The Ending I Want

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The Ending I Want Page 7

by Samantha Towle


  He gives me a confused look. Then, he cups my face in his hands and leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

  “See you soon,” he whispers.

  Then, he’s leaving with Megan walking him to the door, and Jamie is ushering me to my seat.

  “That man is sex on a stick,” Jamie says to me as I sit in the seat. “I hope you don’t mind me saying.”

  “Not at all. He is sex on a stick.” I smile at the memory of Liam being inside me just an hour ago and all the dirty things he did to me in bed.

  Jamie puts a gown around me and fastens it at the back of my neck. “He’s not just hot either. He’s a really good guy. He helped Megan buy this place, you know.”

  Wow. He bought her this salon.

  I have this sinking feeling in my stomach. He must really like her.

  I can’t believe he brought me here. If they had something together and he liked her enough to buy her a salon…then he brings me here, to meet with the woman he’s currently fucking…well, it’s just poor taste.

  I suddenly feel bad for Megan, too.

  “Wow. That was kind of him.”

  “Yeah. Liam is a great guy. Sadly, he’s straight though, but you already knew that.” He gives me a conspiratorial wink. “Have you met Cam yet?”

  “I haven’t.” I have no clue who Cam is.

  “He’s Megan’s older brother. He and Liam are best friends. Known each other since school. Now, Cam is one fine male specimen. Straight as an arrow as well.” He frees my hair from the gown. “How did you meet Liam?”

  I meet his eyes in the mirror. “On the flight here.”

  “So, how long have you known him?”

  I flick a glance at the clock. “Um…about…thirty-six hours.”

  Jamie grins at me, causing a goofy smile to slide onto my lips. “You are my idol, girl.” He lifts his fist, fist-bumping me. “Right, I’m just going to mix up your color, and then I’ll be back. Then, you can tell me what the inside of Liam’s apartment looks like ’cause I’ve always wondered.”

  He gives me a wink, and I’m guessing apartment is code for something else.

  “Do you want a drink?” he asks, his hand on my shoulder.

  “Coffee would be great.” I smile.

  Three hours later, my hair is three inches shorter, and it’s pink.

  And I have to say, I love it.

  It looks really edgy and hot.

  Liam hasn’t returned yet, and I’m at the counter, ready to pay.

  “Taylor’s already paid for,” Megan tells the girl at the reception counter.

  “I am?”

  “Liam paid. Didn’t he tell you?”

  “No. He didn’t.”

  “Sounds like Liam.” Megan smiles softly. “Speak of the devil.”

  I turn to see Liam coming through the door. Instead of feeling happy to see him, I just feel pissed off.

  First, he brings me here. Then, he pays for my hair, like I’m his little woman.

  I don’t know which I’m madder about.

  “Wow, look at you…gorgeous.” He slips his fingers into my hair.

  Ignoring his compliment, I turn abruptly, forcing his hand to fall away.

  “Thank you,” I say to Megan. “And would you give this to Jamie and tell him thanks?” I push a twenty-pound note into her hand.

  “Of course.” Megan smiles.

  Moving away, I brush past Liam, leaving the salon.

  “Hey”—Liam catches my arm as I’ve just exited the salon—“what’s wrong?”

  I spin around to face him, a frown on my face. “You paid for my hair.” My tone is accusing.

  Wariness enters his eyes. “I did.”

  “And why did you do that?”

  “Because I can.”

  “Because you can.” I grit my teeth.

  I am mad about the money, but really, I’m pissier about Megan. It’s stupid, I know, but it is what it is.

  And his superior attitude is annoying me even more.

  So, he’s going to get it about the money and not about the fact that he took me to his fuck buddy’s hair salon.

  “I can pay for my own hair, thank you very much. I’m not a fucking charity case.”

  He frowns, his dark brows drawing together. “I know you’re not a charity case. I just thought it would be a nice thing to do.”

  “Well, I don’t want your nice.” I turn from him and start walking again.

  He stops me and stands in front of me. Refusing to look at him, I stare past him.

  “Is there something else going on here?” he asks.

  “No.” Yes.

  “So, you’re just mad because I paid for your hair?”

  I grind my teeth together and bring my eyes to his. “Yes. I don’t like people to pay for me. I pay my own way in this world.”

  “Okay.” He blows out a breath, the look in his eyes contrite.

  And then, suddenly, I feel like a total bitch.

  “I’m sorry I paid for your hair without consulting you first. I wasn’t trying to be a dick. I just wanted to treat you. A welcome-to-England kind of thing.”

  “You welcomed me to England just fine last night with your tongue.”

  That’s my lame way of trying to defuse the situation I just created. It’s a crappy attempt. But it makes him laugh, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. The sound eases my guilt a little.

  “Yeah. That was definitely a good way to welcome you to my country.”

  I smile, unable not to.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice is low, and it touches me deep inside.

  Liam lifts a hand to my head and wraps a lock of my new pink hair around his finger. “Your hair looks really sexy. I can’t wait to see it spread out all over my pillow.” He steps close, pressing his chest to mine.

  And, just like that, he has me.

  I stare up into his eyes. “I think we can arrange that.”

  He drives his fingers into my hair, gripping it, and tips my head back. “I’m going to wrap your sexy pink hair around my fist and pull it hard while I fuck you from behind.”

  I swallow down. “I-I…think I can live with that.” My voice trembles with a sudden need. A need for him.

  He brings his mouth down to mine and kisses me deeply, slowly, his tongue sweeping over mine.

  It’s a knee-buckling kiss. I have to grip his arms, so I don’t fall over.

  “So, am I allowed to take you for dinner before I take you back to my place to fuck you?” he murmurs against my lips. “Show that pretty hair off that I got into trouble for paying for.”

  My eyes flutter. “I could eat,” I say, still feeling breathless from his kiss. “But I’m paying for dinner.”

  He tips his head back. “You are not paying for my dinner.” He looks appalled at the idea.

  I let out a sigh. “Okay, Caveman, how about we go dutch?”

  “How about I pay for it all, and you can just like it?”

  “How about I don’t? You wanna pull my hair while you fuck me from behind? Then, I’m buying dinner.”

  He laughs low and deep. “Fine. I won’t pull your hair. I’ll just fuck you the old-fashioned way and still buy you dinner.”

  “Ugh,” I grumble. “You’re impossible.”

  “I’m not impossible.” He chuckles. “I just know what I want. Okay, how about this? I’ll buy you dinner, and you can pay me back in sexual favors when we get back to my place.”

  “Um, you want me to hooker myself out for dinner?” I glare at him.

  A salacious look crosses his face, his lips tipping up into a grin. “I have always wanted to fuck a hooker.”

  “You ass!” I slap his chest with my hand.

  Chuckling, he wraps his arms around me and presses his nose to mine, staring into my eyes. “I’m not an ass. I’m hot. And you want me bad.”

  “That’s debatable since you just called me a hooker.”

  “I didn’t call you a hooker.” He frowns.

  “You asked m
e to pay for my dinner by giving you sexual favors.”

  “Ah, now, you’re just twisting my words all up. I said I’d always wanted to fuck a hooker—”

  “Not making me feel better.”

  “And I didn’t call you a hooker. Babe…” He brushes his nose down the side of mine, kissing my cheek and then the corner of my mouth. “How about you let me buy you dinner, and I’ll go down on you in thanks? How does that sound?”

  “You want to thank me with oral sex for you buying dinner? How does that make sense?”

  “It makes sense because I get to pay for dinner and not have you mad at me.” A sexy smile slowly creeps onto his lips.

  “You have a really weird idea about what constitutes winning, Hunter.”

  “And that’s why I’m so successful in business, Boston.”

  “Because you have no clue what winning means?”

  “No. Because people would rather be fucked by me than fucked over by me.”

  Laughing, I shake my head. “You are a strange man, Liam Hunter.”

  “And aren’t you just glad you met me?”

  I stare up into his face. “Oddly, yeah, I am.”

  He kisses me one last time and then releases me.

  I follow him over to his waiting car. He opens the door, and I climb into the backseat. Liam gets in next to me.

  “Hey,” I say to Paul.

  “Hi, Taylor.” Paul smiles at me through the rearview mirror. “Your hair looks great.”

  “Thank you.” I smile at him.

  “Take us to Cam’s,” Liam tells Paul.

  I rest my head on Liam’s shoulder, a feeling of contentment around me, as Paul pulls out into the London traffic.

  “So…Megan…she’s nice,” I say, chewing on my thumbnail.

  We’re still in the car. London traffic is heavy, like all the time. I’m staring out the window, looking at the cars next to us.

  I feel Liam look at me, but I keep my eyes on the window.

  “She is. Why do I feel like there’s something more to that statement than just Megan being nice?”

  “Well…she’s very pretty.”

  “She is pretty.”

  I stop chewing my nail and slide my eyes to him. “And…Jamie was telling me that you helped her buy the salon.”

  His brows draw together. “Jamie has a big mouth.”

  “So…did you? Buy it for her, I mean? Because that’s a massively kind thing to do for someone—buying them a business.”

  “I’m a massive guy—in all respects.” He flicks a smile in the direction of his crotch.

  I’m too frustrated to even laugh, so I just sigh and stare out the window again.

  I don’t know why it bothers me so much that he bought the salon for Megan. I guess…I just think he must really care about her to have done that for her.

  Since I lost my family I haven’t had anyone to care about me. I know it was my choice, to keep people away, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling envious that Megan had Liam when she needed someone.

  For the last four years, I’ve had no one.

  So, what I’m feeling right now, this envy, it’s stupid. I know that. But I’m a girl, and I’m dying, so I’m allowed this moment of stupidity.

  Liam takes my chin in his hand and turns my face to him. “I didn’t buy the salon for Megan. I loaned her the money. She paid me back once the business started making money.”

  “Oh, okay.” I turn my face back to the window.

  He sighs. “Is there something else?”

  I lift a shoulder.

  “Taylor.” His tone is firm.

  I turn back to him. “Well, I’m just wondering…if you’ve slept together. I just kind of got the impression that you had. And if you have in fact had sex with Megan, then taking me there, to a place owned by a woman you used to fuck—or still fuck—well…it was just really poor taste.”

  His mouth tightens. “You’re right. It would have been in poor taste. I might have a lot of faults, Boston, but poor judgment is not one of them. I haven’t had sex with Megan. Nor do I ever intend on having sex with Megan.”

  “But you bought her a business. Nothing says I want to fuck you like that.” What is wrong with me? Why am I so jealous?

  And I think I might have pushed it a little too far as he looks really pissed off. Sounds it, too.

  “No. I loaned her the money. She’s my best friend’s little sister. She’s my friend. I help my friends.”

  “Like you’re helping me with my list?” I give him a look.

  I’m clearly itching for a fight with him. But, why?

  Liam slowly shakes his head at me, his dark eyes pinned on mine. “I think we both know that you and I are more than friends. I think my thumb up your arse while I was fucking your pussy with my cock earlier on should have confirmed that fact to you.”

  “God, you’re so fucking crass.” I flick a look at Paul, hoping he didn’t hear what Liam said. It’s just wishful thinking on my part because there is no way he didn’t hear.

  “I’m not crass. I’m just a man who knows what he wants. And when I want something, I take it. I don’t pussyfoot around. Just like when I took your arse earlier. Next time, it will be my cock in there.” He leans in close, so his breath is brushing over my lips. “And I will fuck you hard…so hard that my name will be imprinted on your voice box from you screaming it.”

  Holy fuck.

  I close my eyes. I can’t help the shudder that runs through my body or the whimper that leaves my mouth from the sensations that his words and nearness send rushing through me.

  Liam’s dirty mouth seems to be my kryptonite.

  “I want you, Boston,” he whispers, sliding his hand around my waist, turning my body into his. “Only you. Your pussy and arse are the only ones I’m interested in fucking. So, are we done with the jealousy?”

  My eyes snap open to meet his. “I’m not jealous.”

  “You are so jealous. It’s cute but not necessary.” He taps my nose with his finger.

  “Fuck off!” I bat his hand away.

  He laughs. The bastard fucking laughs.

  I turn away. Childish probably, but I don’t care. He’s pissed me off.

  “Aw, babe”—he curls a hand around the back of my neck, bringing my face back to his—“you have nothing to be angry about. You are the only one I want to fuck for the foreseeable future.”

  “For the next two weeks,” I correct him. “And I wasn’t jealous. I was…well…”

  “You were what?”

  He’s staring at me, and now, I have to given him an answer.

  For once, I decide to go with the truth.

  “Well, I don’t share. I don’t like to be with a guy if he’s with other women or even if he’s interested in being with other women. I know we’re not in a relationship, but I just think, if we’re sleeping together for the next two weeks, then we should sleep with only each other. And if you don’t agree with that, then we shouldn’t sleep with each other anymore.”

  “I agree.”

  “Oh.” That takes the wind out of my sails. “You do?”

  “Yeah. I’ve never been good at sharing either, and I definitely don’t want to share you.”

  “Well then…we’re agreed. For these next two weeks, we sleep with only each other.”

  “Agreed.” His hand slides up my thigh, gripping the top, and then he presses his lips to mine, kissing me hard.

  “Wow,” I say breathless when he releases me. “You always close all your deals that way?”

  “Only with hot list-making Bostonians.” He gives a boyish grin. “Talking of lists, we’re here.”

  “What? Where?” I turn to look out the window as the car comes to a stop.

  “Cam’s—my friend’s bar. We’re eating here, and then you’re going to cross another thing off your list.”

  “I am?” I turn back to him, my brow raised in question.

  “Yeah—sing in public. Cam has a resident band. Tonight is
open mic night, so it’s the perfect opportunity for you to cross it off your list.”

  “Oh…I don’t know. I was thinking that I’d maybe do one thing a day. And the hair constitutes as one thing.”

  Liam laughs. “Stop being a chicken.”

  “I’m not being a chicken. I was the one who put it on my list, wasn’t I?”

  “So then, what’s the point in waiting? Do it now.”

  He’s right. What’s the point in stalling? It’s not like I have the luxury of time.

  “Okay, let’s do it.”

  He smiles wide. “This is going to be epic.”

  “It’s going to be terrible. I’m a really awful singer.”

  “And that’s why it’s going to be epic.” He flashes a grin at me.

  We get out of the car with Liam telling Paul to take off and that he’ll call when he needs to be picked up.

  Then, holding my hand, Liam leads me into Cam’s Bar.

  There’s music playing when we enter. Sounds to be a cover of a Kings of Leon song.

  “That’s the band you’ll be singing with, The March. Lee over there is the lead singer and guitarist.” He nods at a dark-haired guy who’s currently singing into the microphone. “You can either sing with him or go solo. Your choice.”

  “I’ll be solo when I start singing because my voice will clear this place out.”

  Liam snickers. “Come on, let’s go see Cam and get you fed.”

  The bar is really nice. Modern and trendy with a warm feeling to it. And I’m relieved to see that it’s not too busy either. Less people to humiliate myself in front of.

  “Cam,” Liam calls to a guy further down the bar.

  Smiling, he walks toward us. He’s Megan’s brother. I can tell immediately. He’s as good-looking as she is beautiful. He has the same black hair and contrasting blue eyes as she does.

  “Hey, man.” He reaches over the bar to Liam, and they do that handshake-and-half-hug thing that men do.

  I see Cam’s eyes go to me. I smile at him.

  “Cam, this is Taylor Shaw from Boston.”

  “Hello, Taylor Shaw, from Boston.” He reaches over the bar to shake my hand. “Can I get you guys a drink?”

  “Beer for me,” Liam says.

  “I’ll have the same,” I tell Cam.

  I take a seat on a barstool, and Liam takes the seat beside me.

 

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