“How?”
“I should probably kiss you. Show everyone here how in love we are—including Dixon.”
Where was this jealousy coming from? It began eating away at him from the inside out the moment he saw that fucker’s hands on her. He wasn’t a jealous man.
She swallowed hard. “Okay, if you say so.”
“Brace yourself, sweetheart. I’ll have to do this my way.” He reached down and grabbed one of her ass cheeks, bringing her tight to his body. With his free hand, he cupped behind her head and kissed her hard on the mouth. He expected her to go stiff, to fight him every step of the way. But she melted against him, reaching her arms around his neck as she kissed him back.
The entire world went away. The darkness. The fucked-up memories that kept him up at night.
It was just her.
And the kiss.
When he pulled away, sounds were muted, his vision tunneled. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear he was drugged. How else could he explain his deep-seated claim over Alesha? He’d always been attracted to her, but finding out she’d dragged him to bed, taken care of him, and sat with him all night long, changed everything. No one had ever given a shit about him, not even his own family. He’d been disposable, unwanted, garbage. Being of any importance to another human being … it was addictive.
“I think that worked,” she whispered, touching her mouth.
“Yeah, I think it did.” Was he fucking speechless? What was he doing?
He’d been trying his best to keep aloof since revealing his secrets. He hoped to push her away, make her hate him so they could keep a distant work relationship—one where he didn’t have to kill her. He knew he was pulling at straws. Alesha hadn’t exactly acted how he imagined she would. He didn’t know what the hell she’d do.
Now what?
Could he keep her? He wanted her, wanted to own her. He’d been denied everything in his life until he learned to take what he wanted, regardless of the cost. But it had always been about things—money, power, guns, property. Personal relationships were where he drew the line. He’d been burned too many times, enough to stop caring, to stop feeling.
Alesha would turn out like all the others, like his mother, like the gangbangers who’d taken his innocence. He couldn’t risk being vulnerable, giving his heart to a woman.
But there had been something there, some spark between them when they kissed.
He pulled himself together, taking Alesha’s hand and leading her to the main entrance. Like every other day of his life, he was on guard, taking in his surroundings as they walked through the mingling guests. He trusted no one, and was never naïve enough to think he was safe.
“Are we going home?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I haven’t prepared dinner, and we didn’t stay to eat,” she said.
He waved his hand once outside, requesting his car from one of the valets. “Then I’ll take you out to eat. It’s too late to start cooking, and it would be a shame not to see you in that dress for a couple more hours.”
Her cheeks flushed pink. It looked good on her. He imagined she’d look just like that after fucking her for half the night. Xavier pushed his thoughts away, blaming his raging hard-on on going too long without sex.
They drove toward the city center. He kept replaying the events over in his head, trying to remember all the details for their upcoming lunch. He hoped Boss gave him the all clear to put a bullet in Dixon’s brain. Xavier was already imagining it with vivid detail.
By now, Boss would already have figured out Alesha was his housekeeper. Had he gotten Maurice to hack his surveillance at home? Did he know Xavier got wasted and spilled his guts to a civilian? He hoped that gem was off the radar. When Boss told him to use Alesha to his advantage, he didn’t see a problem using her as bait. He’d be there the whole time and trusted his own abilities. But what if Boss wanted her exterminated after the mission? He wouldn’t be able to follow that order.
“…your family.”
He snapped back into reality, checking the street signs to ground himself. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“You said you don’t have a sister, but what about your parents? Do they live near you?”
He ground his teeth together. Why was he humoring her? Because she meant something to him—even though he wished he could wipe her from memory at this point. Women always complicated shit.
“Let’s not talk about family.”
“Xavier, you promised.” Her voice sounded young, but then again, she was a lot younger than he was. More than a fucking decade. The pleading tone made him feel compelled to obey her.