Ice Steam (Loving All Wrong #3) (27 page)

His kisses to her were sweet and romantic, but this kiss, right now, was of a man starved, craving and clawing, a man begging to be let out of his cage, out of his body, desperate and frustrated and enraged all at once.

And that was how I could kiss him without a single jealous thought of Jessica. Because this, what Davian and I had, Jessica would never have. Not this all-consuming passion, this soul-devouring intensity, the burning, rabid, uncontrollable need for each other.

When Davian pulled back to give us time to breathe, he bumped his forehead to mine, breathing sharp and jagged. “I’ve wanted to do that since the second I saw you walking down the sideline with her.”

“You—” I stole another second to catch my breath. “You saw when I came?”

“Of course I did.” His eyes opened and stared down into mine. “The air is different when you’re near, Ally. You were walking with the woman I intend to spend the rest of my life with, yet the woman I
truly
saw, wanted, ached for… was you.”

Rubbing his palm up my bare stomach, he dipped his head and sucked my neck as his hand moved up under my crop-top and squeezed one of my breasts.

My mouth fell open and a whimper tumbled out when he pinched my nipple and bit my neck at the same time.

“Davi…” I gasped out, “I thought…I thought you said this couldn’t—”

“I know, but…” He licked across my collarbone, and sucked at the little dip at my throat. “…the ache won’t go.”

I arched into his hands squeezing, kneading, pinching my breasts. “Choose
me
then.”

His hands left my breasts as he croaked out, “I can’t.” Then he knelt down on the granular ground, swirled his tongue in my navel and began undoing my shorts.

“Davi,
no
, w-we can’t do this here,” I hissed, even as my hips involuntarily thrust outward so he could yank my shorts and underwear down. “His room is right above us.”

He paused, sighed, then peeked up at me under those long lashes. “Just let me eat you out. Just let me see you come. And then I’ll stop, I swear.”

Taking my silence as confirmation, he covered his mouth over my clit, and I sagged back against the rough wall and let him eat me into a quaking orgasm, hands gripping tight in his hair as he lapped up every last drop of my cum.

True to his word, he pulled my underwear and shorts back up before rising to his feet.

“Leave him.”

I stilled for a minute, processing his demand, before asking, “You’re leaving her?”

Disregarding my question, he went on, “I can get you out of the deal with Lion. Go back home and I’ll take care of you. Give you whatever you want.
Anything
you need. Just…leave him.”

“Why?”

“Why the hell do you think?!” he snapped. “And I don’t believe he’s with you for the reasons you think he is.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s hiding shit, Alina.”

“Much like you are?”

Much like I was?

He growled low in his throat and scrubbed his hands down his face. “I don’t like hurting you with Jess, either.”

“So, let me get this straight,” I said, pushing him back a little. “You’re asking me to walk away from someone who actually makes me happy, just so
you
can be happy?” I straightened my crop-top. “You’re asking me to
sacrifice
my happiness, then sit back and watch you marry and find
everlasting
happiness with someone else?”

“Typical of you to twist good intentions into ugly schemes, Ally.”

“No, Davi,” I said, stepping up to him, pushing at his chest. “I see now this has nothing to do with love. This has to do with you getting one up on Xavi. I go away, you win. Because everything is a competition for you, right? You’re so full of yourself, so sure I’m
head-over-heels
for you that all it would take to get me to do what you want, is to whisper a few sweet words and suck on my clit.”

“Come
on
!” he threw his hands up. “You know damn well there’s no
competition
. I
own
you, Ally. Orgasms and screams. Sweat and tears. Body and soul.
All
of you belongs to
me
. You know this, I know this, the rest of Ice Steam knows this. So don’t come with that competition bullshit.”

He glared, inhaled deep, then sighed. “I want you to go because I can’t see you without wanting kiss you. I want you to go because I’m thinking about buying a gun to
shoot that asshole. I want you to go because I’m losing sleep. Knowing you’re here and I can’t be with you drives me
insane
.”

Basically, what I gathered from all that was, I was inconveniencing him. And I wasn’t worth the risk of him facing jail time, dark circles under his eyes, or his engagement falling to pieces. Therefore, I needed to go. And he was willing to
pay
me to go. To disappear.

I sucked in a deep, long breath, exhaled steadily, opened and closed my fingers, then chose. “You’re right. You own me. In ways Xavier never will. It honestly makes no sense stringing him along.”

Davian closed the gap between us, circling his arms around my waist. “You’ll leave him?”

I reached up and scraped my nails over the dark stubbles on his jaw. “Yes.”

I
t was his scent that woke me.

A rich, earthy scent I’d grown obsessed with.

Or maybe it was his heat. A head-to-toe heat only
his
blessed proportions could provide.

No, I think it was the stubbles from his angular jaw scratching my bare shoulders, or quite possibly his contented exhales caressing my skin.

Biting my lip, I flipped over to face him.

Cautious eyes searched mine.

Using two fingers, I smoothed out the anxious creases between his brows.

He captured said two fingers and pressed them to his lips, kissing them. “Thought you left…me. After…” He shook his head, as if besides himself. “Thought I blew it, Chino. Thought I blew it with you for good this time.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Xavier.” I offered him a censorious quirk of my eyebrow as I added, “Yes, you do need to work on being a bit more tactful with me in public, but…I’m
yours
.”

Slipping a hand under the covers, he cruised his palm up between my naked thighs. “Used to chicks with soft curves, you know?” he explained. “But you, you’re all muscle. Hard to bend. Can’t control. Too powerful for me.” His hand, reaching its destination, cupped me. “You do my head in, Chino.”

“So, you prefer someone you can bend easily? Control?”

Noncommittal, the corners of his mouth dipped. “Would definitely mean less headaches.”

“There is an upside to headaches, you know.”

“
Up
side?”

Flipping the covers off us, I pressed my hands to his chest and urged him onto his back, then leisurely kissed down, and even further down, until I got to his baseball bat. Long since hard and waiting for me.

Fisting his length, I looked up at him and sultrily drawled, “Headache is
the
ultimate excuse for getting a dick-shine.”

As he dropped his head back on the pillows and exhaled a pleasure-filled sigh, his fingers curled into my hair while I sucked his headache away.

Here’s the thing, Davian’s demand that I leave Xavier to appease him, was, in my view, equal to Xavier’s jealous/possessive display at the gymnasium earlier.

Sure, I was in love with Davian, and it was true, the man owned me. But not so completely that I’d be stupid enough to leave Xavier while he flat-out, pointblank, no apologies, refused to leave Jessica for me.

Maybe the Alina O’Hara pre-Jacob would have been jumping at anything he requested to please him. But post-Jacob Alina was a stronger, more sensible
woman
.

I couldn’t ignore the fact that each time I saw, touched, or kissed Xavier, I felt a little bit more than sexual attraction for him. I honest-to-God liked the man.

Saskia would comment that I was stringing him along, but that was far from what it was. I realized, only hours ago, that I wanted Xavier just as much as I wanted Davian.

It was
greed
. One too big to feed.

Every time Xavier placed his lips to mine, I fell a little bit deeper. And I knew when the time came, leaving him was going to be hard.

Back in the cave when I’d responded “
Yes
” to Davian’s posed question, “
You’ll leave him?
”, he didn’t realize it, but the ‘him’ in that question had meant
him
, Davian Hamilton.

Not Xavier.

I’d decided, as I headed up to Beach Rock, stripped and took a bath, that there’d be no more stolen moments with Davian. I couldn’t be his anymore, I needed to be Xavier’s, because Xavier wanted all of me, and Davian wanted me to “go back home”—he wanted
none
of me.

So, I’d climbed naked into Xavier’s bed, under his soft, silk sheets, relaxed and waited for his return, prepared to fight for him if he brought a groupie home.

No questions about it, Davian still held the main piece. But if he wanted me, he knew what the score was: Leave Jessica, have me.

Then, and only then, would he ever get to know the truth about Jacob.

In the interim, I was exclusively Xavier Xander’s.

I was up at the peak of sunrise, well-rested with a raging lust for life.

It was around 2am when Xavier came in last night, and I’d been asleep hours before that, flagged. An after-party had followed the charity game, lots of little contests and bets to raise more cash for the foundation, he’d informed me. My body was hot and writhing for some early morning loving, but I knew he had to be wiped, so for once, I chose the unselfish route and grabbed a pillow, pressed it over my face, and masturbated as quietly as I could to find some release.

Careful not to wake him, I slipped out of bed, had a steaming shower, got dressed in tank and sweats, and snuck out of the room.

I started down the hall and hit the brakes outside Tex’s bedroom door, which was wide open. He was butt-naked, tattoos in places tattoos should
never
be, lying prone, face planted in a pillow. A new Saskia lookalike sprawled out next to him, snoring embarrassingly piggish for a woman, legs spread eagled with her bare snatch out in the breeze.

Shaking my head at the scene, I grasped the handle and pulled his door shut.

Goddamn rock stars
.

Save for the waves of the sea crashing on the rocks outside, the house was peacefully quiet.

Judging by the scene in Tex’s room, everyone—except Xavier—had to have been piss drunk last night, and would no doubt be waking up with terrible hangovers, so I decided to prepare a greasy hangover breakfast.

Hours later, the kitchen island was covered with plates of scrambled eggs, bacons, pancakes, fried tomatoes, toasts, sausages, fried potatoes, warm croissants, muffins, and a large fruit platter.

There had been
nada
in their pantry. Zilch. And the fridge held nothing except a slice of leftover pizza, a bottle of spoiled milk, and a six pack of Budweiser.

I’d been stumped for a moment, unable to fathom how a mansion with five wealthy inhabitants could live with a barren fridge and pantry. These men were a lousy set.

So I wrote up an incredibly long grocery list and left with Mel to do some wholesale shopping, buying things by the bulk to stock the pantry.

No one was up when we got back. Even as we hauled boxes of groceries in, clinging and clanging and rustling around, not a soul woke.

I started on breakfast as soon as Mel dismissed herself. And it was over three hours later, while I was blending a green smoothie for myself, that Mark came hobbling into the kitchen on his sprained ankle.

He plopped down on a stool along the long kitchen island, blinked in amazement at the food, then gave me a thumbs up. Picking up a piece of fried potato, he tossed it in his mouth and hummed. “You’re an angel.”

Two short minutes after that, Tex stumbled in. “Who the shit’s running a blender this early in the morning?!” He had a sheet draped around him now, and knowing there was nothing at all underneath that sheet had me averting my gaze from him.