Page 35 of Wicked Lies Grow Wildflowers

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

MAEREN

Xander trails his fingers up and down my thigh as we lay in bed.

He spent the night whispering sweet nothings in my ear, and we woke to the morning light peeking through my curtains.

I roll over to face him, our chests pressing together as I drape a leg over his hip, playfully pressing kisses to his collarbone.

He continues to caress me as we lounge in comfortable silence.

As I unravel myself from him and crawl across the bed to get up, he grabs my foot and pulls me back to him.

I let out a giggle and playfully swat at him.

“You can’t leave yet. I don’t want you dressed, and you can’t deny me my birthday wish.”

My face drains of all blood. “ Birthday?! ” I squeak.

“That would be today.” He looks smug.

“Wait, you never once mentioned that your birthday was coming up, and it’s today? And you're the big three-zero, that’s a momentous occasion! ” Oh God . Who doesn’t know the birthday of their boyfriend-not-boyfriend who they are routinely sleeping with?!

“That’s because I’m not big on birthdays. It’s just another day for me, but I wanted an excuse to guilt trip you into another round, you know, since you didn’t know to get me a gift or anything,” he winks.

Tossing a pillow at his head I sound utterly exasperated. “Xander. I am big on birthdays. I freaking love birthdays. We have to do something to celebrate or I’m the worst—” I end abruptly, catching myself.

Xander’s eyes flare, catching my stumble. “You’re what? Maeren?” His head tilts as he assesses me.

I’m trying not to combust into tears with my nerves right now. It shouldn’t be this hard to broach this topic and finally have the conversation but it is. Because a label makes this real. Official. I look away but Xander captures my chin and turns my gaze to his.

“What are you Maeren?” he questions again, eyes boring into me. “What are you, to me ?”

My eyes dart back and forth between his and I steel myself for potential rejection, which is absurd, I know. “Are we… together? Officially?”

His eyes dip to my lips. “I thought that was quite obvious by now.”

“So… I’m your girlfriend.” I swallow, never having said that out loud to anyone before. Never having carried that role because I’ve never allowed myself to.

Xander makes a satisfied sound at my answer.

“More than that. You’re mine, yes; my girlfriend, of course, but you’re also my everything.

You’re my forever. There will never be a way out for you.

It’s me and you together as long as we walk this earth.

Even when our bones have turned to dust I’ll still find my way back to you. ”

All I can manage to vocalize is a small whimper, feeling like my soul has been ripped open to make room for Xander, and then stitched back up with him inside.

Fused with me. Forever. He threads his hands through the hair at the nape of my neck and rolls over me, claiming my mouth in a kiss, and prying my lips apart with his tongue.

My body is sore from last night, but he makes love to me passionately and intentionally, and with so much dedication. It makes my throat tight, and I can’t help but cry, overcome with so much emotion, feeling so fucking wanted.

“Let’s go to dinner,” I say, fully sated.

“Whatever makes you happy, Wildflower. If you want to celebrate, we will celebrate.”

“Yes, get up, get dressed. Oh shoot, you don’t have any clean clothes here,” I realize.

“It’s fine, we can run by my place,” he offers.

“Okay, cool. Let me just shower and get ready. Give me like thirty and we can head out?” I try not to show my surprise and excitement at finally getting to see where Xander lives.

“You’re delusional if you think you're going to be showering without me.”

He follows me to my bathroom and spends his time diligently washing my hair, combing out the tangles, and kissing all over my body as he scrubs me clean.

His personality is so polarizing. He’s able to be so tender and soft while also feeling so intimidating and serious.

But I have a feeling I’m the only person who ever sees this soft side, and that’s incredibly pleasing.

I dress in jeans, boots, and a long sweater, not sure where we’ll end up. I blow out my hair and apply a little makeup while Xander waits for me on the couch. When I walk out to the living room he looks up from his phone and flashes me a smile. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I grin. “Now let's go celebrate you, boyfriend .” The new titles are making me so giddy. I love it.

The drive through town feels like it takes forever, but in reality we make it to Xander’s in thirty minutes.

He lives in a gated condominium complex; it’s definitely not anything I could afford.

He pulls into a parking space and runs around the car to open the door and escort me inside.

His place is a two-bedroom, small like my own apartment but incredibly nice.

My eyes rove over his space, and it clearly screams a man lives here.

It’s all fundamental: no decor, no personality, just bare bones.

But hey, he has an actual sofa and table, so that’s saying something.

“My room’s this way. I’ll just be a minute,” he says as he walks down the hall.

I take his absence as an opportunity to snoop and open the second bedroom, seeing an office space with a bunch of tech that I can’t identify and a large desk with a sleek laptop and three monitors. Makes sense that he needs so many screens with building websites all day long.

I close the door and cross to his room, noting the dark bedding and clean surfaces while admiring his muscular back as he pulls a fresh black sweater on.

He runs a hand through his hair and turns to face me. “Ready. Let’s go.” He closes the door shut behind him and then locks up on the way out.

“Do you have anything specific in mind for dinner? I don’t know what you’re in the mood for.”

“Italian? It’s my favorite. We can go to the same place I took you the first time we went to dinner, if you’d like,” he suggests.

“Yeah, that sounds perfect.”

Xander puts the car in drive and I decide to talk about his place in an effort to get more information out of him, my curiosity still strong. We never talk about him as much as we talk about me.

“Your place is super nice.”

“Thanks, I’ve been there for a few years now. It serves its purpose.”

“How come you’ve never brought me over before?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t take offense to another inquiry.

“No real reason. There’s just not much here, it feels really impersonal, and I like your place,” he offers.

Okay, I’ll accept that answer at face value.

Especially since it’s reminiscent of the first time I asked about his home.

He seems honest, and I didn’t see any indication that there’s anyone else in his life.

In fact, there weren’t any pictures of anybody, not a thing seemed out of place.

He must be very meticulous with his personal space.

“Okay. I was hoping you weren’t living a double life or like hiding another woman from me.” I’m joking, of course— mostly.

His shoulders roll back. “Of course not. I work from home so it’s nice to get out when I see you. I need a break from the same six hundred square feet I see every damn day.”

When we get to the restaurant, I think back to our first visit here and am very happy at how far we’ve come since then, how comfortable we’ve gotten with each other. These last two months have passed so quickly.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to date an older man,” I tell him.

“Oh yeah? Good thing you’re still in your twenties and I’m officially nearing middle aged.”

“Well luckily for you I’m a firm believer that men just get better with age, and thirty means you still have five more years until you’re in your prime.”

“Oh really? I’m not in my prime yet?” he laughs, and it sounds so genuine.

“I meannnn, you’re pretty hot already, but I think there’s more to come.”

“I guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.” He lifts his drink to his lips to hide his smirk. What he doesn’t know is that I would stick around for five years, and then I’d stick around for another fifty. Things between us feel so easy and I won’t let this go, I want this forever.

“You know the night we met was actually my birthday.”

“Oh really? I didn’t realize,” his tone comes off sarcastic.

“How’d you know?” I ask, confused. I don’t think I mentioned it was that night.

“You mentioned your birthday was September seventh in the same conversation when you told me your favorite color was teal. And I can’t ever forget the date of when I first met you,” he reasons.

September seventh . I smile down at my plate with the knowledge that he pays such good attention to detail, though by now I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s thorough, and that shows me how much he truly cares.

The rest of dinner passes uneventfully as we flirt and eat, and by the time we leave I’m a little tipsy on my wine. Xander is practically holding me up as he guides me through the parking lot. I can’t stop laughing at everything, and I certainly can’t keep my hands to myself.

As Xander drives us back to my apartment, I’m practically in his lap, sucking on his neck and palming his erection through his pants.

An idea strikes me and I fumble with his zipper, freeing him from his jeans.

I pump his hard cock with my hands a few times before I lower myself down across the center console and take him in my mouth.

“Fuck Maeren. Holy fuck,” he groans out, lifting his hips to meet my eager mouth. I moan around him, enjoying the taboo act, feeling risqué, never having done this before. I suck him off and he palms my head, guiding my pace, while the other hand remains on the steering wheel.

I feel the car slowing, and he abruptly parks, gravel flying at the quick stop. I lift off of him to see what’s going on but keep my hand pumping him. “What are you doing?” I’m a little confused on why we had to stop.

“Finishing what you started,” is all the answer I get as he reclines his seat as far as it will go and pulls me over his lap so I’m straddling him.

He unzips my jeans and pulls them down to my knees along with my underwear.

We fumble for a minute until I’m positioned over him.

I line him up to my entrance and take him inside of me, throwing my head back as I sink all the way down.

Rolling my hips, I focus on the friction as our pelvises meet and the pulsing of my clit.

Xander thrusts his hips up to meet my movements and peels my sweater up along with my bra, freeing my pebbled nipples and taking one into his mouth.

I jut my chest out and arch to the feel of his tongue as he trades off between them.

The feeling of him inside of me and the sensation of him sucking my breasts, combined with knowing we are pulled off on the side of the road where anyone could drive by and see us, becomes too much to bear. I can feel my orgasm cresting.

“Fuck baby, that’s it. Ride me just like that,” he growls against my skin.

I cry out as stars explode behind my eyes and lean down to bite the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

“Fuck,” is all Xander utters as I quake around him, feeling his own orgasm filling me with his cum. Oh fuck. Shit. We didn’t use a condom. We’ve always used condoms. And while I’m on birth control, we’ve never discussed not using one.

I stay seated on him for a minute, catching my breath, before slowly lifting off of him and wiggling my pants back up before plopping down into my seat again.

“Um, we didn’t use a condom. Don’t worry, I’m safe, we just didn’t talk about that before.

And I got lost in the heat of the moment and didn’t even think to—” He cuts me off.

“It’s fine, Maeren. I trust you, and I’m clean. Though now that I’ve had you raw, I don’t think I want to go back,” he rasps out, helping me resituate myself before he fixes himself.

“Yeah, okay. I think I’m good with that,” I agree breathlessly. There’s something about not having a single layer between us that’s purely erotic.