Underneath It All (Sexual Misconduct Volume II) Page 3

  Underneath It All

  Avery

  I’m the man who killed his wife. The words rolled around in my head. Wife? Killed?

  As a professional, I should’ve known which questions to ask and what things to say, but as a woman with her heart on the line, I was completely frozen with shock.

  “I worded that wrong. It was a car accident.”

  I took a breath of relief.

  Jesus. It would’ve been nice of him to have said that part first so I didn’t have to imagine ten different murder scenes in under a minute.

  “I met her my first year of college. We hit it off instantly. Within a month, we were inseparable and I quickly fell. Hard. It’s what scares me the most with what’s happening between us.”

  Did he just imply he’s falling in love with me? Because that was an area we hadn’t touched yet, and we clearly had much more pressing matters to worry about.

  “By our junior year, we were living together. Senior year, we got married.”

  There were so many things I wanted to ask about this whirlwind romance, but now that the floodgates were open, I was swimming in a sea of Xander’s past, and I wasn’t ready to get out of the water. Any input from me might cause him to shut me out again.

  “She was a small town country girl with a wild spark that lit up once she got to college. She kept her family from me until we were married because her mom was an addict and her dad disappeared when she was ten. When I brought her home to meet my parents, they were nice to her, but there was always this suspicion in their gaze. They weren’t happy with my decision to marry her. I never came home without her since my freshman year, and she was always nice to them. I couldn’t figure out what it was that made my parents so put off by her.” He shifted nervously in his seat.

  “My father confided in me that he thought she was using me. I thought he was out of his mind and being overly protective. I mean, I was an aspiring actor living off his parents. Granted, I was living a pretty lush lifestyle with the trust fund my grandparents left me. I brushed off his warning because I loved her.”

  He fell eerily silent. Somber even. His expression partially shuttered, but his unease was apparent in the way he twisted the ring on his right index finger with a sullen look on his face.

  “We came home for a couple weeks in November. I spent probably about two months a year here, split into two-week intervals, back then. Near the end of our second week, I’d usually spend a night out with some of my high school buddies. This time I wasn’t feeling it. After an hour at the bar, I decide to go home and spend some time with Jessica. But when I got home, I realized she already had plans. Plans to fuck my brother.”

  I furrowed my brows and tried not to react. But what? Xander’s expression hardened and his jaw clenched, but he continued on.

  “After that, the whole night turned into a series of crazed flashes of insanity. Ian and I fought. I left him unconscious, returned to the bar. I remember drinking. A lot. Then popping a pill one of my friends gave me. By the time I got home, between the drinking and that pill, I was maniacal. Ian was gone. Jessica and I argued. She told me she was tired of being with me. I was too clingy with her, and I was holding on to some false dream of becoming an actor. She basically let me know I was shit, and my brother was the success of the family.”

  He smiled ruefully. “She’d be shocked to see how the tables have turned.” He sighed, then laid his head against the back of the chair.

  “You don’t have to continue. We can talk again another day.” I wasn’t so far gone from my professional training to not see that he was having a hard time talking about this. He kept shifting nervously in his seat and he barely made any eye contact.

  “No, I need to do this today.” He straightened and seemingly shook off his anxiety. “I told her we were leaving, that once we were back in California, she’d realize Ian had tricked her and she should be with me.” He huffed and shook his head. “I don’t know if it was the high talking or if I was really that deluded. I carried her to the car despite her fighting me. She tried opening the door to get out, but I kept hitting the lock button on the keychain to keep her in. Once I sped off, she got angry. Like I’m fed up and I’m going to confess everything kind of angry.”

  “You know sometimes people say things they don’t mean when they’re angry, Xander.” I spoke in a soothing voice, my therapy voice.

  “Oh, she meant it. She told me she and my brother snuck around behind my back for three years. Whenever he came to town and stayed with me or we came home, they were together. She needed a man with ambition. Ian was older with a law degree and on his way to following in our dad’s footsteps at the time.”

  He grew quiet, a bit dazed as he stared out the window. I closed the distance between us, sitting on the coffee table in front of him and pulling his hands into mine. He looked at me as I touched him and seemed to snap out of the flashback he’d been silently having.

  “I remember my hands were trembling, sweating like it was the middle of the summer when it was the dead of winter. It was raining and I was speeding as though there were some kind of happily ever after at the end of the road.” He shook his head and turned toward the window again, squeezing his eyes shut.

  “What happened, Xander?” I clutched his hands.

  “She told me she’d married the wrong brother. That she was leaving.” When he turned back to me, his usually tanned complexion was ashen. He looked me in the eyes, but his gaze was so distant.

  “I lost my shit, Avery. I kept telling her that I loved her, that I’d change. I was so fucking pathetic—so weak. It’s what scares me the most about this thing between you and me. I don’t want to be that man again.”

  I lifted a hand and touched his face. He leaned into my touch before pulling away and sitting back in his seat.

  “I remember hitting the gas despite my shaking hands and spinning head. She was screaming at me to slow down—to let her out—but I ignored her. I was determined to get out of Washington and preserve what was left in our relationship. If I hadn’t been high, I would’ve realized there was nothing left. I was chasing hope down an endlessly dark highway.

  “I must’ve been going over a hundred miles an hour. She screamed, Slow down, Xander. You’re going to get us killed.’” He shook his head, his lips pressed together in a tight grimace. He leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees and his head hung low.

  “Do you know what I told her?” he asked in a low tone, without glancing up at me.

  “What did you say, Xander?” I twisted my hands together anxiously.

  He took a deep breath and lifted his head to meet my gaze, his eyes full of remorse and guilt. “I looked her in the eye and said, ‘Before you leave me for Ian, I’d rather we both die.’”

  Oh my God… My heart clenched at what I knew was coming. “You didn’t mean it.” I shook my head vigorously.

  “How do you know what I meant? Every single time I flashback to that moment and remember everything that came before it, I know I meant it.”

  “What did you do?” My tone was ominous.

  “Nothing. I watched her face turn from angry to downright terrified. She screamed at me to watch out, but by the time I looked back to the road, it was too late. I’d swerved into oncoming traffic. One moment I was looking into Jessica’s face; the next, the car crumpled and flipped over.”

  “Jesus.”

  His demeanor deteriorated. His shoulders slumped, head hung, and breathing escalated.

  “You okay?” I asked after several silent minutes. I reached out to touch his arm, and he flinched, then pulled away.

  “I passed out.” He continued. “When I came to, there were flames shooting out the dashboard and by the pedals. Jessica hadn’t woken up, so I tried to wake her, but she didn’t respond. I clawed at the door, shoved it, but it wouldn’t budge. I tried to get her seatbelt off, but it was stuck. I remember chanting I’m sorry, I’m sorry, over and over. She finally managed to open her eyes, and I kne
w we’d be fine. As long as she was alive, I’d get her out.”

  He sighed and shook his head.

  “It’s amazing how quickly you sober up after something tragic happens.” He snorted. “Someone yanked open my door and was trying to pull me out. I begged them to take her first, but they said they had to get me out first. The car had flipped and landed on the passenger side. Her only way out was through the driver’s door.” He ran a hand through his hair and looked at me with red-rimmed eyes brimming with unshed tears.

  “They never got her out,” I stated because I just knew.

  “I barely got out. The car exploded, throwing me and the man who tried to help me a few feet back.”

  Oh my God. The burns on his legs… I’d never questioned him about the scars on his calves, but I somehow knew it had been related to the nightmares.

  “So when I say I killed my wife, I mean it, literally. I killed my wife, Avery. I can’t consider it an accident.”

  Brotherly ‘Love’

  Avery

  Xander and I ended our session there. He’d opened up tremendously, and I didn’t want to push him any further. I went to his place, and we agreed to avoid talking about it again until our next session the following week.

  In the three days since Xander’s confession, I still didn’t know how to feel about it all. It was as though I were completely focused on helping him move on, and I didn’t allow myself to consider how severe a mistake he’d made.

  “Dr. Shaw?”

  “Yes, Angela.” I filed away a folder and picked another up off my desk.

  “There’s an Ian Pierce here to see you.” My hand stilled as I was placing the folder into my briefcase.

  “Should I send him in?”

  I was already running late after my last patient and Xander would be calling me nonstop in a few minutes if I didn’t pick up.

  “Uhh… yeah, send him in.” I shut the case and watched as Angela ushered Ian into the room. He looked nervous. I felt anxious. After hearing everything that went down between the brothers, I didn’t know what to expect.

  “Dr. Shaw.” He closed the distance between us, standing on the other side of my desk.

  “What are you doing here?” I was actually waiting with bated breath to see where this was going.

  “I hoped we could talk about Xander.” He met my apprehensive gaze.

  “What is there to talk about?” I tried not to give away my nervousness.

  “I don’t know how much you know—”

  “Everything.” If his purpose was to out his brother, then he was too late.

  “In his words. His side.” He placed his palm on my desk and leaned in.

  “There are no one else’s words to rely on.”

  “There could be.” He raised an eyebrow. “I could tell you my side, because I’m sure he made me look like I was a dick who stole his wife.”

  “I think you did that yourself.”

  He flinched.

  Simmer down on the animosity, Avery.

  He nodded, wearing a smile that didn’t touch his green eyes. “He’s got you all turned around. You’re all Team Xander with no clue how much of a dirty player he really is.”

  “What do you want from me?” Already, I grew tired of his games.

  “Someone to talk to. Someone who can listen to both sides of the story and help us both deal.” He straightened and crossed his arms again.

  “This is a conflict of interest in so many ways.” I shook my head.

  “You appear to be a woman who breaks rules for the greater good.”

  And what would that greater good be here? Fixing their relationship. Helping them move past this tragedy. I had to admit, in my head, this seemed like a great plan.

  “And this is not part of some revenge tactic?” I didn’t think so. He genuinely appeared to be a man who’d lost his way and wanted help finding it. Maybe there was still hope for them.

  “No.”

  I eyed him warily. “Make an appointment with Angela, but no bullshit. This will be a real session. You want to fix yourself or your relationship with your brother, that’s what I do.”

  He nodded. “Thanks.” He turned and left, making me exactly fifteen minutes behind schedule to get to Xander’s house.

  *~*~*

  “What took you so long?” Xander asked soon as I walked through his front door. I’d already been running late, then Ian came by, and then I got stuck in traffic.

  “I had a surprise visit as I was getting ready to leave.” Better if I break it to him now than he find out later.

  “Really? Kind of like the first time I came there.” He joked, but he was actually spot on.

  “Almost exactly like that. Except it was Ian.” He stilled, then took a step back and stared at me, bewildered.

  “Ian came to see you?” he asked slowly.

  “Yup.” I walked through the living room and put my briefcase and jacket on the dining room table. I turned to find him leaning against the doorframe, a furious look on his face.

  “How long was he there?” He narrowed his eyes.

  “Fifteen minutes.”

  “Fifteen minutes! Why the fuck didn’t you kick him out?” He closed in on me, backing me up to the wall with his piercing gaze.

  “He wanted to talk. He looked like he needed my help.”

  He let out a mirthless laugh and caged me in with his arms on either side of me. “The first time I came to your office, I had to make an appointment and wait to talk to you. But the minute Ian walks in, you blow me off because he needs to talk?”

  “Maybe I was a little curious to hear what he had to say.” I placed a palm against his chest because he was crowding me and his anger was palpable.

  “Stay the fuck away from him, Avery.” His fingers ran down my face, piercing green eyes locked and loaded—ready for battle. He was seconds away from unleashing all that rage.

  “I can hear the accusation in your tone, and there’s nothing there, Xander. Nothing.” I met his angry gaze and tried to reassure him with a gentle caress.

  “Next time he shows up, call security. Or call me.”

  “I can’t.” I sighed.

  “Why?” His eyes widened.

  “He has an appointment next week.” I was going to stand my ground on this no matter how angry he was going to get.

  “Fuck no! Cancel,” he demanded.

  “I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” He moved in closer, his face a mere inch away from mine.

  “Won’t.” I held my ground.

  He held my face in his hands, his eye searching mine. “You’re not going to do this shit to me. You told me if I opened up to you, you’d help me, not him.”

  “Why can’t I help you both? He’s your brother.”

  “Because you can’t.” He leaned in and kissed me, roughly. His tongue plundered my mouth in viciously angry strokes. His hands moved to my ass, fingers digging into my flesh as he lifted me and aligned me with his erection. I tried pushing him off so I could reassure him Ian wouldn’t come between us, but he growled.

  “Don’t push me away. I need to be inside you.” He continued kissing me. His fingers slid up my thigh until they met the wet crotch of my panties. He teased my clit through the silky material, causing me to shudder.

  Unexpectedly, he tore off my panties with a sharp tug. I gasped into his mouth, but he was too obsessed with getting inside me to even notice. He pulled down his shorts, lifted me by my waist, and impaled me with his thick cock.

  Slowly, he rocked into me, his cock stretching and filling me perfectly. His head was buried in my neck and he seemed to have calmed from his rage.

  I thought he’d calmed, but really, he was still simmering, mumbling incoherent words against my skin. Minutes later, he lifted his head and said, “Show me your tits.”

  I quickly tore my shirt open and unfastened the front clasp to my bra. His thrusts were steady as he leaned in and sucked a nipple into his mouth. My back arched and hi
s cock slid in deeper, hitting my G-spot and making me jolt. My pussy clenched as he reared back and slammed into me. He released my nipple. One hand on my hip, the other at my neck as he held me captive.

  “Say my name.”

  I stared at him, moaning raggedly with each powerful thrust of his cock. His fingers tightened on my neck.

  “Say my fucking name,” he demanded.

  “Xander,” I groaned. He went feral, taking me hard and fast with a fierce look on his face and his hand wrapped around my neck.

  Fuck! Why does it turn me on so much when he turns into a possessive lunatic?

  My pussy was so wet, his cock exquisitely invasive, prodding me, demanding my orgasm. Every few minutes, he would loosen his hold on my neck, then tighten it again when I’d start to move. It was clear he was laying down his claim, and I was to stay put and receive it.

  “You’re mine,” he growled, his cock drumming that fact into me. His pelvis brushed against my pulsating clit. “Come, Avery.”

  He jerked, the plump head of his cock torturing my spot. “Come right the fuck now.”

  And I did. I fucking soared from the overload of beautiful sensations. His cock pulsed inside my clenching pussy. He hissed.

  “Fuck… Avery, fuck yeah…” His head dropped on my chest and he bit my nipple as he came. The sharp pain and pleasure from the bite sent me into another orgasm. This one not as strong, but enough to cause my body to go lax from the overload.

  In that moment, I felt the warm gush of his cum inside me and realized he’d forgotten the condom. Or maybe he’d purposely left his imprint in me—in the most possessive claiming I’d ever experienced.

  “Xander?” I pushed against his shoulder.

  “Hmm?” he mumbled against my collarbone.

  “You didn’t use a condom.”

  He picked up his head and looked at me in confusion, lifted me off his cock, and let my legs slide down. He glanced down, smirked, and then pushed me back against the wall, claiming my lips in an aggressive kiss. His fingers grazed my clit. Then he was finger fucking me as aggressively as he was kissing me.