Ten Thousand Words (51 page)

“I…” I wasn’t going to be able to walk. I was going to spend the entire evening crawling behind her. “You…” And being completely incoherent, it seemed. “Holy shit.”

She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, and my cock throbbed.

“You look mighty handsome,” she told me. She walked up and planted a kiss on my slack jaw. “I love it when you wear suspenders.”

I made a mental note to get a pair for every day of the week in every color and fabric imaginable.

“Xanthe…”
I whispered.

Her beauty radiated outward, touching me and warming me as nothing else ever could. Dipping my head, I pressed my lips to hers, inhaling her intoxicating scent. Skimming up her curves from her hips to her breasts to her neck, my hands cradled her precious face.

“You are stunning, love. Can I take some photos before we head down?”

“Sure,” she replied.

My camera was at the ready, waiting for me on the bed. Pulling my baby out of its case, I quickly captured a few shots of my love.

“Go stand by the window,” I told her, following her.

As she turned around to face me, I reached out and undid the first two buttons on her dress. The damn things went nearly to her neck, hiding her tattoo. Gently, I traced the feather with my fingertip, watching her skin rise with goose bumps.

“I love that I have the same effect on you, as you do me.”

“I give you goose bumps?” she asked, the corners of her lips curling upward.

“Oh, yes. All over.”

Taking a few steps back, I took a few more photos with the last of the light from the sunset illuminating her. The auburn of her hair was lit up and fiery, her pale skin and rosy cheeks were glowing, and her full lips pulsed a raspberry hue.

“Oh my God…” I breathed, clicking madly at my camera. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

She flushed prettily. “Come on,” she said, holding out her hand. “We shouldn’t be late.”

I wanted to lock the door, strip her naked, and never let her leave our bed. “Do we have to?”

“Yes!”
She laughed.

Taking her hand, I willed my cock to deflate, and I led her out of the bedroom. I was going to have to share her again, damn it.

Everyone was already downstairs. Trey was the first to spot us, and when he took in the sight of my love, his jaw dropped. I knew he had seen the beauty in her before, but she was simply magnificent tonight. Rex looked up, too, and watched, wide-eyed, as we descended the stairs.

“You look amazing,” I whispered in her ear. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, love.”

“I’m glad you think so,” she replied, beaming her breath-snatching smile at me.

At the bottom of the steps, Rex pulled her in for a hug. My pride was salvaged when she refused to release my hand. Then, her father came in, and I had to let her go for that one.

One day, he’ll be handing her over to me permanently,
I promised myself.

My parents, Tessa, and William came over, giving us greetings and hugs. My mother was going to squeeze my woman until she passed out.

“What’s this?” Mama asked, pulling back the opening of Xanthe’s dress. “A tattoo?”

Xanthe flushed bright crimson. “Yes,” she replied softly.

“It’s beautiful! A feather?”

“A quill,” I told my mother.

“It’s not like some of those horrid tattoos I’ve seen. This is art.”

“I’ll be sure to tell the artist then,” I said, pulling Xanthe out of my mother’s clutches.

I’d noticed Cynthia sneering when she heard Mama, and her eyes were narrowed on Xanthe’s chest.

The food was already set on the table, and I took a few pictures of the fare before we all sat down. To my irritation, Cynthia sat directly in front of us with Matteo between her and Pedro. Pedro shyly smiled at us. I liked him. I was starting to wonder what the hell he saw in my sister.

David took the seat to the right of Xanthe, and Trey was to my left. Rex sat next to Trey, and Ellen was given the head of the table. Conversation and laughter flowed, and it was just an all-around good vibe.

“Oh God, Mama,” Trey said with a bit of a groan in his voice as we dug into the feast. “I’ve missed your food.”

“I can tell,” replied my mother. “Come home more often, so I can fatten you up.”

“So, Oliver,” said Cynthia as the staff began clearing the table for coffee and dessert, “I bought that book that has you on the cover.”

“Yeah?” I asked, smiling. I reached out and took Xanthe’s hand, twining our fingers together.

“Yes. I must say, I’m a little surprised you’d put your face on such a horrid story. I mean, did you even
read
it?”

The smile slid off my face. “I did. I loved it. And I’ve read the rest of the series. Have you?”

“Absolutely not. Elaine Ford is as crass as they come. The language was foul, and the, erm…
intimate
scenes…were
so
over the top. Don’t get me wrong. The writing is good, so I suppose that shows some quality. But I’ve never associated your face with such a crude character as that Donovan.”

Xanthe swallowed audibly next to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her father pat her knee.

“Xanthe, what do you think of Oliver on that cover? Have you read Ford’s work?”

Damn, the whole room was as silent as a bloody tomb. I glanced at Ellen, who looked ready to throw her glass of merlot in my sister’s face.

Clearing her throat, Xanthe replied, “I’m acquainted with it, yes.”

How does Cynthia not know that Elaine is Xanthe?
Didn’t I tell her?

Tessa was staring at me, her mouth slightly hanging open.

“The subjects she writes about…she must be disturbed in her head, coming up with such horrors as that. I can’t see how a sane person could have imagined such things.”

That knifed me straight through my heart. I had said that very thing myself once, but
hearing
it…my God, I’d been such an asshole. “Cynthia…shut your mouth.”

“What? I can’t express my opinion? Elaine Ford writes sick stories.”

If my mother could crawl beneath the table in shame right then, I believed she would.

“You’re an author,” said Cynthia to Xanthe even though she sounded as though she didn’t believe it. “What sort of stories do you write? Would I have heard of your work at all?”

“It would seem so,” Xanthe replied dryly as she reached for her glass of water.

“Really? What?” Finally, the bitch sounded impressed.

Next to me, Trey coughed, and Rex snorted back a laugh, which made Ellen cackle.

“What’s so funny?” demanded Cynthia, glaring at Rex. She wouldn’t dare disrespect an old woman in front of my parents.

“Let’s see,” said Xanthe. “I wrote
Haunted Bonds
,
Phoenix Rising
,
The Torn Veil
—”

“You’re naming the Paranormal Hunters books,” scoffed my sister.

“I know. I wrote them.”

The silence could be fucking felt. A quiet fury was pounding its way through my love.

In a voice ringing with deserved pride, Xanthe looked my sister dead in the eyes and said, “
I
am Elaine H. Ford. I wrote that crude, sick shit you swear must have come from a disturbed imagination. But thank you for saying that the writing wasn’t bad. I did attend university to be able to lend credibility to such crassness.”

Those were the words I’d deserved to hear from Xanthe two months ago.

Cynthia’s jaw dropped, and her face turned a very unattractive blotchy red. Ellen howled with laughter, and Rex couldn’t help it. He joined her. Soon, the whole table was roaring, and my sister stood and ran for the stairs.

Sighing dramatically, Pedro picked up Matteo and placed him in my mother’s arms. “He still deserves dessert even if his mama made an ass of herself,” he told us.

“Yes, he does,” agreed Mama.

Pedro hurried off. Hopefully, he’d get Cynthia in a better mood.

“I read your book, Xanthe,” Mama said. “I thought it was brilliant. The crassness and sex only made it better.”

“Right?” said Ellen. “Those were the best parts.”

Although Xanthe had acted as though the scene my sister had caused didn’t bother her, I knew better. Her face smoothed into a mask of indifference, and she hardly touched her lava cake and fruit salad. She did enjoy the espresso though.

After the table was cleared, we were all supposed to go and do stuff as a family, but Xanthe excused herself, saying she had a headache and needed a painkiller.

“Love,” I said softly.

She shook her head. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

With a heavy heart, I watched the most beautiful woman in my world walk up the grand staircase.

“You’re a fool if you don’t go after her,” Aunt Ellen said right behind me. “I told you what she went through as a child. Your sister and her nasty mouth have done some damage to Xanthe’s psyche. She knows she’s not insane, but that doesn’t mean she won’t question it.”

Not needing to be told twice, I bounded the stairs two at a time.

In our room, I found Xanthe sitting on the bed, looking so lost.

“Love, please tell me you aren’t letting her words get to you. You must know that she was trying to tear me down. She had no idea she was—”

“I know,” she interrupted. “Doesn’t make it any more pleasant to hear though.”

“No, I suppose not.” I sat down next to her. “But my mother loved your book. That has to count for something. She used to read the ones with Fabio on the covers.”

Xanthe gave me a watery laugh, and I pulled her into my arms, kissing her glossy curls. I wished I could take away her pain. I had a feeling that she wouldn’t want me to though. My love embraced what life threw at her—the good, the bad, all of it—and she processed it through her imagination to come up with the most amazing tales.

“Do you really have a headache?” I asked.

“No. We can go back if you want.”

I felt that we had fulfilled any familial obligations. What I wanted was to make love to her until neither of us could move.

“Can we just stay up here?” I asked. Gently, I coaxed her to lie back. “There’s this present I’m dying to unwrap.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mmhmm…” I plucked at the row of buttons that went down to her waist, slowly exposing her lace-covered chest and creamy torso.

She was wearing one of the new bras I’d gotten her, black lace and silk. Peeling back one side of the dress, I could see her pierced nipple through the delicate fabric. Blood surged into my cock full force.

With my tongue, I traced along the quill tattoo. My right hand smoothed up her stocking-clad calf, up under the skirt, and to her inner thigh where I felt the fabric end and her warm satiny skin begin. I gasped, knowing what that meant. Sliding my hand to the front of her thigh, I felt the garter strap.

“Fuck me, love. What are you wearing under your dress?”

She grinned. “You should find out for yourself. It’s your present, after all.”

Slowly, my hand skimmed higher. Swallowing hard, I felt the bare hot flesh of her sex, my mind creating the images that my fingers were showing me. “
Oh
God
…”

She giggled and pushed my hand away, sitting up.

“Woman…”

She stood, and I rolled onto my back, leaning up on my elbows, greedily watching her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back down?” she asked, fiddling with the buttons, threatening to close them up.

“I’m bloody positive,” I told her, sounding angry. “Show me.”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” she said, looking down the length of her body. “You sound awfully grumpy.”

“Do it.” My voice bit into the space between us, space I didn’t like being there.

Smiling, she rolled her shoulders out of the dress.

I groaned.

She shimmied her rump and pulled the dress over her hips.

My heart was pounding. My cock…that fucker was going to tear its way out of my pants. It ached so hard, I had to reach down and squeeze myself through the fabric.

The dress hit the floor.

My possessive need to own this woman shot through the roof.

Xanthe daintily stepped out of the dress. Her cheeks blooming with roses, she couldn’t look up at me.

Holy mother of God.

“Love,” I said, hardly recognizing my own voice.

“Yes?”

“Look at me.”

The blast from her hazel eyes nearly laid me flat.

“I am going to lie down, all right?”

She nodded.

“Then, you are going to crawl your gorgeous self up my body, and you are going to fucking sit on my face.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

Fuck yes!

Kicking off my shoes, I scrambled to the center of the bed, once more propping myself up on my elbows. Xanthe actually turned on her heel and headed for the door. I was about to yell at her to get her arse back here, but she’d had the foresight to lock the door, and I was rewarded for keeping my mouth shut with the sight of those panties framing her naughty bits.

Her sexy walk as she sashayed back to me made my mouth water. Pausing at my feet, she tugged off my socks. Then, she crawled between my legs until her knees pressed into my inner thighs. Her hand skirted up the rigid length of me, squeezing hard.