Xander raked a hand through his hair, at a loss to explain why he’d fixated on this little virgin. What was it about her that kept tugging him back?

She was real. She’d said no. And for the first time in a long time he wanted to know a woman beyond her appearance and her preferences in bed.

“You don’t have to tell me what you think I want to hear, Xander,” she said, turning back to him. “You made yourself clear. I accept that you’re not really interested—”

“No, that’s what you decided. That’s not what I said.” He cut her off, anger and surprising jealousy brewing. “You surprised me. I wanted to talk to you more, make sure you really wanted sex before I took something from you that I can’t give back. London, I went down on you until you came on my tongue. What more would you like me to do to prove that I’m interested?”

She blushed, then cast a nervous glance back to Javier again, who looked on with sleepy eyes. He couldn’t be hearing much, and that was just fine with Xander.

“Do you have to bring that up?” London flushed sweetly.

“If you’re going to act like I don’t exist, then yes. I’m not giving you an easy opportunity to walk away from me again. I want you, London.”

“You want a lot of girls, prettier ones. Wouldn’t you rather have one more experienced? I think maybe I need someone who’s more my speed.”

“What? A ‘nice’ guy you meet at a library or church group?”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Hell if that visual didn’t crawl up his back and gnaw at his brain. “Bullshit. Is a guy like that going to make your blood race, belleza?”

“That may be what you want, but I’m looking for something more . . . meaningful.”

“Meaningful? You offered me your virginity on your cousin’s bed like you couldn’t wait to get rid of it.” He cocked his head. Predictably, she didn’t answer. “You’re afraid.”

“A little.” She bit her lip as if that was a hard admission.

He softened. She’d been protecting herself. Clearly, she knew his reputation. And really, he didn’t blame her. In her shoes, he would be reluctant, too. That didn’t make him less annoyed.

“I understand. Just go to lunch with me. We’ll talk.” When she looked ready to refuse, he rushed on. “Just talk. I’ll set your mind at ease. If you’re still not sure or not ready, I’ll walk away. No harm. No foul.”

He wasn’t sure he could keep his word on that, so he’d just have to do his best to convince her. Because the thought of never seeing her again made him surprisingly crazy. He wasn’t sure if it was the thrill of the chase he’d never had to give, or because with her he saw the world through fresh eyes. Sex, which had long ago ceased being different or interesting, had been novel with her. Because it had been novel to her.

Xander wasn’t giving up.

“Take a chance.” He stepped even closer and wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing her closer. “If you’re worried that you’re somehow too inexperienced to be woman enough or some such shit, don’t. I haven’t stopped thinking about you for days.”

Beneath him, her sweet pink lips parted. She blinked, and longing filled those lovely blue eyes. No way he could resist that. He didn’t even try.

Lowering his head, he layered his mouth over London’s. God, she was everything he remembered and more. That citrusy-floral scent swamped him as her lips dissolved against his like the most sugary cotton candy. He sank into her silken mouth, wrapping his hands in her hair and dragging her closer. A kiss alone rarely got him hard anymore, but his cock was standing up full and stretched tall to greet her.

Jesus, he wanted to inhale London. Her sweetness . . . that’s what had lingered in his memory. She’d rolled around in his mind, and he’d half-wondered if he’d imagined her honeyed taste and the cloud-soft feel of her body against his. For years, he’d been fucking females who felt more like tree branches. Girls, not women. London had reformed him. From now on, boobs and hips were an absolute must.

Beneath him, she opened her lips wider, and he greedily drank in every new bit of herself she yielded to him. He thrust his way into her mouth with a hungry groan, prowling, staking a claim. Would he ever grow tired of the way she melted into him? Her submission to the kiss, no matter how hungry it turned, was absolute. With her, he felt ten feet tall. She was so damn perfect. And she made him so fucking hard.

This vertical shit wasn’t working, but Javier took up the only sofa in the room. Xander settled for a wall, backing London up against it and taking complete control of the kiss. Then he nipped his way over her neck, his mouth resting at her ear. “You make me so hot, belleza. I was an idiot last week to hesitate. I haven’t forgotten you. I haven’t wanted anyone else—”

London pushed away from him. “Enough.”

She panted, wedging a hand between them to rest on the swells of her breasts, as if she was trying to catch her breath. Even that looked sexy as hell, and he’d give anything to have his palm right where she had hers. Which gave him all kinds of great ideas.

He cupped the indentation of her waist and leaned into the plush flesh of her abdomen, letting her feel how much he wanted her. “It’s not enough at all. I don’t know if I can get enough. I’m dying to touch you. Give me a second chance, and I’ll make this so good for you.”

He didn’t give her a chance to reply before he let his palm drift up. He cupped her breast and thumbed her nipple. She swayed a bit on her feet and moaned softly. Her eyes fluttered closed. Her body turned so pliant against him.

“Xander . . .” She half-opened her blue eyes to him, both vulnerable and damn sexy.

He sucked in a breath as he teased her nipple again with a slow caress. Passion softened her face, shaped by a bit of surprise. She hadn’t expected to be this aroused by his touch. She was so new to desire, and Xander wanted to fan that flame until she burned so hot she never thought of leaving his bed.


“Belleza, I’ll give you so much pleasure.” He kept thumbing the hard bud of her nipple slowly, back and forth, marveling as her cheeks flushed rosy. Her lips parted in silent invitation, his for the taking.

Fuck, he didn’t think he could wait much longer. Here wasn’t the place to take her virginity. Now wasn’t the time. But he had to have more of her. He had to see those gorgeous breasts again. Suck them. Taste them. Remind her how good he could make her feel.

One after the other, he tore through the buttons on her dress and shoved the edges of the garment wide. With one hand, he reached behind her to unsnap her bra. It fell slightly away from her body, and her breasts hung free in his hand. The bra still covered her nipples, and the wall, coupled with his closeness, impeded him. Damn. He wanted to see her bare. He wanted that sunlight to slant through the window over her fair skin and light up those pink nipples before he put them in his mouth. He wanted to rip all her clothes away, guide her to her knees, and feed his cock past those pretty little lips.

“Xander,” she panted, her voice breathy and slurred.

It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. He breathed his appreciation across her skin, a little groan in the sound of her name as he kissed her neck, then brushed his lips down her collarbones, to the swells of her breasts. He eased the bra aside and latched onto her nipple. Hard against his tongue. Oh so sweet. She threaded her fingers in his hair and brought him closer. Yes, perfect. Almost exactly where he wanted her. Supine on a bed would be better, with him between her spread legs. Soon, he promised himself. Very soon.

He pushed the bra down a bit farther, but the sleeves of her dress made removing it impossible. Fine, he’d work around it.

“Belleza, whatever you want, I want to give to you. Open to me. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to make this an experience you never forget.”

Leather creaked, and Xander heard a roar from the other side of the room. “Get your fucking hands off my assistant!”

Javier. Xander recognized his brother’s voice.

London was Javier’s assistant? When had that happened?

Javi reached between him and London to grab him by the neck of his T-shirt, then shove him against the wall face-first. Xander fought, but his brother was surprisingly strong and agile for a drunk man.

“Let me the fuck go.” Xander elbowed Javier, who grunted and loosened his grip.

He turned to find Javier in his face, his breath reeking of vodka . . . and his hot stare all over London’s mostly exposed breasts. His brother looked rapt. Javier held his breath, as if he was afraid that moving or speaking would break the spell. London met his brother’s gaze, trembling, as if she was both fascinated and terrified. She stood frozen, her heartbeat throbbing in her neck. Xander had no doubt that in seconds, his brother would have his hands all over the breasts only he’d ever touched.

Fuck that. Xander wasn’t letting Javier horn in. Besides, the boss shouldn’t even be thinking about sex and his employee in the same sentence.

But Javier was definitely thinking it. He raised his hand toward her, heading straight for her plump breast rising and falling with each ragged breath, toward that hard nipple still wet from his mouth.

“Don’t,” Xander snarled.

His command broke the spell. With a gasp, London scrambled back into her bra, trying to reach behind her to fasten it again. Tears welled in her eyes. And that pissed Xander off.

“You embarrassed her,” he accused Javier, reaching over to help her with her bra.

His brother growled and stepped between them, shoving his hand away. “You don’t ever touch her again.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell his brother that London had offered him her virginity, but that would only upset her more, besides being disrespectful to her. “We were talking, and you weren’t invited to our conversation.”

“That wasn’t talking; it was mauling. I know way too much about who and what you are to believe that you’ll be good for her.” Thunder rolled across Javier’s dark face. “You’ll fuck London, then leave her for some skanky whore willing to blow you in a bathroom stall. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you’ve never come down a girl’s throat while you’re cruising at twice the speed limit down the Santa Monica freeway at two in the morning.”

Xander couldn’t say that he hadn’t done either of those things. Seeing red, he clenched his jaw and surged forward, right in Javier’s face. “Shut up. This is between London and me. You’re her boss. Not her boyfriend. Not her lover. Not her Master. I know you want to control everything and everyone around you. Guess the fuck what? That doesn’t work with me. You’re the Titanic, Javier. You’re going down and you won’t let anyone help you. I’m not letting you take London with you.”

Javier opened his mouth, a snarl already on his lips. A little sob broke the tense moment. Xander looked past his brother, who whipped his head around toward London. Her blue eyes were filled with tears, her nose red, her chin trembling. She wouldn’t be a pretty crier. She’d gone splotchy across her chest, her eyes were reddening. His heart dropped.

“Stop it, both of you.” She barely managed to choke out the words.

While he and Javier had been at one another’s throats, she’d struggled back into her bra and nearly finished buttoning her dress. As the last hint of cleavage disappeared behind the modest cotton, he felt some of the tension leave his brother. Javier wanted her—more than a little. And London wasn’t immune. That was a wrinkle he hadn’t seen coming. Fuck.

“I’m sorry.” He reached around his brother to pull her close and comfort her.

Javier remained a wall between them, totally unwilling to move his tall frame. “Are you all right, little one?”

She flushed, looking down. Her body softened. Xander didn’t miss her submissive posture. No way Javier would, either. A glance told Xander that, without a doubt, Javier knew that she could—and would—probably enjoy submitting.

“I’m fine,” she whispered. “I’m . . .”

London looked as if she wanted to apologize to Javier, but found it too awkward to apologize to her boss for being wrapped in the embrace of the brother he despised. Javier gave an abrupt nod, ending that conversation.

“I’d like to go home. Can you take me?” Javier asked London, never once casting a glance in Xander’s direction.

Xander didn’t want that to hurt, but it was just another affirmation that his own brother didn’t need or want him in any area of his life. London couldn’t have been his assistant for more than a day or two. Why was he willing to rely on her and not his own flesh and blood? That mystery aside, there was no way in hell he was leaving London alone with Javier when he was this drunk. And horny.

“I’ll drive.” He phrased it like an offer, but it was a demand, pure and simple.



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