Wicked Lovers 07 Ours to Love (30 page)

His heart hurt. She’d suffered more than physically. The emotional scars ran deep.
She felt defective and unwanted. Yet she’d gathered the courage to march into his
office and interview for a job. Despite feeing imperfect, she’d given herself utterly
to him and his brother. Her personal courage amazed him. After Francesca’s death,
he’d allowed guilt to stab him over and over until he’d nearly lain down and died
willingly. London had latched onto her fighting spirit until she’d taught herself
to talk and walk, to live and laugh and love again. He was humbled. God, he didn’t
deserve her.

“And now you’re both staring at me like I’m a freak.” She lurched to her feet, swiping
angrily at her tears. “I’ve got to go. I’m sure you’ll replace me in your office and
your bed with someone better.”

Xander stormed after her, but only Javier could reach the doorway in time to block
her path. He didn’t deserve her and he might be bad for her, but he’d be damned if
he was going to prove her theory that no one could love her right. Because he already
did. It was right there in his heart, on the tip of his tongue.

The fact that he loved her bowled him over. Holy fuck, when had that happened? Somewhere
between her crisp sassiness during her job interview and seeing her angry tears at
fate mingling with her strong will to carry on. But he now understood what he’d never
felt for Francesca, this sweet feeling that seemed so potent and abiding. For London,
he’d do anything—lie, kill, steal, die—if it made her happy and whole.

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared her down. It hurt him. He wanted to
hold her desperately, but she would see it as pity and hate him for it. No matter
what it cost him, he had to stay strong for her.

“You’re not leaving. I’m not replacing you in my office or my bed, London. I want
you to hear me very clearly. I want you in that chair.” He pointed toward the assistant’s
chair in the reception area. “And I want you taking my cock every day and night, again
and again. You’re not broken. You’re so beautiful that I sometimes can’t believe my
good fortune.”

Over her shoulder, he glanced at Xander, who stalked toward her, then raised a shaking
hand to her shoulder and turned her until he stared down into her eyes. His brother
met her like a freight train, his body crashing into hers, his arms folding around
her in a silent offer of his strength. For a terrible moment, she pushed at him, thrashing
about to escape.

“I don’t want your pity,” she hurled at him.

“Good.” Xander grabbed handfuls of her hair and yanked, forcing her head back. “Trust
me, it’s not pity I feel. You amaze me.”

“For accomplishing nothing in life?” She screeched.

Her emotions were getting the better of her, and Javier couldn’t stand it another
moment. He blanketed her back, sandwiching her in between him and his brother. He
braced heavy hands on her shoulders. “You’ve had to come further and fight harder
than anyone I know. I could learn from you how to keep putting one foot in front of
the other. In a handful of days, you’ve made me think that maybe vodka isn’t the answer;
persistence is. Just like you, I’ll have good days and bad days. But I’ll have full
days. You refused to rot helplessly in bed. You got up and learned to be productive,
got yourself an education, and started on the path to a full life. Until you, I was
throwing mine away slowly but surely, down the narrow neck of a bottle of Cîroc.”

London began to turn toward him. Xander released her slowly. She blinked up at him,
her wet eyes defiant, as if she dared him to leave her. Even if he wanted to, even
if it would be good for her, Javier knew he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. More and more, he
began to believe that they all belonged together. He’d never imagined sharing a woman
with anyone, much less his brother. He certainly wouldn’t have chosen it long-term.

But in that moment, that’s exactly what he was choosing. His heart had chosen for
him.

“I’m not leaving you. Neither is my brother. Trust us.”

Confusion broke across her delicate face. A furrow marred her pale brows as she shook
her head. “You can have anyone you want. He has.” She pointed at Xander. “I’m—”

“Perfect for me and my brother. I’m done questioning it. How about you, Xander?”

He paused, this moment oddly introspective for him. Finally, he shrugged. “I’ve never
felt this way, and I’m not ready to let what we have go. Somehow . . . this works.”

London hung her head. “You could have better.”

“There’s no such thing, and if you keep up that self-deprecation, I’m going to paddle
your ass black-and-blue.”

She frowned and wrapped her arms around her middle, seeming to curl into herself as
she stepped away. Javier watched her. If she got anywhere near that door, he would
stop her. But if she needed a moment’s space, he would grant her that.

“I’ll do my best to believe you. I’m sorry. It won’t be overnight.”

Frustrating, but understandable. She’d missed years of experiences, of maturing, of
simply living. After that sort of trauma, it was understandable that she’d be cautious.

He nodded and tried to stay away, but he couldn’t not touch her. Slowly, he approached
and wrapped a hand around her arm, drawing her close and kissing the top of her head.
“You scared me today.”

“It’s one of those things I can’t help. With everything that’s happened in the last
twenty-four hours, I forgot my medication.”

Xander flashed her a disapproving glare that Javier was sure was mirrored on his face.
“Unacceptable. From now on, we’ll help remind you.”

“I’m not an invalid,” she shot back to Xander.

“That doesn’t mean we don’t all need help now and then.”

Xander was right, and Javier figured he could learn a lesson from that, too. Fuck,
what an emotional, enlightening day it had been. And it was barely half over.

“Little one, tell me something.” He caressed her cheek. “Why won’t you undress for
us?”

“I’m not going to give you the up close and visual of everything that’s wrong with
me. Consider that my . . . what did you call it? Hard limit. If that’s a problem for
you, then we should all move on.” She picked up her purse again. “If you can deal
with it, good. I’ll be in here planning a launch party that will blow United Velocity’s
away.”

Chapter Fifteen

X
ANDER
watched London walk away and shut the door behind her. They hadn’t hit a hard limit
but a brick fucking wall. On any other woman, one not acting as his submissive, their
private life and feelings were their own. It wasn’t like he ever wanted to get deep
with a woman, except in her pussy.

London changed everything.

“We can’t let that go,” Javier said.

“We can’t,” he agreed. “She’s hiding from us.”

“And herself. We have to help her accept who she is and that she’s beautiful.”

Javier was right, and that meant they had to get a bit more demanding. London would
likely earn punishments before she let them behind her walls. Xander smiled. He was
kind of looking forward to that.

“Yep.”

Javier hesitated. “And we’re in this together? I don’t want you to start something
that you won’t finish.”

He knew what his brother was asking. Xander paused, rechecking his thoughts. But they
were unchanged. He wanted London at his side, between him and Javi. Somehow, she made
their discord fade, made it possible for them to be brothers again. In turn, the budding
woman and submissive needed him and his brother to guide, protect, and care for her.
Every so often, it seemed that
he
actually shed light on her confusion and his brother’s darkness. It was as if someone
needed him for a change. He liked that feeling. A lot.

“Yep. We’re in it together.”

“You can’t play with this girl, Xander. You can’t fuck her a few times, then find
your next slut du jour.” Javier raked a hand through his hair. “If you’re not
all
in, the time to get out is now.”

Xander bristled. What the hell gave Javier the right to question him or tell him how
to run his damn love life? He opened his mouth to tell his older brother to go to
hell when he realized that Javier was protecting London. He wouldn’t do that if he
didn’t care. Which meant that, his brother really did finally give a shit about something
beyond guilt and booze.

And Javier was right. London didn’t know anything about the fast lane, musical beds
sort of life he’d been living for more than a decade. She had given herself totally
to the two of them. They meant
something
to her. As fragile as her self-image was, he couldn’t keep crawling in her pussy,
then deal her the blow of choosing another, “perfect” girl over her later. It could
crush her. And shockingly, that thought of never being with her again nearly dropped
him to his knees.

Dragging in a ragged breath, Xander paced. No doubt, he cared more than a little.
Maybe even more than a lot.

“I’m not getting out,” he vowed.

Javier cocked his head. “Could you really live with her pussy being the last you ever
fuck?”

Xander swallowed. Put like that, the situation sounded damn serious. London’s had
been the sweetest, yes. He hadn’t had the pleasure of indulging since becoming her
first, but the hunger to bind her to his bed and take her in every wicked way known
to man gnawed at him. “I could. Other pussy . . . honestly, I’ve had it in all shapes,
sizes, and colors. Every texture, every flavor, every day. I’ve sowed so many wild
oats, the bucket’s empty, man. I don’t have to wonder what I might be missing out
on. I already had it.”

On the other hand, when he spent time with London and Javier, he felt this little
mental
click
, like puzzle pieces had slid into place. They gave a shit about one another—and him.
They actually seemed to like him as he was. Nothing had ever felt better. Hopeless
romantics had talked about being “complete” for as long as he could remember. He finally
got it.

In fact, Xander got everything. He’d been unconsciously seeking caring and acceptance
in every bed he’d ever been in. He couldn’t manufacture or pretend those feelings.
He couldn’t buy them, sell his soul for them—or fuck his way into them. They were
more precious than diamonds and rarer than the clap at a convent. No way was he going
to destroy what it had taken him a lifetime to find.

But he wasn’t the only one who had to look in the mirror in order to make this work.

“I’m good. What about you?” Xander asked his brother.

“Me? Other women aren’t going to be an issue.”

“No, but vodka is. That’s been your mistress for the last year. We don’t have room
for her in this relationship.”

“That’s not the same thing,” Javier argued.

“Bullshit. You’ve let vodka console you a lot more than I have. London isn’t going
to put up with that shit. And she shouldn’t have to. You can’t shut her out or tell
her to fuck off when she wants to talk to you about your bottle.”

Javier’s lips twitched into a snarl. “You handle your crap, and I’ll deal with mine.
Believe me, I know London is important. Maybe more important than anything else right
now. I want the chance to make her deliriously happy.”

Xander peered at his brother. “Are you thinking of marrying this girl?”

He shrugged. “Marriage didn’t work well for me the first time, but I’m prepared to
admit that I care about her more than I ever did Francesca. I don’t know where that
leaves us, but we’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah.” Xander nodded. “I never thought I’d ever be monogamous, but . . . at this
point I’m not saying never anymore. But she’s bottled up, Javi, and wants to keep
us on the other side of her defenses. I’m not sure she’s looking at us as seriously
as we’re thinking about her.”

Javier sighed like the weight of the world pressed on his shoulders. “I fucking had
no idea she’d been through so much trauma.”

“Me, either.” And didn’t he feel like an asshole for not finding out before now? He’d
taken the most precious onetime gift she could give him, and he’d never asked many
questions about how she’d come to be twenty-five and a virgin. Her explanation made
so much sense, but the thought of her in that much darkness and pain twisted up his
insides.

“We’ll have to tread carefully,” Javier said. “I know we can’t force her trust, but
we have to give her opportunities to see that she can count on us.”

Absolutely
. “Before she erects more walls between us.”

“Fuck. How do we do that?”

Xander grinned. Yeah, this was when being more than a little cunning came in handy.
“Take care of her. Use every opportunity to show her that we care. And on Friday,
pack for an overnight stay. We’ll pull out around three. I’ve got an idea.”

***

THE
days continued to slide by, Wednesday, Thursday . . . until Friday rolled around.
Surprisingly, the rest of the week had been relatively drama-free, just intensely
busy. London hadn’t had much time for self-reflection. Her life had changed so much
in less than a week, but she tossed analyzing that into the “later” category . . .
just as she had calling her curious, concerned cousin.

For now, London quietly put into place all the necessary elements for a launch party
for the Project Recovery prototype one day before United Velocity’s. R & D was screaming
that it would take every available hour to be ready, and Javier had begun to cut off
Sheppard, the head of the department, with a terse “Get it done.” Most of the invitees
would attend over video conference, but for those who could come to the function in
person in DC, she’d booked a secure office facility near the Capitol building. In
light of the suspected information leaks, security would be tight, and Xander had
assisted her with making sure those arrangements were in order. For someone who’d
spent his entire adult life as a playboy, he had a way of buckling down and taking
business very seriously.

Surprisingly, Javier had been far more focused—and sober—over the past few days. Maybe
because they’d all been sharing the office space, and he hadn’t wanted to endure his
brother’s well-meaning rebuke. Without the influence of vodka, he was nothing short
of dynamic. He moved enormous amounts of work that had been sitting for months. The
phones began ringing again, beginning with members of the board. By Friday, it was
evident that Javier being “back” was making waves in the defense-contracting community.
Everyone from the
Wall Street Journal
to
Defense Industry Daily
wanted the scoop. Even the
Los Angeles Times
tried to grab a few minutes of Javier’s time. He accepted some calls, assuring people
that he had something spectacular to unveil in a few short weeks and that he expected
S.I. Industries to be at the top of the heap again by the New Year. Xander picked
up the calls Javier couldn’t, and London had overheard him attributing Javier’s renewed
dedication to both the end of his mourning and his new executive team, including his
dynamo of an assistant. It probably shouldn’t have, but that made her feel mushy and
warm inside.

London sincerely hoped all that was true. Javier might backslide at some point. Not
for one minute did she believe that he had fully dealt with Francesca’s death. But
for now, she liked her new, more productive boss.

He wasn’t just her boss, though. Every day, he and Xander kissed her through coffee
and muffins. Lunch they usually spent naked—sometimes in the office, sometimes in
a nearby motel room. They stopped for a late dinner, often teasing her with whispers
and not-so-innocent touches over multiple courses and a few glasses of wine, before
heading to Javier’s home. They’d hit the bed, and both men would devote hours to coaxing
her submission and giving her pleasure until she finally curled up between them, sore,
exhausted, and smiling. They repeated the cycle all over again the next day. When
she stopped to think about the bubble of thrill her life had become, she couldn’t
stop grinning.

Still, London feared it was all temporary, and she told herself not to get too invested.
Xander would soon want other women. Javier would soon want Cîroc. And she hadn’t budged
an inch about showing them the roadmap of scars crisscrossing her back. It had become
like a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy around the office and bedroom. But every time
she insisted on simply unbuttoning her blouse, rather than taking it off, or wearing
a tank top to bed, she knew they were disappointed. It wasn’t as if she didn’t want
to trust them. Nor did she think they were shallow, but why run the risk of scaring
them off? Hiding was so much safer.

“Shut down your computer, little one. We’re leaving,” Javier announced, briefcase
in hand.

The door to his interior office was shut, the space inside dark. Beside him, Xander
waited. He’d clearly cleaned off the project table they’d dragged into the empty room
for him on the other side of the little reception area. Now, the two of them looked
not only ready to leave, but eager. Xander’s sly grin made her pause.

“It’s only three o’clock.”

“We didn’t ask you for the time,
belleza
,” Xander said. “We asked you to shut down and come with us.”

And they weren’t taking no for an answer. With a little shiver, she turned off her
computer, grabbed her purse, and stood. “Where are we going?”

The two of them cast one another conspiratorial glances, then Xander crossed his arms
over his chest. “It’s a surprise.”

It sounded both thrilling and ominous at once. She had no reason to balk. “Let me
use the restroom and I’ll be ready.”

“When you’re finished, open the door but stay inside.”

Javier’s demands would dampen her panties—if he’d let her wear any. Every time she
tried, he simply tore them off.

Not certain what they were up to, she simply nodded and made her way to the little
industrial bathroom. After taking care of business, she washed her hands, then opened
the door. An instant later, Javier was practically on top of her. Xander awaited,
too, holding a paper sack.

“Face the sink. Good. Bend over and brace your elbows on the counter.”

London paused, and the sweet little ache they constantly kindled with nothing more
than their voices flared to life between her legs again. Slowly, she complied, her
mind racing. What were they up to?

The moment she was in place, they worked together to lift her skirt, rough hands brushing
up her thighs, moving in tandem to reveal her ass and the pussy she’d taken to carefully
shaving each morning. The long shirt she was wearing tucked in should cover her scars,
but she still stiffened a bit.

In the mirror, she met their gazes. Neither could hide the excitement in their glittering
eyes. Xander rustled in the bag, keeping it strategically placed behind her. He withdrew
something, then handed it to Javier, who also removed an object from inside. Xander
handed his mystery item to his brother, who smiled as he caressed her bare ass.

“God, this is one gorgeous backside,” Javier praised, drawing his fingers down the
crevice.

His fingers were slick and slightly cool. Lube. She shuddered. He lingered over her
back entrance. Over the past few days, they’d both been working their fingers and
progressively larger plugs inside her. After that, they usually couldn’t wait to sheath
up and fill her clenching, hungry pussy, riding her to one combustive orgasm after
another. This time, Javier slid a new plug in her ass—definitely larger than the last,
but he didn’t reach for his zipper. Neither did Xander.

London sucked in a breath as Javier eased the plug in, then pulled it halfway free,
only to thrust it deeper than before. He repeated the motion a few times, fucking
her with it, and nerve endings she’d rarely felt roared to hot life. She gasped, clutching
the edge of the counter. She stared at her dilating eyes in the mirror, stunned that
they could turn her inside out so easily.

Behind her, they both moaned before Javier pressed it in completely, seating the base
solidly against her cheeks. Xander reached around her and lazily stroked her clit,
sending her libido into overdrive.

“She’s so wet and ready.” Xander took her by the elbow and helped her stand upright.