Page 128 of Cara
Mortified, I shut him out, eyes widening. “Xavier,don’t.”
With a knowing smirk, visibly aroused by the eroticism of this, his hand caresses the inside of my thigh, coaxing them open again so he can clean me off. Even the slightest touch of the tissue makes me flinch, moaning through the dull ache.
Xavier stands, tossing it into the waste bin before returning to the bed. He climbs over me, kissing every place available to him with no real motive before he levels himself onto me with a contented sigh. His cheek warms my stomach while he cradles my hips. And when my hands slip into his hair, my fingers brushing through those wild curls, he sighs, pressing a kiss to my navel. “How many times was that for you?”
I grin. “I’m not going to be able to move tomorrow.”
He hums appreciatively when my fingers graze his heated cheeks. “After that shitty gala, you deserve a day of rest.”
“Was it a success?”
“We’re alive,” he admits with a hint of amusement. “I’d say yes.”
“There was a chance for the alternative?”
His answer is surprisingly somber. “You know the answer to that.”
It’s not what I want to hear, but I accept it with a nod, returning my gaze to the ceiling, forced to think about Strata’sempty seat tonight, a surprising no-show, and what that might mean. Maybe his absence is a sign of discord, a lack of preparation.
Maybe he is planning something else… with my father.
Xavier rests his hand on my stomach, leaning his chin on it. Looking at him makes the unsettling thoughts in my head subside. He gazes at me, words clearly on the tip of his tongue. It’s then we hear the front door of the estate slam open, rowdy voices spilling into the foyer, calling out for us.
Dante bellows from the stairs. “We brought take-out!”
Mimi giggles. “Come down, you animals! Look! There’s clothes everywhere?—”
Xavier barely has time to drape a sheet over me before the footsteps from down the hall reveal Bo with an armful of clothing.Ourclothing. Xavier shifts, blocking me from his view. “What the fuck?”
Bo tosses the heap of clothes into the bedroom. “Rosa and Caesar arrived when we did. They’redownstairs.”
Our savior isn’t even out of the door before I leap out of bed and rush into the closet. Still reeling from hours under my husband, my hands hesitate on the band t-shirt I’m considering.Is a dress better suited for this moment?
As I swipe through the hangers, I grimace at my options. A tattooed arm extends over my shoulder, taking the t-shirt I had initially chosen, dropping it into my hands. I look up to find Xavier smirking, already dressed.
“Don’t overthink it, Soph.”
After catching a glimpse of my disheveled appearance in the mirror, I can’t help but say, “It matters what she thinks of me. She’s Isabella’s mom. She was always really done up.”
“And who cares if she is?” He pulls me close, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “It’s not you. Show her who you are, and she’ll love you… just like we all do.”
“She sufferedbecause of me.”
“No, she suffered because ofme, Sophie. Because I didn’t love her when I went to her. She and I convinced ourselves that we could defy what we knew was inevitable. She wanted to experience a man of her choosing, and I wanted to enter my new marriage with a hardened heart.”
“She fell in love with you.”
“And I stayed the same,” he says. “When I saw you in her eyes, I already knew I was fucked.”
“Does she still love you?”
“I think she loves how she felt when she made a decision for herself that her father didn’t force on her. I'm tied to that feeling.”
He nudges my cheek with a kiss when I nod, understanding what he means all too well. It seems she and I are both rebels.
Pulling my messy hair into a side braid, I leave the closet wearing jeans and a T-shirt. After washing our lipstick-stained faces in the sink, struck by fits of uncontrolled laughter, Xavier leads me through his enormous childhood home.
With a steady hand in mine, he presents me to the room full of our friends, who hoot and holler in celebration of our successful night, surrounded by a table of half-eaten food.
