Off Her Rockers (Loving All Wrong #3.5) (24 page)

“Of course, it is. Why—eehhfth.”

I let out a surprised, incomprehensible sound as he whipped me around and lifted me up, planted me on the dresser and shoved my thighs apart. “Still wanna suck you.”

My clit pulsed in frantic anticipation. “Xavi, we agre—”

“Said
you
wouldn’t put your mouth on my private parts. Never said anything about me putting my mouth on your private parts.”

I couldn’t help the grin splitting my face in two. “
Private parts
? Really? What are you, four?”

Sinking to his knees, he dragged me to the edge of the dresser, wrapped his arms around my thighs, ripped them wide apart caveman-style, then raised a brow and growled, “Will let my tongue answer that.”

His lips met mine. Down south. And at the first magical swirl of his tongue, I gripped his hair, dropped my head back and moaned in my throat.

Nope. No little boy here. This kind of tongue expertise came only with well-experienced man-sluts.

Phones off, internet disconnected, faces hidden from the world, we spent the entire day locked up in the penthouse. Watching bullshit western movies—Xavier’s favorites—and intermittently masturbating in front of each other like sick perverts.

The day following, we both went to get check-ups. That’s as far as our productivity went, as we came right back to the penthouse and did a repeat of the day before, still unable to do the actual deed until we got our results back.

It didn’t matter. It was nice just being with him again. Hearing his deep laugh rumble through me, furtively checking him out while he was engrossed in his vintage movies. Laying on top of him and listening to his heartbeat.

I missed him
so
much. Having him again rocketed me in the clouds. I felt invincible. Like there was no start or end to the world. Life felt timeless with Xavier. He made me feel like a different person. He made me feel like I was good. In every way. He made me
feel
.

I was half-dozing on his chest when his phone buzzed and he excused himself, strolling right out of the apartment in nothing but his jeans hanging off his hips. I stared at the closing elevator doors, wondering what he was up to.

Five minutes later the elevator pinged him back into the apartment. In his hands was a teetering tower of three hot-pink pastry boxes.

From the thick blanket on the floor in front of my 80-inch flat screen, I pushed up on my elbow and watched him saunter toward me with a half-smile. Carefully, he lowered down beside me on the blanket and set the pastry boxes down between us.

“When did you order pastry?”

He bit one side of his lip and peered at me under his lashes. “When you were doing a number two in the bathroom.”

Mortification colored my cheeks. I pushed his shoulder. “I wasn’t doing a number two!”

Lifting the lid on the top pastry box, he begged to differ, “Babe, you were in there for ‘bout thirty min. Then you took a shower. Even though we both showered less than two hours ago.”

I wanted to crawl under the blanket and die. “What if I was on the phone? Or masturbating? Or playing Candy Crush?”

A short laugh broke from his throat. “Well, if you were on the phone, masturbating, or playing Candy Crush, you were doing it
while
doing a number two.”

I started to sputter another denial, but he cut me off, “Chino, shit scent is shit scent. No matter how much amount of air-refresher you sprayed in there, that scent doesn’t die till it’s already informed everyone else in the house you dropped a dirty one.”

I groaned out, “Oh God,” buried my face in the blanket.

“Don’t be embarrassed, he tried to sooth, but his rumbling laughter defeated the attempt. “I shit, too, you know.”

“But you’re not supposed to know that I…do that?”

“Chino?”

“Hmm?”

“You plan on spending the rest of your life with me?”

I raised my head. “Of course, I do.”

“Spending the rest of your life with me means shitting out your tripe, vomiting out your lungs, and peeing out your weight in front of me.” From the box, he plucked up a delicious smelling, overly cream-filled éclair and moved it to my mouth. “And I’m gonna be doing the same. So get over it.”

“You expect me to take a bite of éclair while talking about, um,
that
?”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged and began directing the delicacy to his mouth, but my hand quickly shot out to stop his, then re-directed it to mine and took a bite.

I moaned as the creamy, chocolaty sweetness melted on my tongue.

“I swear to God,” I appreciatively sighed out, holding onto his hand so I could take another bite, “sometimes éclairs are better than orgasms.”

Xavier frowned, and then scowled at the treat. In the next instant, he yanked his hand with the half-eaten treat away, dumped it back in the box, closed it, and shoved it aside.

I let out a sound of protest and made to reach for the box, but he slapped my hand. “No. From now on, you’re not allowed to taste anything better than an orgasm.”

I blinked at him, wondering if he was serious, when I realized he truly was, I burst out laughing. “You’re jealous of an éclair?”

Ignoring that, he lifted the lid on the second box. Inside, were two fancy plastic containers with melting chocolate cakes.

“Mhhhhhhhhhmm,” I hummed in anticipation.

He unwrapped two plastic forks and we both dug in.

Watching me closely, a forkful of dripping cake heading toward his mouth, Xavier asked, “What about this?”

Fork descending from my mouth, I looked at him. No way was I going to let him take this away from me, so I lied, “Good. But, nah. Not that good.”

The look he gave me told me he didn’t buy it, but at least he wasn’t taking the cake away. We devoured our melting cakes then sucked the remnants off each other’s tongues. Which extended into a fifteen minute kissing session.

The third box had—
yay!—
macaroons. As I picked up the first yellow macaroon and bit into it, I commented through a full mouth, “Dude, you’re like the best boyfriend ever.”

Rocking back on his elbows, not at all interested in the final treat, he licked me off his lips. “I know, right?”

I giggled, so damn happy and giddy I felt like ten again. “Modest much?”

Without words, he watched me for a long moment as I made my way through three more macaroons, ignoring the “Full. No more!” warning my stomach was giving off.

“Wrote a song about you, you know,” he finally said.

“A s
ong
?” I tried to smother a smile. “Not to be mean, but, you cannot sing. Your rendition of
Amnesia
the other night was
horrendous
.”

Xavier—yes Xavier Xander—actually rolled his eyes. “Whatevs. You know you creamed them panties listening to me sing. Don’t lie to yourself.”

Flopping back on the blanket, I let the laughter roll through me. “Okay, mister. Live in denial all you want.” I turned on my side. “So, are you gonna let me hear it?”

“Hmm. Wanna wet your panties again?”

“Oh, Xavi, Xavi,” I leaned up and curled my fingers around the back of his neck, “don’t you know I can cum just by
looking
at you?” I kissed him. He kissed me back. “You affect me in ways I’ve never been before.” Our lips fused again, and this time we got handsy, spurts of arousal getting us worked up. Just as we hit third base, I pulled away and moved back to lying on my side. “Now, are you gonna sing me the song or what?”

He seemed a little uncertain at first, but then he pushed to his feet and padded off to my bedroom. A few minutes later, he returned with the custom-made guitar I’d given him the night I chose him over Davian. He kept it on the top shelf in my closet, I wasn’t sure why.

He lowered down on the blanket once again, sat cross-legged, and began tuning.

Dropping his head and hiding his eyes, he mumbled with soft agony, “Not a love song. Chino. Sorry.”

This sobered me, and my mouth opened but nothing came out. If it wasn’t a love-song, then what kind of song was it? Swallowing, I shifted from my side to supine. If I was going to be lyrically attacked, I might as well take it lying down.

His intro was wild. The Jack White kind of wild. It wasn’t soothing, seducing, or mellow. It was angry, and wild, and goddamn beautiful.

His voice, when it came, was deep, and gruff:

She got a gun-shaped heart

I been ruined from the start

Shoulda whipped her, collared her

Had I been smart

‘Stead I licked her, swallowed her

Gave her every part

Now she owns ‘em all

She done knew I woulda fall

Why don’t you run, boy?

Why don’t you flee?

Why do you chase her?

Should be glad you’re free

Run, boy, run

Love ain’t never taste this bitter

Run, boy, run

That truth you’ll feel it later

She got a bullet-shaped love

Lethal, explosive

All them things I thought were fun

Shoulda never cared,

Wasn’t that the plan?

But, oh, she had me scared

Had to be a man

Too damn weak my heart was

Impacted, imploded

From that bullet-shaped love

That gun-shaped heart

From that bullet-shaped love

That gun-shaped heart

He carried on with extended guitar play, but I’d already turned my face away from him and closed my eyes. Hiding the tear that squeezed from the corner. That’s how he felt about me? Then why was he here? We’d been doing so well sorting out our differences. We’d been back to being Xavina. Why had I gone and opened up my big mouth, asking that he played his stupid song?

I couldn’t be with him knowing this was how he felt. Knowing he believed everything about me brought pain. I couldn’t—

Boy can’t run now

Boy can’t flee

Boy’s in deep now

No chance of being free

Stayin’, yeah, I’m stayin’

Pain ain’t never been this sweet

Staying, yeah, I’m staying

My future I’ve already meet

That
was the real ending to the song. Not the bullet-shaped bullshit. I never waited. I’d already given up. Never gave him the chance to have his last bar.

Slowly, I turned my face to him again. Remorse filled his eyes as he watched me. The defeated expression that settled when he saw my face told me my pain at his lyrics were refulgent, but I was no longer sad, because he said he was staying. In spite of it all…

He was staying.

Setting the guitar aside, he crawled up beside me, locked one of his long, hairy legs around both of mine, and laid his head in my bosom. “I’m sorry, Chino.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t have the will to. The strength.

Instead, I closed my eyes and let the tears slide.