Dropping his face back to the fragrant curve between her neck and shoulder, he swept kisses across her skin. So fucking soft—everywhere, every inch. Jesus, he could touch her all damn day and not be bored. And she smelled so luscious, a bit citrusy in the first breath, but then jasmine and vanilla came along and flirted with his sense of smell, luring him even closer.
More. He definitely needed more of her. Granted, it never took his cock long to stand up and salute beauty, but this one might have set a record, even for him. Lovely, pale, and so naturally submissive. And real. She was everything he prized. Everything he craved. Everything he’d been missing in life.
He glanced down to see her lush ass covered in ugly beige cargo pants. If he got his hands on her, he’d rip those off. He’d love to dress her in little skirts that would give him easy access to every one of her soft secrets. When they were alone, panties would definitely be forbidden, along with anything that obstructed him from all the slick softness he desperately wanted to see, touch . . . taste. He was going to have to ask Alyssa where and why she’d been hiding this delicious indulgence.
With an expectant grin, he braced his hands on London’s waist and turned her to face him. An even row of little white teeth emerged to chew on that plump lower lip uncertainly. Her body shook with obvious nerves.
Frowning, Xander braced a finger under her chin and lifted gently. “Look at me.”
Her thick lashes fluttered open over eyes so blue they punched him in the gut. It wasn’t just with their beautiful color; it was everything about her. He’d fucked some of the most physically beautiful women in the world, on every continent except Antarctica. He’d skipped that one; nothing to see there, and he hated cold. But he’d joined the mile-high club at seventeen, so that evened things out. But all those memories faded as he looked at London.
What jabbed him now was her expressiveness. Every thought in her head was all over her face. Fear. Anxiety. Curiosity. And the shyest desire. She looked at him like a penniless kid peeking in a candy store’s window. But she didn’t make a single move toward him.
He’d come here to find a convenient girl to spend the afternoon with and work out some of his tension. Xander couldn’t escape the feeling that he’d found much more. They’d barely exchanged more than a handful of words, but she already presented him so many intriguing contradictions. A beauty whose striptease had him needing to adjust himself in his way-too-tight pants so unsure of her own appeal. She never had answered his question about whether she danced here, and now he was inclined to think that she not only didn’t work for Alyssa, she’d never taken her clothes off in public. Which begged the question . . . why was London onstage stripping when she hadn’t expected an audience?
Her chest rose enticingly with a deep breath, and Xander couldn’t fail to notice that the top button popped open above her luscious breasts and gave him a sinful shot of her cleavage. Before the sight short-circuited his brain altogether and he abandoned his finessed seduction, he met her stare.
London’s eyes were definitely the windows to her soul. Inside, he saw a woman so kind and gentle. But he sensed a wildness, an impatience. Need.
“You want me to kiss you?” he murmured against her mouth.
She drew in a little breath, lips parted. “Yes.”
London breathed the word, and it went straight to his cock. “You want me to take off your clothes, taste your body, then fuck you deep and swallow your cries of pleasure with my lips?”
Parting her glossy lips, she blinked at him again, hesitating. She swayed on her feet, digging her fingers into his shoulders to steady herself. “Yes.”
Fuck, yes. Right here. Right now. They were alone. But something about this girl . . . He wouldn’t be satisfied with a quickie on the rickety little table, bracing her back against the wall as he shoved his cock into her. She needed more care. Why else would he call her a beauty in his ancestors’ language when “babe” worked for nearly every other conquest? Xander deeply suspected that unleashing all his desire burning for London by spreading her legs right here would scare her. This one was a project. He had hours to kill. Hell, days and weeks. He could devote time to this beauty’s seduction.
“That’s what I want, too, belleza. But not here.”
And now that he’d promised to leave the rental house to Javier, he couldn’t take London there. He also wasn’t keen on bringing her to the scene of his debauched antics with Megan, Shelby and . . . what was her name? Alexis. Yeah, London didn’t belong there.
“Is your place nearby?”
She looked slightly panicked. “No. I mean, yes, I live nearby, but we can’t go there. I’m staying with family. My cousin . . .”
“Might walk in on us?”
“Exactly.”
He remembered seeing a hotel not far from here. It wasn’t a five-star establishment, but it would have to do. Xander took her hand. “I’ve got an idea, if you’ll come with me.”
At that moment, the phone in her pants pocket dinged with a text message. She took it out, read, frowned, then tapped out a reply before pocketing her phone again and drawing in a deep breath. “I think I’ve got a better idea. Come with me?”
He smiled, anticipation exploding through his body, flooding his eager cock even more painfully. “Lead the way, belleza.”
London squeezed past him, and he palmed her ass as she did. At her indrawn breath, he flashed her a grin. Then she made her way to the front door and locked it. The decisive metallic clink resounded through the empty space. Now they were totally alone. Oh, yeah. This was going to be good.
Once they cleared the bar, Xander snagged her hand, clasping it tightly in his, then followed her across the concrete floor, up the stairs at the back of the club. She opened the door at the top. Once inside, a four-posted bed filled the space. Man, what he couldn’t do here with London and a nice, long length of nylon restraints. The thought had him shoving back a groan.
Inside, sharp, artsy black-and-white photographs, mostly landscapes, hung on the walls. The white comforter looked downy and inviting as sunlight streamed in across the bed.
Xander closed the door behind them. “Excellent. No one will disturb us?”
She licked her lips nervously. “Not for a few hours.”
“Oh, belleza . . . You are in so much trouble. God, you don’t even know how thoroughly I’m going to fuck you.”
She swallowed, then blinked up at him with those blue eyes. “Then . . . you’ll have to show me.”
Her sweet little voice sounded breathless, and he saw the pulse pounding at the base of her neck. London was more than a little nervous. He’d calm her down and jack her up on pleasure, then she’d stop overthinking it.
“That’s my plan.” He drew her closer, flush against him. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”
She tried to nod, but he tangled his hands in her hair so she couldn’t move. He didn’t quite have her where he wanted her, but soon.
Nudging her back, he laid her across the bed, following her down into the cloud of soft white bedding. She looked gorgeous with her pale hair spread all around and her soft face just beneath him, her heavy-lidded eyes more than a bit aroused. This one would be responsive, and despite last night’s depravity, Xander couldn’t wait. Something about her was new and fresh. Different. Almost pure.
Covering her body with his own, he hissed at the feel of her curves melding against him. Then he cupped her cheek in his hand. Beautiful. She blinked up at him, her fair skin glowing rosy. Already, he felt like one lucky son of a bitch.
“Y-you’re staring.”
“I’m contemplating all the ways I’m going to make you come for me.” Her breath caught and her cheeks flushed. Xander simply smiled. “Shy, belleza?”
“A little.”
Clearly more than a little, but he let the white lie slide for now. Rather than using his lips to berate her, he’d ten times rather kiss her.
Xander leaned in, giving her time to object. But she didn’t. He brushed his lips over hers softly, seeking and testing. She opened beneath him like a butterfly, tentatively at first before her lips finally parted. She let him in, gasping as he entered her mouth, his tongue sliding against hers in a slow, sexy tango.
London gripped his shoulders, almost frozen beneath him. She panted hard. He could feel her heart racing against his chest.
“Relax. It’s okay. I’ll make you feel good.”
At his whisper, London nodded. She was doing her best to trust him, and for now it would have to be enough. He’d prove his point soon. Until he could, Xander slipped a hand behind her nape, slanted his mouth over hers, and feasted.
The sweetness he’d tasted on her tongue the first time now exploded across his senses. She surrendered to the kiss, her body turning soft beneath him as she grabbed him like she’d never let go.
With a groan, he thrust deeper between her lips. She arched up under him, opening wider to admit every thrust of his tongue. The kiss turned hungrier, and Xander ate at her ruthlessly, losing himself inside her mouth. Fuck, he could drown here, forget all his problems. He didn’t need one of Alyssa’s strippers; he needed this girl. Later—much later—he’d figure out why she’d been taking her clothes off on Sexy Sirens’ stage without an audience.
Right now, he just wanted to get inside her in every way he could.
He seized her lips again, sinking down and easing to her side. She turned to him, slinging her thigh over his hip in silent protest. Very soon, he’d take advantage of that. For now, he gently pushed her back to the bed, then turned his attention to the buttons of her blouse. One after the other, he slipped them through their moorings like a hot knife through butter.
In moments, he was prying the fabric apart and tapering off the hot kiss to look down at her. Holy fucking jackpot. Those breasts spilled above the white lace of her bra. They were works of art, round and pale and soft. And so real. Xander couldn’t wait to get his hands on them, his lips. To cup them, graze her nipples with his fingers, and listen to her gasp, then see her eyes flutter closed. He’d tear off that damn bra and suck her nipples until they swelled red.
Through the lace now, he could see they were sweet pink nubs, standing up straight, begging for attention.
“I need that bra gone. And the shirt. Strip them off for me.”
London didn’t move. “Um . . . can we close the blinds first?”
And ruin what he was sure would be one of the best views he’d had in a very long while? “No, belleza. I’m going to be an indulgent lover. I’m going to make sure you come well and often. But no one can see in this window, and I’m not going to let you hide from me.”
She flushed again, pausing to process his words. A bit of panic tightened her face, but she forged on. “I’d be more relaxed if the room was dark.”
He shook his head. “You’d stay buried in your comfort zone and not really surrender everything to me. That’s not how I roll. Blinds open. Take off your blouse, belleza.” He’d work the bra off himself. In fact, that would be fun.
London hesitated. She sat up, watching him with wide eyes, then looked down at herself, frowning. Displeasure crossed her face. Quickly, she laid flat again and wriggled out of the blouse. Xander didn’t like the suspicions careening through his head. London didn’t like her body? Because she was a woman and not a twig? Because she was curvaceous, rather than built like a boy?
Before he could get angry on her behalf, she tossed the blouse aside, then tucked her arms awkwardly behind her, clearly reaching for her bra strap. “This, too?”
He raised a brow at her. Everything about her expression told him that she was fighting her self-consciousness, and he gave her credit for trying. But she was trying to be in control of this situation, and that wouldn’t do.
“On second thought, belleza, that will be my pleasure. I want to unwrap you slowly, at my leisure. For my pleasure.”
London gnawed at her lip, as if that answer bothered her for some reason, then she sighed. “Look, I’m more than a little self-conscious. I’m sure you’ve been with prettier women, and you probably won’t like—”
“You finishing that sentence, so don’t. Stop worrying about what you think I’ll like and give me what I ask for. We’ll get along fine.”
“You’re bossy.”
If she only knew . . . Xander smiled. “It’s not the first time someone’s said that. I doubt very much it will be the last.”
Before she could comment on that and stall again, he laid across her body, edging her legs apart with his own and pressing his throbbing cock against her soft, sweltering pussy. He grabbed her hips and, fully clothed, he pushed up against her with a long groan. Yeah, they’d get naked and busy. He was going to have to exercise patience first and figure out her odd reticence.
Xander captured her mouth again. He’d never get tired of kissing her. She didn’t do it expertly. In fact, he’d guess that she hadn’t been kissed a lot or had endured a string of boyfriends who didn’t worship this lush mouth properly. Either way, he’d rectify that.