Lie to Me

by Verdenius, Angela

  But there was confusion there as well, puzzlement, a slight frown etching his brow.

  It was that frown that had her jerking upwards, pain slicing through her at his displeasure, but his grip on her neckline didn’t relinquish and she almost fell on top of him.

  She caught herself on her hands, one on the armrest above his head, the other on the back of the sofa, bracing on her arms. The ache in her arm from the stitches was nothing compared to being braced above the gorgeous specimen lying on her sofa. Impatiently, she blew a lock of hair off her forehead. “Ryder, let go.”

  “You.” His eyes widened. “It was you.”

  “What?” Letting go of the back of the sofa, she grabbed his wrist. “What are you talking about?”

  “It wasn’t a dream.” His eyes narrowed, slid over her face. “Jesus, you weren’t a dream. You kissed me.”

  “No, you kissed me just now,” she corrected, heart pattering in her chest, her cheeks flushing. “You wanted me to come closer and-”

  “I’ve dreamed of you.” He didn’t release her, forcing her to continue to brace herself on the armrest, her face dangerously close to his as he studied her.

  “More like a nightmare, you mean.” She tried to shove upward. “Let go.”

  He moved fast, sudden, taking her completely by surprise. One minute she was hovering above him, the next he’d pushed her back and around, following her down so that before she knew it she was lying on her back on the sofa gaping up at him in surprise.

  Now it was his arm braced above her, big hand on the arm rest, biceps and triceps bulging as they took his weight, the sun tattoo flexing across the hard swell of his pec, the nipple ring glinting a little as he moved.

  “You.” He looked down at her, gaze fixing on her eyes. “You’re my dream girl.”

  I can only wish. She was just lucky she didn’t say that out loud. “Look, Ryder, I don’t know what you were drinking, eating, smoking or snorting before you sacked out on my sofa, but I’m not amused.”

  “Nor am I.” His gaze sharpened. “But now I know.”

  “Know what?” Exasperated - and let's face it, a little turned on because who wouldn’t be with a hard-muscled, sinfully handsome man lying on top of them? - Dee again blew the irritating lock of her hair out of her eye.

  Immediately Ryder reached up, smoothing the lock of hair back with surprisingly gentle fingers. His eyes were thoughtful now, considering, and a little unnerving.

  “Look, whatever you’re thinking, you’ve got the wrong end of the stick.” Dee tried to ignore the heat of his body that slid so deliciously through her. “What the hell is up with you?”

  Uh oh, was that hard press between the juncture of her thighs a divine answer? Holy crap, was Ryder aroused?

  Her heart thumped harder but she was confused to find him still studying her, seemingly unaware of the fact that his manhood was unashamedly seeking freedom from his pants.

  “I’ve had this dream on and off for years,” Ryder said quietly, his eyes locked on hers. “This woman leaning over me. I want her, she’s so hot, smells so sweet, is so soft. I beckon to her and she comes closer.”

  Eyes widening, Dee froze. There was no doubting now to the event he referred. Oh shit, he actually remembered?

  “Yeah.” His gaze slid to her lips, slid slowly back up a whole lot hotter. “I kissed her. One kiss. It’s hot, I want more, but then there’s nothing.” He paused. “It’s you. It was you.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she lied.

  “I think you do.” He watched her unblinkingly. “You do because you were there.”

  “You’re confusing things.” Placing a hand on his shoulder, she shoved. “Get off me.”

  He didn’t budge an inch.

  She shoved again. “Damn it, Ryder, shift your arse. I’m serious.”

  He grabbed her wrist, pressed it down on the cushion by her head. His expression held the familiar determination that was so much a part of him when he wanted answers and wasn’t prepared to muck around.

  “Look.” She tried for calmness. “You’re confused. You were in a deep sleep, you were dreaming, you woke up and saw me. That’s all it is.”

  His gaze studied her narrowly. “You’re lying.”

  “No, I’m not.” Yep, lying big time.

  “I know it was you.”

  “I know you’re being a dumb arse. Now let me up.”

  “I know you kissed me. I just don’t know why I can’t remember much more about it.”

  “Maybe because it didn’t happen.”

  “No, it happened.” His hips eased down on hers, settling heavily, his shaft pressed between them.

  Making her almost swallow her bloody tongue. Against her better judgement her body was readying for him, creaming, nipples pebbling. She could only hope he didn’t notice the traitorous little buds pushing demandingly against the bodice of her nightgown, which, incidentally, was the only thing separating their bodies because she didn’t wear panties to bed.

  If she’d known she’d be lying under Ryder like this, she’d have gone to bed in trackie daks. To be fair, she’d had no idea when she stumbled out of bed and walked into her own lounge room in her own flat that he’d have sacked out on her sofa.

  Nice surprise then.

  Freakin’ deliciously scary now.

  “Why won’t you admit it?” he asked.

  “Because it didn’t happen.”

  After several seconds of just looking at her, he lowered his face and she tensed, melted, was conflicted.

  Was he going to kiss her? Did she want him to? Well, that was a bloody idiotic question to ask, of course she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her and never stop. Wanted him to kiss her, stroke her, make love to her. Love her.

  But he didn’t love her. That was the blatant, heartbreaking truth. “Ryder-” Her voice stopped on a gasp as his breath was suddenly against her ear, hot and moist, his hard chest pressed to her breasts, their bodies lying against each other from chest to hips, even their legs entangled.

  “Why won’t you admit it?” he breathed.

  His words were a hot puff of air against the delicate skin of her ear, making her shiver. “B-because it didn’t-”

  “Don’t lie to me, babe.”

  “Ryder,” she began shakily.

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  She swallowed, her fingers closing convulsively on the hand he held trapped to the cushion.

  “Why won’t you admit it?” he whispered.

  Admit that it was that kiss that had changed her world forever? Made her fall in love with a man who didn’t love her in turn? Have him pity her? She’d rather burn in hell.

  “Tell me it was you.” His words were soft, seductive.

  “It doesn’t-”

  “Tell me.” His lips brushed her ear, making her blood surge thickly. “Tell me, babe.”

  “This is ridiculous.” No, that’d be how weak her voice sounded. “Nothing happened.”

  “You kissed me.” He nibbled her ear.

  Her eyes almost crossed.

  “I kissed you.” His tongue slicked her earlobe, his teeth scraped the rim.

  Dee had to clench her hands to stop from reaching for him.

  “You came when I called, babe.” His whisper was almost carnal in its huskiness. “I called, you came.”

  “No….”

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  “I’m not-”

  “Dee.” There was definite censure in his tone, but there was also hot, decadent desire. “I know you.”

  Oh God, did he ever. He’d tasted her, kissed her, forged the depths of her. If he ever knew how much hold he had over her… Christ, he could be ruthless when he chose.

  She’d never survive.

  Ryder lifted his head, shifted so that their noses almost touched, their breaths mingling. His eyes were hot, heavy, so deep a blue with ardour that she could almost feel the erotic burn. “You were there.” He looked down at her, de
ep into her eyes, so deep she could swear she felt the touch to her soul.

  There was no way she could stop the word slipping from her. “Yes.”

  His eyes closed, his head tipped back, revealing the long, strong lines of his throat.

  She swallowed, her gaze feasting on the sight, her body luxuriating in the sensation of his hard, hot weight atop her. Her heart surged with love, then with fear, the combination almost smothering her.

  Abruptly his head tilted forward, dropped, and he claimed her mouth, kissing her ruthlessly, plundering the tender depths hungrily.

  One touch of his lips and she was lost, her heart filling, her body responding, her mouth eating at his as she took everything he gave, gave him everything she had, gave herself up to him.

  His hand was between them as he lifted his hips, long fingers hooking into the hem of her nightgown and pulling it up. She lifted her hips as well, allowing the nightgown to slide up over her hips, gasping when his fingers delved between her thighs, sliding easily in her creaminess, his big hand filling the gap between her thighs as she opened for him.

  He found her entrance unerringly, sliding his finger deep, making her arch, swallowing her cry. His thumb found her clitoris, stroked it, had her mewling into his mouth as he continued to make her cry out, feasting on her desire.

  Her heart hammered, her blood surged hot and thick, her nerves spiralling out of control. He tasted strong, masculine. His movements were sure, steady, deliberate. He knew what he wanted, knew what she needed.

  His hand left her, leaving her feeling empty, but then he lifted himself up, one arm reaching back as he shoved his pants down over his hips and further, bracing himself above her.

  Going still. Looking down at her.

  The air around them was heavy with desire, the temperature generated by their bodies heating her skin.

  Without breaking their gazes, Ryder moved abruptly, reaching down to catch her behind her knee, bending it up so that it rested against the back of the sofa, opening her to him.

  The muscles in his thighs flexed against her inner thighs, the power in them as undeniable as the strength of his hands, the bulge of the muscles in his arms. The potency in his eyes as he locked their gazes together. The firmness of his lips. The slight flush in his cheekbones. The hot glow in his eyes.

  Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his hips, dragged his shaft over her belly and mound, slid between her thighs. Every move was deliberate, and she lay beneath him, helpless to do anything but what he wanted, controlled by his eyes alone.

  The blunt head of his shaft probed against her, bumping erotically along her perineum, the tip just breaching her opening.

  That’s where he stopped with a low curse.

  “Ryder,” she pleaded, wriggling against him, seeking his length. “Please.”

  “Wait.” The order was harsh, but the carnality on his face was unmistakeable. “Stay still.” When she didn’t immediately comply, he growled, “Babe. Still.”

  Fear flooded her, her breath catching at the thought that he was going to leave her, didn’t want her even though the thick erection parting her so lightly was undeniable.

  “Stay still or I’m going to enter you without protection, we’ve done that twice already.” His eyes shimmered with lust. “You’re going to help me.”

  Blankly, she looked up at him, her gaze lowering to watch as he manoeuvred with skill to draw the wallet from his pants pocket. How he managed it with them shoved down around his hard thighs she had not a clue, but then he’d had plenty of practise.

  Pushing that thought aside, she continued to watch as he flipped the wallet open one-handed, laying it to rest right between her breasts. Her gaze flew up to find him smiling slightly as he pulled out a condom from the wallet, placing the corner of the foil packet between his teeth as he closed the wallet and tossed it aside. Taking the packet in his fingers, he ripped it open with his teeth in one strong movement and tossed the foil aside as well, keeping the condom in his fingers.

  He held it up in front of her. “Take it.”

  “What?” she whispered huskily.

  “Take it.”

  “But-”

  His grin was a little more wicked. “You’re putting it on me, babe.”

  “Me?” Her eyes widened even as her heart picked up pace at just the thought of rolling the condom down that thick phallus. “I’ve never put a condom on in my life!”

  His smile grew wider, more wicked. “Just follow my directions and we’ll do fine.”

  In a movement that left her admiring but not astounded, mostly because she knew how strong he was, Ryder braced his arms and feet on the sofa and lifted off her, holding himself above her.

  They both looked down at his rock-hard abdomen to where his shaft, which looked equally as rock hard, curved up his belly. It was thick, the tip leaking a little.

  Slowly Ryder’s gaze rose to snag onto hers, humour mixed in with the heat in his eyes. “Think you can handle that, babe?”

  Handle it? It made her feel faint at just the sight. It also made her want to taste him, but her courage only went so far.

  Taking a deep, shaky breath, she said brazenly, “I can handle anything you give me.” It would have sounded a lot better if she wasn’t so breathless.

  His laugh was low, shamelessly immoral. “We’ll see.”

  “Yeah,” she croaked. “We will.” Before she lost her courage, she took the condom from him. “You’ll eat your words.”

  “I’d rather eat you.” Now his laugh was totally debauched, matching the gleam in his eyes. “And I will later. But for now, I want you to pinch the end of the condom between your fingertips.”

  Okay, she might be a novice at condom usage, but she wasn’t a total idiot. She’d read books, even watched an x-rated movie her parents had no idea she’d found in her brother Bill’s room when she was a teenager. No one nowadays grew up without knowing the rudimentaries of condom usage.

  Pinching the end of the condom carefully, she reached down to place it against the blunt head of Ryder’s shaft.

  Christ, it was hot, the head a little spongy, but the shaft when she slid the fingertips of her other hand under the head to encircle it was so hard, so thick, that she wondered if she’d even get the condom on, much less fit his shaft inside her.

  Ryder was still, so very still, poised above her, the muscles in his arms and chest bunching as she shifted against him, his chest rising as he took a deep breath in when she touched him, her fingers playing along his shaft.

  “Use your thumbs and fingers,” he ordered in a voice harsh with need. “Roll it down me.”

  She was afraid she’d bungle it, her hands shaking with her own desire, the sensation of his manhood against her fingers, the life-giving seed that glimmered from the little slit making her secrets weep a little more, her insides flutter as her sheath shivered with prurience.

  He dipped his head, placing his mouth against her ear, his breath hot. “Roll it all the way down, babe. Now.” When she obeyed slowly, delighting in the new sensations of his shaft against her hands, he sucked in a deep breath, let it out ardently against her skin, and then nipped her throat sharply. “You want to play, babe? I’ll play with you later.” His promise was dark. “But right now you do what you’re told. Get that rubber on me.”

  The blatant need in his voice, the voracity of it, emboldened her, made her turn her head so that her mouth was against his ear in turn. Her voice was pure teasing heat. “And if I don’t?”

  He didn’t move an inch. “I’m coming into you regardless.” The darkness of his voice now held an erotic threat. “And there’ll be a reckoning afterwards.” His head turned slightly, nuzzling her cheek. “It’s not wise to prod the beast right now.’

  “I kind of thought you’d be doing the prodding.” Then, before he could reply, she slid her hand down him, taking the rest of the condom in one smooth motion to sheath his shaft, trapping the seed within the latex confines.

  His breath sucke
d in harshly and he shoved upwards, arms straightening, his eyes burning down into hers as she fell back on the cushion.

  She could feel him, see him, and it was all dark, hedonistic heat. The carnal light in his eyes burned, his jaw tight, his gaze locked on hers.

  Her skin felt like it was on fire, little sparks of desire pulling low in her belly, strings of erotic nerves pulsing inside her.

  She looked up at him, her lips parting as she felt the tip of his latex-covered shaft nudge at her entrance, the moistness of her body making his pathway easier as he flexed his hips and slowly, without mercy, he breached her once more, only this time he didn’t stop.

  Nor did he stop looking at her, his pupils dilating with hedonistic pleasure as he moved unhesitatingly onwards, forcing her tight sheath to accommodate him, driving inwards in a slow, steady push until he was seated deep inside her, and then he stopped, poised above her, waiting, watching.

  God, she was so full. His shaft filled her, an invasion that had her sheath involuntarily clasping around him, unable to do more than try to grasp the thick, hard length that had tunnelled through and now rested so deep inside her that she could actually feel his heavy sac nestled against her perineum.

  It was magical, scary, and carnal all at once.

  Ryder started to move, a slow slide back that had every nerve ending sputtering and flaring, her breath drawing from her in a low, long gasp, and still he held her gaze, silently demanding she look at him as he began the long, slow, sensuous push back into her.

  It wasn’t a slide, it had power. It wasn’t sweet, it was forceful. It wasn’t tentative, it was determined.

  It should have been frightening, instead it drove her own passion higher, had her reaching for him, his name on her lips, her heart aching even as her body ached, both for the one man, both for different reasons.

  Her body rejoiced that he was in her, against her.

  Her heart rejoiced that he was with her.

  Though Ryder’s hips were against hers, he kept upright on his arms, muscles bunching easily as he rode her, and all she could do was hold onto his forearms, dig her nails in when he denied her the chance to wrap her arms around him.