Ours to Love

Page 53


She bit her lip, and Javier knew exactly what she was going to say. He wanted to kill Brian, but didn’t dare interrupt London. She needed to get this out.

Xander had a little less restraint and growled beside him. “Stupid motherfucker.”

Totally true, but Javier elbowed him anyway. “Let her finish.”

“I’m sure you can guess. He saw my back. We had this super awkward conversation about my accident and the surgeries afterward. It was . . . clinical. And the day of our next date, he texted me to say that he didn’t think it was professional to date clients. When I showed up to my next training session, I’d been reassigned to this beautiful brunette who looked great in a bikini. I found out later that Brian started dating her shortly after he dumped me.”

Javier clenched his fists. Questions perched on the tip of his tongue. Maybe Brian hadn’t thought it smart to date clients after all, but he wasn’t going to give the asshole the benefit of the doubt. He would simply make London feel better by loving her.

“He wasn’t worth you, belleza.” Xander rose and approached her slowly.

Standing as well, Javier circled the other side of the coffee table and closed in on her. “If he couldn’t see the lovely woman underneath—”

“Stop! You think you like me. You think my face or boobs or whatever is nice. I’ve only let you see the best, but you seem to want to see it all. Fine, but don’t say another word until you’ve seen my worst.” She looked on the verge of tears, her nose reddening, her lips pressing together as she tried to hold them back. “Not even a sound. If you heap kind words on me and then decide you can’t handle all of me, it will hurt so much worse.”

That was never going to happen. And a part of Javier wanted to be angry that she’d cast him and Xander into Brian’s mold, but he reminded himself that she had no other experience. She’d met a shallow boy. Now, he intended to make sure she knew the difference between that and the men who loved her. A glance confirmed that he and Xander were absolutely on the same page.

Shoving down the reassurances he wanted to speak, Javier simply nodded. Beside him, Xander did the same.

“Thank you.” London drew in a bracing breath that shuddered instead. Then she walked to a patch of sunlight slanting through the window, glowing into the room, and reached for the zipper at her side.

Slowly, she drew it down, the zipper a soft hiss in the otherwise quiet air. Anticipation clawed Javier’s insides. His heart pounded. When it reached her hip and gaped open over the lush indentation of her waist, she brushed one strap off her shoulder. The other followed, and she pushed the dress beneath her breasts, revealing a lacy white demi-bra with clear straps. She unbuttoned the wrap-around bottom at her waist, and the white eyelet parted to reveal her thighs and the delta between. Javier swallowed, his mouth watering. He clenched his fists to keep himself from touching her. She needed to get this out, and he had to let her.

She pushed the dress down over her hips, revealing the fact that her white panties were small and inviting, and he hoped like hell it was a thong because he loved her ass. Next, she stripped off her shoes, setting them aside efficiently. A long pause followed. London gathered air and courage. Javier sent her an encouraging stare. He could see her body tensing, her heart beating madly at the base of her neck. Silence strangled the room.

Reaching behind her, she unhooked her bra and slid it down her arms. The instant her breasts came into view, Javier had to hold himself back. It had been less than two days since he’d been inside her, and it felt more like ten years. Beside him, Xander clenched his fists and stared at her as if he couldn’t wait to eat her up.

The panties came next as she hooked her thumbs in the waistband and drew the scrap of white fabric down over her thighs, past her knees, letting them puddle at her feet. London kicked them aside, and Javier zeroed in on the pink flesh of her slit, wanting his fingers there, his mouth. His cock. Yes, right there—always.

“You’re gorgeous.” Xander’s voice cracked. Not much rattled his brother, but Javier had no doubt he meant every word.

“More than beautiful,” he added. “I know you don’t want us to say that, but I can’t help telling you how lovely you are to me.”

“Please . . . let me finish.” Fear throbbed just under the surface of her façade. She tried so hard to be strong and brave, and he admired her for it.

And she would never believe that they would gladly lend her their strength every day for the rest of their lives until they passed this test.

“Sorry, little one. Go on.”

London took another long pause. “If you’re not ready or willing to accept this part of me, do one thing for me? Don’t give me any excuses. I can’t handle platitudes. Just leave the room and shut a door behind you. Then . . . I’ll know.”

Chapter Twenty-one

JAVIER blinked in shock. She imagined for a moment that either of them were going to abandon her without a word? Never. That would fucking never happen, ever. Beside him, Xander’s eyes widened. He was clearly grappling with the shock of that request every bit as much as he was.

But Xander had been telling him for months that being a Dom was about giving a sub what she needed. Right now, that was reassurance that he could be sensitive to her request, her fragility. That didn’t make him a patient man, however.

“If that’s the way you want it, fine. But no more hesitation, little one. Show us what’s ours now and let us . . .” Make you feel every bit as beautiful as you should. “Let whatever is going to happen, happen.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor. So automatic, it had to be unconscious. If Javier hadn’t already been so hard just seeing her naked and soft in front of him, that would have stiffened him instantly.

“Yes, Sir.”

Another deep breath. A willful lift of her shoulders. A trembling of her chin. Javier ached to touch her so badly.

With two steps she turned around, and he could see every inch of her bare back. She knelt, head bowed, exposing not just her body, but her soul. And, breath held, she waited.

Her skin bespoke the tragedy and pain she’d suffered. Deep gouges in jagged patterns zigzagged across her lower back, most a puckered pale pink. Other scars heaped on top, fresher, straighter. Surgery. Judging from the amount of incisions, more than one. Javier would ask her for details later, when she felt comfortable that the answers didn’t matter to them. Now wasn’t that time.


A glance at his brother showed tears glossing his eyes. Oh my God, he mouthed. And he ached for her agony. Javier wished he could take that from her, endure it for her. Xander obviously wished the same. But London’s past was part of what made her the woman who knelt before them now.

He nodded at Xander, agreeing with all the silent promise in his brother’s gaze to finish her healing and make her whole. They’d do it together.

As one, they dropped to their knees behind her. He couldn’t wait another moment to touch her. Neither of them could. She’d been broken and unsure, adrift and afraid. Now they had to put her together, lend her their conviction, and help her find her way home.

Cupping her left hip, he braced himself over her, breathing across her shoulders. Xander did something similar, and London’s breath caught on a little gasp. God, she’d really expected them to leave her. Eventually, they’d paddle her ass for that, once she was more secure. Once they could tease her about being so wrong. Now, she needed to know they were here for her.

He brushed his hand down her back, fingers slowing as he closed in on her injuries. He lingered over the tracework of her scars. One bisected another. He didn’t look, just felt. The one he followed now with a gentle touch had been deep and probably caused at least temporary nerve damage. A quick mental picture of her trapped in twisted metal, bleeding, crying, so young . . . Fuck, that hurt. He pressed his lips between her shoulder blades.

“On your hands and knees, belleza,” Xander demanded, his voice low but gentle.

Her shuddering cry tugged at his heart, but she did it, giving them a better angle to access the damage to her body. He saw it even more clearly as the sun illuminated her, bathing her in golden light. All he saw was the pain she’d endured and skin he wanted to kiss. He might not be able to make it better, but he could assure her that her heart mattered to him more than her scars.

Xander grabbed both her hips, angling directly behind her and lowered his lips to a deep gouge directly above her right cheek. Javier did the same on the left, brushing his lips across her pink and red scars, his tongue tracing one that must have bled so much and hurt so deep. London let loose another gasp, trembling, and he glanced around her to see her fingers digging into the beige carpet. She’d hung her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

And tears slid down her angelic face.

Javier’s heart squeezed in his chest. “Little one, don’t cry. You’re still so beautiful to us. You’re always going to be beautiful.”

“Forever,” Xander promised in between kisses. “These aren’t scars. They’re a testament to your strength. We’re so amazed by you. And so grateful for you.”

Damn, he was proud of his brother. Javier couldn’t have said it better himself.

London sobbed, her body shaking with each breath. And he’d had enough waiting. She’d spilled everything she needed to. Now it was their turn.

Still on his knees, Javier turned her around to kneel in their waiting arms. She raised stormy, vulnerable eyes to him, so wet and lost. He kissed her forehead. “Look at me and don’t look away.”

She nodded, clutching his shoulder with one hand and his brother’s with the other. “Yes, Sir.”

God, every time she said that was even more arousing than the last.

“I don’t need to see your scars. They aren’t important. They’re nothing. What I value—what I need—is your heart. Your soul. I love you.”

Her mouth fell open with a shocked, silent gasp.

Xander wrapped firm fingers around her chin and brought her gaze to him. “He took all the pretty words, rat bastard, but I think I looked at you dancing so freely on the stage just for the joy of being alive and realized what I’d been missing for years. I love you, too.”

Her chin quivered again, then a smile broke across her face. Joyous tears fell this time. Her fingers dug into him, then she brushed her gaze over his face. Her lips followed gently, a whisper. A silent promise. She gave Xander the same attention. “I didn’t know who I was or where I was or what I needed until you came and showed me the way. I love you both.”

So goddamn perfect, everything about her . . .

Together, he and Xander crushed her naked body against them. His brother quickly shed his T-shirt, then used his lips to climb wild kisses up her neck, her jaw, over to her lips. But Javier was doing the same, and they took turns caressing her lips, delving into her mouth, showing her with their kisses how much they worshipped her.

As Xander stole her succulent mouth away again, he nipped at London’s lobe. “Unbutton my shirt, little one.”

Her moan sprang free, but she raised her hands to his buttons as arousal began to undo her, and she touched his skin while she lost herself in Xander’s embrace.

The feel of her fingers on him nearly turned him inside out. He quickly lost patience, ripping the shirt open. Buttons pinged everywhere, and he didn’t give a shit. All that mattered was that he peeled the garment off, threw it across the room, then pressed his skin to hers, his fingers sweeping all the way down her back, from shoulder to hip, over smooth skin and scars, until he held the sweet handful against him.

“I feel so lucky,” she said finally when Xander let her up for air.

“So do we,” his brother assured.

London blinked, then shook her head. “You’re rich and gorgeous, sophisticated and charming. Powerful . . . You could have anyone.”

“He has,” Javier ribbed.”

“Shut the hell up,” Xander growled.

“Exactly. So why me?” She sounded so uncertain, and Javier knew only time and love would change that. And maybe a few other things they had up their sleeve.

Xander grabbed her face in his hands. “Everyone else was recreation. A way to pass time and kill boredom. They wanted my money or prowess or for me to look good at their side. They didn’t care about me. Or my brother. I didn’t look at them and finally understand the concept of home. Of family. I didn’t look at them and know where I belonged. Only you did that, belleza.”

Xander stole her lips again and sealed his bond with her. Reverent and urgent, until she pulled away panting, eyes glazed. Javier held in a grin, figuring that he’d better get his words out before they just didn’t care about talking anymore.

“And you thawed me, love.” He caressed her jaw, nudging her gaze back to him. “Our father was a cold bastard who embraced only duty and money, and he drilled that philosophy into me ruthlessly. I’d always believed that if I followed those, I’d have what I needed. Francesca was a mistake, and I knew it immediately. But it was my duty to stay married. I’d made a vow. After she was dead, I saw that she had everything money could buy, but not the one thing she truly craved. Fran was a needy creature. She wanted a love I didn’t know how to give, and once she was dead, I could only think that my ineptitude might as well have been the rope around her neck.”

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