Page 52 of Breaking the Rules
Waverly stowed her phone back in her jacket and backed toward the mouth of the alley slowly at first. She needed to put as much space between them as possible. There was no time for long explanations, even if she owed them. She had to find Petra, and Xavier would only slow her down.
She’d been so close and wasn’t giving up now.
As if he’d read her thoughts, Xavier glanced up. “Waverly.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
She spun away from Xavier and took off at a flat out sprint.
He shouted her name again, but she didn’t hesitate, didn’t slow. She crossed the street heading south. He was after her, but she had a good head start. She dodged through a crowd outside a jazz club and took a hard right into the alley. Music poured out of the back door of another club and mingled with the scents of garlic and tomato sauce from the kitchen door of an Italian place.
She hung a left and found herself on a quieter street. There were apartment buildings here and more cars parked for the night. A bar on the corner poured neon promises of beer brands onto the sidewalk.
“Waverly!”
God, he was gaining. It was her damn shoes, but there was no time to take them off now.
Beyond the bar was a massive stone cathedral and next to it a gated courtyard. She jumped the low fence, her feet hitting the brick of the courtyard, and skirted the fountain. The walls were brick as well. Trees formed an arching canopy creating a pocket of quiet nature in the middle of the city.
He was so close, she could hear him breathing, could feel the rush of his adrenaline as if it was her own. He was closing in, and she was going to lose Petra… and her connection to Dante.
The alley access was gated off as well, but the rear fencing was much higher. She took a running leap, her fingers gripping the top iron bar. It was as far as she got.
He caught her around the waist and dragged her off the fence. When she threw an elbow that connected with his jaw, Xavier forced her up against the brick of the wall next to the gate. “Goddamn it. I said stop!”
He wasn’t gentle when he braceleted her wrists together over her head and held her in place with one hand.
Her breath was coming in shallow pants. She tried to aim a kick at his shins, but he read her like a playbook and shoved his hips against her, pressing her into the wall. “You’re going to get yourself killed,” he growled.
“You’re the one who almost got shot,” she snapped back.
His free hand roamed her body and found the .38 at the small of her back hidden by her cropped leather jacket.
“That’s mine!” She struggled against him and felt him already rock hard.
“You’ll get it back when I decide you deserve it.” She felt his hand moving again. He slid it around the waistband of her skirt and up under the fitted edge of the long line of her crop top.
She felt his fingers pause as they found the small knife in its hidden sheath beneath her breasts, yet still he lingered there, just touching the trembling curves.
His breath was hot against her ear. “Keep your hands on the wall, and if you try to run, I swear to God I’ll break both your legs.”
When she didn’t answer, he tugged her hair. “Do you hear me, Angel? Hands on the wall.”
She took a shuddering breath and nodded. Her brain was shutting down at his touch. She should want to run. She needed to find Petra. But his hands were skimming low over her hips, down the outside of her legs. He was patting her down, looking for weapons after ruining her chances of questioning the only one who might have answers for her. She shouldn’t be turned on.
But as his palms skimmed up her ankles, over the inside of her legs to her knees, she quivered in anticipation. Her heart thrummed in her head, blood pounded through her system. First the chase, and now the seduction. She was caught in his trap and had lost the will to escape.
He brought his hands higher, coasting over the inside of her thighs. Waverly felt him hesitate when she stepped her feet apart, a moment of indecision. She made the choice for him by hinging forward against the wall and pressing her hips back to grind against him.
He growled, and she felt his breath hot on her neck. He was still just barely under control. She took one hand away from the wall to grab his and guided it between her legs.
She felt lightheaded when he pressed his palm against her aching wetness. “Touch me, X.”
Her words freed him from his prison. Xavier gripped the silk of her underwear and yanked, shredding the delicate material. He grinded his hips against her, and she moaned bracing both hands against the wall again.
He slid his fingers over her exposed sex, and she whimpered with pleasure.
“You get off on it, don’t you?” he whispered darkly in her ear. “Running from me, the chase.” He used his fingers to part her tender flesh and gently stroke her where she ached for him.
