Tangled Trust (The Lust List: Kaidan Stone #2)

by Nova Raines

  “Hang on,” I say.

  I hurry over to the woman with her clipboard and catch sight of myself in one mirrored wall. Good God. My hair’s hanging haphazardly to the side, my makeup is smeared, and my dress is ruined. A lump forms in my throat, and I force myself to keep going.

  The woman shoots me a dirty look as I approach.

  “Excuse me,” I say. “I need you to add some names to that list.”

  She looks me over like I’m an undesirable—some drunk transient that just wandered in.

  “Ma’am, you need to leave.” She gestures to one of the bouncers.

  “Hayley?” Kaidan has followed me, and when the woman’s eyes land on him, they widen.

  “Mr. Stone.” She practically curtsies like Kaidan’s some kind of royalty. I guess he is here.

  “Yes, I’m Kaidan Stone’s date tonight,” I say, my voice sharp. “And I need you to add some names to that list.”

  “Certainly,” she squeaks out, lifting her clipboard.

  “Charlotte Lamb and Levi Tanner. Thanks.” As she writes their names, I release my breath and whirl to face Kaidan.

  He’s got a strange, veiled look on his face. “What are you doing?”

  I put my hands on my hips. He had that same tone of voice when I asked to go to the Stone mansion party… like he’s judging me for something. And maybe he is. He did say the women he dated used him to get access to events, to his money.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I promised Char I’d invite her to this, and I keep my promises. But I won’t be here to get them in later, because I’m going home the second my purse shows up.”

  He slowly nods and waves toward the elevator. “Come on.”

  My throat feels thick as Kaidan leads me back to the elevators and then uses a key card to take us to the penthouse. The guards crowd into the elevator with us, and the scent of alcohol from my dress is overpowering again in the small space. But then, for the first time, I notice the scent of Kaidan’s cologne on the jacket he threw over my shoulders. The elevator walls reflect my sad state, so I avert my eyes and try not to feel sorry for myself.

  “Can I use your phone to text Charlotte?” I ask, my voice small.

  Kaidan hesitates, then pulls out his phone and hands it to me. He’s got a picture of himself—younger—with a few friends on a sailboat as his background. Are these his best friends? My heart skips a beat as I see the girl hanging off Kaidan’s arm. Blond hair. Green eyes. And not Peyton.

  His phone’s burning a hole in my hands as I quickly text Char to let her know it’s me and that I won’t be at the afterparty but she and Levi are on the list. Then I hand Kaidan’s phone back.

  Who was that girl in the picture? Was she yet another Peyton doppelganger? I just feel heartsick. And beyond humiliated. I want Kaidan so much it hurts, but can I trust him? A niggling doubt in my gut tells me there’s more to the Peyton story… and his weird doppelganger obsession. Maybe I need to find a way out of LA… away from all of this. Just as soon as I change into something dry and have Kaidan’s driver take me home.

  The elevator doors open, revealing a small foyer and locked door. The guards stand watch in the entranceway as Kaidan lets me into the dark penthouse. The layout is similar to my own apartment, but the scene here is breathtaking—all the lights of LA shining in the darkness across expansive windows. Kaidan flicks on a few lights, and I take in the white leather couches, crystal light fixtures, and modern metal tables. Despite the circumstances, I feel a little rush of excitement at being in Kaidan’s apartment like this.

  He heads for a closed door. “I’ll get you some things.”

  His voice is cool, and the air seems to grow chilly around me. I shiver. Will he go to the afterparty without me once I’m gone? He’s hardly said anything since we left. My excitement withers away.

  He comes back out with a pile of towels and a men’s dress shirt. “The bathroom’s right through the master bedroom. You can shower—whatever you need to do. I don’t have women’s clothes here. I can ask one of my guys to try to find something suitable for you—”

  “It’s fine. Just—I need to clean up. Once the dress dries out I can wear it home…”

  “Yeah. Give me the gown, and I’ll have the hotel dry it.” He runs his hands through his hair, and the sudden tortured look on his face makes me want to reach out and touch him. He meets my eyes and goes still, dropping his hand from his hair.

  “Thanks for getting me out of there,” I say. A charge runs through me as we stare into each other’s eyes, but then I remember how awful I must look.

  I take off for the bathroom and lock myself inside. I’m a wreck. Mascara has run beneath my eyes, giving me a raccoon look, and my hair is falling out all over the place. Tears pool in my eyes as I wet one towel and wipe the wine from my face, taking most of my make-up with it. I rip all the pins from my updo and take off the beaded hairband—ruined beyond repair.

  I look slightly better once I’ve cleaned up, but my chest and arms are sticky with dried wine, and I struggle with the zipper on my gown for a few seconds and then give up. I can’t reach it. My cheeks warm as I crack open the master bedroom door.

  Kaidan’s leaning against the couch in the living room, his arms crossed over his chest, staring at the plush white rug like it holds the answer to everything.

  I clear my throat, and he looks up. “My gown. I can’t unzip it…” He strides over to me, and I crack the door wider. “It’s ruined. The designer—”

  “Don’t worry about any of that,” he says, his voice deep, soothing as he meets my eyes. “I’ll make sure it’s all taken care of.”

  His eyes are softer now than they were before, and butterflies take off in my stomach. I turn around to hide my expression and give him access to the zipper.

  His warm hand barely brushes my skin as he slowly eases the zipper down to where it ends at the small of my back, but heat courses through me, traveling down my spine to fill my center. The cool air drafts over my exposed skin, and I shiver, holding the dress up so it won’t fall off. I’m reminded too much of the last time he took off my dress. I know I’m blushing when I turn back to face him.

  His eyes are dark, his lips parted. “I ordered room service.” His deep voice sends another tingle through me.

  “I should get home. You need to get to that afterparty—”

  “There’s only one place I want to be.”

  My pulse quickens at the way he’s looking at me. “Where’s that?”

  He steps closer and tilts my chin up so he can look into my eyes. “Right here with you.”

  He presses his lips to mine, gently, and a shock reverberates through me as every one of my senses heightens. I kiss him back, opening my mouth to meet his tongue with mine, and his intensity increases. His hand falls, trailing down my neck, over my breast, covered by the now-loose fabric of the dress. He drags his thumb lightly across the wine-coated, exposed part of my breast, and my nipples harden in response. I lean into him, pressing my body closer, heat spreading between my legs as I grow slick with wanting.

  He pulls away first and gazes down at me, his eyes dark. I’m breathing too hard, my pulse pounding in my ears.

  “I should get a shower,” I murmur.

  He gives me a half-smile. “Need any help?”

  My pulse quickens at the innuendo, but I lift a brow and try to play it off. “I think I got this.”

  My mood lightens as I head back into the bathroom and lock the door behind me. I let the gown fall to my feet, turn on the shower, and step into it before it warms up, hoping the cold water will help calm me down and banish the terrible ache between my thighs. I’ve never been this attracted to any of the guys I’ve dated. Not ever. When he’s too close, it’s like a haze of lust settles over me, and I can’t think straight.

  Maybe I should have invited him into the shower and finally acted on what I know we both want, but it’s too late now. I locate the shampoo and body wash and get to work scrubbing myself clean.r />
  The cold water didn’t cure me, and as the hot shower steams up the stall, the ache intensifies until I can’t help but fantasize about what might happen next. Kaidan wants me to stay. What will happen when I leave the bathroom dressed in only panties and his shirt?

  When I’m done showering, I search for a brush and find it in the drawer. A little bit of my eyeliner remains around my eyes, but it doesn’t look bad. I comb my hair out straight and put on my panties and Kaidan’s shirt, which hangs almost to my knees and has sleeves so long I have to roll them up.

  I blush at what I look like. Kaidan told Peyton he was with me now. And wearing a man’s dress shirt like this is something… a girlfriend would do.

  And for the first time I admit the truth. That’s exactly what I wish I was.

  Kaidan Stone’s girlfriend.

  I take a deep breath and exit the bathroom, carrying the ruined gown in my arms. The faint scent of Kaidan’s cologne lingers in the master bedroom as I pass through, and when I exit into the living room, I don’t see him at first. But I smell the food, and my stomach grumbles. I’m famished.

  Kaidan comes around the wall separating the kitchen area from the rest of the penthouse. “Food’s here.”

  He takes the damp gown out of my arms, and my skin tingles where he brushes it with his hands. His eyes travel the length of my body quickly, and he pulls his gaze from me like it requires effort. I swallow as he takes the gown to the front door and hands it off to his guards.

  He’s cast aside his bowtie, and his white shirt is unbuttoned at the top, exposing part of his collarbone and his tan chest. I make myself look away and focus on the food at the table. The room service cart is pushed against the wall, and our covered dishes are set out with silverware.

  “Let’s eat,” he says, coming back over to me.

  I run a hand through my hair, nervous yet excited at the way he’s acting, the way this feels, being up here alone with him. “You ordered for me again? You know I can read a menu, right?”

  He comes over to me, leans down so his warm breath tickles my ear and sends another shiver through me. “You know, most girls probably wouldn’t be thinking of the menu when I’ve invited them up to my penthouse.” He plays along, paraphrasing our conversation from our first date.

  I lick my lips and meet his eyes. “I’m not most girls.”

  “No. You’re not.” He gently kisses me, lingering for a moment, his soft lips on mine, then pulls back to meet my eyes. “Because you’re mine.”

  A thrill races through me at his words, and the way he’s looking at me makes me feel giddy, off-balance. He grabs my hand to lead me to the table and pulls out a chair for me. I take a seat.

  “What do you want to drink?” I lift a brow, and he nods. “Something fruity, coming right up.”

  “But… not red.”

  He cracks a smile and goes to the bar at the other side of the living room to mix up two drinks for us. I spread my napkin in my lap and wait, staring out at the LA skyline.

  It’s like nothing that just happened matters anymore. It’s all been erased. I’m at ease with Kaidan. Alone like this, away from prying eyes, it feels… real. There’s this easy connection with him that I’ve never felt with anyone before… like I’ve always known him, like I’m meant to be here with him.

  Kaidan comes back with what turns out to be a delicious pineapple and coconut rum drink that reminds me of something I had at a day spa in Hawaii when I vacationed there last.

  We lift the silver covers from our plates. Teriyaki salmon, saffron rice, and crisp summer vegetables.

  “I hope you like salmon. You seemed to like the fish sandwich at Georgie’s.”

  “I love it.”

  He sips his usual dark rum on the rocks as I take the first mouthwatering bite.

  “This was the meal I would have recommended at the Japanese steakhouse… if I hadn’t screwed that up. I hope this one is as good.”

  I stiffen in my seat over the memory of him standing me up but decide it’s kind of cute that he ordered it here, trying to fix what he broke. “It’s delicious. Thank you.”

  We eat in easy silence for a time, and every idea for conversation I can come up with revolves around what happened tonight. By the time we’re almost done with our food, the memories begin to erode the little bubble of happiness we have here. Finally I can’t keep it in anymore. “You think they got all that on film?”

  Kaidan lets out a heavy sigh. “No doubt about it.”

  “I looked like a…” I trail off, thinking of how trashy I looked tonight. And I didn’t even start it.

  “Drowned rat?” Kaidan offers.

  I let out a surprised laugh and slap my hand over my mouth. “Shut. Up.”

  He smirks and finishes off his drink. “Sorry. I tell it like I see it.”

  I shake my head. “That was bad. Really bad. They’ll never invite me back!”

  Kaidan gets up from the table and comes around to grab my empty glass. “They’ll have no choice but to allow you back. Because you’ll be with me.”

  He gets this smug look, and I roll my eyes in mock annoyance.

  He takes my glass over to the bar and gestures for me to follow, so I do.

  I sit at one of the three white leather bar stools and watch him stir my drink.

  “What you said…” I trail off.

  He hands me my drink and starts on his. “What I said…”

  “Never mind.”

  “Say it.”

  “What you said… to her,” I say quietly, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut. Why do I need to put a label on what we have here?

  Kaidan finishes making his drink and looks up at me. “The part where I said I’m done with her? Or the part where I said I’m with you?

  I take a sip of my drink and try to act like I don’t care that much. “Well, both.”

  He sets down his drink, comes around the bar, and takes my drink out of my hand to set it on the bar top. I’m tall enough on the bar stool that when he spins it, we’re face to face.

  He gently parts my legs so he can stand even closer, but he leaves one hand on my thigh. Heat spreads in my belly at the casual touch, and as we lock eyes, my breath quickens.

  “I said I wanted to be with you.” His voice is deep, and he’s so close I can feel the warmth emanating off of him, smell the scent of his cologne. I’m hyper-aware of the mere inches between his hand on my thigh and my panties. My nipples harden against the stiff fabric of the shirt I’m wearing, giving me away. His eyes flick there, and he slides his hand further up my leg, grazes the crease between my thigh and my damp cleft with his thumb.

  “And I thought you wanted to be with me, too,” he says, his voice husky now. “Are you having second thoughts?”

  He’s watching my face, and I’m trying to keep it together as he caresses me so close to my sex. “No, I…”

  He leans closer, still watching me with smoldering eyes, and slips one finger beneath my panties, lightly, delicately stroking me there. I suck in a breath, and he gives me a crooked smile. “That’s what I thought.”

  He pulls his hand away, leaving me slick and desperate for him, then crushes his hot mouth to mine. I taste the deep spice of the rum he’s been drinking as I hungrily return his kiss, then twine my arms around his neck.

  He moves down, nibbling my lower lip as we both start breathing faster. I clench my thighs around his torso, trying to soothe the ache between them. My body’s burning, ready to finish what we started in the mansion… and the car.

  I tighten my grip on his waist with my legs and arch my back, moving closer so my wet panties are pressed up against him. He’s rock hard already beneath his pants, and that only intensifies my desire. Hardly any fabric separates us. I want even less.

  As we kiss, I drop my hands from around his neck and seek the buttons at the top of his shirt. When I get them undone, he shakes the shirt off, and I run my hands along his heated skin—down his firm, smooth chest, down the outline of his a
bs—and tease my fingers along the waistband of his pants, causing his breath to catch in our kiss.

  With one swift movement, he slides his hands beneath my ass and lifts me off the chair. I gasp and wrap my arms around his neck again as he carries me effortlessly into the dimly lit master bedroom. He lays me gently on the down comforter and holds himself over me, positioning himself between my legs as he leans down to kiss me again. I press a hand to his bare chest, feeling the erratic thump of his heart.

  His hand slides to my upper thigh again, and as he grips it tight, I let out a little moan into his mouth, wanting him to touch me like he did before.

  He pulls back, eyes dark, leaving me panting. “Take off your clothes.” It’s a command, but I resist.

  I sit up on my elbows and give him a small smile, holding back despite the fierce longing dancing wildly in my stomach. “You first.”

  He considers me, then nods—that smirk back on his face. He steps away from the bed and slowly unbuckles his belt, unbuttons the pants. He’s driving me crazy with how slow he’s going, and he knows it. The hard outline of his cock is pressed against his pants, and I bite my lips and bring my thighs together, trying to ease the ache of my anticipation.

  He sees my discomfort and pauses, making me suffer, his hand on the zipper. Then he gives in, pulling down his pants and boxer shorts, freeing himself.

  My lips part at the sight of it. The rumors were true.

  He’s definitely got a V.I.P.

  Without thinking, I’m off the bed and kneeling before him, looking up at him, my nipples hard little nubs rubbing against my shirt. I wrap one hand around his cock, and his eyes brighten, his jaw tense as he watches me with the same anticipation I feel.

  I run my tongue up the shaft, savoring the smooth warmth of it on my tongue. His eyelids lower, half-closed, and as I reach the tip, I tease him with my tongue. He lets out a groan, so I take the head into my mouth, making him inhale sharply.

  His hands tangle in my still-damp hair as I move up and down, taking him as deep as I can, but I can’t take it all, so I move my hands along the rest of his shaft to the rhythm of my mouth.