The next day, Olivia showed up on time, pen and paper at the ready, ignoring the weird looks she got from MC members and their groupies on her way up to Xander’s loft. Jerry had given her a key for her own personal use. She made a mental note not to mention that to Xander until trust had been established. And I will establish trust, she promised herself. She had never failed before, not even with the most violent criminals. There was no way this silly little biker boy was going to stump her, no matter how unpredictable he was.
When he walked up into the loft, he didn’t look surprised to see her this time. He nodded in greeting, slamming his backpack down roughly on the ground and stretching his arms out like he was getting ready to either break into a run or go to bed.
“You’re late,” she said to him in as strong a voice as she could muster. He was really only about four or five minutes behind schedule, honestly better than she expected, but she needed to establish rules early on. They were partners, but she was the authority here. That’s how it worked. It was the only way they could make progress.
But Xander didn’t acknowledge her comment, instead marching over to his kitchen area to grab something from the fridge.
Olivia sighed deeply. Oh, of course. This couldn’t be easy, could it? “Would you mind remaining sober for the duration of our visit today? I’d like to get the clearest, most lucid answers possible,” she said.
“You want one? All you had to do was ask,” Xander said, turning around to head back to the kitchen.
“No! Nope, that’s fine,” Olivia said, and Xander sank into a chair near Olivia instead.
He cracked open his beer and took a deep drink.
When do I bring up his obvious alcohol abuse? Olivia wondered to herself. But, then again, her inner voice argued, you’re really in no position to judge, hanging out at the bar every night of the week.
Fuck off, Olivia told her inner voice. It’s not my job to be a fully-functional adult. It’s my job to help other people get there.
Xander stared at her expectantly, his legs spread out as far as they could go.
Olivia wondered if he was trying to be obnoxious or if he just naturally sat that way. She cleared her throat and clicked her pen to signify the start of the session. “So. Xander. What do you want to get out of this partnership with me?”
He answered by way of a half-shrug, barely lifting one shoulder. His face was expressionless, completely blank.
Okay, so this was going to be a hard nut to crack. That was fine with Olivia. She had plenty of experience with unwilling, obstinate clients. She could do this. “Are you unhappy to be here with me?” she asked.
Xander just grunted.
Olivia waited, expecting him to open his mouth and say actual words, but a true response never came. She sighed. “So I’m getting the sense that you’re not excited to be here.” She tapped her pen impatiently against her paper. “What would you like to talk about? Nothing’s off-limits. We can open with something easy.”
Xander shrugged again and turned his head to look out the window.
Okay, this strategy isn’t going to work, Olivia thought. Let’s try a different angle. “So when did you first ride a motorcycle?” she asked, putting her pen down. Maybe a casual vibe would work better.
“Long time ago,” Xander muttered, still not looking at her.
Olivia started to feel her back muscles tense up in anxiety. She expected him to be difficult, but there was something about the flat, deflated way he was sitting in the chair, like he was a puddle instead of a person. It was like his brain had detached from his body and left.
Olivia cleared her throat and tried again, pivoting back to a direct approach. “Are you upset with your uncle for setting this up?”
Xander’s eyebrows twitched a little at that, but he still refused to say anything substantial. “It’s whatever,” he grunted.
Olivia tapped her knees thoughtfully. Maybe he was just nervous about opening up. In her experience, anxious clients tended to clam up if they felt like the meeting was an interrogation rather than a conversation. Maybe she just needed to talk more. “Perhaps you’d like to know more about my goals and objectives being here.”
“Cash?” Xander suggested, his voice cold and low.
Olivia laughed at that, too loudly for the awkward tension in the room. “Well, aside from monetary compensation, I want to help you self-actualize, Xander. Do you know what that means?”
He stared at her, offering nothing in the way of response.
“It means being able to achieve your full potential. Being all you can be. Knowing yourself and what you want, and finding a path to get there. Doesn’t that sound appealing?”
Xander shrugged again. “I’m fine right now.”
Yeah, you’re just peachy fucking keen, Olivia thought. “Of course,” she lied. “Of course you are. But wouldn’t you like to be more than fine? Wouldn’t you like to be doing well? Doing as well as you can?”
“I think I’m there already, thanks,” Xander said. This time his voice had an edge to it, like he was getting pissed just listening to her.
That set something off inside Olivia. He was sitting there barely contributing a single spot of help and he had the audacity to get annoyed with her? Time to take the gloves off. “Do you have any interest in contributing to this conversation?” she asked.
His expression changed, finally. Now his brows were pushed together and his nose scrunched up in disgust. “Depends,” he spat, “are you gonna talk like a human being or just throw around psychobabble for the rest of the afternoon?”
Olivia had to suppress the groan of frustration that threatened to leave her throat. This was getting ridiculous. She felt like she was trying to climb a rope slicked with butter, just slipping down every time she tried to get a single inch higher. “I’m just here to help you, Xander,” she said, keeping her voice steady and calm. “That’s all I’m here to do. But unless you’re willing to help yourself, all you’ll be doing is wasting your uncle’s money.”
“He’s got plenty of it to throw around,” Xander argued, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Want one?”
“No, thank you. I don’t smoke.” Outside of bars, Olivia added silently.
“Suit yourself,” Xander muttered as he lit up and took a long, slow drag.
Olivia waited, expecting him to say something else, something about Jerry, something about the club—anything, really. But nothing came. “So is this what it’s going to be like for the next few months? I stare at you and you stare back at me and nothing gets accomplished?”
“Months?” Xander asked around his cigarette.
“Well, your uncle didn’t give me a timeline. But he paid me more than I make in a year, so I’m willing to stick around for as long as it takes.”
Xander frowned again, his whole face turning hard and cold. “Until what?”
Until you surrender to me, fucker. “Until you come around and start contributing to our conversations.” They just stared at each other for a long moment, neither moving an inch, before Olivia spoke again. “The sooner you talk, really talk, the sooner I’ll be out of your life.”
Xander blew out a slow, steady stream of smoke. “All right.”
“All right?” Olivia repeated. Did that really work? Was she finally getting somewhere with this asshole? Fuck. She inwardly berated herself for thinking of her client poorly. She was supposed to be objective. Neutral. A trusted authority figure. She couldn’t very well do that if she was letting herself get annoyed with a troubled man.
“I’ll fucking talk,” Xander said. “But I ain’t gonna say shit you want to hear.”
Olivia straightened up in her seat and clenched her pen tighter. Maybe she cracked him open. “That’s fine. There are no rules here.”
“Okay, look,” Xander began, pausing to suck on his cigarette. “You’re not gonna be happy with whatever this is. It’s just not going to happen. You’re better off leaving now and never coming back because it’s just a waste of your time. I’m okay with where I am and how I am right now, and I don’t need to fucking change.”
She looked at him a moment, watching how he sat, how his muscles moved, how his fingers twitched around his cigarette. “Hmm.”
Xander looked up from his lap to glare at her. “What’s that for? What you fucking humming about?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing,” she lied, turning to her pad of paper to scrawl some gibberish down, just to cultivate the image that she’d just made a great breakthrough.
“Now, what the fuck are you writing? What? Come on, what?”
Olivia sighed. “Oh, it’s just—you know, another silly psychobabble term. You wouldn’t like it.”
“What is it?” Xander demanded. There was an edge of urgency to his voice this time.
“In my profession, we call it ‘denial.’ When the brain literally can’t accept what’s plain as day. That’s all,” she said, a casual tone to her voice, before turning back to her papers to pretend to write something highly important.
“Oh, yeah?” Xander said, standing up from his chair. Olivia looked up to see him with clenched fists. “And what the hell am I ‘denying,’ exactly, doc? Tell me.”
Olivia tapped her pen against her legs, a little too roughly. A pink spot started to form on her knees, but she liked the stinging sensation. She liked that little edge of pain. “You claim to be happy with where you are in life. But you’re smoking and drinking constantly, filling up every spare moment with something to distract you.”
Xander scoffed. “Everyone in the club does that. You’re gonna have to reach harder if you’re gonna diagnose me as fucked up.”
“The fighting, Xander. Constantly hitting your own men. What’s that about?” Olivia asked.
“I fucking feel like it!” Xander half-yelled. “That’s a good enough fucking reason.”
Olivia shook her head. “No, it’s not. It’s not good enough. You’re hurting people. You’re hurting yourself. That’s not okay.”
“Yeah, yeah, save me the sermon, okay?” Xander shot back. “I’ll live my life my way. It’s none of your concern.”
She tapped her feet in thought for a second, watching him as he walked closer to the couch, clearly fuming. Olivia wondered, distantly, if she should have been scared, if he would hurt her. Her heart was pumping, but it wasn’t out of fear. She felt like her blood was going crazy inside her veins, begging her to do something. She got to her feet and walked to the center of the room, mere inches away from Xander. “You’re right, you know,” she said, and her voice was surprisingly low, barely above a whisper. “It’s not my problem. I’m here to get paid. I really shouldn’t care if you get better or not.”
Xander glared at her, his jaw clenched tight.
“I do care, though. Maybe it makes me unprofessional, but I do. I’m not going to stop caring. And I’m not going to stop trying until you get your life together. So get used to me, buddy.”
“You’re fucking psychotic,” Xander laughed, walking away. For a second, Olivia thought he was going to go downstairs and get away from her, and she prepared to break into a run to stop him, but instead he just went over to an ashtray on a counter and put out his cigarette. “You’re out of your goddamned mind.”
Olivia shrugged. “Maybe. Either way, it’s not about me. It’s about you.”
Xander marched back over to her. “Nah, no, come on. I found a topic I wanna talk about. Let’s talk about you. Let’s talk about what kinda fucking psycho comes to a motorcycle club to help a guy run drugs better. I mean, what the fuck?”
Olivia stepped closer to him and stared up into his eyes. “Sure. Sure, we can talk about that. But you know the difference between you and me? I know what I’m doing. I might not be okay with it, but I’m aware. You’re stumbling around in the dark.”
“Oh, and what, you’re gonna shine a fucking nightlight in my direction??”
Olivia stepped a little closer. “If that’s what it takes.”
Xander’s eyes were full of something Olivia couldn’t read. Something beyond anger, beyond irritation. Again, she wondered if he were about to hit her, if this is what it looked like when a man decided that you were a piece of shit.
No. No, he won’t hurt me, she thought to herself, and she was surprised at how certain she felt.
“You’re a fucking piece of work,” Xander murmured, putting a firm hand on her shoulder.
“I’m very determined,” Olivia whispered. Her heart pounded like a ticking bomb in her chest.
Xander slammed his mouth against hers, lips hard and unrelenting. His tongue slipped against the crack between her lips, not quite dipping inside but slicking along both lips.
Olivia moaned at the sensation, opening her mouth to let him in. What am I doing? What am I doing? Olivia asked herself. I don’t care, she answered. I’m doing what I want. For once in my life, I’m doing what I want.
Neither of them talked. They didn’t have to. They grasped at each other’s bodies, nails digging into bare skin painfully. Olivia felt so desperate, like she was starving, like she was being denied the oxygen that she needed to survive, and the only way to keep going was to suck on Xander’s lips, lick his tongue, drop wet kisses all over his chin and cheeks and ears. “God,” she grunted out into his ear. “God, fuck, damn.”
“Yeah,” Xander said into her mouth, his hand coming up to wrap around her neck. “Fuck, yeah.”
Olivia pushed Xander’s shirt up, clawing at his stomach and chest and clavicle. His abs were so hard, so solid. She wanted to dig in and never let go. Instead, she pushed her hands around to claw at his back, scratching up between his shoulder-blades and down into the dimples above his ass. God. He was so fucking firm. Pure muscle.
Xander pushed her skirt up, scratching along the insides of her thighs and then up to her stomach and hips. He squeezed her waistline, hard, hard enough that Olivia squealed like a little girl. But one hand traveled north, pushing up over her bra and clenching over it. Olivia gasped into his mouth, accidentally dragging her tooth along his bottom lip, but he groaned, deep and long, and Olivia took the hint and sucked his lips between her teeth.
He pushed one hand into her bra, grabbing at her bare breast, kneading it in his palm. Olivia moaned and leaned forward into his touch. She wanted him to take more and more of her flesh. She pulled her hands out of Xander’s shirt, ignoring his groan of annoyance, to reach back under her dress and unclasp her bra. Xander took the hint and yanked the bra away, throwing it halfway across the room.
Olivia pushed her hands along his shoulders and collarbone, digging her nails in hard enough to leave long red streaks behind every stroke of her fingers. She dug her nails past his neckline, down across his chest, before resurfacing to tear his shirt over his head and off his body. God, he looked so gorgeous, so fucking perfect without a shirt on.
Meanwhile, Xander’s hand found her zipper and tugged it down, pushing her dress aside and leaving her in just her black panties. Olivia moaned quietly as she was stripped bare, her hands coming up to hide her nipples as Xander pulled the fabric away.
He bent his head down and licked along her neck, biting down on her veins, the rhythm of his tongue matching her pulse. Olivia arched up into his touch, bending her neck to give him better access. He licked to her ear, nibbling her lobe and then moving to the sensitive top corner of her ear. He pulled it into his mouth, scraping with his teeth, rubbing little circles with his tongue.
“God!” she yelled out.
“Careful,” Xander warned her as he licked his way back down her neck. “You don’t want anyone downstairs to hear what a bad little girl you are.”
She groaned, wrapping her arms around Xander’s waist. “Fuck.”
“Shh, shh, shh,” Xander whispered in her ear before biting down on it gently, sending sparks shattering down Olivia’s spine.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, shit,” she whispered, rubbing her hand through his hair, turning it into a wavy, sweaty mess.
“No, no,” Xander rushed to say, pressing his mouth against hers again. “I like it. I like hearing you want me.”
“I do,” Olivia admitted. “I want you.”
“Yeah?” Xander said, pushing his hand up her neck and tangling into her hair. “You fucking want me, baby? You want me to fuck you?”
Olivia moaned weakly into Xander’s neck and ran her nails down his bare back. “I want it.”
Xander’s hands drifted down past her waist and over her hips, down to the band of her underwear. “You want me to fuck you? You want me inside you? You want my fucking cock?”
“Yes,” Olivia moaned, biting lightly on Xander’s neck. “I want you. I fucking want you.”
“I’m gonna give it to you, baby. I’m gonna give it you hard,” Xander promised before biting the edge of Olivia’s chin, sucking so hard that he definitely left a mark.
Oh, fuck, no, Olivia thought to herself. He’s not going to mark me without suffering the same punishment. She latched her mouth onto his collarbone, sucking hard onto the bone before pulling back and smiling at the sight of the purple mark she left behind.
“Everyone’s gonna know you’re mine,” she whispered, sliding her tongue along the vein that dropped down between his nipples.
Xander growled and pushed her forward, backing her up until she hit the couch. “No. You’re mine.”
Olivia wrapped her legs around Xander’s bare waist and reached up to yank on his pants. She groaned when they didn’t fall to the ground immediately. He was wearing a belt, so Olivia had to loop her fingers in the waistband of the pants and tug hard, groaning with impatience. “Take. These. Off.”
Xander grunted and shoved his hips forward, pushing them into her pelvis. “You want me naked?” Xander whispered, leaning down to kiss along Olivia’s face, down her forehead and cheek and over to her lips.
“Yes,” Olivia rushed to say. “I need it.”
Xander shoved his pants to the ground and stepped out of them to lay Olivia on the couch, pressing her down into the cushions. “You fucking like that? You like my cock pressing against you?”
Olivia struggled to get a hand between their bodies, slinking down to his crotch to stroke his cock over his underwear. “I’d like it more if you’d lose the boxers,” she said.
Xander shoved his boxers to his feet and pressed his bare cock against her underwear.
Olivia moaned at the feeling, sensing how much he wanted her. She glanced downwards to see what she was dealing with and inhaled shakily, trying to calm herself down. She’d never seen a bigger cock in her entire life. “You’re gonna have to prepare me first,” she whispered before dropping a gentle kiss on Xander’s lips. “I’m not ready for you yet.”
Xander growled again, and for a second Olivia worried she angered him, made him too impatient, but he pressed his mouth against hers again, softly this time, almost gently. Olivia relaxed in his arms, all her muscles going loose at the same time, but Xander was ready to catch her, his hands holding tightly onto her shoulders.
“I can’t—I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Olivia whispered, pressing her mouth lightly against his neck.
“But you are,” Xander said in a deep voice before kissing her hard. There was no turning back.
Xander scraped his teeth along her neck again, making her moan out as his fingers danced along the line of her underwear. Goddammit, she just wanted him to tug them down and shove into her already. This wait was making her crazy.
Olivia reached forward and grabbed the back of Xander’s neck, pushing their faces together to kiss him deeply, sticking her tongue into his mouth and tasting the sweet flavor of his lips. Fuck, he was so soft, secretly so fucking tender. “You’re working too slow,” she told him as she looped a thumb into her own underwear and pushed it to her knees.
“I like teasing you,” Xander said as he slipped a hand above her privates, fingers dancing along the soft, sensitive skin above her legs. “You’re so fucking cute.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Xander answered. “From the moment I saw you I wanted this.”
“Me, too,” Olivia admitted.
“Yeah?” Xander asked as his fingers drifted lower, slipping between her lower lips. “You wanted my fucking cock?”
Olivia groaned, her back arching, pushing her breasts up against his chest. “Yes,” she said, practically slurring. “Please. Do it.”
“How do you want it?” Xander said before biting down on her shoulder.
Olivia squealed loudly enough for the first floor to hear. “Any way,” Olivia said breathlessly as she grinded herself against Xander, gasping at the feeling of his cock against her pussy. “Please, just take me.”
Xander’s fingers moved south, down between her legs, tracing over the sensitive skin of her inner thighs first, then moving to the outer lips of her vulva, his fingers dancing along the little hairs that lined her skin.
Olivia spread her legs apart, trying to give him greater access, and Xander lurched forward at the opportunity, his hand firmly pressing against her pussy. “You like that?” he prompted.
“Yes,” Olivia said while nodding, pushing her legs farther apart. “Please.”
Xander’s hand slipped lower, down to Olivia’s hole, slipping in her wetness and sticking the tip of his thumb inside of her, making her squeal out embarrassingly loudly. “You fuckin’ like that, baby?” Xander grunted out as his thumb dipped in deeper.
“Ah!” Olivia cried out under her breath. “Fuck, Jesus, dammit.”
“Nasty girl,” Xander taunted her as his thumb slipped all the way inside and started making tiny little circles, brushing up against countless sensitive spots inside of her.
“I am. I’m so nasty,” Olivia admitted, pressing her feet hard against Xander’s back.
“Yeah,” Xander agreed, his other fingers brushing up against her clit to the rhythm he’d set with his thumb. “You’re so fucking dirty, fucking me like this. Letting me do whatever I want. Isn’t that right, baby?”
Olivia nodded her head quickly, otherwise lost for words as she gasped for air. Her hands found their way to Xander’s pecs, squeezing the muscle hard before digging in with her nails. Xander grunted out and shoved his thumb in deeper, moving it around in faster circles.
“You’re so fucking bad. So dirty,” he said, pulling his thumb out of her a moment later. Olivia gave a choked-off whine in response, unhappy with the empty feeling she was left with, but a second later Xander’s gloriously long fingers slipped down to her hole again and started playing with the outside.
“Do it. Please,” Olivia begged, her voice almost a whine.
“Well since you asked so sweetly, I’ll be nice,” Xander said before shoving two fingers inside, deep and hard. He began fucking her with little warning, pushing them in and out and in and out, over and over again until her legs started to shake.
“I’m…Thank you,” she moaned, reaching a hand up to fluff up his hair.
Xander laughed and moved his fingers faster and faster. “Such a sweet little nasty girl. Such a bad officer. You ever been fucked by a criminal?”
Olivia shook her head quickly, just as she arched her back to press her hips up closer to his thrusting hand.
He added a third finger inside of her, stretching her apart so wide she thought she was going to burst. Fuck, it was so deep. He moved his fingertips in fast circles again, making her cry out like a hungry wolf. She needed it.
“Yeah, that’s it, get wet for me, baby,” Xander grunted, leaning forward to lick along the sides of her pussy. “Taste so fucking good. So sweet. Such a sweet dirty girl.”
“Yes, yes, yes.” She loved being manhandled like this, treated like a ragdoll that he had the power to play with however he wanted. She knew she would do anything he said. He had complete power over her, and that made her feel like she was on fire.
“You ready for it?” Xander asked, his fingers slowing down inside of her.
Olivia didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want him to stop touching her for a single second, but at the same time she needed him inside of her, needed to feel his weight on top of her. “Y-yes,” she stuttered out.
Xander growled and leaned forward again to kiss her, his tongue wetly sliding against her mouth before slipping inside. After a minute, he pulled back and stepped away from her, keeping his fingers inside her while he bent to the floor to fish something out of his pants pocket.
A second later he pulled out of her to put a condom on his cock, quickly stroking his dick up and down, leaning on top of her body and pressing his covered cock between her legs. “You’re gonna get me wet, baby?”
Olivia nodded, grabbing onto his arms and squeezing the firm muscles. “You’re so…” She trailed off, unsure of what she wanted to say. Usually she was so talkative and dominant in bed, making men into her sexual servants that did whatever she wanted. But Xander was so different. So tough, so strong, so sure of his body. She just wanted him to claim her.
“So fucking sweet.” His cock aligned with her pussy and he bore down, sinking the tip inside of her wetness. “Jesus,” he grunted.
“You…you like that?” Olivia panted, nails digging into the skin of Xander’s arms for traction as she pushed up on his dick, wanting him to spread her open.
“You got such a sweet tight pussy,” Xander whispered, his eyes falling shut as he pushed another inch of his cock in. “’So fucking tight. Goddammit.” Out of nowhere, he shoved all his cock inside and began hammering away at her hips, pushing in and out and in and out so fast the couch started shaking beneath them. “Fuck!” Xander yelled, picking up the pace and causing the couch to rock back and forth, banging on the wooden floor.
Olivia felt like she was being split open. Her pussy had never taken this much cock in her entire life. He was hitting sensitive spots inside of her that she’d never even known about, making her squeal pathetically with every push inside. She pounded her fists on his shoulders, but she wasn’t sure if she was asking him to slow down or give her more. Olivia was so overwhelmed; it was like every nerve in her body was screaming in pleasure and pain.
Xander kept pounding her, more and more smoothly with every thrust. Meanwhile his hand pressed down on her clit, applying the same level of pressure that he was giving her with his cock.
Her clit was burning up, getting hotter with every push of his cock and every flick of his fingers. Olivia felt like it was vibrating, tiny little waves at first that grew wider with every passing second, spreading down to her pussy, then out to her legs and hips and finally down her legs and feet and toes and up to her arms and hands and fingers. Her entire body shook like a flimsy piece of paper. All she could do was grab on tighter to Xander’s body.
“I’ve never—” Xander grunted in between thrusts, “—had somebody…so fucking tight before. Mmm. Never. Fuck. Shit.”
Olivia groaned loudly, turning her head to bite at Xander’s free hand, sucking his fingers into her mouth to stop the noises that she desperately wanted to scream. Xander took the hint and began fucking her mouth with his fingers, moving both hands to the same rhythm while his cock gained even more speed and started moving the couch back a few inches with every push. Fuck, he’s so powerful, Olivia thought, her mouth sucking harder on his skin as if she could absorb his strength through his sweat.
Suddenly, Xander pulled out and yanked his hands away, but before Olivia could protest he grabbed her feet and put them on his shoulders before sinking back inside of her. “Oh!” Olivia cried out before Xander’s fingers returned to her mouth. He was even deeper now, hitting a new angle.
“Yeah, you like that?” Xander said, his hand speeding up on her clit.
Olivia just nodded, but Xander shoved in hard and came to a stop, staring down at her. “Answer me,” he demanded.
“Yes,” she moaned in between licks of his fingertips. “Yes, I love it. I fucking love it.”
“You’re a bad girl, aren’t you?” Xander said as he restarted his rhythm. Olivia nodded again, which was good enough for him this time. “You’re my bad girl?”
“Yes,” Olivia whispered, biting down on his fingers and making Xander hiss in response.
His hand started flying over her clit, pushing it up and down as quickly as he was shoving his cock inside her. “Come on, baby. Come on, you bad girl. You nasty little girl,” Xander said in a low voice, his thumb rotating her clit in mercilessly fast circles.
Olivia cried out and arched her back almost painfully, legs shaking like they were being moved by the force of an earthquake.
“Come on!” Xander yelled, his fingers moving faster. He pivoted his hips so he hit that perfect, blazing spot inside of her, making Olivia scream.
“Ahh! Ahh, ohhh, fuuuuuck!” she wailed, body completely frozen as he slammed into her at the perfect angle.
“Come on, come on,” Xander encouraged her, bouncing his cock inside of her on top of that spot. “Do it for me, baby.”
Olivia’s whole torso contorted, bending impossibly as she moaned and cried out like she was being tortured. She was building between her legs, higher and hotter with every half-second that went by. Goddammit, she was going to explode, she was going to burst apart into a thousand pieces, it was too much, it was too big, it was so fucking huge, this feeling between her thighs. She didn’t know if she was strong enough to contain it.
“Do it,” Xander demanded, slapping his hips against hers. “Fucking do it.”
Olivia screamed, slapping the side of Xander’s body as she reached desperately for something to hold onto. And then…
She yelled, her eyes screwing shut as the sensation between her legs reached its peak, sending her over the edge, the explosion in her pussy pulsing like a second heart. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whined as she came down, her heartbeat pounding in her pussy.
“My turn,” Xander growled, shoving in harder and grabbing onto her hips with both hands. He shoved her whole body back and forth, moving her along his cock. Olivia whined through it, every nerve in her body utterly exhausted, but she pushed back as hard as she could in her drained state.
Xander started roaring like an animal, his entire face screwed up in concentration as he pushed in harder than before, roughly fucking her as he chased his orgasm. Olivia’s hips were bouncing back and forth in between the couch and Xander’s hips so fast she was sure she was going to bruise, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, not when Xander was moaning like he was on the verge of death, like only her body could save him.
Olivia stretched her arm out and grabbed his ass, squeezing as hard as she could to encourage him. “Come on, baby. Come on, baby,” she whispered.
“Goddammit!” Xander yelled, slapping the side of her hips. He shoved inside one, two, three, four, five more times before pulling back and then launching his cock forward, as deep as it could go, pulsing inside of her. A second later, Xander collapsed on top of her, his entire body limp and still. “Fuck,” he moaned under his breath.
Underneath him, Olivia panted furiously, trying to get some air into her lungs. Goddammit, she felt like she was trapped underwater, but she never wanted to surface again. She wanted to feel like this, on the edge between life and the thick black void that lies beyond it, forever. “I think—” she started to say, but she had to lick her lips to raise her voice above a squeaky whisper. “I think I’m ready for that drink now,” she said.
Xander turned his head, nuzzling it into her neck. “Okay, just give me one sec,” he whispered.
“I can get it myself,” Olivia said.
Xander shook his head and rubbed his hand up and down the length of her torso, soothing the sore spots where he’d lightly slapped her. “No. You’re not going anywhere.”
Olivia smiled to herself and petted the back of Xander’s hair, running her fingers through the sweaty mess of tangles that formed after their fuck session. “That was…”
“Fucking awesome,” Xander supplied, muttering into her neck. He lightly bit down on her skin, making her whine lowly.
She felt warm in her chest, almost fuzzy despite the thick ache in her muscles. She felt so wrung-out, so completely demolished, but it felt good. It felt nice, being a blob of a person melting into the couch with a huge sweaty man on top of her.
“All right,” he whispered hoarsely after another minute. “I’ll get your drink. You stay put.”
Olivia complied without saying anything, letting him get up and slowly walk over to the fridge to pull out two beers.
She bent at her waist to sit up, feeling a numb pain in her back as the result of their activities. Well, that’s going to hurt in the morning, she thought to herself. But so worth it.
Xander opened the two beers on his way back over to the couch and sat down next to her, handing her the drink without saying a word.
It was a bit too hoppy for her tastes, thick and musky. She usually drank wine or vodka tonics, maybe gin if she was feeling a bit adventurous. Olivia took a few deep sips. She could get used to it.
“Well, damn,” Xander said in between long drags of his beer.
“Yeah,” Olivia agreed with a laugh. “Damn, indeed.”
“Have you really never done that before?” Xander asked. When Olivia turned her head to look at him, he was staring at the floor. There was something vulnerable about the way he said it that made her stare at him intently until he looked directly at her.
“Yeah,” she finally said. “Yeah, I’ve never done that before. Never with a client or a parolee or anything like that.” She tried to say it as casually as possible.
Xander nodded and took another long drink. “You’re just, you’re good at it. That’s why I asked. Wondered if you had much practice doing this kind of thing.”
Olivia smiled again, feeling warm inside. “Well. Thank you. I appreciate that. You weren’t so bad yourself.”
He drained the rest of his drink and set the empty bottle on the ground. “So I take it you’re up for more? Not now, maybe, because my legs are fucking tired, but tomorrow? You up for it?”
She stared down at her lap. “I—I don’t know.”
“Why?” There was an edge of irritation to his voice.
Olivia wondered if she wounded his pride. “It’s just— I’m here to work, you know?” Olivia said, still not looking up at him. If she saw his face right now, still caught up in the afterglow, she would probably kiss him again and maybe start the whole thing all over, and that was the opposite of what she should be doing. Goddamn, she couldn’t believe she had done this. First, taking a risky job like this, and now fucking her client? Clearly something was going on with her. If she were her own client, she’d be very concerned. But I’m not my own fucking client, and I should get to do what I want, her inner voice argued. “I’m here to do a job,” she repeated, feeling ridiculous talking like this while she was still naked and sweating on the guy’s couch. “I’m not getting paid to fuck you.”
“Yeah,” Xander agreed. “But it can be a nice bonus, if you’re really into it. And you seemed pretty fucking into it.”
Olivia chewed her bottom lip, finding it sensitive from the kissing they’d done earlier. “Yeah, but I’m not going to keep showing up here just to fuck you. You have to cooperate with me on the actual job or I can’t accept your uncle’s money. Simple as that.”
They were silent for a while. Olivia was just about to get up, slip her clothes on, and disappear into the desert to die of embarrassment when Xander finally spoke up.
“Okay. Okay, I’ll answer your stupid questions.”
Olivia smiled so wide her cheeks ached before she reined it in. Be professional, she reminded herself. Professional? You just screwed the guy so hard you both had to suppress your screams. Olivia disregarded her internal argument and got to her feet, fastening her bra and zipping her dress back up.
“Where are you going?” Xander complained, reaching out to grab her ankle.
“We need to do this right. We’ll sit across from each other. There’s a process to these things.”
Xander groaned in annoyance. “Fuck the process. Come here, lay down.”
“Just try it once,” Olivia suggested. “Try it once and if you hate it, we’ll do it on the floor from now on.”
She saw Xander grin, that wildfire look in his eyes again. “So that means we’re gonna make a habit of this, huh?”
Olivia shrugged and shimmied away from him, swinging her hips subtly from side to side. “If you’re a good boy,” she whispered.
“Fuck,” Xander grunted. “Okay. Okay.”
He got up and followed her, and did as instructed when she pointed at the couch. Olivia sat down on the chair, adjusting her skirt so an appropriate amount of leg was showing.
Xander looked at her, tapping his hands on his knees. Anxiety came off him like smoke from a fire. “So?” he prompted. “Shoot.”
“All right,” Olivia agreed. But I’m not going to hold back, she added silently. He let her in, when they were both naked and vulnerable. He showed himself to her. This wasn’t the way she usually did things. She’d never fucked a client before, but maybe there was something to be said for it. She knew things about him now that she could use later. Like the delicious curve of his ass, for instance, she thought.
Olivia straightened her glasses and reached under the chair to retrieve her pen and paper. She sighed once, deep and full, to prepare for the litany of questions she was about to spew. “What do you want? I mean, really, really want, down to your bones? What does your body tell you to do?”
“Jesus,” Xander said.
“Too much?” Olivia asked, trying to read signs of panic on his face, but she couldn’t detect any.
“I just—I just need a second,” Xander said in a low voice. “That okay?”
“Sure. Let me know if you need me to repeat the question.”
There was a moment of silence where Xander just stared at the ground before he finally whispered, “Okay.”
***
What do I want? What do I want? What the fuck do I want?
Xander shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “To be up-front with you, I want to run away from this whole godawful thing. Just get on my bike and go.”
Olivia bit at the bottom of her lip. “The club?” Xander nodded. “So why don’t you?”
Xander stared blankly back at her, totally stumped. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t like he didn’t ask himself the same exact question every single day. “I— You know, it’s my job,” he said. “I got a job to do here. Wanna get paid.”
“And? You make a tremendous amount of money each year. Are you saving up a certain amount before you plan on leaving?” Olivia asked.
It was a good question. Xander had never really thought of it that way before. “Nah, I don’t know. I guess I’ll just know when it’s enough.”
“Interesting,” Olivia said before scrawling a note down on her paper.
“What was that?” Xander demanded.
“What was what?” Olivia responded innocently, her eyes wide behind her glasses.
“I saw you write something down. What was that about? You analyzing me or something?”
“Just keeping track of important notes. I don’t want you to have to keep repeating things to me,” Olivia explained.
“Well, knock it off,” Xander barked. “I’d rather repeat stuff than have you write shit down about me.” What if someone found the notes, someone in the club? He could never show his face around them again. His blood was pumping in his neck, probably making his veins stick out. He felt a flush of embarrassment rise up his chest and darken his cheeks. “Sorry,” he grumbled. “But don’t fucking do that.”
Olivia put her pen down and crumpled the sheet of paper she’d written on up into a ball. “Fine. No notes, then. Can I ask you why you’re so scared of being analyzed?”
“No,” Xander snapped back. “Can I ask you why you pretend like everything’s normal even though we’ve fucked?”
Olivia shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “It’s not the way I do things,” she said in a lowered tone of voice. “Like I said, I’ve never done that.”
“I bet you say that to all the boys,” Xander said jokingly, though he expected her to snap at him.
Instead, Olivia chuckled, her eyes lighting up with joy. She looked gorgeous with light in her face. “Back to the question, though. Why don’t you leave?”
“I will run off, eventually,” Xander said, a tone of argument seeping into his voice. “I will.”
Olivia chewed on her bottom lip again and slipped her glasses off her face, storing them in her auburn hair. “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you, Xander. I keep asking you when you’d like to leave, and you answer in terms of ‘running away.’ As if you were a kid running away from home.”
Xander gritted his teeth for a moment. “And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Running away implies there’s a home to run away from, a place you have responsibility for. It suggests to me that, subconsciously, you feel a sense of obligation to this place that’s greater than what you let on. That you see it as your home. A home is a difficult thing to leave behind, Xander.”
Xander stared at the ground for a minute. “It was just an expression,” he said finally.
“In my line of work, we don’t think anything is ‘just an expression.’ There’s always a meaning lingering behind our words, like ghosts.” Her eyes were focused intently on Xander, making him squirm a little. He had to fight himself to keep still and not betray how uncomfortable she was making him. “We can move on if you like.”
“Ghosts, huh,” Xander murmured, rubbing his chin in thought.
“Does that make you think of something? We can talk about whatever you’d like,” Olivia said.
Xander got the sense that she was treating him with kid gloves, letting him think he was leading the conversation. He resisted the powerful urge to get up and walk away. “Nothing. It’s nothing,” Xander said, averting his eyes from Olivia’s still-red face to stare at the back wall of his apartment.
He could see her staring at him in his peripheral vision, but her body language changed, her legs crossing and uncrossing and her shoulders relaxing, like she was switching gears. “Okay, let’s move on—”
Xander cut in before she could finish her sentence. “It’s just. Somebody died a while ago. A year and a half ago. That’s all.” He tried for a casual tone, something to suggest he wasn’t that bothered by it anymore, but he probably failed.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Olivia said, pushing her glasses up farther on her head. He could see her brows were furrowed again. “Who died?”
“Nobody. Nothing. It doesn’t matter,” he said quickly, shooting his gaze back down to the floor.
“If you didn’t want me to ask you about it, why did you bring it up?” Olivia asked.
Xander’s mouth fell open to respond, but no words came to him. Why did I tell her? Why did I do that? It honestly hadn’t felt like a decision. The words had left his mouth like sweat pooling out of his body. It needed to escape. He didn’t have a choice. “I don’t know,” he mumbled in response.
“How did this person die?” Olivia prodded him.
His tongue felt heavy and dry in his mouth, so he swallowed a few times to get the courage to reply. “Shooting that caused a crash. It was complicated.”
Olivia stared at him silently for a long time, probably just over a full minute, but to Xander it stretched on forever. This is what hell feels like, he thought.
When she finally spoke, it felt like an act of mercy. “It was someone close to you? Family?”
“Felt like family,” he replied, nervously picking at his knees. “She was my family.”
“She? Your girlfriend?” Xander didn’t say anything in response, which was its own answer. “What was her name?”
“Marta,” Xander said, and his voice was barely above a whisper. It felt dirty, saying her name now. He felt like he wasn’t allowed to, like he’d abused his privileges when it came to her, and the only fitting punishment would be an inability to talk about her ever again. “Her name was Marta.”
“Did you see it happen, Xander?” Olivia asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. I was...I was right there.”
Olivia clicked and unclicked her pen a few times, and Xander looked up to make sure she wasn’t writing anything down. It seemed more like a nervous tick, like she needed something to fill the silence. “Xander,” Olivia said, her voice soft and low. That tone was probably meant to relax him, but Xander felt himself tense up in anticipation. “Xander, do you blame yourself for what happened to Marta?”
“I don’t— I mean. Maybe,” he stuttered. God, he sounded so stupid. Why the hell wasn’t he more put-together? Does it really only take a roll in the sack to turn him into a useless, scared little boy?
“Do you blame the club?”
Xander shrugged, but he already knew the answer to the question. “I mean, you tell me. If she hadn’t been on drugs we brought into the country, she’d still be alive. If she hadn’t been riding with us when the Kings attacked, she’d be alive. If she hadn’t been on a goddamned bike, she’d be alive. What does that say to you?”
Olivia nodded. “It makes a certain amount of sense. But it sounds like it was the result of her choices, not yours.”
Xander felt anger flare up in his belly. “Are you saying it was her fault?”
Olivia shook her head rapidly. “Of course not, Xander. Of course not. But she chose the life she wanted to live. She must have decided it was worth the danger. She knew the risks.”
He scoffed. “Really? ‘Cause I didn’t.” He cleared his throat. “I never expected it to happen. And I fucking grew up around it. So what does that say?”
Olivia said nothing.
Xander stared down at his feet, looking at the scuff marks on his shoes as he pushed the next sentences out of his mouth, trying to focus on anything other than the pain. “The only life I’ve known took away the life I wanted. So what the fuck am I supposed to do now?”
“Well, you could leave,” Olivia said, as if it was that fucking easy.
Xander had to bite down on his tongue to keep from yelling at her. God, how could she be so ignorant? “You don’t know the life,” he told her, “or you wouldn’t say that.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Olivia said. “But I’d like to know more, if you’d be willing to teach me.” She crossed and uncrossed her legs again, and Xander couldn’t help but stare between her thighs, into that sacred dark corner.
“You seem smart,” Xander said. “Maybe it’s just the glasses, but you come off like a smart lady. If you are, you’ll leave now and never come back. This place is death. It’s got nothing to offer somebody like you.”
Olivia stared at him for a moment. “With all due respect, Xander, you don’t know me. Yet.”
“Likewise,” Xander retorted.
“You’re right. I don’t know you,” Olivia admitted. “But I want to.”
Xander felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, tingling almost painfully. “Listen,” he began, his voice dropping to a gentler tone. “Listen, um, what happened today? I enjoyed it. A lot.”
Olivia smiled, this time looking sweet and shy, almost like a schoolgirl. “Yeah, me too. It was…really hot.”
“Yeah, it was. And, um, I’d like to do it again, you know? As much as possible, honestly, because you got…you got some good stuff going on under those little dresses,” Xander said, feeling a smile start to stretch across his face. Olivia opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off, feeling his smirk start to melt off as quickly as it had arrived. “But that’s as far as it goes, okay?”
“As far as what goes?” she asked, her face screwed up in confusion.
“This,” Xander said. “You and me. It can’t go beyond fucking, all right?”
Olivia looked away from him, seemingly glancing at the far wall, then the floor, then the window, then the door, before finally meeting his gaze again. “Yes. Of course. That makes sense. Otherwise it could interfere with my objectivity in helping you.”
“I mean, sure. I didn’t mean that, but yeah, whatever,” Xander said in agreement. “I just meant we can’t be boyfriend-girlfriend here, you know? It’s too dangerous.”
Olivia nodded slowly and crossed her legs again, pressing her knees together tightly. “I don’t really do that anyway, the dating thing. This works best for me.”
Xander was tempted to ask her why, pick apart her brain for a change, but he held himself back. “That’s good then,” he said instead, his voice hollow and distant-sounding.
“Good,” Olivia said, getting to her feet. “I have to be getting back. I have an early appointment tomorrow morning, at seven. But I’d like to come back soon and walk through your day with you.”
“Like, me telling you what I do every day?”
Olivia shook her head. “No, I mean me following along with you on your day. It’s important for me to get first-hand experience to help you gain insight into your problems.”
“Um, no, sorry, that’s not going to happen,” Xander said.
“And why is that?”
Goddamn, why is she so fucking stubborn? “Because you’d get in the way. I have a job to do. You’re here to make me better at that job, not worse.”
“I’m here to help you solve your problems. Your uncle may have hired me, but I’m here for you,” Olivia retorted.
“Then fucking listen to me, maybe!” Xander half-yelled, getting up from the couch and marching over to the kitchen for another drink. He was way overdue for one.
Olivia followed him, barely keeping a foot of distance between their bodies as they both stomped their way to the kitchen. “Do you want to feel this way? Do you want to feel shitty all the time?”
“What kind of fucking question is that?” Xander said as he grabbed another beer from his fridge.
“An honest one. I really want to know. Do you want to feel this way forever?”
“No!” he full-on shouted before cracking open his beer and draining half of it in one huge gulp. “No, I don’t want to fucking feel this way. Are you happy?”
Olivia didn’t say anything.
“I want to feel…less shitty. I don’t know. That’s what I want. But it doesn’t really matter because it’s not going to happen no matter how hard you try, Olivia.” It was the first time he’d said her name out loud, but it felt like he’d been saying it for years.
“What about how hard you try, Xander?” she shot back. “You’re right. I could sit here and analyze you until my eyes start bleeding, ‘til I keel over and die, and it won’t make a lick of difference if you don’t meet me halfway.”
Xander finished his drink and tossed it into the trash before heading back to the fridge and grabbing another one. He wanted to get fucked up, absolutely obliterated, until hopefully he forgot he ever had this conversation. “I don’t…I don’t even know how to start.”
“How to start trying?”
Xander shrugged, but he meant to say yes. I don’t know how to try to get better. I don’t even remember what it feels like anymore, to be okay. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.
“I can help you,” Olivia said, stepping closer until she could put a hand on his elbow. His skin itched, but he didn’t push her away. “I can help you,” she said again, “but only if you let me.”
“And what? Letting you help means letting you tag along on all my drug drops and arms deals?” he said, his voice rising again even as her fingers started stroking over the skin of his arm.
“It means listening to me,” she said.
“Well, how about you listen to me?” Xander shot back, pushing her away finally. “I’m not…I’m not getting another girl killed, okay? Can you just accept that?”
“I can take care of myself,” Olivia argued.
“Yeah, just like Marta did,” Xander whispered, taking another large sip of his new drink. “Forget it. Come back tomorrow night, and we’ll talk through the day, okay? That’s meeting you half-way.”
Olivia chewed on her bottom lip. “Are you sure I can’t—”
“Yes!” Xander interjected. “You’re not coming. End of story.”
She just nodded before leaning forward and taking his drink from his hand, bringing it up to her mouth to take a sizeable gulp. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said before turning around to go back down the stairs.
Xander sighed deeply. Finally, he had a victory over her. She let something go. It was good to know she was capable of it.
***
Olivia took her cell phone out of her purse on her way down the stairs, dialing a familiar number. “Hey, Mr. Brown, I’m afraid I have to cancel our appointment tomorrow. Would Friday morning work instead?”
Olivia had another appointment in the morning, after all. Xander just didn’t know it yet.