Page 58 of X Marks the Stalker (The Hemlock Society #1)

“Finally!” Zara claps her hands together. “I get to meet the man who’s got my best friend sneaking around and blushing at text messages.”

Xander slides into the seat beside me, his thigh pressing against mine under the table. His presence seems to reshape the entire space, like gravity shifting.

“You must be Zara,” he says, extending his hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Zara replies, shaking his hand while giving me a pointed look. “Oakley’s been suspiciously tight-lipped about you.”

“Self-preservation,” I mutter into my drink.

Xander’s arm settles across the back of my chair, fingertips lightly brushing my shoulder. “She’s right to be cautious. I’m extremely dangerous.”

“Uh-huh,” Zara laughs.

“How long have you known each other?” Xander asks, signaling the bartender for a whiskey.

Zara grins. “Since freshman year of college, when she found me crying in the bathroom over a failed biology exam.”

“You were pre-med back then, right?” I remind her.

“For all of three months before I realized I’d rather work with animals than people,” Zara says. “Oakley brought me coffee every morning during finals week when I was switching majors.”

“That sounds like her,” Xander says, smiling. “Quiet support when it matters most.”

“So what exactly do you do at this security company?”

“I watch people,” Xander answers so matter-of-factly that I nearly choke on my drink.

“He means surveillance systems,” I clarify. “Very boring corporate stuff. ”

“Oakley’s never brought a guy around before. You must be special.”

“She’s special,” Xander replies, his eyes never leaving my face. “I’m just along for the ride.”

A flush creeps up my neck that has nothing to do with the alcohol. Something about the way Xander looks at me—like he sees every part of me and wants it all anyway—still catches me off guard.

“He’s alright,” I say with exaggerated nonchalance.

“Just alright?” Xander challenges, leaning closer. “That’s not what you said last night when I?—”

I clap my hand over his mouth. “And that’s enough sharing for one evening.”

Xander smiles against my palm before he removes my hand, keeping it trapped in his. “I was just going to say ‘when I made you breakfast,’” he says. “What did you think I meant?”

“You two,” Zara says, shaking her head with delight. “I haven’t seen Oakley this worked up in...ever, actually. Usually she’s all business. Murder this, investigation that. Never takes a day off.”

“Oh, I know all about her...intense focus.” Xander’s eyes meet mine. “Like that time at the cabin when she insisted on practicing a position for hours until she got it just right.”

Zara snorts.

My breath catches as I recall the “practice” he’s referring to—me straddling him with a training knife pressed to his throat, his hands guiding my hips.

“I hate you,” I mutter.

“No, you don’t,” he whispers back .

“This is better than Netflix,” Zara declares, leaning back in her chair. “Please, continue.”

“There was also that time with the handcuffs,” Xander starts.

“Absolutely not,” I interrupt. “We are not discussing that.”

“I meant the interview with the retired police officer,” Xander says with mock innocence. “What did you think I meant?”

Zara’s delighted laughter makes heads turn. “Oh, I see what’s happening here. You’ve finally met your match, Acorn.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t stop the smile that forms. There’s something strangely liberating about Xander knowing the worst of me—both my darkest secrets and my embarrassing moments—and wanting me, anyway.

Zara’s still laughing when Xander’s hand drops below the table, landing on my knee. My smile freezes as his fingers trace small circles against my skin, each one moving slightly higher along my thigh.

“Anyway,” I say, my voice coming out higher than intended, “how’s Meatball’s skin condition doing?”

“He’s fine,” Zara says, watching me with narrowed eyes. “The medication worked— Are you okay?”

“Perfect.” I take a large gulp of my drink as Xander’s hand slides under the hem of my dress.

“You look flushed,” Zara notes, her eyes darting between us.

Xander’s fingers inch higher, his thumb drawing a lazy pattern against my inner thigh. “I was just telling Oakley earlier how radiant she looks tonight,” he says, his voice steady while his touch is anything but.

I squirm in my seat, trying to maintain a normal expression. “It’s hot in here. I need some water.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Xander hums, his other arm still draped around my shoulders, completely at ease while his fingers trace the edge of my underwear.

I squeeze my thighs together, trapping his hand. This backfires spectacularly when he responds by pressing the heel of his palm exactly where I’m most sensitive.

He leans close to my ear so only I can hear, “I can feel how wet you are. Dripping.”

My face burns.

“You’re horrible,” I whisper back.

“You seemed to like me last night,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. “When you were saying my name over and over, begging me not to stop.”

I reach for my water glass with shaking fingers, nearly knocking it over.

“Well,” Zara says, gathering her purse with a knowing smile. “I think that’s my cue to leave.”

“No,” I protest weakly. “We haven’t even finished our drinks.”

Zara laughs. “You two aren’t even trying to be subtle. I’m surprised the table hasn’t caught fire.” She stands, giving me a shameless wink. “Have fun, Acorn. Nice meeting you, Xander. Take care of my girl.”

“Always do,” Xander says, while slipping a finger beneath my underwear.

I bite my lip hard to suppress a gasp .

“Goodnight, you crazy kids,” Zara says, backing away with a broad grin. “Use protection!”

“Don’t go,” I call after her, but she just blows me a kiss and disappears into the crowd.

The moment she’s gone, Xander’s lips are at my ear again. “Do you know what I want to do to you right now?”

I shake my head, not trusting my voice.

“I want to take you into that dark corner by the emergency exit,” he whispers, his finger tracing tortuously slow circles. “Push you against the wall, where no one can see us. Slide your panties down just enough...”

“Xander,” I warn, my voice strangled.

“I could make you come right there,” he continues, his voice low and rough. “With everyone just feet away. You’d have to be so quiet, wouldn’t you? Biting your lip just like you’re doing now.”

I clench around his finger, my breath coming in short gasps.

“Or maybe I’d take you to the bathroom,” he says, sliding a second finger alongside the first. “Bend you over the sink so you could watch your face in the mirror while I?—”

I grab his wrist, stilling his movement. “Let’s go,” I say, my voice thick with need. “Let’s go right now.”