Lie, page 15
Fuck, that was hot. “You’re absolutely clear.”
When she had nothing more to say, she turned quiet, still tense after that long conversation.
“We don’t fuck other people. That’s my one stipulation.” My tone was firm.
“You don’t seem like the jealous type.”
“Because I’m not. You’re the jealous one.”
Her anger started to rise. “I am not.”
I grinned at the memory of our conversation in the doorway. “You said my dick is yours. If that’s not jealousy, I don’t know what it is. And don’t apologize for it because it’s fucking hot.”
Her anger evaporated.
“I just don’t want to wear a condom.” I didn’t want to go through her drawer where other men had dug their hands in the past. I didn’t want to take the time to roll the piece of latex over my dick before I could finally get inside her. I didn’t want some rubber shit separating our bodies, numbing the amazing sensations between us. I wanted to come inside her over and over, night after night.
“Then I expect you to get checked out.”
“Fine with me.”
She turned her gaze back to me, studying my expression. “And what about me?”
“I assumed you would get tested or have already been tested.” I knew she slept around based on what I’d witnessed at the bar, but I also knew she was smart and would protect herself at all times.
“That’s not what I mean…” She turned away and looked at her sink, as if this new topic made her more uncomfortable than all the rest.
“Then what do you mean, baby?” I called her baby because she was mine. For however long this lasted, she belonged to me; she was my woman. I wanted to savor every aspect of ownership, to enjoy all the passion we could find.
She couldn’t look at me as she spoke. “You never asked if I was raped…”
The thought had crossed my mind, but I didn’t want to know. The bruises on her face were enough to make me hurl into my toilet when I got home. I did my best to disassociate from that reality, not to let my nightmares go that far. “It’s none of my business. And even if you were, doesn’t change how I feel about you…which I’ve already proven.” My attraction to her was still enormous, regardless of where she’d been before me. Maybe other men would be uncomfortable by the fact, but not me. I wanted her as she came, scars, bruises, and all.
She turned back to me, and this time, she gave me a look I’d never seen before. She was somewhat incredulous at what I’d said, but she also seemed deeply moved by it, like her opinion of me just rose. She stopped fidgeting with her hands and looked at me like she’d never really seen me before. “I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”
She still hadn’t told me whether she had or hadn’t been hurt, but it made no difference because I wanted her so much. When this conversation was over, I wanted to pick her up and carry her to bed so I could enjoy her. “Scars are not signs of weakness, but strength. Traumas are not signs of failure, but success. A dark past doesn’t mean you lived less, but you lived more. Anyone who judges you for what you’ve been through is just an asshole who hasn’t survived anything themselves. They are the weak ones. And you are the strong one.” I couldn’t picture her ending up with an average man, living an average life. She needed someone who lived in a different world, had a different perspective on life. Someone who didn’t blink an eye over the most gruesome things. “I’m not like other men, baby.”
Her eyes softened as she looked at me, her affection growing right in front of my eyes. “Yeah…I see that.”
Ten
Catalina
My ankles were locked around his waist, and he pressed me into the mattress. My hands were deep in the back of his hair as I let him rock me into the sheets. I breathed into his face and moaned, my heels digging into his ass as he continued to give it to me so good. “Heath…” I didn’t say much in bed, and despite my experience with my long list of lovers, I’d never said a man’s name during sex. But this man was special, the first one who deserved to hear me say it over and over. He sent me to the stars every time we were together, pleased me every single time like it wasn’t luck, just pure skill. I brought him closer and bit into his shoulder, moaning through my climax even though I had no reason to be quiet. My teeth sank into his flesh harder than I meant to because I was moaning uncontrollably. God, it was so good. Everything with this man was so good.
He came a minute later, waiting until my teeth released from his skin before he filled the condom inside me. He always shoved his whole dick inside me when he released, making me hiss through my teeth when he came into contact with my cervix, but I never asked him to stop because I knew how much he enjoyed it, how much he liked hurting me with his big dick.
I released a quiet moan as he finished, his thick body still making me sink into the sheets. He breathed against my neck as he drifted down from the clouds. Then he gave me a single hot kiss before he pulled out of me and walked into the bathroom.
I watched him walk away, watched that tight ass contract and relax as he moved. He had sexy legs and an even sexier back. His tattoos were from the waist up, and I’d never really had a chance to examine each one because I preferred to take in the whole picture instead.
That man was mine. All mine. And I didn’t have to share.
I didn’t have to worry about our relationship going somewhere I didn’t want it to because I’d laid the groundwork right away. That allowed me to be with him completely, to drop my guard and treasure every moment.
He returned after he cleaned off, just as sexy from the front as he was from the back. He got into bed beside me, leaving the sheets at his waist.
I rolled onto my side and looked at him, my fingertips sliding lightly up and down his arms. I leaned in close and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, tasting sweat from his exertion, the work he did to make me come.
He wrapped his bear-sized arm around my waist and pulled me close, tugging me against his large frame so we could be close together. I rested my palm against his chest, right over his strong heartbeat. After our serious conversation at the dinner table, we hadn’t said much else. In between our sessions of sex, we usually stayed quiet and just enjoyed each other’s company.
“What’s for dinner?” His strong arm was still around my waist, his fingertips gliding up and down as he touched me. His deep voice was so sexy, so manly. Unfortunately, his perfection ruined all other men for me. How could I move on to somebody else after having this?
“Why are you asking me?”
“Because I’ve been fucking you for an hour, and I need sustenance—if you want me to keep going, at least.”
“I’m not much of a cook.”
“What would you eat if I weren’t here?”
I propped myself up on one elbow so I could look down into his face. With my body turned his way, his hand went farther over my back to my shoulder, bringing me closer with a lustful look in his eye, as if he liked my body from this angle. “I don’t know. A sandwich? Maybe nothing at all.” I was used to men staring at me, wanting me, but no one had ever stared at me the way he did, like he was constantly attracted to me, constantly hypnotized by the way my lips moved when I spoke. This man was pumped with so much testosterone, he always wanted to fuck, even when he’d just finished.
“You would skip dinner?”
“Sometimes.”
His hand moved to my ass, and he squeezed my cheeks. “Baby, you need to eat. I love your body, and you need to take care of it.”
I noticed he called me baby all the time now, anytime he addressed me. A man had never called me that before because I’d never been in a relationship—not that this was a relationship, but it was a first for me. It felt right, and I couldn’t imagine him calling me anything else. “I have to keep my weight down for ballet. I told you that.”
“I don’t think eating dinner is going to sabotage your chances. Imagine how much more energy you would have if you ate properly.”
I rolled my eyes. “You aren’t my boyfriend, so don’t tell me what to do.”
His hand stilled on my back, and that aroused expression turned into something sinister. “No, I’m not your boyfriend because that’s pussy shit. I’m your man. And I will say whatever the fuck I want to say.” He amplified his statement by smacking me on the ass. “You need to eat.” He got out of bed and pulled on his boxers.
“What are you doing?”
“Making dinner.” He left my bedroom and walked into the kitchen.
I lay there for a while and listened to him move around pots and pans and open cabinets to see what he could throw together. I sighed to myself before I got out of bed and picked up a shirt from the floor. I pulled it over my head and removed my hair from underneath the neckline. I didn’t bother putting on a clean pair of underwear because I suspected he would fuck me before we even had dinner.
I went to the kitchen and joined him. “What’s on the menu?”
“Chicken Francese and spaghetti.” He placed the pot of water on the stove and turned on the heat so it would boil.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and placed my lips against his shoulder blades. “That sounds good. I have all the ingredients for that?”
“Yes. And you have lots of white wine.” He moved to the fridge to grab all the ingredients and started to cook in the pan.
I placed myself on the counter with my knees pulled to my chest as I watched him cook.
Sometimes his eyes would wander and look right between my legs.
“Do you mind?” I squeezed my thighs together.
“Not at all.” He gave a grin like a smartass and dropped the spaghetti noodles into the water. He moved to me and bent down so he could shove his face between my legs and kissed me. Kissed me hard.
I hadn’t expected it, so I grabbed the back of his head and arched my back as I released a loud moan. “Whoa…”
He pulled away and kept cooking like nothing had happened. He flipped the chicken, added more wine for the sauce, and then boiled the pasta in the separate pot.
I eyed the bottle on the counter. “Are you going to use the rest of that wine?”
He smiled and handed it to me.
I grabbed it and drank straight from the bottle. “You can whip this up without a recipe?”
“A recipe is like instructions, and a man doesn’t need instructions.”
He definitely didn’t need instructions on how to kiss me, that was for sure.
He stepped back and leaned against the kitchen island as he waited for everything to cook. With his arms across his chest, he looked at me, from my face to my pussy. “That shirt looks good on you.”
“Feels good too.” I raised the bottle and took a drink.
He looked at the food to make sure everything was working properly before he turned back to me, his blue eyes watching me like there was nothing more entertaining than seeing me drink from a bottle of wine.
“When are you going to invite me over to your place?”
“I’m surprised you’d want me to.”
“Why? I hope there’s more than just that basement.”
He smiled lightly. “A lot more.”
“Then, yeah, I want to see it.”
“Come over whenever you want.”
“Well, be careful. I might show up on your doorstep every night.”
He dropped his smile and checked on the pots and pans again. “You’re the only woman in my life, so come and go as you please. My bed is your bed as far as I’m concerned.” He turned off all the burners once the food was done and grabbed plates to serve everything.
“You seem comfortable with monogamy. Have you done it before?”
“No. But I don’t need the experience to know how it works.” He placed the food onto the dishes and grabbed silverware before he handed me a plate. He leaned against the kitchen island and started to eat. “Only fuck one woman. Not that hard to understand.”
“But might be hard to implement.” I took a few bites and was impressed that he’d thrown this together so easily. “You’re probably used to getting ass handed to you all the time…” I’d seen the way women looked at him at the bars, all wanting a chance to sink their claws into him. He was a devastatingly beautiful man, so sexy it was easy to come just thinking about him. He could have anyone he wanted.
“I don’t recall that happening with you.” He continued to eat, brushing off my compliment like it didn’t mean anything to him. He could be a conceited asshole at times, but that seemed to be an act, because other times, he actually seemed humble about his hotness.
“Only because you locked me in a cage in your basement. If that had never happened, I would’ve hunted you down until I had you. Would’ve hiked up my dress and fucked you in an alleyway if it came down to it.”
He stopped chewing for a second, affected by what I said. “We can still do that.”
“I won’t be surprised if we do.” I ate everything on my plate because it was so good, a gourmet meal right in my kitchen. I tried to control my appetite and not scarf everything down, but that was impossible. I cooked food in the same pots with the same ingredients, and meals never turned out like this. “Damn, that was good.” I set the plate aside on the counter.
“Good. You ate everything like a grown-ass woman.” He carried his empty plate to the sink and rinsed it off, taking mine next and doing the same. Then he moved to the pots on the stove.
“I’ll do it later. You cook, I’ll clean.”
He released the handle of the pan and turned back to me, the sexiest man to stand in my kitchen. His hair was a little messy because I’d fingered it so many times, and it was obvious that a woman had dug her hands into his hair instead of him being lazy and not taking a shower. He glanced at the time on the microwave then turned back to me. “I should get going.”
The disappointment that rushed through me was potent, painful. It was so sudden because I hadn’t expected it. Last time he was there, he’d slept over, and I’d just assumed that was what he would always do. But I refused to seem clingy or whiny, so I took the high road and brushed it off. “Okay. Thanks for dinner.”
He stared at my face, his head slightly tilted to the side as he regarded me. His piercing blue eyes studied me like a pair of binoculars. “If you want me to stay, just tell me that.”
My eyes narrowed. “You said you should go, so why would I tell you to stay?” I pulled his shirt over my head and handed it to him, leaving myself completely naked in the kitchen.
He took it but didn’t pull it on. “I should go. I have shit to do. But if you want me to stay, I will.”
“I’m good.” I walked back into my bedroom so I could pull on my little shorts and a top before returning to the front door. Most of the time, I just wanted sex and to have the guy leave afterward. But since this was a different situation, I was a bit frustrated he wanted to go—and even more frustrated that I didn’t want him to leave in the first place.
When I turned around, he was in my bedroom, his shirt still in his hand. “Let me tell you how this works.” He tossed the shirt onto the bed. “You can tell me anything. You can ask me for anything. I’m at your service.”
“You fulfilled your services for the night, so you’re dismissed.” I’d never needed anybody, and I wasn’t gonna start now.
He stayed in front of me, his muscular frame rigid.
“Why are you making this into a bigger deal than it needs to be?”
He stepped closer to me. “Because the longer we’re together, the more I can…read you. I can tell there’s something you want, but you refuse to ask for it.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and did my best to seem indifferent.
He was quiet for a while as he waited for me to come clean on my own, and when I didn’t, he stepped closer and placed his hands on my hips, his face close to mine. “Talk to me, baby.” He rested his forehead against mine, his powerful hands snaking across my back, protecting me like bars in a cage.
Whenever he was affectionate and authoritative, I wanted to submit. I was usually defiant to the ends of the earth, but I found myself wanting to be the opposite with him. “I just have a hard time sleeping sometimes…”
He stared at me with the same expression, as if he knew exactly what I meant by that, without further explanation. “No one is going to walk through that door except you. You don’t need an alarm system—you don’t even need a door. No one will touch you. I promise.”
“How can you make a promise like that?”
“Because I’m the Skull King. I can make any promises that I want.” His hand went to my neck, and his fingers lightly traced the area around my lips. “Would you feel safer if I got you a gun?”
“I don’t know how to use a gun.”
“I can show you. Would that help?”
Even if I’d had a gun when those guys broke in to my apartment, it wouldn’t have helped me. But now I had an alarm system and a tank for a door, so I would have time to react if something like that happened. “Yes.”
“Then I’ll get you one.”
My nightmares were the things that haunted me the most, that forced me to wake up in the middle of the night gasping for air, seeing shadows that looked like adversaries. Having him beside me felt much safer than having a gun in my nightstand, but I refused to ask him for anything. He wasn’t my boyfriend, just the man I was sleeping with.
“Anything else?”
I shook my head.
He leaned down and kissed me before he pulled away and got dressed.
I had to fight the urge to ask him to stay, to sleep in this apartment with me so no one would come after me. But I managed to hide those feelings away so he wouldn’t be able to see them.
After he was dressed, he walked to the front door and said goodbye. “I’ll see you later.”
“Alright.” I rose on my toes and kissed him goodbye.
