Page 25 of Wicked Lies Grow Wildflowers
“Smells good,” he says as he sniffs the air.
“Well, don’t get too excited, it’s a frozen, store-bought pizza.”
“Frozen store-bought pizza happens to be my favorite meal. After you, of course,” he winks.
My face goes red but I laugh, caught slightly off guard. I need to get used to his witty and sexual remarks if he’s going to be sticking around for a while. My smile almost falters as I realize Ijust might want him to stay around. “Good to know. Please, have a seat.” I take a deep breath and try to bite back another smile.
We gorge ourselves on pizza and he picks off all the olives which is an affront to me as they are the best part of supreme pizzas. That may be a bigger red flag than him initially creeping around and leaving me notes, in all honesty. But when he sees my appalled face he offers them all to me, so I guess I can look past this flaw.
Xander and I recap our week and my wine addled brain lets my upcoming visit to my mother’s slip. “I’ve gotta swing by my mother’s house sometime soon.”Shit.
“Your mother? Tell me about her,” he replies.
Oh God,not this again. Please, not this. “Oh, like I’ve said before, there isn’t much to tell.” I try to brush his inquiry off, but he isn’t having it this time.
“Really? Nothing at all? What are you hiding from me, Wildflower?”
That nickname is going to become my undoing, I just know it. “I’m not hiding a thing. There’s just nothing of note to share.” I can’t meet his eyes as I speak, too ashamed of the reality.
“I know when you’re lying to me, Maeren, and I really hate liars, you know that by now. But then again, I’m finding it impossible to hate you, so maybe I’ll coax the truth out? Hmm?” He leans forward and brushes his nose against my neck.
I take a sharp inhale at the contact. “Why do you want to know this so badly?” my voice sounds like a plea.
“Because I want to knowyou. Everything about you, every detail that’s made you who you are at your very core,” he whispers as his tongue traces from my collarbone to my ear.
“Mycore?” I scoff. “I don’t even know myself that well.”
“You do, so let me in. Tell me everything about you. Now.” He bites down on my neck and sucks on the spot, his tongue soothing the sting. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to carry on aconversation when all I want to do is close my eyes and get lost in him, but something tells me I won’t get what I want if I don’t play this game.
I’m emboldened, knowing how badly he wants me, and not just my body butme.Maybe I shouldn’t be scared to show him my truths after all, maybe the darkness I’ve been running from is child's play to him. “What do I get for telling you?” I tease.
“A reward for being a good girl.” His mouth finds mine and latches on. My tongue delves out to meet his and I’m swept up in the taste of him, wanting more. I pull myself into his lap and he breaks our connection. “Ah ah ah. No honesty, no reward. That’s how this works.”
I let out a frustrated groan and lean back, making some space between our bodies. “Where do I even begin?” I rub a hand down my face as I grasp for some resolve. “Okay. Okay,” I say more for self-reassurance than anything else. “Well, I don’t really have a relationship with my mother as I’ve said. My father left when I was only six, and my mother blamed me for it. She said I was too much, that I ruined her and it drove him away.” I fix my stare beyond Xander, focusing on a small crack along the wall. If I don’t make eye contact, I can keep myself together; seeing him give me pity will only break me.
I clear my throat before continuing, “She uh, became distant to me on a good day, and cruel to me on the worst ones, which was most of the time. She’d openly blame me for every problem in her life, tell me she wished I was dead, and called me every name you can imagine. And sometimes she’d beat me, pull my hair, slap me, shove me. She just wasn’t a good mother, so I don’t like talking about her much.” I shift my legs and tear my gaze from the wall. When I look to Xander and meet his eyes, they are full of rage, the cords of his neck rigid and flexed, his jaw ticking.
“Mother or not, if I ever come across her disrespecting you, let alone physically assaulting you, I’ll make her fucking pay forit,” he seethes. I know he would, too. I can tell he’s the kind of man to stick up for me, no matter what it would take.
“Don’t worry about it, I don’t see her much anyways, and she can’t hurt me anymore, not really. Not like she used to when I was young.”
“I’ll always worry for you, Maeren. Always. No one deserves that, not from anyone, let alone a parent, and especially not a child.” A tear slides down my cheek at that, and he wipes it with the pad of his thumb before bringing it to his mouth and licking it away. “From now on, the only tears you cry are for me and the pleasure I give you,” he vows.
Staring at him, dumbstruck and speechless, I try and catch my breath to keep more tears from falling. I’ve never felt so seen and accepted before. I almost forget how shameful this level of intimacy usually makes me feel. For the first time in my life, I feel like whatever this is between us could be more than I’d ever dared to dream of, something real and lasting.
“Then show me some of that pleasure,” I say against his lips and I crash into him, needing every inch of his body against mine.
He growls into my mouth and hooks my legs around his waist, grabbing my ass and lifting me with him as he stands. “I want to take you properly. Which way to your bedroom, Maeren?”
“Down the hall, to the right,” I explain and then he sucks on my neck while he carries me to my room. My bedroom door is kicked open and he walks us to the edge of the bed, dropping me onto the mattress. He kicks off his boots and climbs over me, his eyes hungry. I fist his shirt and drag his face to mine, grasping it in my hands as I study every angle and shadow. Studying the overwhelming want I’ve never seen on anyone’s face before.
He drops his lips to mine and we’re a mix of frenzied kisses, roaming hands, and slow languid movements, neither one of usbeing able to control ourselves or the pace. I rip off his shirt and his hands delve under mine, sliding up my stomach to cup my breasts as his mouth works my throat. I need him closer, so close every inch of me aches for contact.
He slips off my shirt and pulls my pants off, stopping to admire me, looking awestruck as he does. So it wasdefinitelya good choice that I wore my red lace set tonight. He lets out a heavy breath and runs a hand through his hair, looking at war with himself.
“What’s wrong?” I question, puzzled by his drawn out stalling.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I just want to savor this, but I don’t know if I have the restraint. I want all of you. Right now. And I don’t know if I can be as slow as I’d like to be.”
