Lie (Betrothed 8)

Since there was nothing else, I filled a glass and carried it into the living room. I turned the TV on low and looked through my phone, addressing questions from my guys.

Steel texted me. Coming in tonight?

I always had shit to do, but I could tell Catalina preferred it when I stayed here. I had a feeling it had nothing to do with sex, just the fact that I had the muscle and power to make shit happen. I was far better protection than a fucking alarm system. No.

Did you handle Damien?

I didn’t want to think about that asshole. He was a problem that wouldn’t go away, but I couldn’t actually do anything about it. Yes.

Did you kill him?

If Catalina weren’t in my life, I would have. I would have snapped his neck right in his office. No. But I told him I will if he steps out of line again.

Good.

“What are you doing?”

I quickly locked the phone so she wouldn’t see my conversation. “Drinking.” I leaned back into the couch and looked up at her, seeing her wearing my shirt better than I did.

“I thought you left…” She dug both of her hands deep into her hair, gliding right against her scalp as she sighed quietly.

“I’d never leave without saying goodbye.”

She dropped her hands and glanced at the wine and the TV. “Why are you awake?”

“I’m a night owl.”

She moved to the spot beside me, her knees pressing against my thigh. Her arm hooked through mine, and her head went to my shoulder.

“Go back to bed, baby.”

“You are my bed.” She kissed my shoulder.

I smiled down at her, loving how attached she got to me. “You were pissed at me just a few hours ago…Look at you now.”

“Who said I’m not still pissed?” She raised her head and looked at me, still sleepy.

“You hide it well.”

“You just keep making me forget—temporarily.”

“Come on, baby.” I squeezed her thigh. “You aren’t mad, and you know it.”

She narrowed her eyes in the cutest way, trying to be mad because she just couldn’t force it.

“I knew it.” I leaned into her and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

Now, she didn’t even try to seem upset. She melted like butter on the stovetop. Her eyes narrowed on my chin when she noticed that I’d shaved. “You cut yourself?”

“Yeah. You need a better razor.”

“You used my razor?” she snapped. “I use that on my legs and—”

“Why do you think I used it?” I gave her a slight grin.

She tried to suppress her smile but couldn’t. Her fingers reached out, and she touched my smooth skin lightly. “You look sexy.”

“Yeah?”

She brushed her thumb along my bottom lip. “Yeah. I like the way the scruff feels against my skin when you kiss me…down there…but you do look really handsome this way.” She dropped her hand.

“That’s your thing, isn’t it?”

Not understanding my question, she just stared.

“When I kiss you there.” She lost her mind whenever I did it, became hooked on my line so firmly. My hand slid between her thighs so my fingers could rub against her panties. I stared at the spot for a few seconds before I looked at her again.

The blush that moved into her cheeks was so subtle, but the rosy tint was enough for me to notice. “So? I’m not ashamed of it.”

“No reason to be.” My fingers slid underneath her t-shirt so I could feel the silky softness of her legs, the legs she’d probably shaved that morning with the same razor I’d just used. “Just saying, I noticed.”

Her eyes turned slightly guarded. “When I watch porn, that’s what I usually watch.” She made the confession without a hint of apology, like she didn’t give a damn what I might say in response.

Both of my eyes widened, and my fingers stilled against her skin. “Let’s talk about that some more.”

She turned away and chuckled.

I grabbed her chin and turned her back toward me. “I’m serious.” I could picture her in bed, the light from the computer screen highlighting her body in the dark, her knees wide open while a vibrator was pressed against her clit.

“I’ve told you everything.”

“But you skipped over the details. So, you like it when a man kisses you there?”

She held my gaze for a while, as if she was considering what she should say next. “I like it when you kiss me there.”

Now, I stopped breathing altogether.

“Guys don’t really do that, especially when it’s a short-term fling.”

“Have you ever asked?” What man wouldn’t want to get between her legs and make her come?

“Yes. They do it, but I can tell they don’t want to. Not very sexy.”

I did it because I’d fantasized about it before I even kissed her.

“I’m guessing that’s one of your things?” she asked. “Something you like to do?”

“Not particularly, no.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Then why do you do it with me?”