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Someone finally chose me, and the feeling is indescribable.
But it doesn’t even compare to me choosing myself.
Because for the first time in my life, I put myself before any guy. I told Xavier that if he wanted us to happen, he had to choose me.
There’s this complicated emotion that is self-love and now I know I’m working toward it every day. Because I did that with Xavier and now, we’re here.
I don’t credit my ultimatum for him coming back. I credit us being apart. Even though it hurt, it helped us grow.
Growing is the ultimate way to figure out who we are separately, so we can be together.
After the trophy ceremony and holding up the gold plate, Xavier doesn’t fail to find me as fast as possible.
He runs up to me, lifting me off the ground.
“You’re a champion, Vio!”
I begin to cry, and I hug him back.
“It doesn’t feel real,” I reply.
“Well, it is and I’m damn sure this is just the beginning.”
I kiss him and it feels so good to be out in the open; everyone knows that he’s mine.
He responds by placing me on the ground.
“Ready to go back to the hotel?” I ask, my eyebrows moving up and down.
He doesn’t quite get what I’m alluding to, but once it registers, he throws me over his shoulder. We pass a bunch of cameras and he covers my butt from prying eyes.
“Your champion is currently occupied!” he yells, practically running to the car.
I’m dying with laughter. He’s a dork.
We make it to the van. He throws me in, scoots in after me, and closes the door. Once privacy engulfs us, Xavier practically pounces.
His lips latch onto mine in hysteria.
The kiss is messy, his hands are in my hair, and I pull him closer to breathe in his scent. I’m lying down at this point as our lips move in sync.
God, I missed him so much. I want to do this for as long as I can with him.
He pulls away from the kiss. “I’ve missed you,” he tells me.
“I’ve missed you too, oh!” His hand goes to the top of my skirt and in seconds his hand reaches into my skirt.
His fingers begin to rub my clit.
“Do you like it when my fingers meet your pussy?” he asks.
“You know I do,” I say my words as little moans leave my lips.
Thank God for a privacy screen because if we didn’t have it, the poor driver would see everything.
“We have ten minutes to get you off before we get to the hotel. Do you want me to make you come?” Xavier asks.
“Yes,” I plead with him; he smirks.
