Cheater (Curious Liaisons 1)

Lucas’s eyes darted to one corner of my mouth. He leaned forward and wiped it with his fingers. “You always were a messy eater.”

“I embrace food the way most people embrace life—with extreme purpose and vigor.”

His sexy mouth twitched, and then he was full on smiling. “I like that.”

“Well, I like food.” I shrugged.

His hands moved down my arms, then back up, then down. The tension was so thick it was hard to breathe.

“Fuck it.” He slammed his mouth against mine and lifted me by the ass off the chair and placed me on the counter. I bit back a hiss as my skin came into contact with cold granite.

Lucas ripped open the shirt.

A button flew past my ear and made a pinging noise as it landed.

It was five seconds.

Before I felt him inside me again.

Before he was yelling my name—before I was maiming his back with my fingernails and begging for more.

When I almost slid off the counter because I was trying to get a better angle, he lifted me in the air and walked us over to the couch, then bent me over it, only to apologize for being so rough.

I was too busy kissing him to care.

Too busy tasting him and hating myself for letting it happen again.

When I’d promised myself it would only be once.

When I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t be one of those girls.

It was over too quick.

Sweat dripped from his head onto my chest; both of us out of breath, we stared at one another—the gap of silence was deafening.

I waited for it.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “For the scratches.”

“Believe me when I say”—his voice was hoarse—“I didn’t feel a damn thing.”

“Oh?” I teased.

“You know what I mean.” His tone turned serious, and then he paled and pulled away from me. “Avery, we need to talk about this—”

“Nope.” I shook my head way too many times. “No talking, remember? We agreed not to talk about it.”

“But—”

“You know what? I think I should go. It’s late and”—I yawned—“you have a big day tomorrow because it’s Thursday . . .”

“Avery—”

“And Thursday’s—”

“I have a feeling my Thursday isn’t going to work out anymore.” He crossed his arms.

“Sad for you.” My fake laugh needed work. “But anyways, I’m just going to—”

Lucas swept me up into his arms and carried me to the bedroom. I banged his back the entire way with my fists.

“Put me down!”

“There.” He tossed me onto the bed and crossed his arms. “You’re staying the night.”

“Lucas.” Why was he being so nice! I needed the jackass more than air right now. “It’s fine; just treat me like you treat them.”

His nostrils flared as he joined me on the bed, flipped me over onto my stomach, and slapped my ass. Hard. “If you ever compare yourself to another girl again, I’m going to leave a mark.”

“Thorn!” I yelled. “I’m not a child!”

He laughed. “Oh, I know.”

“Hell, if you weren’t such an arrogant ass, I’d maybe actually admit that you were superhot right now, all dominant and such.”

“Well, my life purpose has been met—you called me hot.”

“You know you’re hot, that’s the problem.”

“Or the solution? It’s all in how you see things, Avery Bug.”

I rolled my eyes and willed the smile away from my face. The last thing that man needed was encouragement. “If I stay, I need to shower.”

He rolled off the bed and held out his hand. “Follow me.”

Chapter Thirty-One

LUCAS

“Hey.” Avery sniffled—her eyes were watery, her smile nonexistent. “Mom just wanted to know if you needed anything before the rehearsal dinner tonight.”

“Avery Bug.” I opened the screen door and leaned against it. “What happened?”

“I hate men. Except you, Grandpa, and my dad. Well, I guess I like your dad too, and my dog is amazing—at least he doesn’t run around humping random girl dogs like that bastard son of a . . .” She burst into tears. “I’m sorry. Ugh, it’s the day before your wedding and—” She wiped her eyes and forced a smile. “See? Totally fine. So do you need anything? I can go to Starbucks for you. Run some errands. Do you have your tux?”

I frowned. “Avery?”

She blinked up at me.

“Did your mom really send you?”

“I believe her words were ‘Leave the house before you upset your sister again,’” Avery said in a wobbly voice.

I snorted. Unbelievable. I loved her mom—hell, I loved their entire family. But Kayla had a tendency to make everything about her, especially lately, and with the wedding so close she’d turned into a bitch. Especially to Avery.

Damn it. I was literally five minutes away from calling the entire marriage off. But people were already here for the wedding, and what was I supposed to do? Tell Kayla that it just didn’t feel right? That I didn’t feel the same way I used to?

That I felt more connected to Avery than to her?

That whenever Avery smiled at me, it made my day?

That when Kayla told me she didn’t have time for me, a giant weight lifted from my shoulders and my first instinct was to call Avery?

Yeah, I was sure all that would go over like a car wreck.

With a sigh, I opened the screen door and Avery came barreling into my arms, all snot and tears.

My heart sank when she started crying harder. “It’s not even that I was in love with him—but he cheated on me with Desiree! Austin saw them making out last night at Taco Bell.”

I smirked. Oh, to be in high school again. “Avery, do you really want a guy that makes out with some girl at Taco Bell, of all places?”

She pulled back and grinned up at me. “You know how I feel about food, Thorn. But Taco Bell?” She scrunched up her nose. “Where’s the decorum? The class? As in ‘No, you may not kiss my mouth while you eat that taco!’”

“That’s a girl.” I burst out laughing and pulled her in for a hug again. “I promise that one of these days you’re going to find someone that sees your true worth, and he’s not going to cheat on you.” My entire body tensed. Because it would never be me.

“Swear?”

“Swear.” I kissed the top of her head, itching to bring my lips lower. Her beautiful green eyes blinked up at me. She was so trusting, so unaware of the battle that raged within me.

Wanting to do the right thing.

When the wrong thing looked so damn good.

Time stood still in that moment.

Again.

Because I was touching her, and my body wanted more.

She clung to my shirt.

Just seventeen. She wouldn’t be eighteen for a few more days.

“Let’s hang out for a bit,” I encouraged—well aware that I was adding kindling to the already growing flame. And when she skipped ahead of me into my parents’ house, I saw her as more than a passing flirtation.

I saw her as my future.

The day before I was supposed to say “I do”—

to her sister.

“Thorn!” Avery slapped me across the cheek. “Swear to the steak gods that if you snore one more time, I’m suffocating you with your boxers!”

My vision was blurry from sleep—and my breathing out of control from the dream I’d had. “Huh?”

“You. Dead. Steak gods. Boxers,” Avery grumbled, tucking her body next to mine. “And for the record, I’m only cuddling because you’re a coldblooded psychopath who clearly doesn’t believe in heat!”

I glanced at the clock. “Why? Why are you yelling at me at three in the morning? Is this what living with you is like? Waking up with screaming? About hell? Threatening talk about killer food?”

“Huh? Killer food?”

“Death,” I said in a gravelly voice. “Steak?”

“Go to sleep, Thorn.”

“I was asleep,” I grumbled. “Until a little hellion woke me up.”

She yawned. “Stop complaining. Now go back to being my human blanket.”

I fell asleep with Avery in my arms.

And a smile on my face.

It was a first because—though Avery didn’t know it—I never slept with girls.

I had sex with them.

I never slept with them.

I never held them and allowed myself to imagine anything past the twenty-four hours we spent together.

It was a first since Kayla.

But with Kayla it hadn’t felt this way.

Not at all.

I was . . . happy.

My alarm went off too early. I begged for time to go in reverse.

I rubbed my face and wiped the grit from my eyes, then glanced at a sleeping Avery. Her mouth was open, and she had one leg spread across my legs, the other touching the other side of the bed. Apparently, she slept like she ate—with abandon.

“Avery Bug,” I whispered, “time to get up.”

“Sleep.” She shook her head.

“I wish,” I confessed. “But we have to work.”

At the mention of work, she bolted out of bed and nearly fell backward against my window. She righted herself with the curtains, only to have them break and fall against the floor while she still clung to the fabric.

“Oops,” she whispered groggily. “Sorry, I don’t wake up well.”

“Obviously.” I pointed at my poor abused curtains.

She dropped the fabric, stepped over the rod, and nodded repeatedly at me. “Well, I guess it’s Thursday.”