Chapter 8

My heart is pounding wildly as I follow Xavier into his living room, my hands still bound behind my back. I have no idea what I’m even doing here. I should’ve told him to let me go, and he would have… so why haven’t I?

Why can’t I ever walk away when it comes to him, even when I know it’s the right thing to do? This is exactly why I’ve just avoided him altogether for so long. Nothing good ever comes from being around him.

“I have a feeling you know this place as well as I do, so make yourself comfortable,” he says, and I rattle my handcuffs, reminding him that I’m still cuffed like some kind of damn criminal. It just makes him laugh, and for a moment, I stare at him. I completely and utterly despise how handsome he looks when he smiles. How dare he have dimples? Dimples are meant for adorable and kind human beings, not this piece of shit.

I throw him my filthiest, deadliest glare, and plop down on his sofa dramatically. “Aw,” he says in response. “Is my little kitten angry? You’re so adorable when you glare at me like that.”

“God, I hate you,” I mutter.

“No, you don’t,” he retorts as he sits down on his marble coffee table, facing me. “You wouldn’t be here if you did.”

“Debatable. I’m quite prone to ill-thought out decisions, hence my current outfit and the handcuffs.”

He leans in and places his index finger under my chin, forcing me to face him. “Perhaps so, but only ever when it pertains to me.”

I look into his dark eyes, wishing I could deny his words. Xavier smirks as his finger glides down my neck, to the strap on my shoulder. “Now, let’s have a chat, shall we?”

“Do you often have to handcuff women just to get them to speak to you?”

He bites back a smile as his index finger glides down my arm, his touch featherlight. He has no idea how fast my heart is beating, how hot his finger feels against my skin. “Only you, Kitten. And that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?” I raise a brow in confusion, and he sighs, our eyes locking. “I’m not dating anyone, Sierra. The fact that you thought that, for even a single second, is fucking insane.”

Pure indignation crashes through me. “I know.” I grit my teeth and tear my eyes off his, reality suddenly sinking in. “You’ve always been crafty with words, but you’ve outdone yourself this time. I know you’re not dating anyone, Xavier.”

He runs a hand through his thick hair and stares at me in confusion. “What am I missing here, Sierra?”

“Mrs. Kingston,” I snap, my heart clenching painfully. “That’s what it said on your alarm system when I broke into your garage. I know you’re married, Xavier.”

He stares at me wide-eyed, like he didn’t think I’d ever find out, and all of a sudden, shame washes over me. What am I doing? The last time he bailed me out, I ended up right here, on his sofa, his lips on mine… How could I have come here again, going along with his stupid games when deep down, I know it’s inappropriate? I told him he isn’t treating Valeria right, but I’m in the wrong too.

“Undo the handcuffs,” I tell him as I rise to my feet, my stomach turning. “I… I just can’t do this anymore. We should go back to our ceasefire, to avoiding each other.”

He stands up and moves behind me, his hands brushing over mine as he does as I asked, and all the while, my heart aches painfully. I pull my hands to my chest the moment the cuffs come undone and walk away from Xavier, but I’ve only taken one single step before he wraps his arms around me from behind, his forearm pressed against my chest and his free hand splaying over my stomach.

“I’m not married,” he says as he pulls me flush against him, his voice low, dangerous. “I’m not seeing anyone, not dating anyone.” His lips brush over my ear, and I take a steadying breath. “Are there any other verbs you’d like me to add in there? I’m not romantically involved with anyone, Sierra.”

I turn in his embrace, our eyes locking. “Tell me again.”

“I’m not married,” he repeats, his tone filled with exasperation. “Seriously, Sierra. Do you truly think so little of me?” He grabs my waist, anger simmering in his eyes as he walks me backwards, until I’m pressed against the wall. “Did you really think I’d wrap your legs around my shoulders like that, kiss your soft skin, tease you?”

We’re both breathing hard, his body heat seeping into my skin as we look into each other’s eyes. “I don’t think of you at all,” I lie.

His eyes flash, and then he leans in, his lips brushing over my ear. “Liar,” he whispers, his breath tickling my skin. A shiver runs down my spine, and Xavier must feel me responding to him, because he laughs, the sound husky and so damn sexy.

I bite down on my lip when he kisses me just below my ear, and I subconsciously tilt my head, allowing him better access. “You think of me all the time, Kitten,” he claims, his teeth grazing over a sensitive part of my neck. “You think of me every time you decide not to attend an event at the very last second, because you’d just found out I’d be there.” His hand wraps into my hair, and he kisses my neck, his touch featherlight. “You think of me each time you pull out of a property auction or retract a development proposal.”

“I don’t,” I whisper, my voice as weak as my resolve.

Xavier chuckles and pulls back to look at me, his gaze affectionate. “Then I’d better make sure I give you something to think about, hmm?”

He cups my face and gently brushes his thumb over my lips, his gaze searching. My heart instantly begins to race, my entire body reacting to the desire in his eyes. When he looks at me that way, all rhyme and reason disappears, leaving me craving the one thing I shouldn’t.

Xavier tilts his head and leans in until his lips are hovering over mine, and my heart thunders in my chest, longing making me lightheaded, desperate. I tilt my hips just a touch, needing to feel more of him, and he groans as his lips crash against mine. I moan when he parts my lips and deepens our kiss instantly, almost like he’s just as aware as I am that this moment won’t last, that it’s a lapse in judgment we’ll soon correct.

Xavier pushes his hips into me before he grabs my waist and lifts me up against the wall, his hands moving to my thighs as my ankles lock behind his back. “Fuck,” he groans, driving his erection into me with the same kind of need I’m feeling. My arms wrap around his neck, and he moans against my mouth when my fingers thread into his hair. “Sierra.” My name is a plea on his lips, a wish, one I can’t help but want to fulfill.

My hands brush over the buttons of his shirt, and I begin to undo them, loving the feel of his skin against my palm. He moans deep in his throat and slides his hands to my ass, squeezing as he rolls his hips. He’s breathing hard, and I smile against his mouth as I slide his shirt off his shoulders, only to startle at the sound of a door slamming.

“Xave!” a female voice calls, and Xavier puts me down in a rush, his eyes wide with panic. He pulls his shirt closed and rushes to button up, every hint of desire replaced by something akin to terror. Before I can even fully process what’s going on, Valeria walks into the living room, an oven dish in her hands.

“I brought you some linguine and—” her voice trails off when she notices me standing in Xavier’s living room, and her eyes go wide as she stumbles back, the oven dish slipping from her hands and shattering into pieces on the floor, coating her feet in pasta.

“Valeria!” Xavier shouts, rushing up to her, his eyes brimming with concern. My heart wrenches when he kneels in front of her and pulls his shirt off to clean her feet with. Neither of them even seems to notice when I walk out of the room, shame and regret crashing through me.