Breathe For Me (For Me 1: Xander)

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

He'd meant it to be only a couple more times. A few sessions in that week to fulfil the fantasies and leave them free to move on. But every night he knocked on her door, thinking up some lame persona to call out as he did.

"Law enforcement. Open up." Cheesy, but it worked.

"Pizza delivery." Even cheesier and a total step back into teen territory.

"Courier." He winced as he said it. Good thing he never took sex too seriously.

"It's your boss. You're in major trouble."That one he liked more than the others, he had a great desk fantasy growing.

And she opened up. Every time. Her eyes lit with laughter--and lust. He was right inside within minutes. A rampant, raw, sex-fest as they indulged in hot, reckless, sometimes ridiculous fantasies. No matter the scenario he invented, the upshot was the same--blistering, brilliant sex. She let him call every shot--bend her, take her where, when, how he wanted. It was like all his Christmases had come at once--his every wish granted by this gorgeous, willing woman.

As a student he'd been a lifeguard in summer break and ski patrol in winter and he'd never been short of female attention. He and the guys had had their pick. But back then, as now, he'd been focused. He'd only played short-term. Some of the girls had really been after the Hughes fortune and mistakenly thought he was a way to access that. Now he had his own fortune. But Miss butter-wouldn't-melt Blue-eyes wasn't interested in any of his past--or seemed to want to know anything more about him. She never questioned him. Never tried to pry.

She really did only want the one thing.

But surely seven nights of screwing them both senseless should have done it?

It hadn't. She was hungry as ever. But she was also as silent as ever in terms of offering up some other scenario for them to fool around with. In terms of telling him what she wanted him to do. Increasingly that bothered him. Because she was a generous lover with a huge need within her.

And his attempt to keep this just physical was already precarious. He wanted more, needed to know more. Curiosity gnawed. Would she ever open up to him--ever tell him about her accident? Or her family?

He found he was leaving work sooner to get to her. Found he was thinking of her even when he was hanging with the guys. And he sure wasn't telling them about her--not while Logan was going through his Internet notoriety nightmare. No, this was just his little secret. But hell, he was so lame-ass he found her on Twitter and followed her with a dummy account. At random, too frequent, moments of the day he pulled out his phone to see if and what she'd posted. Facebook too. Her temporary pop-ups page was open to anyone so she didn't know he was reading like some love-sick pup-or sick stalker dude.

But her posts made him smile.

It was like having a secret life. She'd discovered her hidden nympho identity and, most awesomely, had her own sex genie who took her on magical ride after magical ride. She managed to walk past Brad without blushing, told none of her buddies at work and certainly didn't tell any friends back home. She definitely didn't mention having met a guy when she spoke to her mom. Her people at home would get the wrong idea. This wasn't the 'new relationship' they'd been suggesting she be open to finding. This was her own way of 'moving on'. And after all, it was only fantasy.

But it was Luisa, at the coffee cart who gave her a wink one morning. "Looking like you've got the cream there Chelsea," she teased.

Yeah. The cream. "And you're looking like you got in trouble." Concerned, Chelsea brushed beneath her eye, mirroring the place of the bruise Luisa was sporting.