Chapter 23
It was organized chaos, but even he had to admit—his office was a paper shitstorm. Tobias would have a heart attack if he ever saw it.
The second meeting with Chad Hennessy had been promising, but the guy wanted more figures, and detailed projections of business growth. He wanted a business plan that went far deeper than the one Xavier had presented him with. The guy must have been a few years older than him, maybe around Tobias’s age, and seemed to have a better handle on the rules and regulations of doing business in overseas. Xavier needed him, more than that, he needed his investment.
He set to work, trying to put a solid plan together but, with the way his office was—what with paper everywhere and things filed out of order—he was having a hard time getting the invoices and orders from the past. He needed to do it within the next day or two, because Chad wanted to see him again a few days after Thanksgiving.
So when he set to work and then his buzzer sounded not long after, loud and angry like a bee, he ignored it at first. Hardly anyone came to his place unannounced. But when it sounded again, and kept on buzzing, he threw his pen down and pressed the intercom.
“Yes?”
He heard the sniffling first, before he heard her voice. And she sounded upset. “Xavier, it’s me,” she sounded upset. “Can we talk?”
Gisele?
He wiped his hand over his forehead. What did she want? He hadn’t had a word from her since before Tobias’s wedding, and she hadn’t returned the few calls he’d made after. And now she was here. “I’m kind of busy.”
She sniffled some more. His muscles tightened, and he hated that she had come to him. Obviously, without a doubt, with 100% certainty, she needed something, but he didn’t have time to be there for her.
“Please, Xavier.”
He straightened up and blew out a breath wondering how to deal with her quickly. High drama was not what he needed right now.
He pressed the button, giving her access to the communal door below, and waited. Quicker than he would have liked, she was at his door, banging on it, and he opened it quickly to find her standing there, her face red and splotchy.
“Why are you crying?” She was wrapped up in a bright yellow faux fur coat that looked two sizes too big on her.
“You won’t believe what they did,” she cried, and with drama befitting an actress of her caliber, she fell into him, dramatically, and clung to his chest. He had to pry her off him, slowly.
“What did they do?”
“They halted production on the film,” she sniffled. “I was supposed to start filming in two weeks’ time, but they’ve stopped everything until further notice.”
It took him a moment to process what she was saying, primarily because he didn’t give a shit. “And what do you want me to do about it?”
She looked at him with a teary face. “I didn’t know who else to go to.”
What did she want? Comfort? A hug? A screw? “I’m in the middle of something.” He lifted his hands up in irritation. For a moment it seemed as if she was going to launch herself at him.
“You usually cheer me up,” she sniffled.
“We split up, remember? Before my brother got married?”
“I’m sorry it happened like that. I’m sorry. I was excited about my casting.” She sunk her fingers into the fur collars of her coat. “You don’t understand. It’s a huge deal for me.”
“What do you want me to do about it?”
“Cheer me up! I want to talk to someone. I want to talk to you.” She moved towards him, rolling into his chest with that mammoth fur ball of a coat, and burrowed her face into his chest. His arms stayed limp by his sides.
Two months of celibacy were about to be dropped to the side. He felt himself hardening, knowing how good she felt. Her mouth, her hands, her everything. His hands fisted, as he tried to forget that he hadn’t had a woman’s touch for weeks. He fought against the cells in his body which seemed ready to rejoice.
“Xavier,” she murmured, squeezing her body against his tightly. He couldn’t hold back any longer, and his arms moved around her, sinking into the soft yellow fur. Her arms encircled his waist as she stared up at him with hopeful eyes. “I’ve missed you.”
It was tempting, feeling her warm, soft body against his, looking down into that pretty little face, full lips and those ridiculously long and very fake eye-lashes.
She tip-toed up, as if to kiss him, but he was still weighing up what to do, torn in the inferno of his dilemma. She took the split-second of hesitation as a confirmation of his approval, and her hands moved to the elasticated waist of his lounge pants. He sighed, then exhaled even louder when her hand moved over the front, feeling, and stroking and gliding over the thick, stretchy fabric. Unlike jeans, his lounge pants were flimsy, and didn’t hide his tented front as well. She knew, of course she knew how excited he was.
His breathing turned faster when her fingers slipped into his briefs and she reached for him.
Her eager fingers on his naked skin drew every drop of blood south.
Fuck.
He shot to attention, felt the familiar stirring in his loins. Hungered for the kind of filthy, dirty sex he’d been dreaming off for months.
A frustrated groan caught in his throat, and it took all of his might to reach down and pull her hand away. A loud, sorry gasp left his lips, a sigh of huge disappointment.
“No,” he growled, low and hoarse.
“Why not?” She reached for him again.
“No.” This time more forceful. He seized her hand, preventing her from dipping further, and stepped away. What in the world was he doing? They could have had a few hours of the type of sex that left sweat-streaked bodies and a room smelling musty and stale. A good couple of hours of the best, mind-boggling, dirty, grown-up fun.
And nobody would have known.
Not Luke.
Not Izzy.
Hell, Izzy didn’t even know about the bet, let alone give a shit what he was doing with Gisele.
“Xavier.” It was breathless, the way her voice sounded, his name rolling off her tongue. “What’s wrong with you?”
“This isn’t happening.”
“Why not?” She slapped her palms flat against his chest. Then, stepping back in surprise, “Who is she?”
He shook his head. “There isn’t anyone.”
“You liar. You liar!” her voice turned high, almost like a shriek.
“There isn’t,” he insisted. “This guy, the producer, is it the same guy who wanted you to wear a bikini to the interview?”
“As if you care.”
“I do. Was it?”
“No. That’s a different guy. And I’m on the shortlist, thanks for asking.”
He swiped his hands through his hair, then intertwined them, resting then palms around the back of his head. Gisele’s gaze swooped to his arms, before she ran her gaze all over him.
“You’re still going ahead with it, even now, with all these scandals coming out of Hollywood?”
“Sometimes you have to do stuff to get what you want.”
“How far would you go?”
“As far as I have to.”
He frowned, thinking how little he knew her. “I’m busy, Gisele. I have to get something ready for an important meeting.”
She stared at his body again, the way she used to, her gaze moving over him, slow and hungry. “You sure you don’t want to … ?”
“I’m sure.”
She shrugged, and walked towards the door, and left.
There were days when he was sure his dick couldn’t handle such a prolonged absence from sex.