Javier (Alpha Heroes #12)

Chapter Twenty-two

Missy

The heat of the crowd gave way to fresh air as Pierre, Gerard, and I stepped off the dance floor. My pulse ticked fast and my throat had gone dry. My face was ablaze. They’d asked me again about having a sexual adventure tonight and I’d said yes. I didn’t know who on earth I was going to choose and yet I was sure that this was my one and only chance.

I’d never been in a situation like this, with the key to the men’s room in my hand, and both guys looking at me expectantly. I had a bad case of the jitters, but it was now or never.

“Who is it going to be, ma chérie ?” Gerard asked eagerly. “Me? Him? Both?”

“We shall honor your wishes.” Pierre assured me, setting his other hand over his heart.

“No pressure.” Gerard planted a chaste kiss on my forehead.

I couldn’t lie to myself. I was terrified. But I was also determined. I opened my mouth to make a choice, but closed it when Pierre’s eyes widened and his body tensed. He let go of my hand, grabbed Gerard by the sleeve, and knocked his chin to somewhere behind me. Gerard’s compact figure straightened. His eyes matched the size of Pierre’s.

I whirled around and discovered the source of their fears. Javier stalked toward us, his hands fisted, his jaw clenched, and his face set in a ferocious scowl that would’ve frightened the crap out of anyone with a sound brain. The fury radiating from him burned through my skin and iced my spine at the same time.

“No.” I jumped in front of Pierre and Gerard and waved my hands. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what?” Javier came to a stop before me and shot both men a hard stare.

“This.” I braced my hands on his chest and pushed only to discover he wouldn’t budge, not even an inch. I lowered my voice to a whisper. “We talked about this. You have no right to beat up these men.”

“Who says I’m gonna beat these jackasses to a pulp?” His voice was deceptively placid.

“You look the part.” I tapped him on the chest. “Hey, look down. Eyes on me.” Reluctantly, he lowered his gaze to me. “Don’t ruin my chances. This is my decision to make.”

His heart pounded like a war drum under my palm, and every one of his muscles bulged beneath my touch. His body vibrated with what felt like repressed violence. I couldn’t understand. He’d had his chance. And now he was angry about… what?

It didn’t matter. I had to stop a fight from happening. A cursory glance over my shoulder showed me that Pierre and Gerard had taken a step backward, but they weren’t running away, at least not yet.

“ Monsieur ,” Pierre said, recapturing Javier’s attention. “You have no right to control this lovely woman.”

“Controlling men like you give all of us a terrible reputation.” Gerard’s accent thickened with his accusation. “ Liberté, égalité, fraternité. ” He quoted the French Revolution motto. “She’s free to decide.”

Judging by the vein that popped up on Javier’s forehead, I feared the men had spoken their last words.

“We’re Renaissance men,” Pierre proclaimed, his throat grating with indignation. “We’re not possessive trolls.”

“Renaissance men?” Javier rumbled. “Did you just call me a troll?”

The muscle that ticked on his jaw silenced Pierre, but Gerard opened his mouth to speak again, forecasting the very disaster I was trying to prevent.

“Don’t say anything else,” I snapped at him before I tugged on Javier’s T-shirt in an effort to shift his attention to me. “What’s going on? Tell me. Please?”

Javier reluctantly disengaged from the three-way glaring contest. When I arched my eyebrows at him, he must’ve seen my distress, because his scowl relented. Instead, he pasted a grin on his face and aimed it at my companions. The smile was nice, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“ Excusez-moi, met amis ,” Javier said. “I’ve given you the wrong impression.”

Tilting my head, I stared up at him, fighting to keep my mouth closed. Had Javier Guzman just issued an apology to the men? I shook my head. An afterthought. Did he speak French?

“I may not look like a Renaissance man, but I am one, too.” He reached over, settled his arm over my shoulder, and maneuvered me to his side, muttering under his breath. “At least I’m trying to be.”

He certainly seemed to be making an effort. I was too astonished to intervene. Without me standing between the men, he faced off with the other two. Pierre and Gerard glowered suspiciously at him. Their squared postures revealed they weren’t convinced.

“You’re right, messieurs , my s?ur can do whatever she wants to do.” Javier definitively had a working knowledge of French and a lovely pronunciation to boot. “She’s smart, this one. C’est one femme trés intelligente. C omprendez vous ?”

“ Oui, bien s?r .” Pierre nodded.

“ évidemment ,” Gerard agreed.

“She knows what she wants,” Javier continued in this unexpected course. “But…”

“But what?” I asked, hanging on his every word.

“But you haven’t danced with me tonight.” He winked at me, his voice playful. “One dance, before you go?”

His wink skewered my heart like Cupid’s arrow. The desire that gleamed in his eyes surged through me in a tsunami of emotions. He tilted his head and lifted his eyebrows, pleading with me, asking me for a chance to do what, I wasn’t sure.

Cue the debate that commenced in my head.

Missy Astor, my better sense reminded me . Y ou promised to get over him.

It’s just a dance.

Hunk alert. My good judgment stood its ground . You’re not thinking. You’re feeling.

Who says I must have logical reasons to do anything tonight?

You’ll be sorry.

Yes, but maybe, hopefully, not?

Tonight was all about living and learning.

When I tossed Javier a cursory glance, he smiled, an expectant, hopeful grin.

That smile. Shoot . I couldn’t refuse him.

“ One dance.” I caved, but I used my sternest tone before I turned to the guys and gave Gerard the keycard. “Hang on to this. I’ll be right back.”

“Did you hear that, Hommes de la Renaissance? ” Javier smirked. “She’ll be right back.”

“You better have an explanation for this,” I grumbled as he led me to the dance floor, and parting the crowd with his body, squeezed through until we stood in the middle of the throng.

“I’m sorry.” He coiled his arms around my waist and pulled me to him even though the music had paused and the DJ seemed to be frantically working his console. “I’ve been a jerk and I know it.”

His apology took me by surprise. It combined with his possessive hold to wipe out most of my thoughts, although I did manage to cling to one question. “What’s happening here?” I eyed him warily. “What’s going on inside your head?”

“Remember when you suggested we talk when we first got here?”

“Yes,” I said primly. “I also recall that you refused me.”

“Sorry about that as well.” He had the grace to look chastened. “I also apologize for walking away from you last night, and for the things I said earlier today. I’ve changed my mind. I wanna talk.”

“Right now?” I frowned. “Just as I was about to—”

“Don’t say it,” he rumbled and winced. “Can’t take it. Let’s not talk about them .”

“Then what the heck do you want to talk about?”

“I have a ton of things I wanna tell you.” His Adam’s apple bounced along his throat. “The problem is, I don’t know how. Never done it before. So, bear with me, will you?”

“I’m here, am I not?” I glared up at him, but the mix of sweetness and resignation I spotted in his eyes melted my fury.

As the music began, he gathered me against his chest, and swaying gently, planted a kiss on my head. It rippled down in sparks all the way to my toes. Despite my best efforts to get in the mood while dancing with the other guys, my libido hadn’t made an appearance. Until now, when it showed up with an intensity that had me squeezing my thighs and begging my nipples to relax. One chaste kiss from Javier, and the electric shiver that only his touch unleashed on me spread through my body, bewildered my every cell, and aggravated the ache blooming between my legs.

God help me. I was already wet.

He lowered his mouth to my ear. “I need you to pay attention to this next song. I told the DJ I’d rip out his throat if he didn’t play it.”

“Oh.” That’s why the DJ had looked absolutely discombobulated. “Why did you threaten the poor guy? A ‘please’ would’ve sufficed, I think.”

“I was in a frantic state,” he confessed. “Didn’t wanna miss my chance.”

“Frantic, you?” I stared up at this man who was acting so very unlike himself. “What chance were you going to miss?”

“Please.” He spoke into my ear. “Listen to the lyrics.”

The infectious rhythm of Ed Sheeran’s Shivers gained volume and momentum. Once again, I fastened my eyes on his face, unable to hide my surprise.

My lips twitched. “ Ed Sheeran ?”

“Yep.” A rueful half-grin pulled at one side of his mouth. “The guy can say shit I can’t. Just listen. Please?”

He cupped the back of my head and cradled it in his big hand until my cheek laid on his shoulder. Singing the words in my ear, he began to move, a slow, sensual swaying that charged the air between us. My heart beat wildly when he sang in my ear, telling an intimate story about taking an arrow to the heart as if it had come from my bow, and of me being so hot that he shivered whenever he was close to me.

He wasn’t the only one shivering. My skin tingled beneath his touch. The heat of his hand on my bare back did delicious things to my body. His touch smoldered, marked me. We were close now, skin to skin in most places. My neck pebbled with the rush of his breaths and his passion washed over me until the crowd disappeared and we were alone inside the song.

He pressed against me. My form molded to his. His sensual moves persuaded my body to match him sway for sway. He whirled me around like an expert only to welcome me back into his embrace.

This guy could dance.

In his arms, even I looked like a pro.

I’d never felt this good, this wonderful and fluid in motion. He had excellent rhythm and grace galore. Dancing was one of his superpowers, adding to his sex appeal. What was it that my wicked sister Affie liked to say about men?

If they can dance, they can fuck . The better the dancer, the better the fucker.

The needy space between my legs squeezed so hard that the dance floor spun beneath my feet. Desire soaked through my panties and moistened my inner thighs. My body knew what it wanted. Who I wanted.

In Javier’s arms, I was a flame raging around his fire, merging with his blaze, hungry to consume and be consumed. My body responded to his movements with a daring, sexual zest that proved that Prissy Missy and Mousy Missy weren’t in play. It was as if they’d both gone on a hike tonight.

The new me ate up his attention, thriving as never before. As the song went into a faster tempo and a catchy verse, he took me into his arms, spun me once, locked eyes with me, and sang a line that left me breathless, the one that said he wanted to be my guy.

My guy for tonight?

This had to be the most surreal moment of my life.

Am I dreaming?

He tightened his hold on me and showed me with his body that he meant every word he sang to me. The bulge at his groin was large and hot against my belly. Grinding against him, I was caught in the depths of his eyes and the promises that shimmered there.

The song ended. I wanted to keep dancing with him until the sun came up. With great effort, we peeled off each other, a rupture that transformed the world around us into a dissonant blur. The deafening throbs of a techno hit drove the crowd into a frenzy, but we just stood there, facing each other, our eyes and bodies engaged in an intimate conversation.

“You heard the words?” he asked, his stare both hopeful and cautious.

“I heard the words.” It was all I could manage to say.

“I wanna be the one,” he breathed.

The one to teach, coach, and help me explore. The one willing to give my lust a go and have a sexual adventure with me. My heart ascended in my chest like a helium balloon.

“Angel?” His chest rose with a deep inhale. “Will you please choose me?”

Not Pierre. Not Gerard. Javier, the man I’d wanted all along.

Sometimes a choice was not a choice. “Yes.”

Closing the empty space between us, he took my mouth and kissed me, a reunion of lips and tongues that robbed me of air, thought, and will. Then he reached for my hand, led me out of the crowd, and marched away from the pool party.

“Javi?” I stopped in my tracks, and looking down on my toes, sighed. “I led them on.”

“You led who on?” He cupped my chin and met my gaze before he glanced at the Frenchmen. “Those jerks?” Javier’s surprised eyebrows shot up on his forehead. “They knew the game they played. Lady luck changes her mind a million times a night.”

“But I’m not like that.” I lifted my shoulders and let them fall. “I don’t gamble with people’s feelings and I don’t want to leave them hanging. It’s unkind. I need to apologize.”

“ Apologize ? To them ?” He swallowed his snort when he realized I was dead serious. He shifted his gaze to the somber-faced guys standing in the same spot where I’d left them. “Fuck this.” Keeping my hand in his, we marched toward the men. “Angel, you’re way too kind, and I love that about you, but you don’t need to apologize for anything.”

“I like to treat people like human beings.”

“I get that, believe me, I do,” he said. “It’s admirable, but it’s also a dangerous proposition in a brutal world.”

“I feel like should do the right thing,” I insisted to his chagrin, but then the vexation that scrunched his forehead lifted and the glint in his eyes softened as they settled on me.

“I’m never gonna stop you from doing what you think it’s right,” he said and my heart fluttered. “I’m never gonna tell you what to do and I’ll always support your choices.”

I blinked off my tears before he saw them. He couldn’t know how much his words meant to me, how refreshing, healing, and freeing they felt to someone whose confidence and self-esteem had been sabotaged since I was a little girl.

“You don’t got to agree with me on anything,” he continued. “But would you like to hear my take on this particular situation?”

“Sure.”

“Talk to those guys if you want,” he said. “But never apologize for the choices you make freely. They are yours to make.”

He was different. Behind his tough guy, play hard fa?ade, he was so much more than he allowed others to see. He was smart in a worldly way I’d never been. He didn’t think he was kind, but right now, he was being very kind to me. A good man. Sister Elsa had known this all along. As Javier and I turned around and made our way to the Frenchmen, I let out a quiet sigh.

“ Messieurs. ” He nodded as we came to a stop before the two men.

“You’re either a sick dog or not her brother,” Pierre hissed between his teeth.

“I understand your disappointment.” Javier kept a firm hold of my hand. “I’m not sick, not in the way you imply, and you’re right, I’m not her brother.”

“Then why the lie?” Gerard demanded.

“Not a story I choose to share.” Javier closed the matter for good. “Miranda wants to speak with you. Remember that we’re all Renaissance men. This is her decision to make.”

“Of course,” Pierre exclaimed.

“ Ma chérie. ” Gerard studied my face. “This man is not hurting you? He’s not forcing you to do what he wants?”

“He’s not.”

“Is this really your wish?” Pierre asked, shifting his gaze between Javier and me.

“Yes,” I said. “I want to thank you for your company. I needed to decompress, laugh, and have fun, and you were great sports. I enjoyed the time I spent with you.”

“You’ve broken my heart, ma chérie , but say no more.” Gerard slid a business card out of his wallet and directing a glare at Javier handed it to me. “If this person proves to be disagreeable, you know where to find us.”

“I’ll be all right.” I glanced at Javier. “See? I told you they were nice.”

“I see that now.” He had the grace to look a little humbled.

“ Merci , again.” I gave each man a double kiss. “ Au revoir and safe travels.”

I turned to Javier and, together, we ambled toward the gate, but when we got there, he scrunched his eyebrows. He slowed down, stopped, and released my hand. “Give me a sec.”

“Um… okay.”

He was already on the way to the bar, leaving me standing awkwardly within earshot of my friends, who were talking among themselves.

Javier approached the beautiful woman he’d spent time with. A pang of jealousy stabbed at my stomach. He had a brief conversation with her. She smiled, then laughed. His charm could cheer up a woman in no time. He and the woman ambled over to the Frenchmen.

“I’d like you to meet my lovely friend, Rozina.” Javier gestured between the parties. “Rozina, meet Pierre and Gerard. It’s their last night on vacation here. The three of you are gonna get along great.”

As the trio met each other and compliments began flying at high speed, Javier excused himself. I didn’t miss the disappointment that lingered in the woman’s gaze. Even as she engaged with Pierre and Gerard, her stare trailed Javier’s path to me.

I knew how she felt.

“Very clever,” I murmured as he joined me by the pool gate. “And by the looks of it, effective as well.”

“Anything to get you out of here with a clear conscience.” He paused and studied my face. “Do I detect a note of scorn in your voice?”

“No,” I answered all too quickly.

His lips twitched. “Angel, are you jealous?”

“Of course not!” I lied through my teeth.

“If you were, I’m good with that.” He took my hand. “I’ve been cross-eyed jealous of those two since you met them.”

“You? Jealous?” I gawked at him.

“I know. Weird. Right?” He grinned. “Should we go now?”

We walked the meandering path ahead of us in silence. The quick exchange had dampened my mood somewhat. He must’ve noticed.

“My rusty emotional radar detects negative energy in the air.” He gave my hand a little squeeze. “I swear on my mother’s grave I didn’t bang that lady.”

The question got away from me. “Why not?”

“Because…” He let out a heavy exhale. “I’ve been hung up on you for a while.”

Holy moly. I hadn’t made it up. He’d felt the same attraction I’d felt the whole time.

“Angel?” he squeezed my hand as we walked on the long path across the lawn. “I know you’re quiet, but I’m worried. What are you thinking?”

“That you’re into sex, and that she’s beautiful, sexy, and totally your type.” Apparently, I had no filter tonight.

“That’s in the past,” he said, shocking the heck out of me. “I regret I ever had a type.”

“I’m not judging you,” I rushed to say. “I’m not making any assumptions, either.”

“There are things,” he offered haltingly. “Stuff you don’t know about me. Stuff you should know.”

“Tonight, none of those things matter.”

“If that’s how you want it, then that’s how it’ll be.”

One night with Javier. I put all other thoughts out of my mind. It was all I needed to finalize my transformation and become the new me.