Betrayed by Truths (Truth or Lies 2)

I moan at his delicate touch.

His fingers stop, my head tilts, and my eyes open to meet his.

“Sorry,” I say, at my unexpected outburst of pleasure.

“Don’t be.”

He starts scrubbing, his fingers digging into my scalp in the most luxurious, pleasurable way.

I try to keep my moaning inside, but every once in a while, a small whimper escapes through my parted lips.

He stops and rinses my hair before applying conditioner, then rinsing again. His touch on my head warms and sparks every nerve in my body. He could ask anything of me, and I would give it to him, if only he kept scrubbing my head.

“I’m finished,” he says almost reluctantly, like he too was enjoying touching my head.

I sit up, and he holds my long strands in his hands before wrapping them in a towel. Then he leads me to a chair he set up in the bathroom in front of the mirror. He removes the towel and watches my wet hair fall.

He picks up scissors lying on the counter.

“Um..” He clears his ruff throat. “How short do you want it?”

I motion to just above my breasts indicating where I want him to cut.

He nods and swallows, his Adam’s apple bobs as he does.

He pulls my hair back gently.

“You trust me?” he asks with a grin.

I nod silently. Because I do trust him—too much.

It gives him too much power over me.

I watch his breath rise and fall in his chest slowly as he takes my strands in his hands and begins to work. I feel my head getting lighter with each snip. I enjoy watching the focused look of his brow as he works. His concentration stays on my hair and not me—giving me a chance to study him. The scars on his chest. The muscles that seem to grow bigger with each passing day.

My mouth waters thinking of what it would feel like to kiss his abs. Slip my tongue between the hard ripples. Feel his muscular body between my legs. I feel my body heat and not just from Enzo’s warm touch. For a desire to have him.

“Finished. What do you think?”

I flick my hair in front and watch the even strands fall to the length I asked Enzo to cut it.

“I’m impressed. When you lose your empire to me, you should take up hair styling,” I tease.

He smiles. “If it means I get to cut your hair, then I’ll do it.”

I give him a weak smile. How can he be so kind to me?

He’s a monster. He hurt me. This is just an act.

But it’s what makes me fall for him. It’s what tricks my mind and allows my body to take over which is desperate to feel him—to fuck him.

Enzo is attracted to me too, but not enough to act on it. And I will never show weakness by asking for the man who sold me to fuck me. No matter how much I want his body. No matter if it would heal me to feel that of a man who I actually desire inside me. I will not give him the satisfaction of knowing I want him.

And Enzo isn’t attracted enough to me to actually woo me—no man is.

So I’m destined to live out the rest of my years alone.

Enzo steps back. “There is a white dress I picked for you to wear hanging in the closet. Put it on, and then Westcott will take some pictures he can send to the newspapers.”