Chapter 2

Rosewood

Xavier’s black car pulled up in front of my building at exactly five.

I had been standing by the window for twenty minutes, watching the street like a coward. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I wiped them on my jeans for the third time and forced myself to walk outside.

He didn’t get out. He just unlocked the door. I slid into the passenger seat and shut it harder than I meant to.

The car smelled expensive. Leather and something dark, like cedar. Xavier kept his eyes on the road as he pulled into traffic.

“You came,” he said.

“I said I would.”

“A lot of people say things.”

I turned my head and looked at him. His jaw was tight. One hand rested on the gear shift, the other on the wheel. He drove the same way he spoke. Controlled. No wasted movement.

“How are you so calm?” I asked.

“I’m not.”

That was the only answer he gave me for the next ten minutes. The city lights blurred past the window. My phone buzzed once in my bag. I didn’t check it. I already knew it was Nathan. He had texted twice earlier, still pretending to be in Chicago.

Xavier finally spoke again. “When we get there, we stay out of sight. I already paid two of the staff to let us through the service entrance. We watch. We confirm. Then we leave.”

“And after that?”

He glanced at me for half a second. “After that, you decide if you still want to do this.”

I laughed under my breath. It sounded ugly. “I already decided.”

“Saying it and meaning it are different.”

I didn’t answer. I stared out the window instead. My reflection looked pale and strange. Like someone else was wearing my face.

Rosewood Resort sat on the edge of the city, all glass and warm light. It looked soft from a distance. Up close it felt cold. Xavier drove past the main entrance and turned into a narrow service road behind the building. Two men in black uniforms were already waiting. One of them opened the back gate without a word. Money had clearly changed hands.

We walked through a long concrete hallway that smelled like cleaning solution. My heels clicked too loudly. Xavier’s hand brushed the small of my back once, steadying me when I almost tripped. The touch was brief, but it burned.

The staff member led us up a narrow staircase and opened a door that spilled us into a dark garden. Thick trees. Soft lights. The east wing of the resort rose in front of us like a private fortress.

“They’re in the corner suite,” the man whispered.

“Balcony faces this side. Stay low.”

Then he disappeared.

Xavier and I moved along the tree line. My heart was slamming so hard I felt sick. Part of me still hoped we would find nothing. Part of me already knew better.

We stopped behind a wide oak. The balcony was maybe thirty feet away. Warm light spilled out through open glass doors. Curtains moved in the evening breeze.

And then I saw them.

Nathan stood with his back against the railing, shirt half unbuttoned. Lila was pressed against him, laughing softly at something he said. Her hands were on his chest. His hands were on her waist, thumbs sliding under the hem of her silk robe.

Eight months of lies collapsed into one clear picture.

Nathan lowered his head and kissed her. Not the polite kiss he gave me at the door. This was deep and hungry. The kind of kiss that said he had been waiting all day for it. Lila melted into him like she belonged there.

My knees went weak. Xavier’s hand closed around my wrist, holding me steady.

“Breathe,” he murmured.

I couldn’t. My lungs felt too small.

Nathan pulled back just enough to say something against her mouth. Lila smiled and nodded. Then she took his hand and led him inside. The curtains swayed shut behind them, but not all the way. I could still see shapes moving. Bodies. The soft drop of the robe.

Something inside my chest cracked open.

I turned away first. Xavier didn’t try to stop me. He just followed as I walked back toward the service door on unsteady legs. The same staff member was waiting. He looked at our faces and wisely said nothing.

We didn’t speak until we were back in the car.

Xavier started the engine but didn’t drive. The silence stretched until I thought I might scream.

“I want to do it,” I said. My voice sounded flat. Empty. “The bargain. Tonight.”

He turned his head slowly. “You’re sure?”

“I just watched my husband put his tongue in my best friend’s mouth. Yes. I’m sure.”

Xavier studied me for a long moment. Whatever he saw must have convinced him. He put the car in gear and pulled out of the service road.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“My place.”

“Not a hotel?”

“No.” His voice left no room for argument. “Hotels are for people who plan to leave in the morning. You’re not leaving in the morning.”

Heat crawled up my neck. I should have been scared. Or disgusted. Or anything except the sharp, ugly thrill that cut through the pain.

The drive to his building took twenty minutes. He lived in one of those glass towers that looked down on the rest of the city like it owned it. The elevator ride to the top floor was silent. I stared at our reflections in the mirrored wall. We looked like strangers. A tall man in a black shirt and a woman who had cried off most of her makeup.

His penthouse was all dark wood and floor-to-ceiling windows. Minimal. Expensive. Cold.

Xavier tossed his keys on a side table and walked straight to the bar. He poured two glasses of something amber and handed one to me.

“Drink.”

I did. It burned all the way down.

He set his own glass down without tasting it. Then he stepped closer. Close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.

“Last chance to walk out,” he said.

“I’m not walking out.”

“Once I touch you, Aria, the rules change. This stops being about them. It becomes about what I want. And I want a lot.”

My pulse jumped. “Then take it.”

Something dark flashed across his face. He reached up and wrapped his hand around the side of my neck. His thumb rested against my throat, feeling the frantic beat there.

“Say it clearly.”

“I want this,” I whispered. “I want you to help me hurt them. I want—”

He kissed me.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was angry and deep and claiming. His mouth opened mine without asking. His other hand gripped my waist and pulled me hard against him. I could feel every solid line of his body. The heat of him. The controlled strength.

I kissed him back like I was drowning.

Xavier walked me backward until my shoulders hit the wall. He pinned me there with his hips and kept kissing me until my head spun. When he finally pulled back, my lips felt swollen.

“Still sure?” he asked, voice rough.

“Yes.”

He reached down and grabbed the hem of my blouse. In one smooth motion he pulled it over my head and tossed it aside. His eyes dropped to the black lace bra I had worn like armor. Something hungry settled in his expression.

“Pretty,” he muttered. Then he lowered his head and bit the soft skin just above the cup.

I gasped. My hands flew to his shoulders.

He didn’t stop. He dragged his mouth across my collarbone, my throat, the top of my breasts, leaving small stinging marks that would show later. When he finally unclasped the bra and let it fall, the cool air hit my skin a second before his mouth did.

I arched against the wall.

Xavier sucked one nipple hard enough to make my knees buckle. His hand came up to torment the other, pinching and rolling until I was making helpless sounds against his hair. He switched sides without mercy. By the time he lifted his head, I was shaking.

“Xavier—”

“Quiet.” He kissed me again, slower this time, like he had all night to ruin me. “You’re going to take what I give you tonight. Every bit of it. And when you go home to him tomorrow, you’re going to feel me with every step.”

The words should have disgusted me. Instead they sent a dark pulse of heat straight between my legs.

He spun me around so my chest pressed to the wall. His hands slid down my sides, over my hips, and unbuttoned my jeans. He dragged them down along with my panties in one rough motion. I stepped out of them on unsteady legs. Completely bare while he remained fully dressed.

Xavier’s hand slid between my thighs from behind. He groaned low when he felt how wet I already was.

“Damn. You’re soaked.”

I closed my eyes, mortified and turned on in equal measure.

He stroked me slowly, spreading the wetness, teasing my clit with light circles that made my hips push back against his hand. Two fingers slid inside me without warning. I cried out. He pumped them deep and steady, curling against a spot that made my vision blur.

“That’s it,” he murmured against my ear. “Ride my hand. Show me how badly you need this.”

I did. Shamelessly. My forehead pressed to the wall as I moved against his fingers. The wet sound of it filled the quiet apartment. Embarrassment burned my cheeks, but I couldn’t stop.

Xavier pulled his fingers out right when I started to tighten around them. I made a broken sound of protest.

He turned me around again and lifted me. My legs wrapped around his waist on instinct. He carried me to the long black couch and laid me down. Then he stood and stripped with efficient movements. Shirt first. Then belt. Pants. Everything.

I stared.

Xavier Kane was built like a man who earned his body through discipline. Broad chest. Hard stomach. Thick cock already hard and heavy against his abdomen. A thin scar cut across his right knuckles, just like I remembered from the outline of him in my mind.

He knelt between my thighs and pushed my knees wider.

“Last chance,” he said one more time.

I shook my head. “Do it.”

He didn’t make me wait.

Xavier hooked my legs over his arms and thrust into me in one long, deep stroke. The stretch burned. I cried out, fingers digging into his shoulders. He held still for a second, letting me adjust, jaw clenched tight.

Then he started to move.

Hard. Deep. Relentless. Every thrust pushed the air from my lungs. The couch creamed beneath us. His eyes stayed locked on my face the entire time, watching every broken expression I made.

“You feel that?” he growled. “That’s mine now. This cunt. These sounds. All of it.”

I could only moan in answer.

He fucked me like he was trying to carve himself into my body. When I came the first time, it ripped through me so hard I sobbed. Xavier didn’t stop. He chased his own pleasure with brutal strokes until he buried himself to the hilt and groaned against my neck, pulsing deep inside me.

For a long moment the only sound was our ragged breathing.

He pulled out slowly. I felt the wet heat of him trickle down my thigh. Instead of moving away, Xavier dropped his head and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of my knee. Then higher. Then higher still, until his tongue dragged through the mess he had left between my legs.

I jerked.

“Xavier—what are you—”

“Cleaning up,” he said against my skin. “And then I’m going to fuck you again. Slower this time. Until you forget every soft thing he ever did to you.”

My head fell back against the couch cushion.

Outside, the city kept glittering like nothing had changed.

Inside, everything had.

I had just let my best friend’s husband come inside me while my own husband was across town fucking her.

And the worst part?

I already wanted him to do it again.