xavier legette x black female oc
The satin pajama set I wore—soft, cream-colored, and barely clinging to my curvy frame—felt like the perfect outfit for a day of lounging. My curly brown hair was loose, brushing against the small of my back as I moved around the kitchen, humming Latto's song SOMEBODY.
The scent of freshly brewed tea lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of pine from the newly polished floors.
But peace was short-lived. Earlier that morning, I'd noticed a leak under the kitchen sink. At first, I thought it was just a small drip, something I could handle with a bucket and a YouTube tutorial.
But by midday, it had turned into a steady stream, pooling on the floor and threatening to ruin the newly installed cabinets.
Frustration bubbled up as I knelt down, mopping up the water with a towel, the cool liquid seeping through the fabric and chilling my knees. I sighed, knowing I was out of my depth.
With no other options, I called my mom. She was being the ever-resourceful woman she is, had insisted on sending over her neighbor, Xavier.
"I know it was a bad idea moving in the country." I poured me a glass of milk. "I feel like I should be in a penthouse or something. These damn bugs is killing me! There's gnats everywhere."
"Amber, you chose to live there. So why are you complaining?"
"Well probably because this was my grandparents house and I ain't want somebody to buy it so I bought it." I said in a duh tone.
"Chile whatever, I sent XL over there to fix those leaking pipes, you been complaining about. You complain about everything. I mean you're successful, you live in a big house, and you have your masters, you need to be thanking God." She added. Here she goes. I just shook my head.
"He'll have it fixed in no time." She said, her voice brimming with confidence
I had hesitated. The idea of a stranger—especially a professional athlete—coming into my home felt intrusive.
But the leak was getting worse, and I was out of ideas. "Fine," I gave in, "But tell him to hurry."
Now, as I stood in the kitchen, wiping up the water with a towel, I heard the crunch of gravel outside. My heart skipped a beat as I peered through the window. There he was, Xavier, striding up the walkway with a toolbox in hand. My breath caught in my throat.
He was shirtless, his dark skin glistening in the sunlight, showcasing a physique that screamed athlete. Overalls hung low on his hips, held up by thick suspenders, and a pair of worn boots completed the look. His hair was styled in neat plaits with a black durag on his head, and a goatee framed his strong jawline.
Yeah I love me a trappin'-ass, dark skinned country-ass.
A surge of heat flushed through me, and I suddenly felt self-conscious in my satin pajamas.
I smoothed down my pajama top, my fingers trembling slightly, and opened the door before he could knock. "Hi," I said, my voice softer than I intended. "You must be Xavier."
He turned, his dark brown eyes locking onto mine, and a slow, easy smile spread across his face. "Yeah that's me." He drawled, his accent thick and unmistakably country. "Heard you got a leak."
Yeah I got a leak alright.
His voice was deep, warm, and it sent a shiver down my spine. "Yeah, under the sink," I replied, stepping aside to let him in. "It started this morning, and I—."
Before I could finish, he'd already set his toolbox down and was making his way to the kitchen, his movements confident and purposeful. I followed, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and nervousness.
The scent of his cologne—something woody and masculine—filled the air as he passed, and I found myself inhaling deeply, my senses on high alert.
"So, you're an NFL player?" I asked, trying to fill the silence. My voice sounded unnaturally high, and I cleared my throat, wishing I could sound more composed.
He chuckled, a rich, hearty sound that made my stomach flutter. "Wide receiver. Been playing since I could walk." He crouched down in front of the sink, his overalls stretching taut across his muscular thighs. "But I ain't too bad with a wrench either."
I leaned against the counter, watching as he assessed the leak. His hands moved with practiced ease, unscrewing the pipes and inspecting them. There was something undeniably sexy about the way he worked—focused, competent, and completely unbothered by the situation.
The way his biceps flexed as he tightened a screw, the way his shoulders strained against the straps of his overalls—it was all too much. I felt my cheeks warm, and I looked away, pretending to be interested in the kitchen tiles.
"Here's the problem." He said, pointing to a cracked pipe. "This one's shot. I'll need to replace it."
"Oh." I muttered, feeling a pang of relief. "Do you have the parts?"
"Naw, but I can run to the hardware store real quick. You mind if I leave my truck here?"
"Not at all," I said, gesturing toward the driveway. "Take your time."
He stood, brushing off his hands, and turned to face me. For a moment, our eyes met, and I felt a jolt of something electric pass between us.
His gaze was intense, almost probing, and I found myself holding my breath. The air in the kitchen seemed to thicken, charged with an unspoken tension.
"You... new around here, ain't ya?" He asked, his voice low.
I nodded, suddenly shy. "Moved in a few months ago. Renovated my grandparents place."
"Looks good." He said, his eyes scanning the room. "You did all this yourself?"
"Most of it," I admitted, feeling a flush of pride. "With some help from contractors."
He smiled, and it was like the sun breaking through clouds. "Impressive. Not many folks got the patience for that."
"Thanks," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks.
The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy. I could feel his gaze on me, and my skin tingled under his scrutiny. Without thinking, I blurted, "Can I get you some water? I know it's hot out there."
"Sure," he said, his smile widening. "Ice cold, if you got it."
I moved to the fridge, my hands trembling slightly as I grabbed a glass and filled it with water and ice. When I turned around, he was still standing there, his eyes fixed on me. I handed him the glass, our fingers brushing for a fleeting moment. A spark shot up my arm, and I felt my breath hitch.
"Preciate ya," He said, taking a long sip. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and I found myself staring, mesmerized.
And then, without warning, he closed the distance between us. His lips were on mine before I could process what was happening. My eyes widened in shock, but his kiss was firm, insistent, and I found myself melting into it.
His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer, and I felt the hard planes of his chest against mine. His skin was warm, his scent intoxicating, and I was drowning in the sensation.
My mind screamed stop, but my body had other ideas. His kiss was hungry, demanding, and I responded without thinking, my hands tangling in his plaits as I kissed him back.
He lifted me effortlessly, his hands sliding down to grip my ass, and I gasped into his mouth. He pressed me against the counter, his body pressing into mine, and I felt his hardness against my stomach. My satin pajama bottoms were bunched up, and I could feel the coolness of the countertop against my bare skin. My heart was racing, my breath coming in short gasps as the reality of what was happening sank in.
"Xavier," I breathed, my voice shaky. "What are you—"
"Shh baby," He said, his lips trailing down my neck. His breath was hot against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. "Just let me."
His hands were everywhere, exploring, claiming, and I was powerless to stop him. He kissed his way down my collarbone, his breath hot against my skin, and I arched into him, moaning softly.
His fingers hooked into the waistband of my pajama bottoms, tugging them down just enough to expose the lace of my panties.
My stomach fluttered with nervousness, and I felt a rush of heat between my legs.
"Body like a benz shawty. " He whispered, his voice rough with desire.
His words sent a rush of heat through me, and I felt my shyness crumbling. His hands slid under my panties, his fingers brushing against my core, and I gasped, my head falling back.
"You already wet for me." He growled, his voice thick with satisfaction.
I couldn't deny it. My body was on fire, aching for him, and I wanted him with a desperation that scared me. His fingers slipped inside me, and I moaned, my hips bucking against his hand.
"Fuck," He muttered, his thumb pressing against my clit. "You feel so good."
His touch was firm, confident, and I was spiraling out of control. My breath came in short gasps as he worked his fingers inside me, his thumb circling my clit in a rhythm that had me teetering on the edge.
"Xavier," I whimpered, my nails digging into his shoulders. "I—."
"Gone and cum baby." He commanded, his voice low and commanding. "Let go, baby."
His words pushed me over the edge. My body shook as my orgasm ripped through me, waves of pleasure crashing over me like a tidal wave. I cried out, my legs trembling, and he held me up, his lips pressing against my forehead.
"That's it," He said, his voice gentle now. "That's my girl."
When I finally came down, my body felt like jelly. He eased me off the counter, his hands steadying me as I tried to catch my breath. My pajama bottoms were still around my ankles, and I felt a rush of embarrassment.
"I—I don't know what happened." I stammered, pulling them back up. My face was burning, and I avoided his gaze, suddenly self-conscious.
He smiled, that slow, easy smile that made my heart flutter. "You don't gotta explain nothin', Amber. That was... damn."
I looked away, my cheeks burning. "I should... I should probably clean up the water."
He nodded, his expression softening. "Yeah, ight. I'll go grab that pipe. Be back in a bit."
He grabbed his toolbox and headed for the door, leaving me standing in the kitchen, my heart still racing. I leaned against the counter, trying to process what had just happened. Xavier was... overwhelming. His confidence, his touch, his raw, unapologetic demeanor—it was a lot to take in.
But there was no denying the chemistry between us, the way he'd awakened something in me that I hadn't even known was dormant.
The front door slammed shut, and I heard his boots on the porch. My heart skipped a beat as I turned to face him, unsure of what to say or do.
He walked in, a new pipe in hand, and our eyes met. For a moment, we just stood there, the air thick with unspoken tension.
"You ight?" He asked, his voice gentle.
I nodded, my voice catching in my throat. "Yeah. Just... surprised, I guess."
He smiled, that same slow smile that made my knees weak. "Good surprised, I hope."
I couldn't help but smile back. "Maybe."
He set the pipe down and took a step closer, his eyes searching mine. "Amber, I ain't one for rushin' things. But... if you willin', I'd like to see where this goes."
My heart swelled, and I felt a rush of warmth spread through me. "Me too." I whispered.
He reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek, and I leaned into his touch. "Good." He said, his voice low and husky. "'Cause I ain't lettin' you go."
And just like that, the moment was broken by the sound of his toolbox clattering to the floor. We both laughed, the tension easing into something lighter, something hopeful.
"You wanna help me with this pipe?" He asked, gesturing to the sink. "Or you wanna keep... explorin'?"
I raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at my lips. "Depends. You got time for both?"
His grin was wicked, and he pulled me closer, his lips brushing against mine. "For you? Always."
As we stood there, in the middle of my kitchen, the leak forgotten, The air in the kitchen crackled with possibility, and I felt a thrill of excitement at the thought of what lay ahead.
Xavier's hands were gentle but firm as he guided me back to the counter, his eyes dark with passion. "You sure you wanna keep goin'?" He asked, his voice a low rumble.
I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. "I'm sure."
He kissed me again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against mine. His hands roamed over my body, tracing the curves of my waist, the swell of my breasts. I moaned into his mouth, my hands gripping his shoulders as he lifted me onto the counter. My pajama bottoms were discarded, and I felt the cool granite against my bare skin.
"You so goddamn sexy." He growled, his lips trailing down my neck. "I can't get enough of you."
His words sent a rush of heat through me, and I arched into him, craving his touch. He kissed his way down my chest, his lips brushing over my breasts, teasing the peaks until they hardened.
I gasped, my head falling back as he took one into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the nipple.
"Oh Xavier." I moaned, my hands tangling in his hair. "Please."
He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated against my skin. "Please what, baby?"
"Please touch me." I whispered, my voice desperate. "I want you."
He looked up at me, his eyes burning with intensity. "You sure bout that?"
I nodded, my breath coming in short gasps. "Fuck yes, I'm sure."
He stood, his eyes never leaving mine, and unbuttoned his overalls, letting them fall to the floor. My eyes widened as I took in the sight of him—his muscular chest, his defined abs, and the thick length of his erection straining against his boxers. My mouth went dry, and I felt a fresh wave of desire wash over me.
"You like what you see?" He asked, his voice laced with satisfaction.
HELL YEAH, YOU KNOW I DO.
I swallowed hard, my voice barely a whisper. "Yeah. I do."
He stepped closer, his hands sliding down my thighs, pushing them apart. I felt exposed, vulnerable, but the look in his eyes—hungry, worshipful—made me feel good.
He knelt between my legs, his breath hot against my core as he leaned in, his lips brushing against my panties.
"These gotta go," He said, his fingers hooking into the lace.
I lifted my hips, helping him slide them off. He tossed them aside, his eyes never leaving mine. His hands roamed over my thighs, my hips, before settling on my waist. He leaned in, his lips pressing against my inner thigh, his breath tickling my sensitive skin.
"Xavier," I whimpered, my hands gripping the edge of the counter. "Please."
He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Patience, baby. I wanna make you feel good."
His lips trailed higher, his tongue flicking against my clit, and I gasped, my hips bucking against his mouth. He hummed, the vibration sending pleasure spiraling through me.
His hands gripped my hips, holding me still as he kissed, licked, and sucked, his tongue mapping every inch of my core.
"Oh baby." I moaned, my head falling back. "Xavier, I—."
"Go ahead and let go." He muttered, his voice muffled against my skin.
His words were my undoing. My body tensed, then released, as my orgasm ripped through me. I cried out, my hands gripping his hair, my legs trembling as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. He held me steady, his lips pressing kisses against my inner thighs as I rode out the storm.
When I finally came down, my body felt like jelly. He stood, his eyes dark with desire, and pulled me to the edge of the counter. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, as he positioned himself at my entrance.
"You ready for me mama?" He asked, his voice low and rough.
I nodded, my breath coming in short gasps. "Yes just fuck me, Xavier."
He thrust into me, slow and steady, filling me completely. I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move, his hips snapping against mine. The counter pressed into my back, the cool granite a stark contrast to the heat of our bodies.
"You feel so good." He groaned, his voice thick with desire. "This pussy so fuckin' tight."
His thrusts were deep, relentless, and I met him with equal passion, my hips moving in time with his. The kitchen was filled with the sounds of our passion—our moans, the slap of skin against skin, the creak of the counter beneath us.
"Xavier," I cried, my voice hoarse. "I'm cumming."
He smiled, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Me too, baby. Wait for me."
His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent. I felt the coil in my stomach tighten, the pleasure building to an unbearable pitch.
"Now," He commanded, his voice low and commanding.
Our bodies moved as one, our cries echoing through the kitchen as we climaxed together. My walls clenched around him, milking him as he filled me with his release. He buried his face in my neck, his breath warm against my skin, as we rode out the storm.
When it was over, he collapsed on top of me, his weight pressing me into the counter. I laughed, a soft, breathless sound, as he lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine.
"Damn," he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. "That was... something."
I smiled, my hands running up and down his back. "Yeah. It was."
He kissed me softly, his lips brushing against mine. "You ight?"
I nodded, my voice soft. "Better than alright."
He chuckled, pulling out of me and helping me off the counter. My legs felt like jelly, and I leaned against him, grateful for his steadying presence.
"You still wanna fix that pipe?" I asked, a playful smile tugging at my lips.
He grinned, that slow, easy grin that made my heart flutter. "Yeah. But first..."
He pulled me into his arms, his lips pressing against mine in a kiss that was tender, sweet, and full of promise. And as we stood there, in the middle of my kitchen, the leak forgotten.
He Mr. Get It Done, I'm Mrs. One of One.
