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The washroom door clicked open, and Xavier returned at that exact moment.

He held a warm, damp cloth in his hand, his hair slightly disheveled and his unbuttoned shirt hanging loose over his broad chest. His eyes immediately found hers, dark with that same earnest, protective warmth.

"April," Xavier murmured, crossing the room with steady, gentle steps.

He knelt before her, his large frame looking almost reverent as he carefully reached out with the warm towel to clean her skin. His touch was excruciatingly tender, his thumb lightly stroking her hip to keep her comfortable.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked softly, looking up into her dark eyes with genuine concern, his brow furrowing as he inspected her renewed skin. "I know I was... far too rough."

April looked down into his anxious, devoted face, her fingers reaching out to lightly trace the line of his jaw.

"I’m fine, Xavier," April answered plainly, her voice steady and raspy. "You didn’t hurt me. But the ache hasn’t gone away."

Xavier’s breath hitched violently, a heavy blush instantly rushing up his throat and staining his cheeks crimson. Hearing her state her lingering desire so directly—while looking at him with those clear, unblinking eyes—made his heart slam wildly against his ribs.

"April..." Xavier rasped out, his hand tightening against her waist as he leaned up, his forehead resting gently against her thigh. "Tell me what to do. Anything that will make it better for you... I’ll do it."

"Then," she leaned forward. "Why don’t you take me out to dinner tonight?"

Xavier’s head snapped up, his eyes widening in pure, stunned disbelief.

"Like on a... a date?" he stammered out, the word catching thick in his throat as the flush on his neck rapidly spread all the way to the tips of his ears.

April tilted her head, her eyes observing his utter fluster with that signature, unbothered calm. "Is dinner a problem? You look like I just asked you to scale a mountain."

"No! No, absolutely not!" Xavier blurted out quickly, standing up so fast he almost slammed against the desk. He caught himself, clearing his throat and hastily trying to smooth down his rumpled, unbuttoned shirt to regain a shred of his usual composure. "I mean... I would be honored, April. Truly. I just... I didn’t expect you to suggest something so..."

"Normal?" April offered, a faint, knowing curve touching her lips as she adjusted her clothing.

"I was going to say wonderful," Xavier confessed softly, his raspy voice dropping into a tender register.

He reached out, his warm hand gently taking hers and bringing her knuckles to his lips for a slow, reverent kiss. The lingering heat between them hadn’t fully dissipated, but the raw, frantic edge in his eyes had yielded to a deep, radiant joy. "Give me ten minutes to change into something proper, and I’ll take you wherever you want to go."

"Take your time," April murmured, her thumb lightly brushing his wrist. "I’ll go change too."

As Xavier turned toward his dressing room with a sudden spring in his step, April looked down at her hands. Seeing the usually formidable tycoon reduced to a flustered, eager mess over a simple dinner invitation was an unexpected, highly satisfying yield.

Her lips curved.

April retreated to her room, her mind already mapping out a subtle shift in strategy. Usually, she paid little mind to her wardrobe, opting for simple, comfortable pieces or soft, flowy dresses if it wasn’t an event like a gala or an auction.

Tonight, however, she decided to go all out—not in a typical glitzy evening-gown fashion, but in a look that projected sleek, sharp authority with an undeniably provocative edge.

She washed up properly to get rid of the smell of semen clinging to her thighs first and then she pulled on a white button-up shirt, buttoning it just enough to leave a hint of cleavage visible, rolling the sleeves up her forearms to showcase a luxury wristwatch and a few delicate silver bracelets.

She reached for the silver necklace Nat had gifted her, clasping it around her neck so the ’A’ pendant rested right above her chest. For her bottom half, she stepped into a short, tight black pencil skirt, paired with semi-transparent black stockings that hugged her legs, accentuating the smooth curve of her thighs.

Over it all, she threw a long, structured coat to ward off the evening chill.

April looked at herself int he mirror. It was her first ime dressing this much for anyone. She didn’t even dress this much when Nat was dragging her out on his own date, but she doubt he would’ve given her chance to spend this much time getting ready if she ever thought about it, that impatient beast.

He would want to drag her everywhere, so wearing a comfortable dress was better with him.

But despite this being her first real attempt to put in effort, it didn’t feel bad. It just... felt like a lot just to mess with someone like Xavier. She laughed. She couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

Finally, she stepped into a pair of black stilettos. She had almost never worn them and didn’t particularly know how to walk in them—so she fully planned on kicking them off at the first opportunity—but the sheer height and posture they granted were worth the effort.

When April made her way down the staircase, the sharp click of her heels echoing through the quiet foyer was very satisfying to the ear.

Xavier was already waiting near the main entrance. He was dressed impeccably in a tailored winter coat, but the moment his eyes landed on her, he froze. His breath caught sharply in his throat, his eyes traveling down her form in utter, stunned awe.

She looked as though she were stepping into a high-powered boardroom—or directly into a man’s wildest fantasy.

A quiet wave of satisfaction washed over April at his dramatic reaction. She glided down the final few steps, stopping right in front of him until her chest was nearly brushing against his broad frame.

"Don’t like what you see?" April asked, tilting her head with an amused, knowing gaze.

"No! No... it’s not that," Xavier stammered, his cheeks flushing instantly as his eyes involuntarily dropped to the tempting dip of her shirt, capturing the clear view of her cleavage. He swallowed hard, his throat working as he tried to keep his eyes focused on her face.

Gulping, Xavier slowly reached his hand out toward her shirt, his fingers trembling slightly in the air between them. He didn’t dare touch her as he liked, his eyes wide with a desperate, gentlemanly struggle.

"M-may I?" he rasped out softly, clearly asking for permission to button up the rest of her shirt to protect her from the cold—and from his own unravelling control.

April let out a light, airy laugh. "Xavier, you’re so cute when you’re shy."

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