The Ending I Want(22)

“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 f*ck 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 f*ck 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 f*ck me from behind? Then, I’m buying dinner.”

He laughs low and deep. “Fine. I won’t pull your hair. I’ll just f*ck 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 f*ck 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 me 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 f*ck 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 f*cked by me than f*cked 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.