Wanted Always (Xander Barns) (18 page)

But they aren’t the same. One came out
normal, from what it seems. Or maybe I’m wrong; perhaps they are both weird and
Liam’s just better at hiding his behind-the-scenes activities.

Xander loves playing dress up in ladies’
undergarments. What is Liam’s thing?

And why do I want to know? It’s not like
I’ll be participating in any of these kinds of activities with him.

Would I?

I shake it off.

“Wow, two of you. Well, thank God, you
both didn’t turn out the same,” I exclaim, sounding relieved. Liam doesn’t say
anything. “Or maybe you are the same as he is,” I say to him softly.

His deep-blue eyes harden again, briefly
scanning my body as he leans back onto his SUV. “That depends on what different
thing you’re talking about.”

A few seconds of silence pass by. I don’t
know what to say to that innuendo; well no, I do know what I
want
to
say; it just would have been stupid to.

“Well, let’s leave that a mystery now,
shall we?” I smile at him, feeling the power come back. I’m not a slave to my
body after all. “I’m sorry you were dragged into all of this. I’m going to go
now.” I turn and walk around the car to the curb, waving my arm into the air to
hail a taxi over. I feel a hand pull my waving arm down. “What are you doing?”

“Let me give you a ride home,” Liam says
softly, staring into my eyes, doing things to my body that made me feel a
little antsy. “I feel terrible for how I treated you.”

I smile and shake my head. “Dude, it’s all
good. I’m over it; I get why you did it. And I would feel more comfortable
taking a taxi; I mean, I barely know you.”

He stares at me for a few seconds before
nodding. He doesn’t know me either. I could be a Demetria in hiding, waiting to
have my way with him and keep him forever tied up somewhere.

Demetria is totally one of those kinds of
girls; even if I’m only assuming, I’m sure of it.

A taxi rolls to the curb after I wave it
over. I open the car door and turn to Liam, but he rounds the taxi and speaks
with the driver. I look through the passenger door’s window and see Liam hand
over some money to the taxi driver. He finishes with the taxi driver and comes
back around, stopping in front of me.

“Why did you do that?” I ask confused; my
insides melting all over again. That’s nice of him, even though he sort of
kidnapped me earlier. I really should be demanding bigger compensation than a
free taxi trip home, but I’m not like that. “You didn’t have to do that. I have
money.”

Liam caresses my shoulder briefly, looking
into my eyes. “I did something horrible; it’s the least I can do.”

I can think of a few things you can do to
make it all better…a lot of things.

Don’t blurt that out!

“Okay…thanks,” I say to him softly. “Bye.”

“Bye,” Liam replies. I tuck into the car
and Liam shuts the door.

“Where to, Miss?” The taxi driver asks,
turning in his seat.

I tell him the place and address. “You
know where that is?”

“Of course,” he states, and shifts the car
into drive. I look out the window and stare at Liam. As the car pulls away, I
wave, and Liam waves back.

As we drive away, I turn from the window
and settle with my clutch on my lap, finally feeling able to breathe for the
first time.

There is only one slight problem: my body
doesn’t feel at ease; it feels restless and antsy.

The taxi drives away from downtown, and I
wonder how the rest of the night will go. I have to wake up early tomorrow to
go have coffee with Dad, but the way I’m feeling right now, I don’t know how
I’m going to fall asleep.

Shit. Those Barns brothers…both a problem
in their own ways.

Thanks, Liam.

****

Twenty minutes later, the taxi pulls in
front of the Inn.

“It’s all been paid for, Miss,” the taxi
driver says.

“Okay, thanks. Have a good night,” I tell
him, and pull the handle to open the door.

“You, too,” he says as I shut the door. I
hear the car drive away once I open the front door to the Inn’s lobby. It’s
quiet inside, the only sound coming from the rattle the air conditioner is
making. I walk up to the front desk where the security guard has his feet up on
the desk, and his back leaned into his chair. His eyes are closed.

“Hi,” I whisper, careful not to make him
jump. His eyes snap open and he quickly peels his legs off the desk. He gives
me a small smile. “I’m here to pick up my key for room 306. My name is Marisa.”

The security guard grins knowingly. “Yeah,
some lively people dropped it off a few hours ago. They were interesting.” He
pulls out my key card and places it on top of the desk.

“Yeah, they’re something,” I chuckle back,
knowing exactly what he means. I take the key card off the desk. “Good night.”

“Have a good one,” he says back, then
tucks himself back into his previous position. I walk down the long hallway to
my room.

It’s quiet. If there’s anyone else renting
a room they’re all sleeping.

Sleeping? How am I going to do that with
the way I feel? I insert my key card into the electronic lock. It goes green. I
pull out the card, open the door, and walk into darkness.

“Where is that light switch?” I murmur,
walking into the room and closing the door behind me. I finally find the light
switch, turn it on, and gasp.

What?!
My eyes bulge out of their sockets at the state
of my room. Things, lots of things, are scattered artfully around my room. I
close my mouth and quickly march to my bed where there’s tagged clothing
covering every inch of the bed.

All these clothes! There are jeans,
shirts, skirts, dresses, and shorts, and they’re all clearly expensive. I check
the tags on them; the price is cut off. But from the brands themselves, I can
tell that everything on my bed could pay for my rent for the entire year.
Beside the bed are three pairs of shoes: a pair of plum ballet flats, a pair of
black Chucks, and a pair of leather boots with a skinny heel and a red sole.

OMG, is that what I think it is? I can’t
believe this…I can’t breathe! I hold the boots against my feet; they are to the
knee.

Why did he do this?
I’m totally bewildered and skeptical. My
eyes glance down beside my bed where a brand new, dark green, lush set of
luggage sits. I carefully put the boot back beside its partner.

Oh my God! Luggage too. My hands skim the
hard surface.

Why has he given me all of this? I know
one thing: Xander doesn’t do things because he’s the generous type; that
bastard wants something from me just like he had for the makeover.

Well, he has another thing coming if he
thinks I’ll be doing anything for him.

I put my clutch on the desk, and sit on
the chair to take off my heels. I then check my own bag, making sure everything
is still in there just in case Xander asked the three to go on a scavenger hunt
for some mementos. Everything is in check, but I do a double-take when I notice
a large shopping bag on the other side of the bed. I grab it pulling it close
to my body; it’s filled with tissue paper. As I push the tissue paper to the
side, I gasp. I pull out a leather bag and check the brand.

DKNY, oh my God! My mouth drops as I
inspect the bag. It has two parallel zippers that circle around the bag, and a
tassel made of leather strips that are tied together at one end.

I can’t believe this!

I love it! I bring the bag to my chest and
hug it; that’s right, I hug the bag as if it were my newborn baby. I know right
now that the bag and I are meant to be.

We are one. And whatever that bastard
wants in exchange for it, I’ll consider, if it’s harmless enough. The things we
do for pretty things.

I squeal loudly; holding the bag’s strap,
pulling it over my shoulder. I march to the full-length mirror on the wall to
examine it in all its glory.

At first glance, I sigh loudly. So this is
what love really feels like.

Screw Ben, screw Xander…and fuck it…screw
Liam, too.

The thought of Liam and screwing takes
over my brain from the amazing bag.

Damn it, don’t think about that…screw and
Liam should never be in the same sentence for me, not if I don’t want to combust
into flames.

I grab my clutch and pull out my phone.
Chances are, there’s going to be some texts from the bastard-king himself
requesting a few favors for the booty of clothes he gave me without me asking
for them.

There is only one text. No emails.

I think of Ben…I hope he’s okay. Even
though he is the one with the support from Mom and Gwen. I had no one to help
me through the breakup.

I shake it off and open the text. It just
came a few minutes ago.

From Xander: 1:29am.

You’re welcome again.

By the way, check your bathroom. Maria
left a stunning surprise hanging on the hook.

I want pictures…and a few other things.

But that will be discussed later…

Sweet dreams my trusted little sidekick.
Tonight was so much fun.

Hug, kiss, hug…other things.

Other things? My eyes narrowed at the last
few words. What the hell did that mean? I shake my head; it doesn’t matter. I’m
done. I don’t owe that guy anything. These clothes and shoes and (gulp) the
bag, they were given without my say so. I accepted the makeover this morning,
but these things were given without my acceptance.

I’m not doing anything else for him. I’m
already feeling cold down there because I’m sans underwear.

Speaking of underwear…I pull out a fresh
pair of plain black undies from my carry-on and slide them on. I carefully pull
off the dress and place it on the bed with the rest of the clothes.

So pretty…I stare at it all, transfixed
for a moment. I break the stare when I realize that I have the bustier on; how
am I going to get it off?

After a few minutes of playing with the
back, I figure out a way to get it off. It’s like a bra, but with way more
clasps down the back. I place it with the rest of the clothes and walk over to
the bathroom wearing only my underwear. Hanging on the hook inside the bathroom
is a dark green and blue, strapless, chiffon dress that flows down to my knees.

Oh my God! I stare at the beautiful dress
that looks like it could fly by the panels of chiffon around the skirt. But
why? I have no place to wear it. Dad’s party was a one-time thing; I have no
other parties to go to, and I don’t know anyone in Toronto to go out with.

What is he up to? I play with the fabric
for a few seconds; it falls soft and silky on my fingers. I decide I will worry
about the dress tomorrow. I wash my face and all of Sammy’s hard work comes
off. My hair, however, is hair-sprayed to oblivion, and when I touch it again
it feels hard as rock. I’ll have to take a shower in the morning.

I carefully examine each piece of clothing
before folding and putting it in the brand new luggage. I place the shoes on
top. There is no more room for the dresses. I guess I will have to hold them on
my way home tomorrow.

Home tomorrow. The weekend that couldn’t
go fast enough has finally come to its conclusion. I place the BCBG dress in
its dress cover and hang it in the bathroom with the other dress. I put a plain
black bra on with a soft green shirt and climb into bed after turning off the
lights.

Wow, what a night! My body settles into
the mattress. But all of a sudden, the calm and relaxed feelings quickly vanish
as my mind settles on a more problematic thought.

Liam.

Imagining his large, strong fingers
skimming my inner thigh has me wet in an instant.

Which is not the plan for tonight. I just
want to get some sleep. But I know that’s not going to happen unless I nip the
lust-filled feelings in the bud so Liam will get out of my mind and I can go to
sleep. I want to leave tonight here forever, before I move back to my regular
drama-free life.

My hands slide down my stomach; I imagine
Liam grabbing them, showing them where to go, and I arch my back in response.
His fingers intersect with mine, and both of our fingers slide into my panties.

I moan quietly, imagining his slightly
ripped shirt falling off his hard muscled body, showing me every inch of his
perfect body as it comes to rest on top of me. His other hand glides over my
stomach, up around my breasts, resting on my cheeks, caressing them as he
stares deep into my eyes. I imagine his other hand orchestrating the symphony
of all orgasms deep down in my core.

But not yet.

They move methodically, like they know
exactly what they are doing, which makes me moan louder. I want each moment of
ecstasy from his touch to last forever; but with each stroke, each firm caress,
I’m on the verge of exploding. And that’s very, very bad, because it was going
to be over, and I don’t want this to be over.