Chapter 9

Xavier

Sunday 7.07pm

I’m pouring a glass of Pinot Noir when I see Carrie’s mom walk in with the living embodiment of a hen-pecked husband.

She looks around the room, and her eyes narrow as she sees me behind the restaurant bar.

If I’d expected an acknowledgment of some kind, I’d have been sorely disappointed.

She just ignores me and takes a seat at the same table a blonde guy, with a slight resemblance to Carrie, has been nursing his beer for the last twenty minutes.

Every so often he’ll pull out his phone then he’ll scan the bar, his eyes lingering on the men in the room, occasionally me, then like a light has switched, he’ll watch the door like he’s waiting for someone he’d rather not see.

If I hadn’t already pegged him the second he walked in the door, it was confirmed when I dropped off a Bud, and snuck a look at his cell.

Carrie wasn’t wrong about them being dysfunctional. From what I’ve heard from the wait staff, the parents come here every season, and after a little digging on my first break, I’m not surprised to see Carrie’s family is wealthy.

The mom definitely is the matriarch of the family, and from what a quick internet search, she holds the purse strings, financing her son and her daughter, effectively keeping them firmly within her grasp.

Knowing Carrie came from wealth, and could have compromised and taken the easy road, makes me like her even more.

I watch on while her brother slides his phone in his pocket, switches his posture, and gets to his feet and greets the mom and dad.

I’m following a conversation between a couple to my left when I notice Carrie’s mom stiffen. I follow her gaze and nearly drop the glass I’m holding.

Carrie is waltzing through the door with a more conservatively dressed woman, a slight sway to her walk as she literally turns every head in the room.

It’s no surprise people are staring. In a room full of uptight businessmen and wealthy vacationers dressed in preppy clothing, she looks like she’s at a cocktail party.

Her dress is skin-tight, clinging to every last curve I’m trying to forget. She’s done something to her eyes, making the blue stand out even more.

Her hair is perfectly straight, hanging in a line around her shoulders, and the strappy heels she’s wearing make her walk even more feminine.

I struggle to breathe as she walks close enough that I catch a waft of her perfume.

A coy smile lights at her glossed lips as she approaches the bar. She places her purse down and takes a seat. “Pour me a drink so I can pretend my mother isn’t scowling at me for wearing this.”

Since her mother and her father are both looking in my direction, I pour Carrie a glass of the house red and slide it towards her. “You look stunning.”

She lowers her gaze and wrinkles her nose. “I don’t normally dress up like this. I never get the time to, but occasionally I feel the urge.”

My voice comes out way too low considering there’s another bartender nearby. “You’re certainly giving me the urge.”

She smiles and looks to be struggling to hold in a laugh. She knocks back the red way too quick and releases a long breath. “Wish me luck. This is going to be a train wreck.”

I wish I could offer her more than a drink, but I’m stuck here until my shift ends and that’s not for another two hours.

She slides off the barstool and I say the first thing that springs to mind. “I’ll be here if you need anything,” I say.

Her eyebrow arches but she’s already turning her back on me, giving me a view of how amazing her ass looks.

The other bartender, Liz, whistles low as she stands beside me. “Damn. I’d hit that, and I’m not even gay. Do you know her?”

It takes everything I have not to give myself away. “Not as well as I like. But I’m hoping to rectify that by the end of the shift.”

She rolls her eyes. “That family is bat shit crazy so she’s probably a tiger in the sack. You know what they say, the crazier the woman the hotter the sex.”

I’m pretty sure Carrie’s not crazy, but since I already know she’s a tiger in the sack, I spend the next ten minutes trying to tamper down a raging hard-on.

***

Carrie

If I wasn’t already flustered and out of sorts, seeing Xavier, and his obvious interest, has only exacerbated it.

With liquid courage fueling me, I take a seat and try my best to make an unpleasant situation slightly more bearable.

Danny’s eyes pop out of his head as I take a seat next to him. When dad just shifts in his seat, mutters under his breath and takes a gulp of his scotch, Danny leans in and whispers in my ear. “Are you off your rocker?”

I glare at him and lower my voice to a whisper. “Nope. Just sick of the tyranny.”

He chokes on a laugh and straightens in his seat as mom sends a frosty look in our direction. “Sharing jokes, are we? Well, perhaps you could let us all in on it?”

I feel the flush creeping along my cheeks as Tina sends me a warning look as the waitress arrives to take our order.

I already know what everyone will order. It’s not even hard anymore. Danny will order steak, with a side order of fries, Tina will get the cos salad, minus the dressing to appease our mother, and mom will refuse to accept the set menu and will decide to create an entirely new dish, making our table an instant red flag in the kitchen.

Lucky for Hadi, and his staff, I’ve already forewarned them my mother loves to be as awkward as possible.

My father orders the salmon, even though he’ll eye Danny’s steak with more lust than I’ve ever seen him send my mother’s way.

Normally, I’d deviate from what I really want to eat and copy Tina’s choice to avoid the inevitable remarks about weight, about genes, and how Myles doesn’t want a chubby wife.

I order the tart, even though I know Hadi isn’t happy with the cow’s milk feta being substituted.

I’m still not sure how to take his job offer. I know he has full approval to seek out his replacement but knowing that he was planning on coming to find me, is still something I’m struggling to wrap my head around.

He’s not going to be happy when he finds out I ordered the one item on the menu he considers his weakest.

Someone else isn’t going to be happy with my choice. My mother is looking at me with a reprimand at the ready.

She doesn’t even bother to lower her voice. “Pastry? Are you sure that’s a wise choice?”

I don’t even have to answer, she’s already lining up another shot. “But then, being wise isn’t your strong suit, is it? What were you thinking, wearing that to dinner? You look like a streetwalker.”

No one moves or says a word as my mom’s face grows even harder.

Danny clears his throat and Tina does what I expected her too, smiles, and pretends nothing is happening.

My father seems to decide now is as good a time to start a conversation about a safe topic the way he always does. “How is your little restaurant going Carrie?”

Inwardly I cringe. “It’s not so little, dad. It’s twice the size of this—”

My mother interrupts. “Don’t brag, Carrie, it doesn’t suit you.”

My fists clench under the table. “I wasn’t bragging. I was merely stating a fact.”

She looks even less convinced, lucky for me, Tina decides to be a hero. “Carrie is responsible for twelve staff members.”

My mother scoffs so openly, even my father looks surprised. “Good Lord. I hope you don’t dress this way at work?”

White-hot fury starts to build in a way I don’t think I’ve ever allowed it to before.

In that moment, I’m certain I’m going to either punch her, slap her, or do what I’ve wanted to for years.

I want to tell her I’m sick and tired of playing these games. Hot tears are starting to burn at my eyes, and I’m dangerously close to making the kind of scene she’d loathe.

Maybe that’s why she always has it in for me? How dare I shine, when she’s a washed-up, bitter old bitch who poisons everyone around her.

When Tina tries to strike up a conversation, my mother shuts her down with a single look.

Even Danny isn’t able to diffuse the situation the way he usually does. His attempts at humor, at complimenting my mom on how well she looks, isn’t penetrating the ice layer emanating from my mother.

Around us, people are having a pleasant time, enjoying the food, drinking wine, and laughing.

If my mother wasn’t sitting stony face, making even the waiters uncomfortable, this could have been an enjoyable evening.

When her meal arrives, presented beautifully, I know she’s going to complain. Sure enough, as everyone else starts to eat, she starts to moan about how the fish is undercooked, the garnish isn’t edible, right down to a spot on the cutlery.

My father says nothing bar a grunt and a nod to pacify her. Danny just sends me furtive looks, kicking my leg under the table, and Tina just smiles her way all the way through to dessert.

When my mother’s arrives, a hazelnut and pecan flan with pastry so perfect it melts in your mouth, she pushes it away with a look of disgust on her face. “If this is what passes for five star, I can’t even begin to imagine what your restaurant must serve.”

That does it.

I push back from the table, fire rushing through my veins as I toss my napkin on the table.

With everyone’s eyes on me, I try to sound nonplussed. “I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I don’t wait for another remark, I just spin on my wobbly legs, and head straight to the one place, I hope I’ll get a warmer reception.

Xavier spots me a second before I slam my purse down on the bar. “What time do you get off?”

He chuckles and I realize my mistake a second too late when he replies with a grin. “That’s up to you.”

***

Xavier

I don’t know what the fuck I’m thinking, but after watching and unfortunately being close enough to hear that ice queen tear into Carrie, like she’s nothing, makes molten lava spill through my veins.

Before I can say or do anything worse than I already have, I lean over the bar “Just so you know. Your mom has a nickname. They call her ‘The Whinger’.”

She snorts a laugh. “Entirely appropriate. I’m just glad I warned the kitchen.”

I have to force a smile and try to tell myself her speaking to Hadi isn’t a big deal. “That’s what you were talking about?”

She takes a seat and releases a sigh. “Pretty much.”

Despite my rationalizing it, a warning sparks that I can’t ignore. Omar and Steve are actively looking for new staff for the off season. If I’m right, it’s the perfect set up, and I need to know if Carrie’s been influenced.

Before I can reassure myself she’s not in any danger she keeps talking.

“My worst nightmare is ending up like her. Myles used to say all daughters turn into their mothers.”

I shake my head, my eyes flicking back to the bitter old bitch staring daggers at me. “You’re nothing like her.”

Her chin quivers, and the anger I saw seems to be dissolving. “I haven’t even told her about Myles.”

Before I know what I’m saying, I’m checking my watch to see when I’m due to finish. “Right now she’s gotten what she wanted. But I think I can help you come up with a strategy.”

Carrie sniffs, looking at me with watery eyes, and such a defeated expression on her face, I’m even more determined to help her. “I’m in room 713. Anytime you want to stop by, I’ll be grateful to hear this strategy of yours.”

My heart rate triples as she downs her drink and squares her shoulders then turns on her heel and strides out the dining room.

My gaze slides back to her family, and I start to imagine all the things I could say to the poisonous witch sitting at the head of the table like a Queen Bee.

I’ve scoped the bar, at this point my shift is almost over so I have to leave. And I can’t exactly be seen hanging around when I don’t need to be here.

If I do this right, I’ll be able to do my job, and get to spend a little more time with Carrie before she leaves.

As I see the bar manager coming through the door, his body language relaxed, and a genuine smile on his face letting me know I’m in no danger of not pulling this off, I know I’m in with a chance.

Sure enough, he takes a look at the emptying dining room, and nods. “Looks like you can handle yourself. I’m taking off tomorrow. How’d you like to take over for the week?”

My heart thunders about in my chest, but I hide my enthusiasm. “Sure thing.”

Steve leaves me loading the dishwasher to go let Omar know as Carrie’s family scatter like they can’t wait to get away from each other.

By the time nine o'clock rolls around, the dining room is clear except for the waiting staff.

After six months of doing odd jobs around here, and slowly winning the trust of the bar manager, and Hadi, I finally have the chance I needed.

I need to let Julie know. But my operational coordinator is not who I’m thinking about.

I close up as quick as I can, mentally thinking of a game plan that can benefit us both all the while picturing what I’m going to do to Carrie.

I take the elevator and find my toes tapping in my boots as I watch the floors light up.

The doors open with a ding and I'm near running down the hallway to her room.

I don't give a shit about appearing overeager, I want her, she wants me, and I'm not about to waste what little time we have playing cat and mouse.

I knock on the door, heart starting to beat a little faster as I think about how she looked in her dress.

She opens the door, hair tousled, makeup washed off her face and wearing only a plush robe.

If anything she looks even better than when she was all dolled up.

I don't say a word, just push the door open and pull her closer.

I kiss her hard, sliding my hand inside her robe, rubbing a thumb over her nipple as she moans into my mouth making all the blood rush to my cock.

Her lip catches in her teeth as she slowly undoes her robe and lets it drop to the floor. “When do we talk about this strategy?”

I stare at her, taking in every curve of her body until I'm hard as a rock. “Later.”

She laughs, and grabs at the snug-fitting shirt the manager gave me to wear, and tugs it over my head.

I start to unbuckle my pants, but she beats me to it when she drops to her knees and unzips me.

She looks up at me and flicks her tongue over the tip of my cock. “Are you really in the Special Forces, or was that just to impress me?”

I’m caught between the truth and a lie, and with her tongue a breath away from my cock I go with a vague reply. “What you see is what you get.”

She growls low, and slides my cock into her mouth, humming like she's loving every second of it.

I run my hands through her hair as she licks the tip and runs her fingers over my balls as she sucks harder.

I know I have to stop her before I explode in her mouth, so I ease back and kick off my jeans and yank her up so we’re eye to eye. “What else can I do to impress you?”

She pulls a face, presses her body against mine and laces her fingers around my neck. “More of what we did at your place, but dirtier.”

Heat rushes through my body as I think about everything I could do to her. “You sure you want dirty?”

She crinkles her nose and kisses me without tongue to give me an answer.

I tug her towards her bed, no longer thinking about anything else but putting my mouth on her pussy and making her come.

She collapses backward, and I take great pleasure in planting myself between her legs and opening them wide.

I kiss her inner thighs, teasing her until she’s trembling. When she’s gasping, and I know she’s up for it, I start to lick her, until I feel her starting to come.

I shift lower, and insert my finger into her, sliding it out, as I make her climax again.

When she’s good and wet, I lie on my back. “You wanted dirty. Come sit on my face.”

She sucks in a breath, but instead of doing what I ask, she rolls on top of me, and slides her body down so I’m staring at her beautiful pussy.

When she adjusts herself, and I feel her lips around my cock, I grab her ass cheeks, and slide my tongue into her.

I lick every part of her, making her moan as she takes my whole cock in her mouth.

She’s so deep, and I’m so fucking into the taste of her, I know I’m going to blow my load if we don’t stop.

I push back, my voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. “Fuck, stop, I’m going to come. I want to fuck you first.”

She immediately takes my cock from her mouth and manages to shift so she’s straddling me.

Her hair is hanging over her tits, nipples stiff and her face flushed as she pushes my cock into her.

With a groan, I let her ride me, until her mouth opens, her eyes close and her entire body starts to shake.

She rides out the orgasm, with me just hanging on, ready to explode inside her.

When she’s done, I flip her over on her back, lie beside her and suck her nipple as I slide a hand down so I can finger her, and lean over her closest nipple.

She grabs my hand and pushes my finger inside her. “Both holes.”

I’m not about to deny her that, or anything else, so I do want she wants, and watch her entire body react.

Her nipples grow even harder as I slide my fingers in and out of her. She’s trembling in seconds, getting wetter and wetter, making it hard to keep my place.

Her fingers tangle in my hair and she pulls me in and guides me until she’s moaning like a stuck pig.

Her back arches, and she comes in a screaming orgasm making me glad the walls are triple insulated.

I’m coated in jizz, and she’s gasping for me to fuck her again, so I get her up on all fours, and slide my cock into her again.

This time, I have no intention of stopping, I grip her hips, and with no finesse pound her as hard as I can.

She comes again, even louder than the last time, sending pleasure shooting through my cock.

My own come takes over my body, rippling through me like blast waves. I grip her hips tighter, and pound her, listening to her as she makes incomprehensible sounds.

I come completely lost in the moment, completely lost in her response as I lose all illusion of control.

I rock back on my knees and she collapses on her side, out of breath and looking as satisfied as I feel.

If I were any other man, I’d get under the covers, and try to make this happen again.

Maybe get her in the hot tub I know is in her room, but I promised her I’d help with her mother and I meant it.

I release a sigh and scoot to the end of the bed. “We should talk about the strategy.”

She cocks her head and sits up to pull the sheet over her body. “Sure. But we’ve got all night, haven’t we?”

I lean over and kiss her softly. “They’ve given me a room for the week, but I’m not sure what the policy is on sleeping with guests.”

Her face falls. "You aren't staying the night with me?"

I shrug and keep my voice light as I tug on my jeans. "I have to work early. But I’ll be around if you need me."

Her expression lightens a little, so I at least know I have made her feel better. "I don't think I can tell her. This weekend has already been more than I can take."

I don’t worry about putting my shirt on, just give her an encouraging smile. “Under the ice, she’s miserable,” I say.

She frowns. “How can you be so sure, you only met her once.”

I can’t exactly tell her what my training entailed, so I just answer her.

“Haven’t you ever wondered why she picks on you the most?”

Her frown only grows. “Every damn day.”

I figured as much. “Out of the three of you, you’re the only one who isn’t doing and acting the way she wants.”

She shakes her head. “Not true for Danny. He barely shares any details about his life.”

I nod. “And that’s how she controls him, he’s so terrified of being who he really is, he’s compartmentalized his life and won’t let any of you know his deepest darkest secret.”

She stares at me, unblinking before her hand goes to her mouth. “He’s gay isn’t he?”

I nod slowly. “Based on the way he was checking out men in the restaurant, and the app I happened to see on his cell, yeah, he’s gay.”

Tears spring to her eyes and she blinks them away. “No wonder he’s so secretive. He could never tell her that. She’d disown him.”

Since I figured that was the case, I carry on listing why she’s the biggest target in the family.

“Your sister lives close by, she’s conservative and compliant, and your father is so beaten down he’s no longer a challenge. You on the other hand, are still not playing her game. Despite her obvious dislike of your job, and despite your challenges, you’ve turned into exactly what she hates most. An independent, successful woman in your own right.”

She runs her hands through her hair. “How could you possibly know all that about us?”

I check my watch, and know I need to wrap this up. “That’s not important. What’s important is that you’ll always be a target because you’re the strongest out of all of them.”

Her eyes narrow. “That’s all great observation Sherlock, but what can I do about it?”

I smile. “Plenty,” I say.