Page 4

Xenobia

I felt his eyes on me before I opened mine, lurking in the corner of my bedroom like some brooding statue. I stretched unhurriedly, pretending I had the luxury of him not being here, though my skin prickled with awareness. What had happened after he’d ordered me to my room like a child? His jaw was clenched tight, dark circles rimming his eyes. Something must have gone wrong. But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of asking.

I padded to my vanity, the cold marble floor shocking my bare feet. In the mirror, I caught a glimpse of Adonis’s reflection—stoic and watchful as always. A muscle in his cheek twitched before he averted his gaze.

“You gonna stand there all day or what?” I snapped, running a brush through my tangled curls. “Why are you even in here?”

He ignored me and remained silent, infuriatingly so. Fine. Two can play that game.

I went about my morning routine, hyperaware of his presence but refusing to acknowledge it. He would only be in my room for one reason. Someone had made a move, and he didn’t trust anyone else to ensure I was safe except him. A part of me felt violated that he’d been in here, probably watching me as I slept. And yet, the traitorous part of me welcomed his protective presence. I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t deny the feeling of safety he brought. Damn him.

I needed an escape, however brief. Snatching up my phone, I tapped my best friend Damara’s name, desperate for a dose of normalcy. I walked out of my room and down the hall toward the library.

“Hey, girl, hey.” Damara greeted me when she picked up on the fourth ring.

I immediately huffed into the receiver. “Hey, girl. You will not believe the morning I’m having.”

“Oh Lord, here we go. You’re lucky I’m literally about to get my latte. Is this about you know who?”

Knowing we were on the same page, I launched into a rant about Adonis, my words dripping with annoyance. “He’s just always there, y’know? Breathing down my damn neck, watching my every move like a trained hawk. It’s so fucking suffocating I could scream.”

Damara’s amusement tinkled through the phone. I cut my eyes at Adonis standing in the doorway, wondering if he could hear me. His expression gave nothing away. I didn’t give a fuck if he did.

“Would it kill him to crack a smile occasionally?” I continued. “Or, I don’t know, have an actual conversation that doesn’t end in the words I’m here to protect you ?”

But even as the complaints poured out like hot lava, I felt the undercurrent of something else. Something I wasn’t ready to examine too closely. The way my pulse quickened when he was near. How I found myself seeking him out, despite my protests.

I shook my head, banishing those dangerous thoughts. “Anyway, enough about my grumpy ass bodyguard. Tell me something good, Mara. I need a juicy distraction.”

“You know you called the right one for that.”

As Damara launched into a story, I caught Adonis’s gaze. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of… hurt? Regret? But then it was replaced by his usual melanated mask of indifference. I turned away, Damara’s voice fading to background noise as my mind whirled. What game were we playing, Adonis and me? More importantly, which of us would emerge as the victor, and what would become of the loser?

Damara’s voice cut through my swirling thoughts, laced with a teasing upswing in her tone. “Oh, come on, Nobi. Tell the truth. You weren’t even listening to anything I just said. You were thinking about him, weren’t you? You can’t fool me. All this complaining about Adonis? Sounds like somebody’s still got a little crush.”

I nearly choked on my spit. “What? No. Is your latte laced with crack? That’s ridiculous. He was Santo’s best friend, for God’s sake. And a pain in my fucking ass if you haven’t noticed.”

“Mm-hmm,” Damara hummed, unconvinced. “Whatever lies you tell yourself are between you and God, honey. But I’ve known you too long. You complain too damn much about somebody you claim you don’t care about.”

I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn’t see me. “Whatever, Mara. You’re delusional if you think I’m thinkin’ about that nigga.”

But her words had stirred something in my gut, a fluttery sensation I didn’t want to name. I glanced at Adonis again, taking in the thick beard wrapped around his chiseled jaw and the intensity in his soulless brown eyes. My thighs clenched. Dammit.

“Anyway,” I retorted with an eye roll, desperate to change the subject. “Tell me about that guy you met last week. Any updates?”

Damara laughed, a sound so carefree it made my heart ache. “Oh, girl. You should see him. Those tattooed arms, that cocaine-white smile… I swear, if he weren’t so damn sweet, I’d think he was out of my league.”

I smiled, genuinely happy for her. “That’s great, Mara. You deserve it. I can hear you cheesing through the phone.”

I felt a pang of longing as she gushed about her new man. Not for her guy but for the freedom she had. The ability to date, to fall in love without the weight of family expectations crushing her soul with every breath.

We met in the distinguished halls of St. Mary’s Academy for Girls, where it was said that legacies were born and future leaders were bred. We were sixteen, which was a hard time to forge friendships—genuine ones, at least. Despite the dark shadows and rumors about my family’s affiliation with the mafia and my father’s ruthless reputation, Damara Thorpe didn’t shy away. She was my roommate and heir to her family’s financial empire, Thorpe Financial.

Like me, she was dressed in designer and had her future curated by her wealthy parents since she took her first breath. Though from different worlds, we understood what it meant to carry the weight of our family’s legacies. To escape, I found solace in art, while she found hers in literature and boys.

As the semesters stretched on, our connection strengthened. The Thorpe estate was the only place my father allowed me to go during spring breaks because Damara had bodyguards for protection. That didn’t stop us from spending the afternoons riding horses and sneaking out through the garden late at night to meet up with boys from the city.

Our friendship became the exception to the rule, sprouting an authentic connection that transcended my mafia ties and her financial wealth. She was the only one I could vent my frustrations to and the only one I trusted with my secret about my past with Adonis.

“God, I wish I could just… run far away sometimes, you know?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “Just be normal for a day. No bodyguards, no family legacy. Just... plain ‘ol me.”

Her voice softened on the other end. “Oh, Nobi. I know, babe. But hey, maybe one day, right? We’ll take that girls’ trip we’ve always talked about. No mafia, no drama. Just us living our best lives.”

I managed to chuckle, but it was hollow. “Yeah, maybe. Someday. I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

As I hung up, the tension in my muscles returned. I caught Adonis’s gaze again, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of concern in those dark, brooding eyes. But then it was gone, and I was left wondering if I’d imagined it all.

I stabbed at my penne pasta, the fork scraping against the fine China with an irritating screech. Adonis sat across from me, quietly eating. As usual, my father was away on business and wouldn’t join us. The dining room felt too big and empty, amplifying every clink of silverware and frustrated sigh.

“So,” I paused, breaking the quiet, “did you enjoy eavesdropping on my conversation earlier today? Learn anything juicy about Damara’s new boo?”

Adonis’s eyes flickered up from his plate, his face emotionless. “I don’t eavesdrop, Xenobia. I observe. And for the record, I don’t give a fuck about your phone conversations.”

I scoffed. “Right. Because observing is so much better.” I jabbed at the pasta aggressively, red sauce splattering onto the fresh, white tablecloth. “Tell me, oh great observer, what deep insights have you collected about me today?”

He calmly set down his fork, his gaze steady. “You’re upset.”

I scoffed. “No shit, Sherlock,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “What gave it away? The sarcasm or the death glares?”

To my surprise, Adonis leaned forward slightly instead of bristling, his voice softening. “You want to know what happened six years ago but refuse to ask. You want to tell me to fuck off, but you can’t. Tell me, Nobi, why is that?”

His words hit too close to home, and I felt my walls rising. “Spare me the psychoanalysis, nigga. You don’t know shit about me.”

“Don’t I?” he challenged, and for a moment, his eyes held love in them. It knocked me off my square.

I pushed back my chair, its legs screeching against the floor. “You know what you’re paid to know. You’re not entitled to anything else. Not to get to know me, not to do that… that thing you’re doing. So just learn how to do your fucking job from a distance.”

As I stomped away, I heard his quiet reply: “I know more than you think, Xenobia. And I care more than you realize.”

I froze on the other side of the dining room wall, my heart pounding. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

I stormed into my art studio, slamming the door behind me. The smell of turpentine and oil paints hit me like a wave, familiar and comforting. I grabbed a fresh canvas, slapping it onto the easel more forcefully than necessary.

My hands shook as I squeezed paint onto my palette—maroon, black, and deep purple—colors I associated with rage and frustration. I began painting, not knowing what I was creating. It didn’t matter. I just needed to get my feelings out of me and onto the canvas.

“Fuck Adonis,” I muttered, jabbing my brush at the canvas. “Fuck this whole messed-up family.”

As I painted, the tension in my body slowly lightened. The world narrowed to just me, the brush, and the canvas. No expectations. No danger. No infuriatingly observant bodyguard. I lost track of time, letting the painting consume me. Gradually, a figure emerged from the chaos—a black couple, their faces obscured, arms reaching toward one another but just out of reach. I was so absorbed I didn’t hear the door open.

“Interesting piece.” Adonis’s deep voice startled me. I whirled around with my paintbrush brandished like a weapon.

“Jesus, Adonis. Don’t you know how to fucking knock?”

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “I did. Twice. You were…. preoccupied.”

I stared him down, extremely aware of the paint smeared across my hands and probably my face. “What do you want?”

His eyes scanned the room, ever vigilant. “Checking the perimeter. I know you love it here, but this studio has too many floor-to-ceiling windows. You’re too exposed. It’s not safe.”

I rolled my eyes. “Right, because art supplies are such a hot commodity for assassins. Besides, you follow me around like a stray cat, so I think I’m fine here.”

“Your safety isn’t a joke to me, Xenobia,” he said sternly.

“And what about my sanity?” I shot back. “Which I’m quickly losing, by the way, thanks to your constant hovering.”

Adonis took a step closer, his presence filling the small but spacious studio. “I’m here to protect you.”

I rolled my eyes as a loud groan escaped my lips. “Don’t you know any other words, or have you not been programmed to say anything else? All you talk about is protection and safety. It’s like you’re a fucking machine, Adonis. Tell me what the fuck you’re protecting me from! The Toussaint boogeyman? Or just living my own damn life?” I challenged. “Because right now, I don’t see any threats, just an asshole from my past who keeps interfering with what I want to do in the present. So either prove that this threat is real or get the fuck out of my way.”

I stood my ground as Adonis approached, although my heart was bucking against its reins. His dark and unreadable eyes locked onto mine. Without warning, he reached out, his calloused thumb gently wiping a smudge of paint from my cheek before his hand flattened on my skin. His eyes looked at my lips before meeting my gaze.

“You’ve got some paint…” he murmured, his touch igniting a fire under my skin.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. My body screamed to lean into his touch, but my pride kept me frozen in place.

“Don’t,” I whispered, hating how weak my voice sounded.

Adonis’s hand lingered, his fingers tracing the edge of the scar on my cheek. “Xenobia…”

I jerked away, my paintbrush clattering to the floor. “I said don’t!”

He stepped back, hands raised. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” I snapped, but my anger felt hollow. Empty. “Just… just go, Adonis. Please.”

He nodded once, his face a mask again. As he turned to leave, I saw anger on his face. I collapsed onto my stool, hands shaking.

What the hell was that?

Later that night, I tossed and turned in bed, Adonis’s fiery touch haunting me. When sleep finally came, it was irregular and filled with wild dreams and flashbacks of our past—two days before everything changed.

I stepped into the pool house, eager to find a private place to paint. Instead, I found Adonis. His brown orbs blazed as he looked at me. It was strange because I’d never seen him look at another woman that way. And I had seen him look at so many women over the years.

He’d just never looked at me.

Not like that, anyway.

Not like he saw me as a grown woman and not as Santo’s annoying baby sister. It set something aflame in me. It felt like my insides were molten lava—hot and flowing. The tiny scrap of turquoise material between my thighs grew damp as I squirmed against it.

His eyes darted downward as if he could somehow sense what was going on in my body, and the tip of his tongue shot out to lick his bottom lip.

Slowly, he let his eyes travel back up to mine. “That bikini is almost indecent,” he acknowledged.

Looking down at my feet, I blushed. “Sorry. I’ll grab a cover-up and—”

He shook his head. “Nah. Don’t cover up on my behalf. You look good in it, all grown up and shit.”

There was something in his voice that made my head jerk up. My shoulders snapped back, pushing my C-cup breasts out a little further. His eyes automatically zeroed in on them. “I am grown up, Donny. I’ve been officially legal for two months now. You just never noticed.”

He rubbed his nape. It was his turn to blush. “Oh, I’m noticing now, Nobi.”

“Good.” I didn’t know what else to say. It wasn’t like I had worn the bikini for him—well, not entirely. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I was trying to find a place to paint and didn’t know anyone was in the pool house. Bighead never said anything, and I don’t wanna disturb you.”

Grabbing my towel, I started to walk past him when Adonis grabbed my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. “Or you could stay and keep me company,” he suggested, his cinnamon-scented breath wafting past my nose.

Turning my head slowly, I met his eyes. Was he asking what I thought he was asking? Or was he trying to be friendly? It was impossible to know unless I asked. Unless I—

I turned my body into his. My hands were flat on his hard abs. “Do you want me to stay, Donny?”

He glanced down at my hands briefly before lifting his gaze back to my eyes. “Yeah.”

Adonis breathed in as I stepped closer to him. We weren’t quite touching, but we were close. I didn’t want to come on too strong, but I didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding either. “Stay,” he insisted as one warm, rough hand slid across my hip. Adonis drew me to him. Hard. So hard that my breasts crushed against his chest and spilled upward, threatening to spill over the triangles of my bikini top. “Keep me—”

I surged upward, cutting off his sentence as my lips smashed into his. He let out a howl and whipped his head back, quickly drawing his fingers to his lips.

“Shit,” I hissed. “I’m really sorry.” Embarrassment flooded me. I had just made his lip bleed. “I’m gonna go.” I tried to detangle myself from his arms, but Adonis tightened his grip.

“I’m fine,” he promised with a chuckle. “I kinda like your eagerness, but let’s start this slower.” His fingers closed around my chin and tilted my face up to his.

His first kiss was gentle. His full lips were soft and yielding at first, but then he deepened the kiss. His tongue played over my bottom lip, asking me for access to my mouth, to my tongue, to me. The answer was yes to everything.

With a moan that vibrated through my chest, I gave it to him. Reaching up on my tiptoes, I wrapped my arms around his neck and thrust my tongue into his warm, wet mouth. I couldn’t believe I was kissing Adonis Cardelo. It didn’t feel real; it was more like a dream than anything else.

The hand on the small of my back darted downward to squeeze my ass, and I moaned again. I wasn’t just kissing him; I was making out with him. It was like all my teenage daydreams had finally come true. If I could go back and tell the old me that this would happen, I probably wouldn’t believe me.

It was happening, though, and it was making me so wet I thought I might drip. I’d never been so turned-on from kissing before, but then again, I had never kissed him before. The hand on my ass moved upward, his fingertips tickling over my ribs to brush against the underside of my breasts. His kiss deepened for a second, and then he slowly pulled his face away. Greedily, I reached for him again. He shook his head slightly. His brown orbs searched my face like he was waiting for me to say something. I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was too breathless for words, and my mind was too dick dizzy to form a complete sentence.

“Shit.” He cursed, but it sounded more like a plea for control as his hand covered my breast and squeezed, kneading it in his hand. The look on his face told me he was as shocked as I was that this was happening. Still, I closed my eyes, letting the tingling sensations flow through me.

His lips found my jawline and slowly traveled across my throat. He lathered the swell of my breasts with his mouth, his tongue teasing under the material to touch the edge of my diamond-hard nipple.

It was almost too much. Loosening my grip on him, I reached for the ties of my bikini. Two tugs and the material fell, baring my ample breasts for him. Adonis didn’t hesitate. He cupped my naked breasts in his hands and sucked one chocolate-colored nipple into his mouth after another.

My nipples continued to harden, straining against his long tongue as he licked and sucked them. I grabbed at his broad shoulders to steady myself.

“You have some beautiful fuckin’ titties, Nobi. I could suck on them for hours, but…” The hand that held me to him slid back to my hips. His fingers worked the knots that held my bikini bottom together at the sides. He made short work of untying them. The scrap of material fell almost instantly, but instead of letting it drop to the floor, he caught it up and brought it to his face, breathing in the scent of my arousal as his eyes met mine.

I sucked in a breath. Why the hell was that so sexy?

“You soaked these,” he murmured. There was so much heat in his baritone voice that I felt my pussy cream on the spot.

I stood in front of him, totally exposed. It should’ve been embarrassing, but it wasn’t. How could I be embarrassed when he was looking at me with so much heat and lust in his eyes?

Adonis wanted me as much as I wanted him.

I let my hand wander over my body without thinking about what I was doing. Taking my time, I cupped my breasts in my hands before slowly skimming across my flat stomach and dipping them between my satiny, caramel thighs. I sank two fingers inside me easily. I was so fucking wet, and it was all thanks to him.

Adonis’s eyes followed my rhythmic movement as my lips parted to speak. “Other places taste good as well.” Wantonly, I lifted my hand to my lips and sucked the two fingers into my mouth, tasting myself on them.

“Share.” He grunted, pulling my fingers from my mouth and sliding them into his. His eyes closed. “Again.” As I guided my hand back between my thighs, his fingers joined mine in teasing at the entrance of my water park.

I whimpered with desire.

“I want to do nasty fuckin’ things to you, Nobi,” Adonis admitted while dragging his fingers across my aching, hairless pussy before pushing one deep inside me until he couldn’t go any further.

“Do you?” I asked innocently, although I already knew the answer. I could see the outline of his dick through his navy blue swim trunks. I reached for it, tracing it through the slinky material.

He groaned, grabbing my hand. “Yes.” He pressed my hand against him, moving it up and down. “You want that, too, don’t you?”

I flashed a devious smirk up into his face. What a stupid question. Of course, I wanted it. He must’ve been blind if he hadn’t noticed how much I’d always liked him.

“Yes,” I answered, hooking my fingers into the waistband of his trunks before sinking to my knees on the hard tile floor. Lifting my eyes to him, I smiled. “Let me show you how much.”

His eyes followed me down as his swim trunks fell to his ankles. I reached for him, curling my warm palm around the base of his erection, and squeezed. Slowly, I began to move my hand up and down. My tongue played over my lips, wetting them. We both knew what was coming. I couldn’t wait to wrap my cherry-flavored lips around the thick, one-eyed monster staring back at me.

A bolt of electricity flowed through me as I licked the length of him—all nine inches and the mushroom-shaped tip. The deep, guttural moan that tore its way out of his mouth was more a growl than anything else. Glancing upward, I saw him smile. That was when I realized he liked everything I was doing to him.

My lips opened into a wide O-shape as I ducked my mouth over the head. I suctioned my lips around his girth as I took him to the back of my throat and held it there.

“Fuck, you look so fuckin’ good like that,” he growled, palming the back of my head.

I bobbed up and down, sucking short and soft before swallowing him down like I was a parched woman in the middle of the desert, and his cum was the only thing I wanted to drink. It was bliss. It was hot as fuck. It was my very first time.

“Let me see you touch yourself,” Adonis declared.

He kept a firm grip on the back of my head, ensuring none of my loose curls fell over my face and obscured his view. He pinched one of my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. I gasped with pleasure.

“Play with your clit, Nobi. Sink a finger into that wet ass pussy,” he demanded.

I did what he asked without him having to ask again. My body moved slowly against my hand. I moved my mouth in time with it, so it was almost like I was fucking him and not the finger that was buried deep inside my pussy.

Yanking at my arm, Adonis pulled my fingers up to his mouth and tasted them in turn. I knew my taste turned him on by the way his dick swelled against my tongue. Pulling the length of his erection from my mouth, he jerked it for a few seconds.

“Tongue out,” he commanded as a drop of precum seeped from the tip. “Taste.”

I watched his eyes roll back as my tongue ran over the head. I smirked when a little moan of enjoyment tumbled from his lips. It was innocent but animalistic all at the same time. Adonis hooked his strong hands underneath my arms and pulled me to my feet before he kissed me.

He lifted me into his arms, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist as he inched toward the bedroom. Each step was torture. I ground against his erection with needy hip jerks until he couldn’t take it anymore. He stopped mid-stride and slammed me against the nearest wall.

His mouth hungrily claimed mine as he reached between our bodies. The tip of his erection slipped up to my entrance quickly, but he had to work for the rest of it. I was a virgin, and my pussy was airtight and wetter than water. I gasped as my world fractured into a mosaic of pain and pleasure. As badly as I wanted to enjoy the moment, the angle was all wrong.

“Fuck, this pussy is so fuckin’ tight,” he groaned, his voice laced with a raw edge of possession. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t stop. Keep going.”

Bending his knees, Adonis pushed upward. There was a moment of searing discomfort, a barrier giving way, but then he was fully seated within me, and everything clicked into place. It was right—our connection, our union. A grunt fell from his lips as he filled me completely. For a second, neither of us could move. The pain felt good as if he’d been made perfectly for me. I wiggled against him, and he buried himself inside me further when I thought that was impossible.

Adonis snaked his body in and out of me with the kind of passion that I didn’t think was possible. I clung to his muscles, my nails leaving little crescent-shaped indents in his skin. Our lips came together as hard as our bodies.

A moan slipped past my lips. “Yes. Yes. Don’t stop, Adonis,” I whispered.

Sweat coated us, making our bodies slip and slide against each other, but nothing was wetter than the junction between my thighs. I felt my juices coating him, dripping down his thighs.

It was all because of him. Adonis had me so turned-on. My pussy spasmed and then clenched around his girth. I carelessly tossed my head back against the wall and screamed.

“Fuck, Adonis! Fuck!”

Adonis quickly covered my mouth, muting my pleasure-filled moans. He replaced his hand with his lips, stifling the long, drawn-out whimpers with his name thrown in. I came hard and fast, a constant flow of contractions around Adonis’s throbbing dick.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he thrust into me once more. “Fuck.”

His hips jerked back and forth as he filled me with his seed.

“Shit,” he growled before catching my lips with his again, only this time, his kiss was softer. “You made my pull-out game trash.”

I giggled, while still trying to catch my breath as he eased me back to my feet. “It’s okay. I’m on the pill,” I explained. “So that means we can do it… as much as we like.”

Adonis smirked as he put on his swim trunks. “You were amazing.”

I leaned against him, resting my cheek against his pounding heart. I was sore in the best ways, but I’d take the pain again if I knew it would lead to that kind of mind-blowing pleasure at the end. “Yeah. It was fun.”

He bent forward and kissed the top of my sweaty forehead. “Fun? Yeah, it was definitely that.” I tried to step away, but he grabbed me. “Hey, where you goin’?”

“Shower and then painting by the pool,” I answered, feeling his eyes glued to my ass as I sauntered away. I glanced over my shoulder. “You can join me if you like.”

I awakened with a gasp, sheets tangled around my legs, my skin glowing and pussy tingling.

“Fuck,” I groaned, burying my face in my pillow.

This is bad. This is so, so bad.

“Remember why you hate him, Nobi. Remember,” I whispered into the darkness.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but Adonis’s handsome face was etched behind my eyelids. Even in the dream, his touch felt more real than anything else in my life. I rolled over, kicking off the sweat-damp sheets.

“Jesus,” I panted, my heart hammering against my ribs.

I fumbled for the bedside lamp, desperate to chase away the shadows and for Adonis to sit in the corner, ready to rush to my side and hold me as the memories subsided. But he wasn’t there. I heard rustling outside my door and could sense he was out there, probably contemplating whether to come in or not. Part of me wanted him to.

In the harsh light, I stared at my trembling hands. What the hell was wrong with me? Adonis was my bodyguard, my protector. Nothing more. He couldn’t be anything more. But I knew I was lying to myself, even as I thought it. The way my skin burned at his touch, the electricity that crackled between us... it was more than just friendly affection.

“You’re fucked, Xenobia,” I muttered, running a hand through my long, tangled hair.

How was I supposed to face him, knowing I couldn’t hide my feelings forever? As the adrenaline faded, exhaustion crept back in. I left the light on as I lay back down, afraid of what other forbidden thoughts might be waiting in the dark. Tomorrow, I’d have to figure out how to deal with this mess. But for now, all I wanted was dreamless sleep.