Page 157 of Pervade London
“What happened, Em?”
“She came into my bedroom,” admitted James. “She got turned around.”
Xavier arched a curious brow.
James let out a sigh. “I was going to tell you.”
His chin raised in suspicion. “Confess your sins.”
“Don’t,” snapped James.
“I gave you permission to finger-fuck at will.” Xavier glared at him. “That’s it.”
My breath left me, and I looked from one man to the other, struck silent by the tension coming alive, turning into something more between them.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Xavier smirked. “Guilty.”
James sipped his coffee. “No need to be jealous.”
Jealous of whom, though? My thoughts raged with this question.
James reassured him. “It was quick and unimaginative.”
With wide eyes, my mind contradicted this as the scene played out in my memory of that beautiful man in the shower, all ripped and gorgeous and coming in his clenched fist.
Xavier caught every flicker of an eyelid, every dilation of a pupil, every quirk of a lip.
“I shouldn’t have followed him in there,” I stuttered. “His bathroom.”
“That’s why we’re in this place,” Xavier soothed. “To bond.”
“I just looked.”
“At what?” He furrowed his brow. “What scared you?”
James pushed his plate away. “I pointed my gun at her.”
Xavier flinched. “You pointed your fucking Glock at my girlfriend?”
“Obviously, I didn’t know it was her.”
Anger blazed in Xavier’s eyes. “Be. More. Careful.”
James took a swig of his coffee, dragging out the tension.
“And after that you did something sexual?” snapped Xavier. “Seriously? While she was feeling vulnerable?”
“Stop judging me.”
“Let me clarify what I’m picking up,” snapped Xavier. “To make up for almost shooting Em, you displayed your dick in the shower?”
“Yes, I shower naked.”
Xavier blinked at him. “You jerked off in front her.” It wasn’t a question.
Jesus, how did he do that?
