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Underneath It All (Sexual Misconduct Volume II)

Page 4

by Bethany Bazile


  Within minutes, I came again. I whimpered and sagged against the wall from the extent of my release. As I gasped for air, he stuck his finger in my mouth and said, “Suck it.”

  I eyed him angrily but did as he commanded anyway, the combination of his cum and mine deliciously assaulting my tongue. “No more condoms,” he said as he pulled out his fingers and fixed his shorts. He buried his fingers into my hair and pulled me close until his lips were at my ear. “From now on, I want you to taste like me every day.”

  He walked away, leaving me mentally scrambled yet absolutely positive that he just etched his name in me and I’d never be able to remove it.

  Safe Haven

  Avery

  “I shitted on my life.” Ian sighed.

  He wasn’t as put together as the last time he came to my office. I got the slightest feeling that he’d made an effort to look presentable last week. His hair was disheveled, eyes bloodshot, and a couple days’ worth of growth covered his face.

  “I know Xander probably painted me out as the villain—”

  “Don’t worry about what Xander talks to me about in his sessions. They have no bearing here. For the next hour, Xander doesn’t exist other than when you mention him,” I stated matter-of-factly.

  “Before I say anything else, I want you to know that I loved her. I wouldn’t have hurt my brother that way if I didn’t love her.” He scratched his growing beard and slumped in his chair.

  Jessica must have been some kind of fantastic. Years later, she was still heavily affecting these men emotionally.

  “Did you come here for help or to redeem yourself?” I wasn’t interested in being the next woman in between their pissing contest.

  “Both.” I could deal with that answer. As long as I knew he wanted help, then I’d be there to assist him.

  “I came here because after that night, I spiraled down into hell, and Xander’s life escalated. I still don’t understand why he’s seeing a psychiatrist when he’s always so aloof about everything.” He hung his head, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck.

  “Ian?”

  “Hmm?” he glanced up at me.

  “Can we talk about you and how you lost control of your life?” He knew I was trying to steer him away from all the Xander remarks, so he went back to why we were really here.

  “After Jessica died, I blamed myself. I couldn’t move past it. I tried, but shit like that follows you day and night. That night Xander walked in on us, she was supposed to come to my place, but she canceled. We’d argued earlier in the day about her leaving Xander. I should’ve left her alone. I should’ve never gone over there to talk to her.”

  “Have you ever talked to anyone about Jessica? What happened, how she died?”

  He shook his head. “My parents were all about Xander. They were so disappointed in me, they barely spoke to me for weeks.”

  “How’d that make you feel?” Yeah, I used that line.

  “The way it always made me feel. Despite being older than Xander, I’d never live up to him.”

  “Was that what you were trying to do? Live up to Xander?” I jotted down a few lines on my notepad as I observed him.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just always felt like Xander was everything they wanted. It was like they had me, but I was missing something so they had Xander and everything clicked for them. I went to law school and followed in my dad’s footsteps, but it was always about Xander’s scholarships, Xander’s next audition, how Xander’s wife wasn’t good enough for him.”

  “I’m going to ask you a question, and I need you to answer it in all honesty and know your answer will always stay between us.” I prepped him.

  He nodded.

  “Were you with Jessica to get back at Xander? Because you knew how much she meant to him?”

  He looked away.

  “Ian,” I prompted. I didn’t want him to get inside his head and talk himself out of the truth.

  “Ian…”

  He looked back at me with glassy eyes. “Yes, at first it was, but then it became so much more.”

  I shook my head, understanding. “When did things change?”

  “Xander had been bringing her around since she was eighteen. I was twenty-one and I was old enough to know when a woman was throwing hints my way.” He ran a hand through his overgrown blond hair.

  “So she was the aggressor.”

  “She tried to tempt me with her body, but I was more interested in her heart.”

  “Her heart?” I looked up at him over my glasses, a little surprised by that answer.

  “I wanted to take someone Xander loved and make them love me more. It was stupid, but to me, it proved I was as good as he was.”

  I was beginning to see how deep his hostility ran. “When did it change?”

  “Right before she married Xander.”

  “Were you two already sleeping together?” I was pretty sure I already knew the answer, but I needed him to confirm.

  He nodded. “Almost from the first time we’d met.”

  “So once she decided she was going to marry Xander, what happened?”

  “She didn’t decide she was going to marry Xander. One week I’d fucked her and she told me she was falling for me, and the next, Xander had dragged her off to Vegas and they eloped.”

  “How did that make you feel?” I scribbled more on my notepad, glancing up at him to gauge his current feelings.

  “That’s when I realized how much she’d gotten to me.”

  “And it had nothing to do with Xander having won?” I narrowed my eyes.

  “No.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. It felt real. I was tired of sharing her with him. I loved her, and he rushed her off and married her as if he knew about us.”

  “How long did you… have you harbored this jealousy of your brother?” I cleared my throat, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose.

  “As long as I can remember. I was loved for three years, and one day my parents came home with this baby, and I was abandoned. I mean, they included me in everything, but I always felt like they doted after Xander like he was some kind of prince.” He fell silent.

  I was speechless. I don’t even think Ian realized his love for his brother’s wife was based on a lifetime of jealousy. Getting him to really see things objectively and learn to accept who he was without comparison to Xander would be tough.

  I called an end to the session and scheduled him for the following week. I was always sure to keep Xander and Ian’s appointments days apart. Last thing I needed was for them to run into each other in the one place I was trying to make their refuge.

  *~*~*

  “How’d your session with Ian go?” Xander asked.

  “Good.”

  “Good. That’s it?”

  “Yup.” Xander followed me through the kitchen as I pulled down dishes and took the takeout Chinese food I’d picked up out of the bag.

  “What did he tell you?” He was obviously fishing.

  I furrowed my brow and shook my head. “We can’t talk about that.”

  I piled the food on two plates and threw away the cartons.

  “Why not?” He tried to sound nonchalant, but his eyes gave away his desperation to know what transpired in our session.

  “That would be the equivalent of me telling him what we talk about during our session.” I knew he’d never want that.

  “Not the same,” he said as he sat next to me and watched me eat rather than joining me.

  “Why isn’t it?” I glanced at him.

  “Because he’s not fucking you.” He stared at me with a straight face.

  He can’t be fucking serious.

  “Seriously,” he said as though he’d read my mind. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

  “In that office, there are no sides, Xander, and I’m not breaking doctor-patient confidentiality because you think your dick has godlike powers that should make me defile my ethics.”

  “I already defiled your
ethics. Months ago, when I fucked you on your desk.” He pulled a lopsided grin.

  I grimaced at him and decided to go back to eating. If I let Xander egg me on, we’d be arguing, then fucking, then arguing again.

  “How am I supposed to know he’s not turning you against me?”

  I dropped my fork and glared at him. “You have to trust me and know I’m smart enough not to get manipulated by Ian.”

  “She was smart too.” He looked at me with worried eyes, then got up and left the kitchen. I watched him as he sat in front of the TV but never even glanced at it. He sat on the couch with his head back, staring up at the ceiling.

  I wanted to be angry at him for not trusting me, but I knew where he was coming from. He’d lost someone to his brother already, and his desperate need to cling to me and keep me away from Ian was just self-preservation.

  I wrapped up his food, washed my dish, and headed into the living room. I straddled him. He lifted his head, moving his hands to my waist.

  “Hey, you,” I whispered.

  “Hey,” he replied in a similar soft tone.

  “I know this is hard for you. I’m not trying to make it harder by helping Ian.” I stroked down his face with my finger.

  “Then why are you doing it?” His eyes and his tone pleaded with me for some kind of explanation.

  “Because I want to help you.”

  “By helping him.” He looked unconvinced.

  “Did you ever stop and think that everything that’s wrong with you started with him?” He turned his head and appeared to consider it. I reached out and turned his face back to mine. “If the two of you don’t find a way to heal from all this hurt, you’ll never find your peace.”

  He leaned in and kissed me, then pulled back. “I never wanted to be this guy again. This guy who’s so totally consumed with a woman that everything seems to be closing in on me when that’s threatened.”

  I ran my hand through his hair and he leaned into it. “I’m working on saving you both. But I need you to know that no matter what, if you need me to… I’ll be your safe haven.”

  Come Away With Me

  Xander

  I woke in Avery’s bed. The day before, she’d had her second session with Ian, and I handled it a lot better this time. I knew I had to trust her, and I did. I just didn’t trust Ian for shit. I didn’t want him turning her against me.

  She loomed over me with a sweet smile on her face. She’d held on to her serious façade for quite a while, but once she released it, she smiled and laughed all the time.

  “How’d you sleep?” She asked the same thing every morning, and the answer was always the same.

  “Good.” This was a half-truth. Since I’d begun to spend every night with Avery, I fell asleep so content that I slept great until the dreams would start. They didn’t come as often, but when they did, I made sure to not wake Avery with the restlessness I felt afterward. She tended to rough it out with me, and though I appreciated it, I didn’t want her watching over me.

  Therapy was helping in a sense. I didn’t feel like all those memories were bottled up inside me, and the dreams lessened, but it wasn’t a cure-all. I never expected it to be. I was just thankful for the nights I did sleep and even more grateful I got to wake next to Avery every morning.

  She leaned in, her naked skin caressing mine, her pebbled nipples brushing against my chest. My morning wood began to ache with the need to be inside her. Her lips brushed against mine, and she bit me on my jawline, her wet pussy rubbing against my cock.

  I fucking love morning sex.

  “I’m late,” she said before hopping off me abruptly.

  What? I tried to catch hold of her waist, but she’d been expecting that. She dodged my attempt to pull her back with a giggle.

  “Fuck no. You can’t just make me hard, then walk away.” I’d been so close to being inside her, my cock was weeping pre-cum from the anticipation.

  “You were already hard.” She smiled wickedly at me before running into the bathroom. I threw an arm over my eyes, trying to convince my cock to calm down. After all, I’d come three times last night. We could wait, right? I looked down at my cock and it twitched. Yeah, not happy with waiting at all.

  Avery came out and sat in front of her vanity, fixing her hair in the mirror. Watching her from the bed in the morning when she got ready for work had become one of my favorite pastimes. It was foolish to be so captivated by the simple act of rolling on stockings and snapping garters, but it got me hard every single time. I was beginning to think she was purposely putting on a show for me, because it seemed to get more provocative with each passing day. She had no idea just how much power she held over me.

  I rose from the bed and walked up behind her. She watched me in the mirror, a smile forming as she glided the red tip of the lipstick over her lips. I flicked the long red locks off her shoulder and kissed her there. She shivered.

  “Don’t start, Xander. I have an appointment in less than hour.”

  “I only need ten minutes,” I whispered.

  She shook her head, her eyes dancing with laughter as our gazes met in the mirror. I raised an eyebrow. She laughed and stood. “No, Xander.”

  She dropped a quick kiss on my lips, then went into her closet to finish getting dressed. She came back out a few minutes later, balancing on one red fuck-me now heel as she slid on the other. Her dark-gray skirt clung to her curves and stopped right above her knees, and the matching jacket was slung over her arm.

  “Come with me.” She looked at me, her blue eyes uncertain. I’d been trying to convince her to come to California with me for a week. The film I’d produced before going into rehab was up for an award, and I needed to be there, even if it was only for the weekend.

  “I don’t know, Xander.” She glanced up at me as she fastened the last few buttons of her white blouse.

  She was wary about putting our relationship out for public consumption, and I didn’t blame her. I knew bringing her to California could potentially put her under a microscope for public scrutiny. But regardless, I couldn’t picture leaving her for even three short days. We were in a good place, and I felt as if things were too good and the other shoe would drop soon. The closer I kept her, the better I’d be at deflecting any obstacles that came our way.

  “It’s just one weekend.” She sighed. She’s going to give in soon. “I need you.”

  “Fine, I’ll come, but if things get crazy, I’m hiding out in your condo.”

  I smiled and kissed her before she hurried out of the room, her soft scent lingering long after she pulled from the driveway.

  After she left, I showered and dressed, grabbed my leather jacket, and headed for the door. I stilled as it flung open and Ellie came through. She startled, then eyed me suspiciously.

  “Ellie.” I greeted her cautiously. Last time we’d been here alone, things didn’t go well, but we couldn’t keep avoiding each other or Avery would know something was up.

  “Avery’s car was gone so I thought you guys left.”

  “She left about half an hour ago.”

  She nodded, then proceeded to walk past me.

  “You know you don’t have to sneak in after we’re gone. This is your home.” I admit it made me a bit uncomfortable to come to Avery’s house with everything going on with Ellie, but Avery insisted. It looked suspicious that I was always trying to talk her into staying at my place when her house was closer to her office.

  Ellie turned around and glared at me. “I know this is my home. I can’t help it that I’m not as cold as you are. I feel guilty about all this.”

  “You think I don’t?”

  She raised an eyebrow. Skeptical.

  “Don’t think just because I’ve grown accustomed to guilt that I’m immune. I hate keeping this from her, but what will we have accomplished by telling her? That she should’ve never trusted her heart to me. That she’ll never open up again.”

  She shook her head slowly, scrutinizing me through narrowed ey
es. “I can’t figure out if you’re bullshitting me or if you’re completely different than the man I knew.”

  I looked at her with her oversized T-shirt and long blonde braid down her back and smiled. “Seems like we both were completely different people when we met.”

  She nodded, turned, and then continued on to her room.

  Celebrity Status

  Avery

  When I received my trust fund at twenty-one, I always thought I’d travel the world and see all the places I dreamed of. My determination stood in my way. Regardless of how big the trust fund my parents left me had been, I’d always wanted success more than riches. The one thing having money helped with was opening my own practice.

  When I think of all the times I dreamed of coming to California, I’d never once imagined I’d make my debut on the arm of a sexy Hollywood star. As Xander and I strolled—no, speed-walked—through LAX, I was amazed by how many people stopped and stared and by how many cameras flashed in my face.

  I knew I looked like a deer caught in headlights in at least half of the pictures taken. I was an amateur. Xander had this thing down to a science. He wore sunglasses, held his head low, and kept a straight path to his destination. By the time we got to the car that was sent to pick us up, I’d bumped into enough people while trying to keep up that I felt like I’d just been through a maze or a circus. And Xander was the main attraction.

  “You okay?” Xander asked, sweeping my hair behind my ear once we got settled in the waiting car.

  “I think so.”

  He smiled. “You’ll get used to it.”

  Will I? Were we at a place where we were planning a future in L.A.? Because I couldn’t picture myself moving away from Seattle.

  “In L.A., the world spins at a faster pace. You blink your eyes, and you’ve been to an award show, two parties, done a shitload of interviews, and then you spend most of the next day in bed.”

  “Being in Washington must be driving you crazy.”

 

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