Lies That Sinners Tell (The Klutch Duet 1)

But I didn’t think of that when I first woke. I thought of the aches in my body, the bruises on my skin, the smell of Jay ... everywhere. I thought about the fact that I’d never felt so rested in my entire life, and I’d been woken twice for some of the most strenuous and satisfying sex that I’d ever had.

I stretched out in the California King. In Jay’s California King. I was in his bedroom. Between his Egyptian Cotton sheets. The ones that smelled of him. Of me. Of sex.

Light was filtering in through the crack in his blinds. I reached over for my phone to check the time, thankful that I’d put it on airplane mode in order to make sure life didn’t intrude on my first weekend with Jay. That hadn’t been one of his orders. It was something I’d done because I didn’t need the world trying to inch its way in to this. Whatever this was.

I knew there would likely be multiple messages from Wren, Zoe and Yasmin, all with varying degrees of excitement and support. I was supposed to send Yasmin a message today at 12:00 p.m. exactly so she knew I was still alive and here of my own free will.

But that was five hours away.

Who knew what awaited me in these five hours?

Putting my phone back on the nightstand, I noticed switches on the side of it. There were no labels, so I had no idea what the switches did. I probably shouldn’t have been touching them. Growing up, there were all sorts of buttons and switches that adults had cautioned me not to press. My father had taught me to respect my elders, respect authority, to respect him. He’d also taught me to question things, have a mind of my own. Which, in turn, made it really difficult for me to do what I was told. I was always the kid who pressed the button.

The irony of the situation I was in did not escape me. Ever since I could remember, I’d hated being told what to do, yet I’d just entered an arrangement that relied on me doing what I was told for as long as I wanted it to continue.

Which was why I pressed the button.

A soft, mechanical whirring hummed through the room, and the blinds started to move up, revealing the cloudless blue sky and the ocean melding into it.

I got out of bed, looking for something to cover my body. Sleeping naked was not something that I did. Ever. Especially not the first night I slept with a man. And especially not when I was sleeping alone. It felt too vulnerable. Also, I spent a lot of money on fancy silk sleepwear, and I loved waking up feeling like I was some kind of queen.

Jay’s discarded clothes were nowhere to be seen, along with the man himself. I tried to picture him getting out of the bed in the dark, collecting his clothes and taking them to a laundry hamper somewhere. But for the life of me, I could not picture it. I also did not know how I’d managed to sleep through him getting out of bed and picking up his clothes. Normally, I was a light sleeper.

Not finding anything to put on my body, I looked at the open door to my left, which led to a bathroom. One I sorely needed to use. One I definitely should’ve used last night because ... UTI, hello. Pee after sex. Always.

But last night I was not thinking of such things.

The bathroom was tiled entirely with large charcoal granite, with two sinks side by side and a walk-in shower large enough to fit four people. Beside it was a cavernous hot tub—black too. I used the facilities, opening drawers until I found a men’s face wash and did my best to wash last night’s makeup from my face. Another cardinal sin. Makeup was always taken off before bed. It was good I hadn’t woke up with Jay, I was a mess, mascara smudged under my eyes, patches of foundation clinging to my slightly red skin. I was lucky he had good skincare. Sure, it was musky and smelled distinctly male, but I liked it. Loved smelling of Jay.

My rummaging found a toothbrush and toothpaste, the toothbrush still in its packet. I cleaned my teeth, looking through the expertly organized drawers. Everything inside of them was ... normal. Q-Tips, flossers, extra toilet paper. I didn’t know what I’d expected, nipple clamps and Glocks?

My exploration also resulted in me finding a black robe hanging on the back of the door. The fabric was plush, luxurious, and it smelled of Jay. I tried to imagine the man wearing the long black robe after a shower but failed to conjure the image. The robe itself dwarfed me, but I liked being lost in it.