Page 99 of Crossing the Line
On a low, thready cry, Waverly surrendered to the orgasm as it punched through her. It built from her toes and sang through her cells, and Xavier was there with her. His half-shout of triumph was muffled by the breast he worshipped. His hips thrust and froze in jerky shudders as he emptied his release into her. She felt him come explosively into her depths and cradled him against her as her body answered his, every wave of carnal fulfillment echoing the other’s.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
They both nearly drowned. And neither one cared. But when the water made the shift from tepid to downright cold, Xavier finally roused himself. He lifted Waverly out of the tub and patted every inch of her dry with one of the fluffy white towels stacked neatly on the shelf between vanities.
He took another for himself and briskly sluiced off the water before wrapping his arms around Waverly again.
“I’m never going to look at a bathtub the same way again,” she said into his chest.
Xavier smiled, his lips grazing the top of her head. “It’s my goal to ruin you for all other tubs.”
“Consider your goal achieved,” Waverly smirked. “I don’t suppose you could try to find a way to ruin dinner for me, too?”
“Hungry?”
“I may waste away to nothing before your very eyes,” she warned him.
“Well, we can’t have that.”
He wrapped her in one of the plush robes he found in the closet and led her into the bedroom. There he pulled on his rumpled, damp clothing before dropping a kiss on her mouth. “Give me ten minutes.”
Nine minutes later he returned to the room, shopping bags in hand. He felt a split second of panic when he realized she wasn’t in the bedroom or bath, but panic turned to relief when he spotted her through the terrace door. Still in her robe, she was perched on a chair next to the table, her chin resting dreamily on her hand. Her hair had begun to dry in a riot of waves. She had the faintest smile of feminine satisfaction played across her lips as she stared into the Mykonos night.
He wished he could paint. He wanted to capture that moment on a canvas with paints as vibrant as the woman herself. But an artist he was not, so he settled for committing the moment to memory.
Drawn to her, as he had been since the first time, Xavier went to the terrace doorway.
She heard him approach, and that soft hint of a smile turned into the full wattage. The kind that reached her eyes and filled them with light. The kind of smile that made his heart turn over in his chest.
He held up the paper bag in his left hand. “Lobster spaghetti with garlic bread.”
She made a noise that was uncomfortably close to how she sounded when he was inside of her, and he snatched the bag back as she reached for it. “That was close to your orgasm noise,” he said with a mock frown.
Waverly wiggled her fingers toward the bag he dangled above her. “That was foodgasm, totally different from an orgasm. Now hand it over, and I won’t hurt you.”
He did as he was told, and while she unpacked the bag, he shucked off his damp clothes and traded them for the other robe in the closet.
“Nearly naked al fresco dining on a Greek island with a beautiful woman,” he said, sinking down on the chair opposite her. “A man could get used to this.”
Waverly took the first bite of her spaghetti, piling it high on warm, fresh garlic bread. “Oh. My. God. I love you.”
His eyebrows shot up, and she laughed. “Spaghetti. I was talking to the spaghetti.”
Xavier sampled a bite from his own plate and sighed in appreciation. “Okay, that is definitely not an overreaction. I think I’m in love with this spaghetti, too.”
Waverly laughed and opened the bottle of Pellegrino she’d found in the bag. “Have you ever been in love before? With an actual person, I mean.”
Xavier raised his gaze to her face. “I suppose I thought I was, once or twice.”
“Is there a difference between thinking you are and actually being in love?”
He nodded. “I hope so. I’ve never had what my parents have with anyone. That’s love. A partnership built on acceptance and appreciation and patience. That’s what I hope to find someday.”
“I’ve never been in love. I think it’s impossible to fall in love in my world, you know? Everyone is always playing the game to get what they want. It’s just not possible to fall in love in the game.” She daintily wiped her lips with a paper napkin. “Want to hear a confession?”
“Almost as much as I want another piece of garlic bread.”
She tossed him another piece of bread. “I’ve actually never told anyone that I loved them.”
