Page 75 of Breaking the Rules
Marisol certainly had faith in Xavier’s ability to get into my bed, Waverly thought when she’d spotted the six-pack in the fridge.
After their shower, he’d changed into jeans and a worn t-shirt. His feet were bare, and his hair had dried with a little curl to it. He looked gorgeous and a little sad.
Waverly went to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He hesitated for just a moment, and it told her he was still at least a little mad.
“Chelsea’s flying in in the morning,” he told her.
Waverly pulled back and looked up at him. “Is everything okay with you two?”
“No,” he sighed. “But it will be.”
Waverly handed him his plate and his beer and led the way to the couch by the fireplace.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Thought you could use some dinner,” she told him. They settled against the overstuffed cushions and ate in silence for a few minutes.
“What is it with the women I love being hell bent on seeking out danger?” he asked finally.
“Maybe it’s because we know you’ll always have our backs,” Waverly said, twirling her fork into the pasta.
She felt the weight of his gaze on her but focused on her plate. He said nothing, but he did run his hand down from her neck to her back in a light stroke. She could feel it in the air—a shift between them—and wondered if he felt it, too.
That night, long after the dinner dishes were cleared and lights turned off, Waverly showed Xavier what it was like to have someone look out for him for a change. When she knelt between his legs on the wide expanse of her bed, when his hands fisted in the sheets, when he bowed up from the mattress, abs rippling, her name a shout from his throat, only then did he lose the hurt.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Waverly tagged along with Xavier to meet Chelsea’s flight to keep the family bloodshed to a minimum. Xavier had sent the jet for her, and given the sensitive nature of her visit, they were picking her up at Van Nuys Airport, a small airport half an hour northeast of Waverly’s Calabasas home.
Burke drove a sleek, new Cadillac Escalade that Waverly assumed had replaced the totaled Tahoe. She sat next to Xavier in the backseat, his arm anchoring her to his side, and she didn’t even pretend to fight it. They’d made love again before dawn broke in the hours before they would be consumed with what lay ahead.
And for a time, their world was just the two of them. Waverly found herself reluctant to give that up, yet. They rode in silence, his hand stroking her arm. And when she rested her palm on his thigh, he leaned in to nuzzle her face.
“You might want to be careful,” he warned her with a whisper of lips against her ear.
She looked down at his lap at the growing evidence of his interest.
“You’re insatiable,” she whispered back.
He pulled her hand off his leg and cupped it to his erection. “As if you’re not soaking wet right now, Angel.”
Her fingers tightened around his shaft through his navy trousers, and he gave a soft grunt of approval. He let her play for a moment before pulling away. When she pouted, he flicked her lower lip.
“We’ll be there in a minute. I can’t meet my sister with a raging hard-on, now can I?”
“Let’s find out,” Waverly suggested.
He playfully pushed her across the leather to the far side of the bench seat. “Stay,” he ordered.
Minutes later, Burke brought the Escalade to a stop on the tarmac near a sleek private jet. Chelsea Saint emerged from the plane onto the stairs, her thick dark hair blowing in the breeze. Xavier pushed the SUV’s rear door open and beckoned for her.
Paparazzi were less aggressive at Van Nuys, but there were still a few photographers hanging around the fence hoping for a glimpse of fame.
Burke loaded her bags in the back while Chelsea propelled herself into the backseat wrapping Xavier and Waverly in a double hug.
She gave Xavier a smacking kiss on the cheek, “I hope you’re not super mad at me because I’m so excited that I can show off my mad skills for you now.”
Before he could respond, she was giving Waverly a loud kiss. “And I am so glad we get to hang out even though it’s work-related.”
