His Shooting Star: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 5

  He makes sure I’m reassembled back onto the soft couch, my throbbing ankle put back on its pillow but he asks if he can keep me naked for a while.

  His deep voice vibrating through me as he kneels down next to me makes me shiver, but not from the cold.

  I nod eagerly, finding it a new kind of turn on for anyone to want to look at me, let alone in my birthday suit and from so close.

  But it’s clear to me now. Xander not only likes what he sees and tastes. He’s craving it already, and so am I.

  I still have my T-shirt on, but it’s pulled way up over my chest and the rest of my clothes are who knows where.

  His eyes trace over me first, and then his hands, making me feel ready all over again. Ready for his mouth.

  I don’t stop him, but prop myself up on one elbow, wincing a little as my ankle gives me the finger in thanks for forgetting about it for the past half hour or so.

  “What is it?” Xander asks, his face full of concern.

  “That was, amazing,” I tell him honestly. “You’re amazing,” I add and notice him flush a little. Every guy has his pride I guess.

  “But Xander, “I start to explain. “Before today… I’ve never even…I mean, I...”

  “Never what?” he asks innocently, really needing me to spell it out.

  “I’ve never been with a man,” I murmur, putting it as delicate yet sophisticated sounding as I can.

  Girls have their pride too ya know.

  His face reacts to my words, understanding dawning, and his surprise is bigger than mine. Then he looks at me sidelong.

  “I’m glad you haven’t. But I can’t believe it,” he says, almost to himself.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, reminding him lots of people stay a virgin these days, just mine wasn’t exactly by choice.

  “I mean,” he explains, leaning over to kiss me briefly first. “That I’m glad because it means I’ll be your first. And only,” he adds with a note of seriousness.

  “But I’ve never...” I try to protest, struggling to find the words because my brain just shot out the top of my head while he was between my legs.

  Reading my mind again, he puts me at ease straight away.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” he repeats, but I don’t want him to feel like I’m holding out, nor do I want to feel like he’s waiting. Looking at his watch or checking the days to see if it’s time.

  “What about your...?” I ask, knowing only what I’ve heard about a guy’s so-called ‘needs’.

  The way some of them crassly discuss it, it’s like they have to release every eight hours or they’ll pop.

  Xander laughs softly, letting his eyes return to my chest and soft stomach, his hands silencing me and my doubts in the best possible way.

  Using my own, I gradually move one of his hands further down, using it to explore myself and registering just how thick his fingers are when I ease one inside me.

  It’s not what I planned, but before I know it I’m having a kind of trial run, and his thumb on my clit instantly alerts me to the fact that the next step, having him inside me is going to be a very big deal for me.

  For us.

  Easing his thick digit out of me, he brings it to his lips and kisses it before kissing me, letting me taste myself on his lips.

  “You’ll know when you’re ready,” he says knowingly.

  A heavy knock at the front door makes me jump, and I clamor to cover myself through instinct more than anything else.

  Xander lifts his head slowly towards the door, his nostrils flaring slightly and he makes a low, growling sound.

  Kind of like what I heard on that first night, just a couple of days ago, but this time it has an edge to it.

  Protective.

  Defensive.

  Like the low sound, a lion makes to warn others, letting the world know whose the boss is.

  It’s a side I haven’t seen from him, but it makes me feel safe, not scared.

  I’d be scared if I was on the receiving end though.

  As he stands up, looking stronger and more powerful than ever, I can see at once that although he’s a pussycat, Xander Sexton is a formidable opponent to anyone who’d cross him.

  He relaxes again, even though the pounding continues, and turns to me smiling.

  “I’ll see who that is,” he says cheerfully, calmly. The picture of a man who’s in complete control of the situation.

  On his way to the door, Xander stoops to pick up my torn panties and track pants, tossing them to me over his shoulder in a tight ball without even looking.

  Instead of worrying, I hear myself sigh.

  Not helplessly, but hopelessly in love.

  From where I’m lying in the living room, the huge couch is shielded from the front door but I hear it open and can easily listen in.

  “Morning, Professor.” A thick, heavily formal sounding voice announces.

  A cop voice if ever I’ve heard one. That knock too, and I feel my chest tighten. My heart in my throat.

  “Sorry to disturb you—” the voice continues, but Xander is way ahead.

  “Then why pound on my front door like some deranged lunatic if you didn’t want me disturbed?” he asks coolly. “You haven’t anyway, disturbed me that is. But why all the pounding?” he asks, easing the sarcasm back but only by a notch.

  I hear an inhalation of indignation, the sound of a gun belt heavy with keys being hitched up over a belly it could never hope to cover.

  The officer clears his throat, hoping to start over.

  “I’m Sargent Eames, Campus police. I am sorry to bother you Professor, but we have a missing girl,” he says, raising his voice in an accusing tone.

  “And you need me to explain how someone can still be missing if you ‘have them’?” Xander replies, sounding like a professor addressing a failing student now.

  I have to cover my mouth to stop from laughing out loud.

  “No!” The cop says gruffly. “Err… I mean, we have a case where a girl is missing, and you’re the last person identified as being seen with her,” he manages.

  I so badly want to peek my head around the huge arm of the couch, but Xander’s face in my mind with that serious expression of his is a firm no.

  He can handle it, but the anxiety I haven’t known since meeting Xander has returned, and if Campus police are already involved it won’t be long before my dad is.

  “Ah, Gillian Parker. Why didn’t you say so,” Xander remarks casually, scoffing a little.

  “I hate to break your case so soon, but she’s hardly missing, never was. She’s here, on my couch.”

  There’s a long silence, and I’m almost scared to breathe.

  Finally, I hear the door creak a little, but not opening wider. Xander’s in the process of closing it.

  “Enjoy the rest of your day, Sargent,” he clips, signaling an end to the case of the missing student.

  “Uh, just a minute, Sexton,” The voice booms. “I’d like to speak with Ms. Parker myself if you don’t mind.”

  “Well I do mind,” Xander says, voice hard now.

  “And why would that be?” the cop asks smugly.

  “If you must know everything, Sargent Eames, she’s asleep at the moment and I’m just about to shower and ready myself to take Ms. Parker to the campus medical center. Police escort not required.”

  The cop isn’t having it though and asks again to see me in person to ask some questions himself.

  There’s the crunch and blip of a two-way radio, with the cop moving away from the door murmuring.

  I quickly dress under the coverlet, knowing this will end badly for us both if Xander pisses off the cops much more than he already has.

  They just want to see me safe and sound, Xander. Why so defensive?

  It isn’t long before the same cop tells Xander exactly that, using his best ‘now let’s all just be friends’ voice.

  I hear that low growl again, more intense this time and I wonder if it’s just in my head or if t
he cop can hear it too.

  “Professor,” The cop pipes in, his voice sounding thinner, “If you have a dog or anything else that could impede our inquiry, I suggest you restrain it, another unit’s on the way and we’ll be taking any steps required to speak to the young lady in question.”

  But the growl only gets louder. It feels like the whole house will start to shake.

  Oh Xander, no. Don’t ruin it now.

  Chapter Eight

  Xander

  First the threat of her dad coming down to take her away, now the campus police.

  I know it’s their job, but I know what they want before I even open my door.

  They want Gillian. They want to know why I didn’t take her straight to the medical center but most of all they probably want to know what a student (technically anyway, even though she’s graduated) is doing in my home, having spent the night.

  The look on the cop’s face when I tell him she’s asleep on my couch says it all.

  Big college or small college, none of them want scandal of any kind.

  I try to keep it civil, but my back is up once I read what this guy has in mind.

  I can see it in my mind as clearly as in a movie.

  They’ll ask Gillian a bunch of questions, wear her down and then her dad will get involved and she’ll be gone.

  And me and my big mouth, bigger fists will probably be in the county jail before I can spit.

  Probably delaying the inevitable, but as far as I know, there’s no law against helping someone out, and no law against two consenting adults doing anything else.

  That’s the part I’d prefer to keep out of all this, our little bit of couch surfing this morning.

  My mind’s made up in an instant.

  No more contracts for any governments, or any other agencies that I’m bound to.

  I don’t want to go home now. I just want to stay here, just me and Gillian.

  The college contract, easily fixed. It’s expired if I’m not fired already. The NASA thing? Meh.

  Even the other stuff, the unofficial government stuff, I should be able to get out of that. It’s a tricky one, not something you get fired from or just text in your resignation. One I’ll have to go away for a while to sort everything out.

  With any luck I’ll need just a few days, a week tops to plead my case to be free from all this for good. But I can’t do anything if I’m in a jail cell for breaking a campus police officer’s nose now, can I?

  I do feel the change in me. Since being with Gillian, something’s been awoken in me. The man in me I guess. I’ve spent so many years only looking through a telescope or computer screen that I’ve been fixed on my assignments only.

  Finding space phenomenons and reporting them back, along with some other reports.

  That’s all changed now and I want out. I will have out, a bit like the beast in me, I guess.

  It’s been woken up now and only wants to claim Gillian and ride off into the sunset so we can live out our days in peace, practicing a lot more of what we discovered makes us fit so well together this morning.

  I can sense Gillian wanting to just get dressed and come out, but I hope she’s picking up on my signal. I want her to stay put.

  I’ll handle this.

  In a short time, a second car arrives, I raise a hand in a wave, recognizing the head of the campus police, Hank Stanton. He’s one of the few folk I bump into when I do my work, mostly at night.

  “Hiya Xander,” Hank calls out cheerfully, giving his junior officer a hard look as he comes over to talk with me, one on one.

  “What’s the hubbub, Professor?” he asks, concerned more than suspicious. “Eames here tells me you found and helped an injured student last night in the woods. We just wanna talk to her, make sure she’s okay,” he says, giving me another concerned look.

  His own instincts should or could have told him what’s what already, but he’s ready to hear me out before anything else.

  Maybe it’s been a while since Hank did any muff diving, but I can still taste Gillian on my breath and I’m sure her essence still hangs in the air you wouldn’t need a forensic test to find out what we’ve been up to.

  “Gillian’s fine, Hank,” I explain quietly, only going into the detail of the lost dog and house I plan to help her get cleaned up, on account of her ankle. And to get him out of here so we can get on with our day.

  “Ah, it’s that little pooch that started all this,” the senior officer remarks, glancing back to Eames and drawing in closer, a sign he has my confidence.

  “Dog was found this morning by a neighbor, they knocked on the Patterson’s door and no sign of Gillian, so…” he confides, raising his brows in silent explanation.

  “I already spoke to her father this morning,” I add, casually adding we're heading to the medical center directly then on to arrange things at the house she’s been sitting.

  Hank Stanton, I thought would leave it at that. But not today.

  “We just need to take Gillian and get her checked out ourselves. Just procedure,” he smiles, but his tell is showing.

  It’s more than a lost dog or missing student case.

  Don’t need to be a professor to see that.

  Eames has gravitated closer, annoyed he can’t hear every word we’ve been saying.

  “Thought you had a wild animal in there, Professor,” he sneers. “All that growling.”

  Hank Stanton holds my gaze. “Probably just your belly growling, Eames. Head on back now, I’ve got this covered.”

  “But Sarge—”

  “Thanks, Eames,” he says dismissively, not taking his eyes off mine for a second.

  “What do ya say, Xander. Why don’t we all head down to the station and have a coffee and a chat, eh?”

  I know it’s not a threat, maybe just his instinct kicking in. But when I notice the old man’s hand resting on the butt of his pistol, just in case. I figure there’s no use making this any worse than it has to be.

  I know I won’t be held anywhere for long, it’s Gillian I’m worried about.

  I don’t want to be separated from her, not now, not ever. But if I make as big a stink as I feel like making right now, I’ll maybe never see her again.

  “Sure Hank,” I tell him, smiling and playing along. I force myself to relax outwardly, but inside my gut is in a knot, and my mind is only screaming for one thing.

  The one thing I know is mine and the only thing I’ve ever wanted.

  Gillian.

  I’m not surprised when she appears next to me, keeping her distance for appearance’s sake, and pretends to stifle a yawn, hobbling on her ankle, yowling, and wincing whenever she has to move.

  “What’s going on?” she asks in a demanding tone, and not to me but to the senior officer.

  She puts up about as much front as I have, but we both know if her dad gets in on this, we’ll have nothing but more trouble by comparison.

  Within half an hour we’re at the medical center, some staff already waiting with a wheelchair for Gillian. Hank Stanton ordering me to stay put while he has a word with a doctor.

  “Xander?” Gillian asks, sounding frightened. “What’s going on?”

  I try to tell her with my eyes. But she’s too upset, too scared to get the full message.

  “Just routine,” I hear my voice say. “Just do what they ask and I’ll make sure the house and dog are taken care of,” I tell her.

  Still not sure which one of us is likely to be going anywhere soon.

  Hank’s look seems to have hardened a little by the time he gets back in his car, but as we pull away he gives me another word to the wise.

  “If there’s anything you wanna get off your chest, Xander. Now’s the time,” he says quietly.

  “Yeah,” I tell him after thinking for a moment.

  “You got a good pension plan?” I ask him.

  “Hope so,” he replies quickly. “Should be getting it next year when I retire, all things going to plan.”

&nb
sp; I nod slowly, thoughtful again.

  Wondering if it’s worth making waves for Hank, or even Eames for that matter.

  I’m already planning my revenge, I guess. Another new emotion for me.

  To have the greatest treasure on earth, only to have her taken from me isn’t something I like. And I know from experience, the people I work for, well getting mixed up in their world often ends badly, no matter how well-intentioned people might be.

  Gillian’s safe, I’ll see to that.

  But Hank and anyone else who gets in our way?

  Suddenly I’m not so sure. Depends where all this is going.

  And worse than that. I almost like the feeling of a vengeful Xander.

  A protective Xander is more likely. Protecting and watching over the ones I love.

  I like the idea and can see more than just Gillian in that picture in my mind.

  A family.

  Hang on Gillian. Just hang on, I’m coming for you real soon.

  Chapter Nine

  Gillian

  “Well this is the strangest thing I’ve seen for a while,” the doctor remarks, holding up x-ray after x-ray, and looking again at the ultrasound and even CT scans of my ankle.

  My patience has worn thin, but I remember what Xander was trying to tell me before they took him away, more of a feeling rather than words.

  I figure I’ll just play along, but really? It’s been hours now.

  “Umm? I do have other things to do.” I remind the doctor, who wants to run even more tests, and that’s when I have to start refusing.

  The memory of Xander being taken away, our time together this morning, not to mention that damned house to be cleaned and the dog found still.

  I groan at the thought, a nurse asking if I need something for the pain.

  “The only pain at the moment is in my ass,” I snap, finally having had enough of all this.

  “I want out of here and I want all of your names too. You and the college will be hearing a lot more about this I can assure you,” I bluff. Noting the unsurprised staff blinking back, one even shrugs.