Lies That Sinners Tell (The Klutch Duet 1)

I might not be that heiress, but by the grace of the fashion gods, I was the same size as one.

“I’m almost insulted,” Wren scowled, inspecting me. “This dress was made for me, but somehow it looks better on you.”

“Nonsense,” I replied.

Though I looked good.

Really good.

We’d spent the entire day trying on gowns that some of the most talented designers in the world had created. It was heaven. Well, it should’ve been heaven for someone like me.

Instead, it was hell.

My stomach was swirling with nerves, with anger, with uncertainty.

Which was why it had taken the entire day to choose which gown to wear. Because, of course, it couldn’t just be any gown. This gown had to make an impression. It had to make me feel confident. Desirable. Had to give Jay the impression that I could take whatever he threw at me.

Which was why we’d settled on black.

Like his soul.

Normally, with my skin tone, a solid black dress looked too harsh on me. But this one didn’t. Strapless. Velvet. A bustier top that dipped wickedly low in the front and curved up at the sides so it dipped low at my chest, giving me the illusion of more of an hourglass figure than I actually had. It cinched in my waist and molded over my hips before falling to fan out ever so slightly down past my ankles to a small train at the back.

I wore diamond teardrop earrings—though I was sickened at how much they must’ve been worth and had tried to refuse them, but there was no arguing with Wren—and kept my neck completely bare.

We’d already decided that I was going to curl my hair and then put it up in to an effortless looking updo. Wren had also tried to convince me to let her hair stylist and makeup artist work their magic on me. Though I’d been tempted, because I’d definitely be applying makeup with a shaky hand tonight, I refused. It was stupid, but it felt like going to that much effort was letting him win, somehow. I’d already given him my entire day, and I hadn’t even seen him yet.

“Am I making a huge mistake?” I asked Wren as I wrung my hands together, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “By getting in to this arrangement, with this man?”

Wren pursed her lips. “Maybe. I don’t know the man at all, and what I’ve heard second hand is ... intense, I’ll give you that. I can already see what he’s doing to you. Twisting you in knots. I don’t like that.” She paused. “But I also see something else in you. An excitement. A glow. I’ve never seen you like this with a man. And you haven’t even had sex with him yet. So maybe you’re going to make a mistake by getting in to something so tangled. But the mistake of doing this is going to be much more satisfying than living a life wondering what would’ve happened otherwise.”

She was right. For better or for worse, I was in this. I was already in up to my neck, so the only way to survive it was to submerge myself completely and hope I came up for air eventually.

“Plus,” Wren added. “You didn’t sign an NDA, so if he turns out to be a massive asshole or terrible in bed you can sell the story to TMZ.”

I tried to laugh, but it sounded fake and hollow.

I’d already sold my soul to this man. It was too late for anything else.

I was applying a dark, moody maroon to my lips when my phone rang. I knew it was Jay. He hadn’t given me an address or any other information about the dinner we’d be attending tonight. I figured that meant he was going to pick me up outside my apartment like he did on Thursday.

“I’m on my way down,” I greeted, taking one last look in the mirror, at the dark and romantic version of myself that seemed like a completely different person than who I’d been on Thursday.

“I’ll come up,” Jay said.

His voice hit me. Right in the stomach. Honestly, his baritone affected the area below my lower stomach. As much as I’d wanted to disobey him and use my vibrator the second I got home on Thursday, I’d relented. I’d barely slept. And when I did, I woke up in a hot sweat, my body uncomfortable and yearning for release.

Instead of doing what it was my right to do—give myself pleasure—I’d gotten up and went to an early morning Soul Cycle class with Zoe. She’d been surprised, to say the least, since I only ever went to Soul Cycle with her when I wanted to punish myself for something. It was an hour of absolute torture, again making me wonder why any human being subjected themselves to it.