Chapter 47 SEXUAL ASSULT

Chapter 47 SEXUAL ASSULT
VERONICA POV

I lifted my hand and rested it lightly against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under my palm. “Hey,” I whispered, searching his eyes. “Wanna talk about it?”

A slow smile touched his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sure. I’d really like to talk about it with you. We’ve never had a deep conversation before.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to sound nonchalant even as my pulse quickened. “Uhmm… why do you even want to have a deep conversation with me? I’m not your wife.”

He let out a low, warm laugh that vibrated through his chest under my hand. “If I hadn’t studied you for the longest time, I doubt I’d be able to deal with your unpredictable ass.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Some seconds you’re acting like you want me — and I know you do. The next minute, it’s… otherwise.” He tilted his head, his gaze softening as he brushed a thumb across my cheek. “You don’t have to hide your emotions from me, okay?”

I rolled my eyes again, mostly to hide how his words made my stomach flutter. I pulled away gently and headed toward the kitchen, needing space before I did something stupid like melt right there in his arms.

“Have a seat,” I told him over my shoulder as I pulled out the coffee maker.

While the machine hummed to life, I moved around the counter with practiced ease. I measured the grounds carefully, added just the right amount of water, then reached for the sugar. Even as my mind raced with everything he’d just said, I found myself adjusting the sweetness exactly how he might like it.

“You know, I shouldn’t have gotten all the supplies,” he said from the stool he’d claimed at the island, watching me. “I love when you make coffee the traditional way, just with your hands.”

I clenched my teeth lightly, fighting a smile. “I haven’t even made you coffee before.Then why did you even get me the machine?”

He shrugged, that infuriatingly charming smirk playing on his lips. “I’m just saying.”

I poured the coffee into two glass mugs, watching the steam curl upward. 

“Do you know I love making coffee for people?” I asked

He nodded slowly, but the look in his eyes told me he wasn’t buying it. “Or… you just love when I lick the coffee cream from your lips. I know you want it.”

I bit my lower lip hard, heat rushing to my face. “Oh please, Mr. Cross.”

His smile widened instantly, eyes darkening with obvious pleasure. “Say that again. I like when you call me that.”

I laughed softly and lowered my voice, making it deliberately seductive just to tease him back. “Mr. Cross.”

Xavier threw his head back and laughed out loud — a rich, genuine sound that made my chest feel too tight. “That’s so cute and sexy, mi amor.”

I placed his glass of coffee in front of him and set mine beside it. Before I could even sit, he reached for my mug first, brought it to his lips for a slow sip, then held it to my mouth. I took a sip while watching him over the rim. He took another sip from the same spot, eyes locked on mine the entire time. The casual intimacy of it made my toes curl.

“I should make coffee for you someday,” he said, setting the mug down.

“What? Does my coffee taste bad?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Well… you said it yourself,” he shrugged, but the playful glint in his eyes gave him away.

“What?” I laughed, lightly slapping his arm.

“I’m pulling your leg, amor. It tastes heavenly.”

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face, warm and unguarded for a moment.

“So tell me,” he continued, his tone shifting gently, “have you spoken to your family since you left LA?”

My stomach twisted instantly. I didn’t want that wound opened right now.

“Why are you asking?”

“Since you came back, you haven’t said a thing about them. Especially your dad. Just curious.”

“They’re probably good without me…” I muttered, staring into my coffee.

I felt his gaze on me, patient and steady. “Wait… aren’t we supposed to be talking about you and whatever happened between you and your brother?”

“Yeah, we will. But let’s start with you.”

I sighed, shoulders dropping a little. “I really don’t wanna talk about this, but since it’s you… okay.” I took a deep breath. “To answer your question, I haven’t spoken to them for the past five years. Not my mom, not my dad, and not my sisters either. I miss them so much it hurts sometimes, but I try not to think about it too deeply. The early years in Atlanta were hell. I couldn’t afford to break down every night.”

Xavier listened quietly, his hand reaching across the counter to cover mine. The warmth of his touch made it harder to keep my walls up.

“Since you’re back in LA, have you thought of going to see them?”

I shook my head slowly, then nodded once. “I have… but I feel they’re doing better without me. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“I doubt you would be. You should definitely see your family. They can’t be angry forever.”

“Angry?” I let out a bitter laugh. “I should be the one who’s angry. My dad… he called my unborn kids bastards back then.”

Xavier’s brow furrowed deeply. His jaw tightened, and a low, animalistic groan escaped him. “He called my children bastards?”

The protective edge in his voice sent a dangerous thrill through me. I reached out instinctively, placing my hand on his arm to calm him. “He didn’t know it was you. I didn’t even mention your name. I didn’t want to drag a total stranger into my mess. They’re my parents… I think their anger is justified.”

He nodded slowly, but I could see the tension still lingering in his shoulders.

“Can we stop talking about me and talk about you now?” I asked, desperate to shift the focus.

Xavier exhaled heavily and leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. For the first time, he looked tired. “Well… I was sent into the military for seven years because my brother framed me for a crime I didn’t commit. Basically, a sexual assault case.”