Breathe for Me (Be for Me 1: Xander) Read online

  She sent him a tart look. “What an ego.”

  “I know. But I’m right.” He knew he was right about her. She wanted back in.

  Chelsea reluctantly followed Xander out of the elevator. In the distance she saw the pool. A bunch of guys stood nearby stripping down—not to trunks, but brief Speedos. Wow. Who knew Speedos could look so good? It was like she’d walked into a Men’s Fitness photo shoot. His running buddies were there and all looked straight at her.

  “Why do I have to be with you for this?” She muttered, not really for him to hear. He’d not wanted her to meet his friends and she’d not wanted to either. It wasn’t part of the deal.

  “Because I want you to,” he answered calmly.

  She shouldn’t feel such a big bubble of pleasure at that. Wasn’t a night with her supposed to be ‘nothing’? She knew he’d said that to fob off his friend, but to a degree it was true. She was his fantasy fuckathon filly—his to ride when he liked. And she liked. An arrangement that wasn’t really real.

  That’s what they’d both wanted. Many people had this kind of thing, right? Sexual partners with whom they were safe but not committed to and not really ‘intimate’ with? And for her who better than a guy like Xander who was both passionate and playful. She didn’t get why he was changing the boundaries now. Why take this out of her apartment?

  She turned as he dropped his bag and whipped off his tee. Well he did have one thing right. She did like to look at him. He winked as his hands went to his belt.

  Yeah.

  She turned away, fighting the heat burning into her cheeks. She just wished they were outside. Even though the basement pool was brilliantly lit and there were plants and greenery to enhance the ‘natural’ feeling of the place, it oppressed her. She stared at the water—forgetting about the men, not hearing their chat and low laughs. It looked deep. Chills pressed into her.

  “Chelsea?”

  She hardly heard him.

  “Breathe.” Bare-chested Xander stood right in front of her, blocking her view of the blue. He framed her face with his hands and brought her close for a kiss.

  He sure kissed her. It was a kiss that offered more than the searing sensuality that always burned when they touched. There was a different kind of heat this time. A gentler warmth as his lips roved over hers, a comfort as his tongue tenderly stroked into the empty cavern of her mouth.

  The cold receded, heat filled the empty spots that had been widening inside. She rose on tiptoe to keep him close. But he drew away, leaving her not just panting, but yearning. He turned away.

  Belatedly she recollected the presence of the other guys. She glanced beyond Xander to them. Yeah, they’d seen that kiss—as if Xander had deliberately branded her as his.

  Except it wasn’t that. He and she both knew he’d been distracting her. He’d aimed to soothe and stop her slide into panic. He knew that about her.

  He knew she was afraid of the water.

  And he’d wanted to help.

  Uneasy, she sat on a chair well back from the pool and tried not to look conspicuous. There were a few other spectators but Chelsea had mastered the art of avoidance—cue phone out and head down. But once the whistle blew and the splashing started she couldn’t help watching the action.

  Waterpolo was a fierce sport—she knew first hand. She knew how fit they had to be to keep treading water like that, how strong to be able to rear up so far out of the water, how adept to catch the ball one handed. They threw ferociously, swam fiercely. Nothing tame about it. But they were laughing as they dragged each other under. They scored quickly, relentlessly, joyously. They were having so much fun it was painful to watch. That’s when she went back to the phone and opened up a book app—she’d read. But she couldn’t concentrate. The shouts, the laughter, the cheers and jeers kept her looking up.

  “You came with Xander?”

  She nearly jumped out of her seat. She hadn’t noticed him walk over and stand beside her, she’d been too busy watching Xander firing the ball from one end of the pool to the other—and land a goal. But Logan—with the cheekbones and fallen angel eyes was right beside her. His expression was kind of fierce and he looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days—even more the fallen angel.

  Well she was not reacting to the double entendre. Not. He probably didn’t even mean it that way. Too childish. But the guy was smiling. A slightly familiar—fully wicked—grin.

  “How do you know him?” she asked without thinking.

  Logan’s gaze sharpened. “We’re cousins.”

  So she hadn’t imagined the similarity. They were related. Only Logan’s hair was jet black compared to Xander’s brown and his ‘edge’ more pointed. She nodded casually but curiosity still bit. “And good friends?”

  “We spent all our teen years together,” he said. “He, me and my brother. Anything more you’re going to have to worm out of him yourself.” Logan sent her another narrow-eyed look. “I’m sure you’ll figure out a way.”

  What more was there? Obviously there was something because she read tension within Logan. The guy was protective of Xander, and somehow saw her as a possible threat? That she could hurt the guy? Didn’t Logan know Xander was all steel?

  Interesting. Maybe even steel had a weakness, even it if it was used to protect and defend… something.

  She glanced over to Xander—her curiosity flaring. He was out of the water and watching her, looking edgier than Logan ever could.

  “Thought you’d decided to stick to legit sports.” He called to Logan, his voice had even more sharpness than his expression.

  “Absolutely.” Logan grinned and walked back towards the pool.

  Chelsea looked at Xander. His expression softened a touch before he turned to dive back into the pool and join his mates.

  Nice to know the lone-wolf had back-up if he needed it. In fact, given the unveiled curious looks she was getting from all the get-fit gang, he seemed to have three guys ready to back him up. But she got the feeling Xander worked things so he never needed it.

  She gave up pretending to read and just watched Xander for the rest of the game. She concentrated on the expressions crossing his face as he played—determination, ruthlessness, satisfaction. After a while she forgot he was even in the water as she wondered about him. What had made him into the strong, fit man he was? Why didn’t he want anything more from a woman than easygoing get-togethers? Was it just that he liked variety or was it something more serious than that?

  When he left to get changed she buried her nose back in her screen. She didn’t want to talk to any of his friends or family. Well she did, but she didn’t want to face their curiosity.

  “What are you reading?” Xander asked as he walked over to her, back in his customary jeans and tee.

  “Nothing much,” she said.

  “Sounds interesting. Should I get a copy?”

  She chuckled. The historical fiction book might as well have been in Swedish for all the sense she’d made of it in the last twenty minutes.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s grab dinner.”

  She stood carefully, giving her leg a little shake to make sure it hadn’t stiffened too much before she attempted to walk. She didn’t want to draw attention by limping more than usual. “You don’t want to go for drinks with your friends?” Wasn’t that the usual drill after guys had played sport together?

  A cheeky half grin appeared on his face. “Do you want to?”

  She shook her head. She wanted to go home alone, with him.

  “Good,” he said, turning to walk to the elevator. “I’m starving.”

  So was she.

  “I have the perfect restaurant,” he added.

  Restaurant? Really? She’d thought he meant get take-out. “I’m not dressed for a restaurant.”

  His gaze travelled down her, the appraisal lasting the entire elevator ride up to the pavement level. “You look good to me.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked as they exited the hotel
. She so wasn’t getting the point.

  “Because you’re new to living in the city and I’m being a nice, friendly neighbor,” he drawled with his easy, incorrigible charm. “But mainly because I want to get in your pants again.”

  He didn’t need to take her to dinner to get her into bed again, and they both knew it. Honestly, she just wanted him to take her home and ravish her like he had the last seven nights. There was no need for niceties. They had the routine now, right?

  His cheeky grin gave way to a chuckle as he guided them along the pavement. “It was a full on game. And I get the feeling I need to replenish my fuel tank. There’s a look on your face suggesting I’m going to need it.”

  “I didn’t think superheroes ran out of energy,” she said softly.

  He paused, swivelling to look at her square on. “You’re that hungry for something else?”

  Well, duh. She looked right back at him.

  But his eyes narrowed and he abruptly turned and walked. “My rules,” he muttered.

  She frowned briefly as she moved to catch up with him—why the irritation?

  The restaurant was French and expensive and he’d clearly made a booking. She shot him a questioning stare as they sat.

  “You want a drink? Some wine?” he asked, looking amused.

  “No thank you, I’m good with water.” She had the feeling she needed all her wits about her tonight. “But don’t let me stop you.”

  “I don’t drink.”

  Okay. She caught the faint tightening around his eyes. There was a reason for that? She held back her curiosity and glanced around the ornate dining room again. “This is a very nice restaurant.”

  “It’s my way of saying thank you,” he said blandly.

  “What for?” she asked pointedly. He’d better not say bedroom favours.

  “For supporting me at polo. I know you didn’t really want to be there.”

  She hesitated, unsure of how to reply. Then a shadow fell over the table. Excellent—saved by the waiter again. She smiled vivaciously and poured over the menu, quizzing the guy about what he thought were the best options. Four minutes later she was handing the menu back to the waiter, when she heard a distant chiming sound. Hell. It was her mobile. She quickly grabbed it from her bag to switch it off but then she saw the screen—three missed calls in the last ten minutes?

  All the same number.

  “Hey Mom.” She pulled an apologetic face at Xander—who was looking even more amused—and then tried to turn away, lowering her voice.

  “You didn’t answer your phone. I was worried.” Yeah, she sounded it.

  “Mom I was fine,” Chelsea smiled brightly so her mother would hear it. “I was just out walking and didn’t hear it ring. My phone was in my bag.”

  “You’re out walking?” Her mother asked. “Isn’t it late?”

  “Not that late. I’m just out for dinner. Having a nice time like you wanted me to, remember? I’m fine Mom. I’ll phone you back first thing tomorrow.” She ended the call and glance at Xander. “Sorry about that. She calls all the time.”

  His brows flashed. “She worries?”

  “Uh huh.” A lot. Chelsea reached for her glass of water and almost knocked it. She almost wished she had, it would end this conversation. But he was watching her closely, like he expected more. “You know mothers.” She shrugged.

  He still didn’t pick up on her ‘topic finisher’ tone. “You’re close.”

  “Yeah.” She shook her head and smiled. “But she worries about me being in the big smoke all by myself and out late at night.”

  “Yeah,” Xander nodded seriously. “My mom’s the same.”

  At that she giggled.

  “What, you don’t believe me?” His eyes twinkled.

  “You seem pretty able to take care of yourself.”

  He sent her a wry look. “Well, I can find food, clothing—”

  “And a bed when you need it,” Chelsea interpolated neatly.

  His grin widened. “But she still worries.”

  Chelsea dropped her gaze and studied the silverware on the table. “Does she want you to settle down?”

  “Hope springs eternal in all mothers, doesn’t it?”

  She grinned. “Yeah. I think so.” She lifted her glass and took a sip of cool water. “You seem pretty close to those guys in your team.”

  “Yeah,” he acknowledged, sitting back as the waiter delivered their meals. “Logan is my cousin. Together with Connor, his brother, we worked as lifeguards in the summer then in ski season we were in rescue patrol. Hunter and Rocco as well. They were great jobs when we were studying—extra hours in the holidays and good pay.”

  So he’d been buddies with all these guys since he was a kid? No wonder they’d eyed her so curiously. Did he not often take a woman to watch their games? “And I bet you scored big time,” she said.

  “We had some fun.” He didn’t deny it. “But actually, all those hours on the beach can get a bit boring.”

  “Surrounded by bikini clad babes?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She took a bite of her chicken and nearly died—so good. “And then you went into security.”

  “Systems and surveillance, property protection, yes.” He lifted his fork too and took a bite.

  “Why? You like cameras?” She teased. “You like watching people?”

  He laughed appreciatively. “I far prefer dealing with someone in the flesh to watching an image.”

  What, so he wasn’t a voyeur? “You watched me by the pool.”

  “You watched me,” he reminded her. “Both of us were waiting for the right moment.” He angled his head and studied her. That hot, intense look that made her sizzle from the inside out. “A moment like now.”

  She met his gaze—read the desire in his eyes. Knew her eyes reflected the same. Distraction time? Yeah, maybe that was a good thing. To keep this as fantasy.

  A wicked smile crossed his face. “Have you ever fantasized about having sex in public?”

  Uh, only in the last second.

  “What about getting off in a restaurant?” he asked, finally going into more detail. “With people sitting all around you.”

  “How would you do that?”

  “Make you come?” He pinned her in place with another look—sharper, hungrier. Gorgeous. “I guess I’d need a longer tablecloth to be able to get on my knees between your legs. So sucking you off isn’t going to happen, sadly.”

  She resisted the urge to rub back and forth on the seat. “You are so cruel.”

  “I could, however, slip a finger into place,” he ignored her interruption and mercilessly continued. “Maybe two. I could rub my thumb on—”

  She clamped her hand over his mouth. Felt him chuckle. Then felt his tongue. Oh the man had skill with his tongue.

  “You’ve stopped breathing again. We’re going to have to do something about this.” He pulled her hand down from his lips and leaned over and kissed her. His teeth nipped her lower lip before he pulled away—far too soon.

  “Oh dear,” he muttered. “The waiter is coming.”

  No, she was the one about to come. “You’re so evil,” she choked.

  He laughed and took every opportunity to touch her through the meal. His leg pressed against hers, he touched her wrists. And he looked at her, as intently and attentively as if he could see all the way into her.

  Getting out of the restaurant and through the cab ride home was almost unbearable.

  As she struggled to unlock her door, his fingers trailed up and down her thigh—not going high enough or hard enough. Pure tantalizing torment.

  As soon as they were in her room he pulled something from his bag.

  “What’s that?” She stared at the package.

  “So suspicious.” He laughed and opened it up.

  “What are you going to do with it?”

  “What do you think?”

  Heat surged. “Where did you get it from? Did you have it already? You have a cupboard full
of sex toys I should know about?”

  “And doesn’t the thought of that turn you on.” He chuckled. “Internet. Courier. These things are easily done.”

  “I don’t want to—”

  “Yes, you do.” He ran the tip of the vibrator across her lips. “You’ve been sheltered your whole life. You’ve never had or done many things. But you’ve dreamed. Fantasized.”

  She loved it when he brought on his fantasy talk. The way his voice dropped—the sound of sex. She licked her lips, letting her tongue touch the very tip of the toy. “So what am I going to do?”

  He tossed the vibrator onto the bed and began to undress her. “You’re naked, of course.” He slipped the dress from her shoulders and she stepped free of it. “And what do you think happens then?” he teased.

  She shook her head, so desperate for the release that was so, so close. “Damn it, Xander.”

  “You’re experimenting.” He laughed, amusement in his eyes at her frustration and pushed her back onto the bed. He peeled her underwear from her skin and spread her legs—letting his fingers tease as wickedly as his words were. Only then he switched on the vibrator and gently rolled it up the inside of each thigh until she arched restlessly.

  “You get caught. You’re lying there with this toy between your legs and you’re about to come and someone walks into the room.”

  “Who?” she whispered.

  “One of your servants. Your favorite.”

  “Of course,” she breathed.

  Xander stepped back and quickly removed his clothes, snapping on a condom before turning back to her. “You’ve seen him often. Admired from afar. Checked out his butt when you thought he wasn’t looking. Not to mention his abs of steel.”

  She chuckled even as she yearned for more of his touch. “Of course.”

  “But of course he’s noticed you looking. But he hasn’t done anything. How can he? You’re the princess—”

  “A princess?”

  “Naturally. And you can’t be touched by one as lowly as him. But when he walks in he sees how wet you are, how excited. How needy.”

  “And what does he do?”

  “You see him. You can’t hide that he’s the one you need. And he says—‘I can show you’.” Xander’s smile deepened. “But I can’t penetrate you.”