Page 91 of Game of Love
My heart lifted when the doorbell rang. It was Xander. Pa would have given him a key to my house. I liked it though that he still rang the bell.
I rushed to answer the door before Frankie could get it.
“Jesus woman, you gonna knock me over,” Frankie balked as I dashed ahead of him. Excitement taking me like a kid on Christmas morning eager to open all their gifts. Well tonight I really hoped I got to unwrap mine.
I didn’t answer him. No point, and it was a waste of my breath. I opened the door and there Xander stood. He’d bought a bottle of wine like it really was a dinner invite.A date.
Frankie scuffed when he looked at Xander and saw the wine.
“Okay,wine?” He raised his brows. “And dinner? What the fuck is going on between you two?” he asked playfully.
“Frankie I believe you have now been relieved of your duties,” I informed him, trying to bite back a smile and failing.
He frowned at me. “You Miss Lady, you thank your lucky stars I’m here.” He looked to Xander and smiled. “Although, I think it’s because it’s me why our new friend here risked bringing you wine.”
“Maybe,” Xander replied in that cool, casual way.
“Okay, goodnight Frankie,” I intoned.
He cut me a crude stare. “I can’t even have a bite of food and a glass of wine? He brought the good stuff.”
I laughed. “How about I make you Sunday roast next weekend? Ma’s special.” Anything to get rid of him.
He nodded firmly. “Oh yes. Anything that woman cooked was divine. Okay. I’m gone. Xander, you call me if there’s trouble.”
Xander nodded but his gaze was on me. His gaze never left me as Frankie walked past us and left, closing the door.
As the door clicked shut he set down the bottle of wine on the sideboard and shrugged out of his biker jacket.
The black fitted, long-sleeved t-shirt he wore gave a great show of his perfect frame. Like everything else he wore. Completely designed to show off the masterpiece he was.
That perfect V shape tapering down his washboard abs straight to his waistline, Levi’s hung low on his hips and desire filling his eyes. It was all perfection. Everything and all of him.
He stepped closer to me but I stayed where I was. Not because I didn’t want to go to him. It was that I wanted to savor the moment.
Sometimes you had to stop and watch. Watch it all unfold before you to see it and appreciate it. Like how he reached for me, and like how the world faded away again the minute he touched me.
The bubble from last week recreated itself and passion did the rest.
Passion, my old friend, came back in full force when Xander’s lips met mine.
Unlike the chaste kiss he’d given me earlier, this kiss blazed within seconds of contact.
It started with a spark of desire and ignited into a flame of wild reckless abandon that claimed me.
He rained hungry kisses on my lips and all thoughts of dinner and how the evening was going to play out faded from my mind. It shoved everything to the back of beyond when he picked me up and carried me upstairs to my bedroom.
With my legs wrapped around his waist I continued to kiss him, not holding back for this part.
I was done admiring. Done savoring, ready to indulge in the man who touched me like he wanted every inch of me.
He kissed the clothes off me. Layer by layer they came off. His too.
That shirt of his was the first thing I dragged off. I wanted to touch the tight taut skin of his abs. I wanted to touch him and taste him everywhere, the same way he touched and tasted me.
And I did.
But… just like the last few times I’d been with this man, he managed to paralyze me and capture my will.
