Page 31 of The Live-In Temptation (Steele Brothers of Starlight Cove #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHLOE

It was almost one in the morning, and I was elbow-deep in banana bread batter. Which, by the way, was totally normal behavior.

It was just a craving. A whim. A sudden domestic urge that had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Xander’s bedroom light had turned off a little over an hour ago, or that mine had stayed on while I stared at the ceiling and pretended not to hear his voice echoing through my head.

Be my dirty girl…

Yeah, well. That dirty girl was currently stress-baking in his oversized sweatshirt, barefoot, with her hair piled on top of her head like a Pinterest fail, because lying in bed meant thinking. And thinking meant spiraling. And spiraling meant remembering .

Remembering exactly what it felt like to be pressed between Xander’s body and the cool tile wall of the bathroom at One Night Stan’s, with him so thick and hard inside me, his hands everywhere, his voice rough and low in my ear?—

I dropped the spoon with a clatter, muttering a curse as batter splashed over the bowl. “Jesus, Chloe. Get it together.”

I turned around to grab some chocolate chips—because banana bread was objectively better with them, and also because it gave me something to focus on that wasn’t the ache in my chest or the throb lower down that I was absolutely not acknowledging.

But instead of finding what I was looking for, I found him .

Xander stood in the doorway to the kitchen like a goddamn vision of regret and temptation. He leaned against the frame in a plain white T-shirt, his shoulders and biceps testing the limits of the seams, and gray sweatpants that certainly thought a lot of his junk.

Honestly, same.

His hair was mussed, and his eyes were locked on me like I was the temptation and he was ready to sin.

My mouth went dry. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”

“I could say the same to you.” His gaze dropped to my feet, then slowly traced up my bare legs, to the hem of his sweatshirt, his attention lingering briefly there. When he lifted his gaze to once again meet mine, his was molten. “Why are you baking at 1 a.m.? Do you need someone to tuck you in?”

A dozen images of him tucking me in flipped through my mind, and my knees almost buckled. I had to grip the counter just to keep from collapsing.

So. This was going well.

I breathed out a forced laugh and turned my back to him, focusing once again on the bowl of batter. “I had a craving for banana bread. You want some?”

“I want something,” he said, his voice low and rough.

My breath caught at his husky tone, and I couldn’t do anything but stand frozen, heart thudding, while I stared down at the batter like it held all the answers.

“What’s that?” I managed through a tight throat.

He didn’t answer right away, but suddenly, he was behind me.

No warning, just heat and muscle and him bracketing me against the counter, his hands on either side of my hips.

He was so close, his broad chest pressed against my back, my ass nestled into him, his cock unmistakable and not even pretending to be subtle.

He dipped his head, bringing his lips close to my ear. “What I want is to know how long you plan to keep avoiding me.”

I swallowed hard. “I’m…not avoiding you.”

“Uh-huh.” He nosed along my neck, his voice like gravel and smoke. “So that wasn’t you sprinting out of here this morning like your ass was on fire?”

“I had to be at the school early for the field trip,” I said defensively, heat rising in my cheeks at the utter lie. “You didn’t expect me to be late, did you?”

“I bet you didn’t expect to keep running into me,” he murmured. “First at the bar, then at the fire station. Now the kitchen.”

I glanced at him over my shoulder. “The kitchen is a shared space. And the others were clearly coincidences. Your family owns the bar. And you’re the fire chief—of course I’d see you at the station when I volunteered for the tour.”

“I don’t know. Sounds like a hell of a lot to be a coincidence.”

I scoffed, trying to keep my voice steady. “Yeah? Well, what about all those late-night run-ins when I first started? You didn’t say anything about those.”

He was quiet for a moment, but I felt him lean closer. Felt the heat of his body bracketing me, felt his breath against the shell of my ear, sending a shiver skating down my spine. “Because I was the one who kept making them happen.”

I exhaled a sharp, shocked breath and tightened my fingers on the counter. He’d said it so easily. Like it wasn’t a confession. Like it wasn’t a goddamn wrecking ball aimed straight at my carefully constructed walls.

“Are you ready to stop pretending, chaos?”

I parted my lips, but no sound came out.

Because yes, I was ready. I was so goddamn ready.

But admitting that meant admitting everything else too—that I wanted him.

That I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

That I was in over my head and worried I wouldn’t land on my feet when the inevitable fall came.

And it would come. It always did.

So I did the only thing I could. I lost myself in the moment.

I lost myself in Xander.

Turning in his arms, I grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt and pulled him down to my mouth. He came without hesitation, falling into the kiss like he was starving. Like he’d been underwater for too long and I was his first breath of fresh air.

I didn’t know how to do anything but kiss him back with the same urgency. The same desperation. The same need.

It was all teeth and tongues and roaming hands.

He shoved up my— his —sweatshirt, growling low when he found nothing but bare skin underneath.

And then he descended on my breasts, sucking first one nipple then the other into his mouth.

Feasting on them as if they were every one of his fantasies come to life.

“Been dreaming about what these perfect little tits looked like. How are they even better than that?” He sucked hard, tugging one nipple with his teeth as he stared up at me. “How is the real you better than my dreams, chaos?”

He didn’t wait for me to answer—and thank god for that because my speaking capacity was somewhere in the range of mmphf .

He just yanked down my shorts, lifted me onto the counter as if I weighed nothing, and laid me out on top.

Then he stood in front of me, his gaze raking over every naked inch he’d uncovered, while he stood there, fully clothed, something dark and hungry in his eyes.

“You better be sure about this, because as soon as you say yes, I’m going to eat this sweet little cunt until you forget your own name.”

Oh. My. God . Just his words made my clit throb, my pussy pulsing around absolutely nothing. So damn desperate for him.

I bit my lower lip and nodded, needing him to give me everything .

He braced himself on either side of my shoulders and leaned over me until our faces were inches apart, his eyes dark and intense. “What did I tell you about giving me the words?”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

“There’s my dirty girl,” he said, satisfaction ringing in his tone. A stool scraped across the floor as he pulled one closer and sat down, his face directly in line with my pussy. “Now, spread those legs, baby. Let me taste what’s mine.”

Sweet sparkling Moses, I just about came from that claim alone. And for some reason—for some unknown reason—I did exactly as he told me to. I parted my thighs, making room for the wide breadth of his shoulders as he hooked his arms under my legs and dove in.

He swiped his tongue through my slit. Slowly.

Deliberately. Like he had all the time in the world to savor me.

It was so at odds with that first time. And why did it feel like he was trying to commit the taste of me to memory?

Like he’d waited too fucking long for this and wasn’t about to waste a second?

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound vibrating against me, sending pleasure straight to my core. “You taste so fucking good. You better hold on, chaos, because I’m about to make a mess.”

He flattened his tongue and licked a broad path from entrance to clit, then circled it once…twice…before capturing it with his lips. He sucked it into his mouth like he fully intended to drag every single moan out of my throat whether I wanted to give them to him or not.

It didn’t matter what I wanted because I had no hope of staying quiet. Not with Xander’s mouth on me. Thank god Emma was a deep sleeper so she wouldn’t hear my whimpers. Wouldn’t hear me repeating her daddy’s name while he drove me halfway to ecstasy with just his tongue.

I threaded my fingers through his hair and tugged hard, trying to anchor myself to something— anything —as he devoured me like a man starved. He didn’t stop. Didn’t ease up. Just kept eating me out like my pussy had personally wronged him and the only way to punish it was with pleasure.

“Xander… Oh my god, this feels so good.” I gasped, then moaned low and deep, my hips rolling, seeking, as I held him to me.

He pulled back just enough to rasp, “There you go, baby. Ride my face just like that. Show me how bad you need to come.”

And Jesus, I did. Needed it desperately.

So I rocked against him like I was possessed, chasing that white-hot high as he fucked me with his tongue, his nose bumping my clit with each thrust. Then he replaced his tongue with his fingers, sinking two deep inside before sucking my clit into his mouth and pushing me that much closer to the edge as my pussy pulsed, so desperate for release.

But it was the growl against my flesh—that low, animalistic sound that set every nerve ending I had on fire—that sent me flying.

I shattered, coming apart against his mouth and crying out his name like it was the only word I knew…the only word I remembered.

But even as bliss overcame me, he didn’t stop. Didn’t pull away. Didn’t let up.

He licked me through that orgasm and straight to the next. Adding a third finger and making me so wet, I felt my pleasure dripping down my thighs and my ass, no doubt making a mess on the counter beneath me.

Just like he’d promised.

He held me down and kept licking, coaxing a third climax from me, my body trembling and boneless. Completely wrecked as I lay panting on the counter, like a girl who’d just had her entire world turned inside out.

As he sat back on the stool, his lips coated in my pleasure, his beard wet with me, he looked absolutely feral. And I knew.

He was only getting started.