However, the second time with Xanthe had really been the first for me. It had been all wondrous moans and breathy sighs, us coming together like that. She’d moved with me as though our hearts and minds beat to the same rhythm, meeting me for each thrust, every gasp, filling me up with her pulse and air, even as I had filled her with me.
I hadn’t known sex could be like that. I never wanted sex to be other than that ever again.
The next morning had been another side to that sort of sex—still soul-shattering but in a way that was fun and filled with laughter.
Bianca gave a little cough. I’d ceased taking photos. Being so caught up in the memory of Xanthe, I’d dazed off, and I was staring at the curtains filtering the late morning sunlight. Stunned, I looked into Bianca’s cocoa eyes.
Her pixie face split into a heart-stopping smile. “Who is she?”
My spine snapped straight. “Let’s get some of you standing.”
Overall, the shoot was a success. I was more than confident that we had done the perfume ads justice. When I was done stowing my equipment in the boot of my car, Bianca sauntered out of the lobby of the hotel and came toward me, a knowing smirk on her face.
“FairFawkes or Gabby’s?” I asked her, opening the car door.
“If you are happier taking me to FairFawkes, I can walk to Gabby’s. I do not mind,” she said in her French accent, smiling as she slid into the car.
Gabriella’s was closer. Bianca would have a long walk if I took her to FairFawkes.
“Gabby’s it is,” I told her.
Bianca was quiet for a few minutes. Her light perfume filled up my car. I liked how she smelled—clean, fresh, dainty. It was so different from Xanthe. Xanthe’s scent grabbed me, saturated my senses, drugged me even.
“You really won’t tell me about her? I won’t say anything to Gabby. She is very upset with you.”
“I know,” I replied.
“This woman must be special. I never thought you were the type.”
“The type?”
“To want to be tied to one woman. I suppose, it only takes the right woman though.” She sighed dramatically. “It is a shame for me, for I was so looking forward to seeing you. You are one of my favorite lovers, Ollie.”
“You were one of mine, too.”
Seeing that I had put a smile on her face, I believed I would miss Bianca the most.
“You still have told me nothing of her.”
I exhaled. “She’s different, Bibi. She’s nothing like us.”
“I suspect she would have to be.” She sounded like Trey.
“I’m not ready to expose her to us. We’re not always the nicest people. And she’s too wonderful.”
“You know I am not like that,” she stated.
“True. Out of all of us, you are the nicest.”
I pulled up in front of Gabriella’s building.
“Thank you for the ride,” she said. “I promise not to say anything. But you should not be afraid to introduce her to us. If she has the strength to take you on, then no doubt, she could hold her own.”
“It’s not that, Bibi. I never want her to feel less than magnificent, and Gabby can be ruthless.”
“Mmm…” she hummed. “You and I are much alike as well, Ollie. If she has your heart, then she must be something…else.”
“You have no idea.”
“Has Trey told you, we’re all going out for dinner tonight?”
“No.”
She smiled. “Trey is so very much a sly fox, eh?” she joked, smiling at her play of words with Trey’s last name. “I will see you later tonight.”
“Maybe,” I stressed. “I haven’t—”
Laughing, Bianca leaned over and brushed her mouth across mine. It wasn’t meant to be sexual, and I felt that from her. She was French. It was how she was.
Back at FairFawkes, I put away the equipment and then pulled out my phone to call Xanthe.
“Hello?” she answered.
I heard the fast clicking of fingers over a keyboard.
“Hey, Xanthe Love.”
She sighed when she’d heard it was me, and I had the impression it wasn’t in exasperation.
“Can I see you tonight?” I asked.
“I’ve already made plans with Jaime and Ricki.”
“Damn it,” I grumbled. Looked like I’d be having dinner with Trey, Bianca, and Gabriella after all. He certainly wouldn’t let me off the hook to mope at home. “What are you doing now?”
“Working.”
“At the bookstore?” I asked, catching sight of the decent-size package from Mandy sitting on my desk. I had thought I’d start tackling them now, but I could easily do it anywhere with a table.
“It is where I work,” she replied dryly.
“You need some coffee?”
“Damn it, Ollie—”
“See you soon,” I told her before hanging up.
Grabbing the box—shit, it was heavier than it’d looked—I hurried out of my office. Trey caught me just as I was about to charge through the front door.
“Oliver.”
“Not now, Trey.”
“Yes, now! Dinner tonight with the girls. It’s a new place not far from here. I’m picking them up at seven, so meet us here by seven thirty.”
“And if I don’t want to go?”
He shrugged. “Don’t really care what you want right now.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I snapped.
He grinned wickedly at me. “You look good today, by the way. You wear a decent night’s sleep well.”
“See you,” I told him before leaving without a backward glance.
Xanthe
Most of the time I spent at the bookstore was on the computer. It wasn’t like there was ever a mad rush for people to get their hands on used books. We had our regulars, of course. But I’d use the downtime to write and connect with fans and my cyber friends, like Mandy.
The stories, my words, were coming back. All of yesterday, I had felt them swelling up inside me, and I’d started writing again when I made it home from Ellen’s with Beefcake snoozing in his carrier.
My current work in progress was the fifth book of the Paranormal Hunters series. Dreamstone didn’t know I’d already written the fourth, Blood Moon. I’d been getting ready to send it to my editor, Johanna, when Dreamstone contacted me. Postponing with Johanna, I’d made sure that I was able to get it in writing that I could continue to use her services if I signed. Another editor might change the tone of the series, and I didn’t want that. Dreamstone had agreed to my terms.
Now, I was anxiously waiting for the minute when Oliver would show up. Aunt Ellen was in the back, going through a box of used books someone had brought by that morning, so I was in the front with my laptop, waiting for the occasional straggler to come in and poke around.
With Ollie on the way, I needed to occupy myself with manual labor. Pulling out the tea canisters, I began wiping and dusting the shelves.
The bells above the door jingled. My hands got sweaty—and so did my boobs and armpits. Turning around, I saw one of our regulars, an ancient-looking man, zeroing in on our cheapest used book bin.