Lies We Tell

by Jeana E. Mann

  “Owen, please.” My words were barely a whisper, but he heard them. I swallowed and closed my eyes. “Please don’t go.”

  Nineteen

  Stella

  Present Day

  The wind picked up, rattling the shutters and whistling through the trees. Lightning flashed, and thunder boomed in rapid succession. The kitchen light flickered once, twice, then extinguished. Rain pelted against the siding. An uneasiness prickled over my skin. Owen stopped, his hand on the doorknob. More than anything, I wanted him to stay and take away the relentless ache between my legs and in my chest.

  His shoulders lifted and fell with a heavy sigh, like he’d fought a battle and lost. “Fuck, Stella. What are you doing to me?”

  Before I drew my next breath, he turned around and came back to cup my face in his hands and press his lips to mine. I opened my mouth, inviting him in. The touch of his tongue shattered the last shreds of my self-control. Our bodies slammed together. He backed me against the wall, lifting my arms over my head and pinning my wrists together.

  “I need to be inside you,” he growled against my mouth.

  “Stop talking.” I freed my hands from his grip, scrabbled for the hem of his T-shirt, and dragged the wet cotton over his head. The shirt landed on the floor with a sticky slap. His big, rough hands slid up and down my body, electrifying my senses. How many times had I imagined this moment? A dozen? A million? Never, in my wildest dreams, had it felt this good.

  “Ah, Stella.” His voice wounded and soothed me, like broken glass wrapped in velvet. The heat of his breath puffed against the tender flesh of my neck. I never knew a man’s touch could feel so good and so wrong at the same time.

  We blurred into a mass of clutching fingers and searching hands. I pushed his jeans down his hips. “Condom?” I asked.

  “Wallet. Back pocket,” he rasped. I dug through his wallet for the foil packet. My fingers trembled as I slid the condom over his erection.

  This was craziness, but I couldn’t stop myself. Caught under the spell of his male scent and trapped between his body and the wall, I stopped caring about right and wrong. The tragedy of our past faded away in the heat of the present. I climbed up his body, wrapping my legs around his waist. With one giant shove, he slid inside me. His grunt echoed in the silence. I hissed at the instant pleasure.

  “I used to dream about fucking you like this.” He started a bruising rhythm. My head thudded against the wall with each thrust. I clutched his back, dragging my nails across his damp flesh. “Stella. My Stella.”

  “I’m here,” I said. “Your Stella.”

  He was so much bigger than I remembered. His cock dragged in and out of me, burning through my walls. My pussy rebelled at the intrusion and clamped tightly around his length. In the flashes of lightning, I caught sight of his beautiful eyes and the wildness in their depths. I dragged my lips over his neck. His skin tasted of salt and rain. Everything about him was familiar and strange, a heightened version of my memories. I dug my fingers into his shoulders until he shuddered.

  “That’s right.” The raw edge to his voice made my walls spasm in a pre-orgasmic warning. “Just like that. Hold onto me, Stella.” In answer, I scraped my fingers down his back and clung to him.

  The last semblances of control escaped our grasp. We rutted like animals, grunting and gasping, banging from one wall to the next. He tangled a hand in my hair and dragged me to the cabinets before bending me over the countertop. He hammered into me, his thrusts sloppy and uncontrolled. I met the drive of his pelvis with a backward push, forcing him deeper into my core. All of the anguish and anger from the past eighteen years released through our slamming bodies. Every slap of skin was gasoline on a smoldering fire. He owned me inside and out.

  I grabbed his thighs, unashamed of my need, and writhed on his cock. “Please, Owen.”

  “Please, what?” His fingers bit into my bottom as he rode me.

  “Punish me. Please.” I braced a hand on the counter to keep from toppling over.

  A stinging slap on my ass echoed through the kitchen. The burn satisfied my desire for penance. One solitary tear leaked from the corner of my eye and rolled down my cheek. The patter of rain softened to a drizzle. His hand stole around my waist, finding the swollen nub between my thighs. The calloused touch on my sensitive flesh rocketed me into another world. One where lies and betrayal and secrets didn’t matter. One where we’d never been apart and our love continued to grow. Waves of bliss rolled from my center to my toes. I was close to coming. So close.

  In the distance, I heard our moans and sighs. I opened my eyes to see our reflection in the window. Owen drove into me, buttocks flexing, his big body covering my smaller one. With his bare chest resting on my back, I felt his heart thundering. This was us. Me and Owen. Messy. Wild. Angry. Until this moment, I’d been half a person, floundering in the darkness, but here, with him, I became whole again.

  “I never meant to hurt you, Stell.” He doubled his pace. His frantic thrusts brought me to the brink of orgasm. I hovered on the edge, my body shuddering, totally lost in his lips and touch. When his fingers wrapped around my throat, the tears began for real, sliding over my cheeks and dripping off the point of my chin. “I gave up everything for you, and I’d do it again. That’s how much you mean to me.”

  “Owen.” I gasped his name as the world crashed down around me. His thighs quaked, his movements becoming uncoordinated and rough. Electricity licked up my legs. My sex spasmed around him, carrying him to orgasm with me. We clung together. The night air filled with the sounds of thunder, rain on the roof, and our harsh breathing. A thrill ran through me, carried on a wave of danger. I was playing with fire. At any moment, one of us might combust, and I didn’t care. I wanted him to consume me, to burn me down to ashes.

  Once our breathing slowed to a reasonable rate, he spun me around and rested his forehead against mine. A large hand skimmed along my rib cage. His palm stopped at my breast. The warm weight of his fingers caged my flesh, claiming me. My nipple hardened against the gentleness of his touch. We stayed like that for a few minutes, our hearts beating in synchronized rhythm.

  “What happened that night—to Chris?” Until we faced the truth, we’d both be slaves to our secrets. “We’ve got to talk about it, Owen. I can’t rest until I figure this out.”

  “Not now. Not tonight.” Slowly, he released me until I was standing on my own. We stared at each other. I couldn’t get enough of him. I drank in every detail of his face, memorizing him just in case he disappeared from my life again. He brushed a tender kiss across my mouth. “Seeing you every day, it’s killing me. I can’t keep pretending like you never meant anything to me,” he said.

  “And I can’t let you walk away,” I replied.

  Twenty

  Owen

  Present Day

  Upstairs in Stella’s bed, I hammered into her like there was no tomorrow. I took and took and took until both of us were too exhausted to move. Every whimper, every spasm of her body, every plea restored the power she’d stolen from me. I made her come over and over again. She asked for punishment, and I gave it to her. Brutally. Ruthlessly. Until her fingernails tore at my back, scoring my flesh and fueling my lust. When she cried out my name, I made her come again. I wanted to use her up until there was nothing left but her smooth white bones. But the more I took, the more she seeped into my soul, and the more I wanted. She was mine. No matter how many men had had her before me, when I was done with her, she’d be ruined for anyone else.

  After the last time, she fell asleep in my arms. With her cheek cradled on my chest and her hair spilling over my stomach, she looked small and vulnerable. I watched her eyelids flutter, felt her fingers twitch, as she dreamed. The weight of her body on mine filled me with satisfaction. She belonged here, in my arms. At the same time, I knew this could never last. Our love had been doomed from the start. We could never be together, but I couldn’t stay away from her either. As long as she was in Corbett, I’d keep
crawling back, taking whatever crumbs she threw at my feet and always keeping her safe.

  I eased out from under her and rested my feet on the floor. Every fiber in my body screamed for me to take cover. This reunion couldn’t be good for either of us. She had a boyfriend, a life, and a career while I lived in an apartment over someone’s garage. A guy like me had nothing to offer a woman like her. Too many lonely nights in a prison cell had destroyed my soul. I skimmed a finger over the curve of her cheek, brushing aside a lock of her dark hair.

  With a sigh, I pushed off the mattress, intending to clear my head with a cigarette on the porch. She sighed. I froze, not wanting to disturb her. What happened next shook me to the core. Her fingers threaded through mine. Pulling my palm to her chest, she curled around my arm. The gesture was so damn sweet. Warmth spread through my veins, filling the emptiness left by her absence.

  “Don’t go,” she whispered.

  Two words shook my resolve. Who was I kidding? I could never deny her anything. My freedom, my body, my heart. I coughed to ease the constriction in my throat. “Okay.” The sheets rustled as I lowered myself back into the bed.

  “Is it still raining?” Sleep gave her voice a sexy rasp.

  “A little.” My dick stirred to life by the brush of her hair on my shoulder. Strange that something so insignificant meant so much. I rested a hand on the curve of her lower back, tucking her into my side.

  She twirled a finger in my chest hair, pausing to trace the black ink swirling across my pecs. “What’s this mean? Why an eagle?”

  “It symbolizes honesty, freedom, courage.” I stroked a hand down the length of her arm, enjoying the way she shivered at my touch. “The eagle soars higher than any other bird. I had a lot of time to think about my life while I was in the pen. Dad’s always saying that you can be anything you want if you work hard enough for it. I decided to be an eagle.”

  “Is that so?” She rested her chin on my sternum, staring up at me with those lovely, long-lashed eyes. My heart skipped a beat.

  “You know, there’s a bald eagle that hangs out around the covered bridge.”

  “Really?” Her expression brightened. She lifted on an elbow to study my face.

  “Yeah.” Seeing her happy and unguarded raised my spirits higher than they’d been in ages. “You should set up your equipment down by the river. I could help you.” The offer slipped from my lips before I could stop it.

  “I’d love that.” With a contented murmur, she snuggled back into the crook of my arm.

  I nuzzled her hair, taking in the clean scent of her shampoo. We fell silent for an indeterminable amount of time. Her breathing evened out, and I thought she’d fallen asleep. My eyelids became heavy. Most of the time, I didn’t sleep well—a remnant of my incarceration. Back then, a guy could die if he let his guard down for a second. But not here. Not with her. In Stella’s arms, the fear and uncertainty melted away.

  “You sure grew up well,” she said, rousing me back to consciousness, her lips brushing my nipple. Her palm smoothed down my chest. “All these muscles.” The tips of her fingers dove beneath the sheet to stroke my erection. “When I saw you by your truck with that tool belt on—well, let’s just say I had to change my panties.”

  “Oh, so you wear panties now?” I sucked in a breath at the curl of her fingers around my shaft.

  “Okay. You busted me. But if I’d been wearing them, they would’ve been soaked.” The warm press of her lips to my skin made me shudder.

  “What are you doing to me, Stella Valentine?” The mattress creaked at the shift of her weight as she eased on top of me. Her bare breasts pressed against mine. I didn’t wait for her answer. Instead, I took her mouth in a lingering kiss. Our tongues toyed together in an easy dance. This was familiar. Safe. Perfect.

  Pulling back, she spread her legs and straddled my hips. The stormy clouds parted to allow a stream of moonlight into the room. She leaned across the bed, opened the nightstand drawer, and removed a pack of condoms. “Well, if you must know, Owen Henry. I’m about to give you the ride of your life.”

  Twenty-One

  Stella

  Present Day

  The storms subsided by morning. I awoke feeling groggy, thoughts jumbled, warm and relaxed in a tumble of bedsheets. Golden sunshine beamed through the bedroom window. I stretched lazily. A pleasant aching in my joints brought the events of the previous evening rushing back. I sat up and clutched the sheet to cover my bare breasts.

  “Morning.” Owen came out of the bathroom, wearing a towel around his hips and a rare grin. My eyes feasted on the cut of muscle below his hip bones. A blush stained his cheeks, in a reaction both endearing and adorable. His biceps flexed as he ran a hand through his wet hair. “Sleep well?”

  “Yes.” Heat rushed into my face at the memory of all the things we’d done to each other. “Did you?” My gaze followed the path of a water droplet as it raced down the thick vein on his forearm.

  “Like a baby.” He sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped beneath his weight. His beautiful eyes caught mine. Uncertainty filled their depths.

  “It’s Saturday,” I said, seeking to fill the quiet.

  “Yeah?” A furrow formed between his brow. “I suppose you’ve got things to do. I’ll get out of here.”

  “Wait.” I put a hand over his. The warmth of his skin flowed into my arm. “I was going to hit the flea markets in Randolph County. Why don’t you come with me?”

  “I don’t know.” I could feel him pulling away from me emotionally, one inch at a time. He looked down at the floor where his bare feet rested on the hardwood.

  We’d been too busy fucking to talk, and afterward, we’d been too exhausted for words. Now, all I could think was that I couldn’t bear to see him leave. I just wanted to pretend we were normal people living normal lives for a while longer.

  “I don’t want you to go yet.” The sheets rustled beneath me. I climbed to my knees, cupped his face in my hands, and pressed a light kiss to his mouth. The stubble on his jaw tickled my palms. “Let’s enjoy each other for a while longer, without worrying about murder and motives and the past.”

  He studied my face. The furrow between his brows deepened. I could feel the thoughts churning in his brain. A sliver of fear chilled my blood. What if he rejected me again? He had every right to walk away. It would be the best decision for both us, but I prayed he’d give us a chance.

  “Stella?” Michael’s voice carried up the stairs. Apparently, Owen and I had left the back door unlocked in the wake of our passion. So much for keeping away the burglars. Guilt followed swiftly on the heels of my panic. Michael hadn’t called since our argument, and I’d been too busy with the house, the robbery, and Owen to think about him. Even though we hadn’t defined our relationship, I didn’t want to leave things unsettled between us.

  Owen’s gaze met mine. “You want me to go down there?” His eyebrow arched. “Or should I hide in the closet?” Although his tone held a note of amusement, his scruffy jaw clenched.

  “No. Stay here. I’ll go.” I went to the door and opened it a crack to shout down the stairs. “I’ll be there in a second.” With shaking hands, I dragged my fingers through the rat’s nest of my hair, pulled on some clothes, and ran downstairs, smelling like sex and reeking with guilt.

  Michael stood at the kitchen window. He had his hands in the pockets of his khaki trousers and his back to me. I studied the sleek lines of his immaculate haircut and drew in a deep breath. By the tilt of his head, he knew I was behind him, but he didn’t say anything for at least four heartbeats. When he finally spoke, his words sliced into my chest. “Who is he?”

  “What?” The question caught me off guard. I cleared my throat, stalling for time to collect my answer.

  “Come on, Stella. There’s a truck in your driveway, a pile of clothes on the floor, and a condom wrapper. The evidence is overwhelming.” The amount of pain in his voice squeezed my lungs until I couldn’t breathe.

  “Owen
.” There was no point in lying to him, but my heart broke at the callous delivery.

  “The convict?” His shoulders tensed. “Why am I not surprised?” He rubbed the nape of his neck. “Is he the real reason you moved back here?”

  “No.” I took a step toward him then stopped. “I didn’t know he was here. I thought he’d moved away.”

  “You lied about knowing him. Why would you do that?”

  My fingers clenched into fists until my nails cut half-moons into my palms. I drew in another deep breath, knowing how much my words were going to hurt him. “Yes. I lied. He was my boyfriend when I lived here. We never got a chance to say goodbye to each other. The circumstances of our breakup were—difficult.” I had no idea how to explain without causing problems for everyone involved. “It was a shock to see him here. And last night, we started talking—one thing led to another and—”

  “I see.” Michael held up his hand to stop me. His dark head bowed. When he turned to face me, his voice shook with anger. “I came here because I was worried about you, because I hated the way we ended our last conversation, because I care about you, Stella. I’m such an idiot. All this time you were fucking that criminal.”

  “It’s not like that.” But it was exactly like that. I bowed my head, tears of regret stinging the backs of my eyelids.

  “Do you have feelings for him?” When I didn’t answer, he groaned and ruffled his hair.