Taken by Lies (Truth or Lies 1)

When I was finished, I cleaned myself off and went in search of Langston to chew him out. He’s the reason I lost control. Seeing him with her brought me to my weakest point.

Instead of finding Langston, I found her.

Kai was standing in the darkness at the door to my office. The door was cracked, and her body was stiff as she stared inside.

I heard the familiar sound of panting and heaving as two bodies fucked. It’s a regular sound in a place like this—expected even.

But I could understand what it might trigger in a woman like Kai, one who only associates sex with suffering.

And I know exactly who is behind the door she’s listening to. Zeke.

Fucking bastard.

I really need to get him a bigger office with a couch or bed. That way he’ll stop bringing women into my room.

“I never took you for a voyeur,” I say.

Kai exhales, as if she’d been holding the world inside as she watched. Like hearing my voice shook her to her core.

I narrow my eyes, as I study her features in the dark. Luckily, I can see so well in the night because I see the glistening on her cheek—wetness from crying. But it’s like all her tears were sucked back up when she heard my voice.

My voice saved her.

I stare back at my friend and his hookup for tonight.

She’s not upset because she is watching a man fuck a woman. She’s not imagining that it’s her or he’s fucking her against her will.

She’s upset because she thinks the man was me.

“I was looking for you,” she says, finding her voice. It’s gruff and laced with desire.

“I see that.”

We are both quiet, listening to the muffled sounds of sex.

“Jealous?”

“Of what?” she asks.

“The woman,” I nod in the direction. “Do you miss getting fucked daily?”

She slaps me.

And I deserve it. My words were harsh and cruel. But I need her to hate me, to be afraid of me, and keep her distance. Because I’m losing my battle at keeping her away from me, and cruelty is the only thing she will respond to. I’ve been too kind these last few weeks; I’ve begun to let her into my world. And it has to stop.

Her touch continues to sends sparks. It was a brief interaction of our skin, but I’m dizzy with the aftershocks, the tingling her flesh offers. It was the first time she touched me willingly. And I almost want to make a snide comment again just to feel her hand against my face, no matter how sharp the sting on my face.

“Rape isn’t fucking,” she says.

When I gaze at her again, my eyes are heavy with tension.

“I was only pointing out you must have needs. Wants. Desires. You need to heal. And at this club, you can find whatever man you want to fulfill you. You’re not ready yet, but if you want to heal, you need to find that man.”

“I’m not going to find a man to fuck in your sex club.”

“This isn’t a sex club.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, it is.”