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His fingers dipped inside my core, the warmth of my body, the wetness, welcoming him, beckoning him to go deeper. Exhausted? Please—I vaulted myself up like a feline stretching her muscles after a night of chasing dreams, ready for adventure.
He hooked two fingers inside me, pulsing thrusts that I rocked back into. Just when I brushed the sensation that would send me over the edge, he’d slow down. Teasing me. Making me moan, just like he said he would.
“Xander,” I begged, hanging my head. Arms shaking like a fresh recruit at bootcamp that couldn’t do one more push up. “I need you.”
“Nice try,” he said playfully, doing the exact opposite of what I wanted and pulling from me altogether. “You need me, yes, but there’s something else you need...and if you say it, I’ll give it to you.”
He knew me so well. I’d been twisting, grinding, gasping. So close to oblivion when he pulled me back. I knew it was a part of our game, the give and take, letting him take the lead, but I wanted to come so badly that I was about to tear off his clothes and mount him. “You know what I need. Why do I have to say it? Is that some sort of BDSM thing?”
He rounded to the front, his crotch and raging hard erection eye level. He undid his belt, taunting me as he slowly unzipped his fly. “I don’t need labels. I just like to take charge.”
“Damn it, Xander,” I groaned, steadying myself with one arm and reaching for him with my other hand. I felt the thickness of him and the memory of him inside, stretching me, was driving me insane with want.
He let me stroke him, his handsome face giving away just how badly he needed this too, but he caught my wrist, stopping me. “What do you need?”
“You.”
“That’s sweet, but you’re still not getting off that easy.” He stepped back and pulled off his pants. God, he was freaking sexy. I wanted to lick every part of him. I wanted more than to simply jump his bones. I wanted him to jump mine. I wanted him so close, so deep that we were in that place were words didn’t matter. Where nothing mattered except that bliss.
He pulled out a aluminum square from his pants, tearing open the packet with his teeth. “I want you to tell me you need to come because your words are powerful. I’m pushing this because the Penny I love has desires, fantasies, and urges that are valid. Don’t leave them in the dark. Tell me what you need.”
I looked at my man. My rock. The only man that saw me, challenged me, moved me...and there was nothing I could say that would make him run. I was finally safe.
“I need to come,” I whispered.
Far from a battle cry, but it was good enough for us both. He moved behind me and I arched my back, face down, butt in the air. He guided himself inside me, every inch more filling than the last. He gave me everything, stroking deeper, pushing me further into the clutches of abandon. When I cried out that I was coming, he smoothed his hand over my back like he was telling me it was okay. I let go, just as the fireworks exploded, bliss screeching like my favorite song on repeat. He leaned forward, and let out a shout of his own as his strokes became wild and we both got what we needed. Together.
When I crawled into his arms, it wasn’t for seconds, even though my body was game for more. I just wanted him to hold me.
“I love you,” he murmured, stroking my hair. His love stroked my soul.
I turned my head up to tell him that I was happier than I ever thought was possible, but his eyes were clouded over. I almost asked what was wrong, but I remembered Jenna. His father’s will.
“You free in a couple of hours?” When I nodded solemnly, he leaned in and pressed his lips against my temple. “I need to have a talk with my father.”
Chapter Six: Xander
This time, when I took my girlfriend to the house on the hill, I gave the driver the day off. I needed the time alone with Penny. I needed to do more than preach about facing demons and standing up to assholes. But the drive from the city was filled with surprising silence. I’d expected her to grill me about Jenna. To learn all the mechanisms that put us all on a collision course. The answer would have taken the commute and then some.
My little sister, Marie, came into the world spoiling for a fight. My mother used to tell everyone that we could have been mistaken for twins growing up, whipping out pictures to support her theory when people warily looked back and forth between the scowling six year old and the tiny, red faced tyrant. Marie had inherited my mother’s once honey gold locks and the soft, gentle roundness that my mother had spent the last ten years nipping and tucking away.
I remembered the blonde, Shirley Temple curls and blue-green eyes Marie would bat to get her way, hair ribbons taunting me as she flitted around like a butterfly. She cycled through hobbies and interests like trying on dresses and my father chalked it up to Marie just being Marie. When I wanted to sit out a summer session of Little League and try summer theatre instead, I earned myself a lengthy lecture on responsibility and honoring my commitments.
“Just in case we have the misfortune to run into her, I want to let you know that my sister had something to do with Jenna being at the wedding.”
Penny frowned. “Your sister? I don’t-” Her eyes widened. “Because she wants the company.”
I nodded glumly. “Nothing like family, huh?”
I eased the car to the gate, leaning out the driver’s side to punch in the security code. It was a date that was practically a holiday at the Wade estate: my sister’s birthday.
Before you write me off as some whiny brat who didn’t get enough hugs as a child, or claim that it’s not my sister’s fault that she was my parent’s favorite, you should know that she is literally the antichrist. Whether I wanted to or not, thoughts of my sister always dragged me to the first time I realized something was genuinely wrong with her.
We had a black lab puppy for a few weeks when we were kids. My mother was going through one of her charity phases and fell in love with one of the rescue puppies, and agreed to foster it until a permanent home could be found. One day, I caught Marie in my father’s study. She’d found the old man’s box of cigars and matches, and had arranged the furniture in a semi circle. She wore a cotton candy pink dress, her blonde hair in pigtails. I smelled the sulfur, and my heart nearly burst from my chest when I heard the puppy whimpering. When I heard the hiss as Marie struck the match, I stormed forward, shoved her aside, and scooped the puppy in my arms. I protected it until my dad came home early from his trip and the dog had to go. When I told my parents what she’d done, they barely scolded her. From that day forward, it was war between us.
I gripped the steering wheel as I pulled into the driveway, my mind already weaving conspiracy theories. Was she behind this whole thing? I could see her perched on my father’s bed, spewing all kinds of venom. Offering ‘helpful’ advice.
“Xander?”
