyes or the wonder that entered their chocolate-brown
depths as the heavy strands fell forward to frame his face.

Her delight scoured away the last of his doubt and
trepidation. Damn if he didn’t want to preen under her blatant admiration.

She rose on tiptoe and pressed soft, full lips to his. He
captured her mouth and slanted his head to bury his tongue deeper. Her
sweetness sucked him under and like a drug addict after his first hit, he would
always chase this woman for more of her special, addictive taste.

He tore his mouth away and slicked his tongue across his
bottom lip, savoring her flavor. A groan rumbled from his throat. How could he
want
this much?

“Turn around, baby,” he ordered, gripping her waist. Without
the slightest hesitation, she complied and allowed him to guide her to one of
the towering trees filling the grove. After flattening her hands on the thick
trunk, he covered her hands with his and lowered his head to nuzzle the curve
of her ear.

“So beautiful,” he said and nipped the earlobe. “So strong.”
A kiss to the skin behind her ear. “So generous.”

“Xavier.” She shivered.

“Shhh… I have you.” Her jacket didn’t prove a barrier as he
slid his hands up her arms, down the sides of her body and under her shirt. His
cock jerked in his pants as he cradled her full breasts. She shuddered in his
arms, a sharp cry breaking free as he pinched the stiff nipples.

Her hips bucked and he ground his dick into the sweet curves
of her jeans-covered ass. Shit, he needed inside her. Bad.

He swept a hand down her stomach. The firm muscles
contracted under his touch and her gasp echoed in the quiet glade. In seconds,
he’d loosened the button, lowered the zipper and found heaven.

“Oh fuck,” he growled. “You’re so wet, baby.” He dragged two
fingers through the smooth folds until he encountered the engorged bundle of
nerves crowning the top of her sex. “I’ll never get tired of feeling you cream
for me.”

Placing an open-mouthed kiss to the underside of her jaw, he
razed her skin with his teeth as he circled her clit with damp fingers. Over
and over, he teased and stroked the swollen button, drawing more erotic cries
from her throat. He released his hold on her breast, shoved her jeans and
panties down her hips and thrust two fingers in her rippling pussy.

“Oh God, please,” she pleaded, her back arching. She curled
her fingers against the bark of the tree.

“Dammit, Gwendolyn,” he whispered, “you’re so tight, so
hot.” The strong walls of her sex clamped down on his fingers and milked them
as if they were his cock. His breath labored in his chest and, as he withdrew
and drove back inside the snug channel, his cock throbbed, his balls drew tight
and the base of his spine tingled with impending release.

A broken sob escaped her lips and she quaked in his embrace.
Every grind of her hips as she rode his fingers and each “please” she whispered
were like gifts. No woman had ever responded to his touch like Gwendolyn did.
Even before the accident had ripped his face open. Not even Evelyn had
unraveled with such uninhibited pleasure as this woman pleading for him to make
her come. Her abandon was every bit as sexy as her mouth on his cock. Maybe
more.

“I have you, baby.” He pressed another kiss to her jaw and
neck. “Come for me. Hard. Don’t hold anything back,” he demanded and plied her
clit with firm passes of his thumb. Her pussy received short, steady thrusts
and her hips quickened, following the rhythm he set. Her constant litany of
cries incited his pace and lust. “That’s it, baby. Fuck my fingers.” He
murmured his approval as Gwendolyn spread her slim thighs and rode his hand
with abrupt, rough rolls.

Her sex coated his fingers in her essence. That’s what he
wanted. What he needed. Muttering a harsh curse, he executed a rapid succession
of firm strokes to her clit with the pad of his thumb and plunged his fingers
deep into her spasming vise of a pussy.

Gwendolyn quaked in his embrace, climaxing with a scream
that echoed in the air. And he loved it.

“Take it, baby,” he urged, strumming her clit and thrusting
faster into the milking channel. “Don’t stop, Gwendolyn. Take every bit of it.”
For several long moments, she convulsed in his arms, riding out the storm until
only small shudders and whimpers remained.

With a raw moan, he removed his touch from her quivering
flesh and lifted his fingers to his lips. The last thing he wanted was to
abandon her pussy, but the need to taste what he’d fingered rode him just as
hard. Sliding the damp digits deep into his mouth, he sucked her juice clean.

As she sagged in his arms, Xavier encircled her hips with an
arm to hold her up. His cock demanded release. He was almost crazed with it.

He shifted her body and guided her hips farther back. With a
hard tug, he pulled her jeans lower and then pushed her legs wider apart. Her
beautiful, round ass kept a stranglehold on his attention. In several hasty
movements he attacked the zipper of his pants and freed his aching cock. The
rigid length pulsed in his fist. Shifting forward, he gripped her hip and
pressed the swollen cock head to her shadowed cleft and slowly—savoring the
initial sensation of flesh against flesh—surged upward into her pussy.

Her ass cheeks parted with the thrust of his dick and
surrounded his hard flesh.
Oh fuck.
Lust grabbed his balls and squeezed,
shoving him closer to the edge of orgasm. Gwendolyn whimpered and circled her
hips, stroking his cock. He tightened his grip on her hip and she complied with
the unspoken command, bowing deeper at the waist.

“God yes, baby,” he whispered. He bent his knees, drew back
then thrust forward into the sweetest, hottest fist of flesh. He groaned, bent
over Gwendolyn and pressed his forehead into her shoulder blade. Her tight
sheath created a perfect, heated glove for his cock. One day he wanted her
breasts like this. He withdrew and thrust forward again. Except on the
upstroke, she would fit her plump lips around his head and suck the spill of
his cum. The thought caused his hips to jerk harder, piston faster, his cock to
sink deeper.

Sounds of sex filled the air. The slap of flesh against
flesh. The soft cries and harsh groans. The wet suction and release as his cock
fucked her pussy.

“Oh God,” she sobbed. “Xavier, please.”

His breath burned his chest and throat. Sweat prickled under
his arms and at the back of his neck. The base of his spine tingled and his
balls tightened as release threatened to steal his mind.
Together.
He
thrust his dick into her pussy.
We’ll do this together.
Dipped a hand
between her legs and pressed his thumb to her clit. Hard.

For the second time, Gwendolyn came apart in his arms.

“Fuck,” he rasped and her accompanying moan contained all
the need and lust raging inside him.

He jerked back, reached inside his jacket pocket, snatched a
tissue free and covered his cock head while stroking the hard length. An
animalistic growl rumbled from his chest, catching him by surprise as the first
jet of semen erupted from his dick. Raw and primal, the power of the orgasm
reduced him to single-syllable swear words and grunts of ecstasy.

As the last shudder eased over his body, he closed his eyes
and turned his head. His cheek rested against her shoulder. He breathed her in.

God, it didn’t get any better than this.

“Take me home.”

He stood corrected.

Take me home.
The words echoed in his head as he and
Gwendolyn cleaned up and readjusted their clothing. They vibrated through him
the short ride back to the house. Even if the words had been a slip of the
tongue or a turn of phrase, she’d thought of his house as “home”.

Hope he hadn’t allowed to take root sprouted in his heart.
And for the first time, he didn’t strike it back down.

They hurried through cooling Marian down, brushing her free
of any dirt and tangles, and stored the riding gear against the rear wall of
the stable. Gwendolyn appeared as eager as he to finish the task and continue
what they’d shared in the quiet glade. To reinforce the small bridge of trust
and healing they had erected.

Hell, he just wanted her like a fat kid wanted cake.

His lips quirked. Not exactly romantic, but damn, he
couldn’t wait to lick every inch of her coffee-and-cream skin. He wanted to
gorge himself on her again and then go back for another round.

Again with the gluttony analogies.

Xavier glanced down at her as they climbed the shallow steps
to the porch and approached the front door. As she reached for the handle, he
covered her hand with his. She paused and, glancing up, arched an eyebrow. He
didn’t immediately respond to the silent question, but instead brushed her
temple with a light kiss.

“Forgive me,” he whispered. The words had swelled in his
chest and spilled out before he realized the intent to utter them.

Her forehead crinkled with a frown. “Okay,” she agreed, then
paused. “What am I forgiving you for?”

He smiled and shook his head. “Most people would ask the
question first.” His smile fell away and he grazed the backs of his fingers
over the delicate line of her jaw. “For hurting you. Never have I thought of
you as less than the beautiful, proud, giving woman you are. But I know my actions
didn’t express that. I disrespected you out of my own insecurity and bitterness
because I didn’t believe you could possibly want me. I regret my fucking
bargain now. More than you know.”

“I don’t.”

He stiffened, certain he’d heard wrong. She faced him and
tilted her head back to meet his eyes. The tenderness in her brown gaze set his
heart beating in a pounding, deafening rhythm.

“Every feverish hour spent driving here, every hurt feeling,
every urge to drop-kick you,” she smiled at his snort, “was worth your ‘fucking
bargain’. If it brought me to this moment with you, I’d do it over again in a
heartbeat.”

Jesus.
He squeezed his eyes shut as so many feelings
churned in his chest and surged up to his throat. Wonder. Hope. Fear. They
choked him, driving the breath from his body.

“Baby—”

“Xavier.”

He jerked his head up at the melodious, cultured voice. On
some vague level, he was aware of Gwendolyn’s small gasp as she whirled to face
the open door behind them. The sound reached him from a great distance as
everything around him faded to an indistinct blur and only the slender
dark-haired woman standing in the doorway remained in sharp focus.

The last time he’d seen her, she’d stood in their apartment,
naked and trembling under the silk robe she’d dragged on after he’d caught her
having sex with a man in their bed.

“Evelyn.”

“No, dear Beast,” said Beauty, “you must not die.
Alas! I thought I had only a friendship for you, but the grief I now feel
convinces me that I cannot live without you.”

—Beauty and the Beast

“Do I believe in happily ever after? No. Do I want to
believe? God, yes.”—Gwendolyn Sinclair

Evelyn.

Gwendolyn stared at the elegant, beautiful woman standing in
the foyer. The slight smile curving her lips and the gleam in her sky-blue eyes
emanated a confident assurance of her welcome. And return.

At some point after she’d appeared, their unlikely trio had
moved into the house. The transition was a foggy blur. Only the steadily
increasing dread that leached the joy from Gwen’s heart remained in sharp
focus.

Here stood the woman Xavier had been prepared to marry. And
she didn’t need to be a Rhodes Scholar to deduce if Evelyn had shown up at his
home unannounced, clad in a formfitting dress with a price tag probably
exceeding more than her entire wardrobe, the ex had arrived to change her
status.

She logged a mental comparison of her windblown hair, loose
jacket, jeans and scuffed boots to Evelyn’s smooth chignon, wraparound sheath
and knee-high stiletto boots…and wished she hadn’t. God, she must resemble a
street urchin next to Evelyn’s lady-of-the-manor appearance.

Evelyn moved forward in a sensuous glide, her smile
deepening with an increasing intimacy. Gwendolyn alternated between longing to
weep and desiring to claw the woman’s eyes out.
He’s
mine
,she
wanted to shout.
You forfeited your future with him and now he’s mine.
But she remained quiet. Even when the statuesque beauty bypassed her as if she
weren’t there and approached a motionless Xavier. Shock, fury and grief had
stolen her voice, leaving her powerless except to watch the drama unfold before
her.

She pivoted, unable to
not
watch. Helplessness bound
her arms to her sides and glued her feet to the foyer floor as the man she
loved reunited with his former fiancée.

“Xavier,” Evelyn greeted him again in a warm voice just
short of a purr. “It’s so good to see you.”

Stone-faced, eyes shards of flint, he’d reverted to the cold
stranger of a week ago. He closed the front door with a decisive thud, his gaze
never leaving Evelyn’s face. His closed expression revealed neither anger nor
welcome, resentment nor delight. Just…nothing.

“Evelyn,” he repeated. “What are you doing here?”

The hard tone halted her progress and she stiffened, the
arms she’d lifted descending back to her sides. Apparently, she had expected
Xavier to receive her with open arms. With herculean effort, Gwendolyn didn’t
cross the room and squeeze between the former lovers in order to protect Xavier
from this woman’s selfishness and conceit. She’d cast him aside as if the years
they’d been together hadn’t mattered—like
he
hadn’t mattered. Like she
hadn’t inflicted deeper, more horrible scars than a mere mark on his face.

Yes, Evelyn had wreaked far more damage. She’d executed the
death blow to his confidence, colored how he viewed the world and people in it.
And her wound had been worse because the strike had come from someone he’d
trusted. He’d loved.

What a fool.

If she ever had Xavier’s love, his trust, Gwendolyn would
harm herself before causing him pain.

“I came to see you. I’ve missed you,” she said and Gwendolyn
almost believed the sincerity lacing the claim. Evelyn placed a manicured hand
on his chest, over his heart, and Gwendolyn’s nails bit into her palms, the
sting a sharp reminder she couldn’t slap the offending touch away.

“Really.” He arched an eyebrow. “How did you know I was
here?”

“Your mother told me.”

A twist of his lips. “Of course.” Finally, he stepped back.
Evelyn’s hand fell from him and the fist around Gwendolyn’s heart released its
tight grip. “Well, you’re here. Say what you came to get off your chest so I
can get on with my day.”

If possible, more steel entered her spine. But her tone
remained even, confident.

“Can we have a little,” she turned and pinned Gwendolyn with
a hard stare, “privacy? This is between you and me.”

As if remembering she stood there with them, Xavier lifted
his penetrating gaze to her. Until then, she retained a tiny hope he would…
God, she didn’t know. Tell Evelyn to get the hell out? Tell her…tell her he
loved someone new? Like her?

One look in his eyes and she threw those hopes away like
yesterday’s garbage.

He intended on meeting with Evelyn. And after that?

“I’ll head upstairs,” she murmured and trapped a primal
scream in her chest. Still…why weren’t the pristine hardwood floors smeared
with her blood as it pumped from the ragged gash in her heart? “Excuse me.”

She spun on her heel, crossed the foyer and climbed the
steps. The deal entailed seven days, not a lifetime. No promises of happily
ever after.

Too bad her foolish heart had started to believe in them.

* * * * *

“Wasn’t that Joshua’s fiancée?”

Xavier folded his arms and stared at the woman who—at one
time—he’d planned a life with. Seven months hadn’t wrought any changes. Still
beautiful, classy, sexy. Still unable to look him fully in the face.

No, their time apart hadn’t brought changes in her, but it
had worked wonders for him. Her sudden appearance should have ignited a chain
reaction of anger, insecurity, resentment and pain. Instead it elicited only
curiosity and irritation over the interruption in his day.

Gwendolyn had done that for him. Incredibly, her
unconditional acceptance had healed him. An image of her eyes as she caressed
his scar and admitted she thanked God for it rose to mind.

She’d performed a miracle and he had only to peer inside
himself to marvel at the wonder of its power.

“Gwendolyn.” He supplied her name, resting his spine against
the mantel. “And no, since my brother died six years ago, Gwendolyn is not
Joshua’s fiancée.”

Evelyn flicked her fingers in an impatient gesture. “You
know what I mean, Xavier.” She frowned. “What is she doing here?”

“The better question,” he countered, cocking his head, “is
what are
you
doing here? She was invited. You, on the other hand, were
not.”

Her calm, sophisticated façade wavered for a quick moment
before reassuming its placid, pleasant lines. Too late, though. He’d glimpsed
the annoyance beneath. Inside he smiled. Good. He had no desire to be
vindictive, but now she grasped he wasn’t some desperate, lovesick sap, thankful
to be blessed by her presence.

The woman who held the power to bring him to his knees
occupied a room upstairs. And the need to be with her ached like a limb had
been amputated.

“I don’t have the time or patience for twenty questions,” he
growled. “Spill it or leave.”

“I deserve your anger.” She drew closer to him, her clear
blue eyes dark with regret. “Yell at me. Call me a bitch. I’ve earned every bit
of your resentment.”

“How magnanimous of you.”

“Honey,” she whispered and settled a slender hand on his
biceps.

He unfolded his arms and dropped his hands to his sides. But
his aversion to her touch didn’t deter her. As in the foyer, she splayed her
fingers over his chest. At one time the same gesture and sexy pout could have
wheedled anything out of him. Now the effect only left an urge to pluck her
hand away.

“I know I hurt you. I made a horrible mistake. But please,
give me a chance to make it up to you. I’ve been miserable without you. We were
so good together and I was a fool to throw our relationship away so carelessly.
Please,” she pleaded again, voice soft. She lowered her gaze to his chest, the
very picture of demure contrition. “Give me…us…another try. We are worth it.”

“Evelyn, look at me.”

Confusion crossed her lovely features at his low command.
“What do—”

“
Look
at me.”

A spasm of what he could only define as dismay rippled
across her face. She peeked at his scar, glanced away. It should have stabbed
deep, her distaste. And on some level, it did sting. The horror-tinged
expressions on people’s faces as they stared into his would most likely never
cease to hurt. But dampening their repugnance would be the memory of Gwendolyn,
trailing kisses over every inch of the puckered flesh, worshipping his scar as
if it were precious instead of disgusting.

He could bear the slight pain with that vision offsetting
it.

“Xavier, I—”

“Exactly what I figured,” he murmured. “How can we have a
future when you can’t even bear to look me in the face? Do you think it’s going
to disappear?” He encircled her wrist, lifted her palm to his cheek and set her
skin against it. “This is me.”

She snatched her hand away as if the mark had singed her
flesh and shuffled backward, the awkward gesture incongruous with the urbane
image she projected. She rubbed her thumb over her palm as if she could wipe
the touch away. He doubted his ex-fiancée was conscious of the nervous action,
but it shouted the truth to him.

“Don’t say that,” she ordered as she turned from him. With a
deep inhalation of breath, she gathered her composure before confronting him
again. “It is not you.”

“You’re right,” he agreed and straightened off the mantel,
shoving his hands in his pockets. “It isn’t. I’m more than this scar. I’m a man
who still breathes, still works, is learning to laugh again and still loves.
And wants to be loved. Deserves to be loved.”

“I do love you!”

He shook his head at her husky cry. “You couldn’t have
walked away so easily if you did.”

Fury twisted her features and a hint of pain penetrated the
angry mask. It dawned on him like the morning sun rising over the horizon.
Evelyn did care for him. As much as her heart was capable. Though a product of
the same self-entitled upbringing he’d been reared in, she hadn’t benefited
from the love, patience and humility his parents—especially his father—had
passed on to him. Those qualities had counterbalanced the elitism that existed
among his peers.

He sighed and tunneled his fingers through his hair, gripped
a handful at his nape before dropping his arm back to his side. “I’m not being
vengeful. And I’m not trying to hurt you—”

“But you are!” she shouted. “I cheated on you. I’m sorry.
More than you’ll ever know. And I can understand you want to punish me for it,
but for how long? I’m asking you not to do this.”

“Yes, you cheated.” Yet as much as her betrayal grated, if
their love had been strong enough, even that could’ve been forgiven in time.
“But it wasn’t the act as much as the reason behind it.” He hardened his voice
when she cut her eyes away from him. Even now she couldn’t—refused to—face the
truth. “My face repulsed you so much the thought of making love to me drove you
into the arms of another man. That’s not leaving the toilet seat up. It’s not
something we can work on in counseling.”

“Xavier.”

“Don’t.” He didn’t have it in him to be cruel. At some point
during the past week, love had dulled the sharp edge of his anger toward this
woman. How could he hold a grudge against Evelyn when her actions—though like a
knife in his heart at the time—had propelled him to this place, this time?

To Gwendolyn.

If she hadn’t ended their engagement, he would have been
trapped in a loveless marriage with a woman who couldn’t bear his touch, much
less love him.

Gwendolyn would have never betrayed him. Never would have
abandoned—

The truth struck him with the force of a blow to the jaw.

She loved him.

Gwendolyn loved him.

Every gesture, word and smile during the past week flew
through his mind at breakneck speed. His gut clenched. His throat worked as it
struggled to swallow the tennis ball-sized lump of cautious excitement. Her
laughter as she teased him. Her voice as she’d called him beautiful. Her
uninhibited response to his touch. Her eyes as she’d thanked God for his scar,
his life.

“Shit,” he whispered.

Awe filled him. Along with a joy so precious, so scary in
its sheer power, his heart drummed in his chest, drowning out everything but
its bass reverberations. Evelyn’s lips moved, but not one word penetrated the
roar deafening his ears. He didn’t care. If it didn’t involve escaping this
room and getting to the woman upstairs as soon as possible, he didn’t give a
fuck.

“It’s over, Evelyn.” The statement brooked no further
discussion. “There is no going back. And I don’t want to. I’ll walk you out.”

He strode forward and with a light but unyielding grip, guided
her toward the study door.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” she snapped, jerking her arm from his
hold. A sharp bark of laughter pierced the room as her lip curled in a
humorless smile. “It’s always been her.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Give me some credit,” she said bitterly. “Did you believe I
didn’t know there was always someone else?”

“What are you
talking
about?” he repeated, baffled.
He held his palms out, clueless. “I never cheated on you.”

“Right,” she scoffed. “I slept with another man, but he
didn’t have my heart. Yet, then again, I never had yours. Not completely. In
some ways, your infidelity was worse.” When he shook his head, she emitted
another of those abrupt cracks of laughter. “I noticed the way you watched her,
Xavier. Ever solicitous of your brother’s fiancée. Always attentive. God, I was
such an idiot.”

Again shock paralyzed him. Her accusations bounced against
his skull like a demented ping-pong ball.
Jesus.
Had he withheld part of
himself from Evelyn the years they’d been together? He hadn’t…

Yes. He had. For more than half his life, Gwendolyn had been
an integral presence. First as a little sister, then as a friend and
finally…finally as the woman who had healed his soul with her loveliness,
laughter and light.