Beneath These Lies

by Meghan March

  Well, there they are. Hello, Five-0. Nothing to see here tonight.

  I climbed into the passenger seat of Eight’s Yukon and watched the Jeep from the side mirror until we turned the corner.

  GIRLS’ NIGHT WAS ONE OF those things that women who had a bunch of other female friends did. I’d been a loner for so long that I barely understood how this kind of thing worked, and I felt even more guilty about going because Trinity was still locked up somewhere and I was helpless to get her out. Distraction. This was all a distraction.

  While I waited in my portico for the car to pick me up, my thumbs hovered over the screen of my phone. No update from Rix, and no sign of one coming.

  Screw it. I needed to know what was going on. I didn’t give myself time to think as I fired off a text.

  VALENTINA: Update?

  I waited semi-patiently for five minutes. No reply. The car pulled up and Elle threw open the door. I hurried outside, about to shove my phone in my purse when it vibrated.

  RIX: You let him touch you?

  “Hey, girl!” Yve called from inside the car.

  Elle was waving like Miss America before she switched to motioning to the open door like Vanna White. “Your carriage awaits.”

  Smiling despite my urge to strangle Rix, I slid inside.

  Yve and Elle’s excitement could be explained by the bottle of Fireball in Yve’s hand. “We’re meeting the others at the restaurant, and then after we’re going to a jazz club for a little atmosphere.”

  “Okay.”

  Yve handed over the Fireball. “We’re doing a little pre-gaming, old-school style.”

  Elle laughed. “More like I grabbed the fifth that was on the counter right before you rolled up in this fancy car, and you decided it was a great idea.”

  My phone buzzed again and I pulled it out.

  RIX: Still waiting on that answer.

  I was thinking the Fireball sounded like a great idea as well. Rix was playing games with me, and my patience was shot.

  “Feel free to pass the bottle this way.”

  Both Elle and Yve looked at me, smiling in approval. “Tonight’s going to be fun,” Elle said as she grabbed the bottle from Yve and passed it over.

  I swigged and handed it back, rather proud of myself that I didn’t cough. Other than the shots at the bachelorette party, drinking straight liquor wasn’t exactly normal for me in the last ten years.

  The shot of liquid courage had me pulling out my phone to respond to Rix.

  VALENTINA: None of your damn business. I want my update.

  His response was almost instant.

  RIX: I’ll get my answer one way or another.

  He wouldn’t be getting an answer out of me tonight, that was for damn sure, especially if I wasn’t getting an update. All I could hope was that Rix wasn’t going to renege on his promise and would keep Trinity safe.

  Surprisingly, it didn’t take but one more shot of Fireball for me to get comfortable with the idea. Rix might not live on the right side of the law, but I couldn’t be this fascinated with him if he was truly a bad person, right? And Trinity was innocent in all of this. He wouldn’t let her suffer for the consequences of D-Rock’s actions. I hoped I was right, because I was betting Trinity’s safety on it, which terrified me.

  But what could I do about it tonight? Yve passed the Fireball around again, and the only answer to my question seemed to be another drink.

  It was safe to say that having our own private room at the restaurant was in everyone’s best interest. Creative cocktails were flowing, and food was eaten defensively to try to soak up some of the alcohol.

  “Are we really going to the jazz club next?” Vanessa asked. “Because I’m already hammered. Con’s going to have to carry me home at this rate.”

  “I’d let that blond Viking carry me anywhere,” JP, one of Yve’s employees said.

  I’d seen him carry Vanessa before, and I couldn’t help but think she didn’t mind it.

  “I thought you were crushing on Bishop?” Vanessa asked.

  As the newest addition to the group, I didn’t know who Bishop was, and I’d just met the cute, tattooed JP tonight.

  “Who’s Bishop?”

  JP sighed. “A bearded, man-bunned, tatted-up gift to womankind. And he’s also capable of tattooing me and pretending I don’t exist. Apparently I’m too young for him.”

  Yve narrowed her gaze on JP. “What did you do?”

  JP grabbed her drink and chugged. When she lowered the glass to the table, she replied, “Maybe surprised him with a little naked JP. I’ve never seen a guy look so horrified or throw my clothes at me so quickly. Embarrassing. I can never go back to Voodoo Ink. Which sucks, because who’s going to finish my sleeve now?”

  The table went silent before laughter broke out.

  “You didn’t!”

  “Seriously?”

  “Oh my God, that’s epic.”

  “Stop!” JP said. “This is my pride we’re talking about. Maybe if my tits and ass were bigger, he’d be into me?”

  “Or maybe he’s not into girls,” I tossed out.

  Once again, silence fell.

  “Oh, he is definitely not gay,” Vanessa finally offered. “He’s lumbersexual to the extreme, and definitely not gay.”

  “I don’t know what any of this means. Someone please explain.”

  For the rest of dinner and dessert, I was introduced to an entire culture I’d never heard of. Apparently men took beards very seriously these days. I was all for male grooming, so more power to them, but I couldn’t help but be thankful that Rix leaned toward clean-shaven or the occasional stubbly look.

  Wait, what?

  I couldn’t think about him. I wouldn’t think about him. There was nothing between us. And I was sort of dating a guy who would arrest him in a heartbeat. Who I also appreciated leaning toward the stubble more than the beard.

  My life was officially a hot mess.

  Pushing it all out of my mind, I followed the women as we piled into the car that Elle and Yve had picked me up in, and we headed for the jazz club.

  When Elle called for shots, I didn’t argue. Not thinking was exactly what I wanted to do.

  “YOU SURE YOU’RE GOOD, GIRL?” Yve asked as she walked me up to my door.

  “I’m fine. No worries. I think I drank about a gallon of water before we left.”

  “That explains your seventeen trips to the bathroom.”

  I giggled, because she didn’t know that I was also learning how to drunk text. I had a very distinct feeling that this would be something I regretted in the morning, but tonight, I was altogether too entertained to stop.

  I pulled out my key and shoved it in the lock of the portico door. “Thank you for inviting me. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

  Yve hugged me. “Take care. And make sure you get on that artist to put some more work in the gallery. We love the painting and definitely want a few more of the same style. You better not sell them to anyone before you let us see them. I’m calling dibs.”

  “Mmm, okay. I’ll let you know,” I mumbled, pulling the door open. “Soon.”

  If she hadn’t walked away at that very moment, I might have spilled my secret. I was feeling altogether too chatty right now, so inside my house I went. Shutting the door behind me, I unlocked the door that led into the house, slipped inside, and punched in the code to my alarm. I didn’t even notice the figure sitting on my staircase until I nearly tripped over him.

  Slamming my hand against the light switch, my heart in my throat, my scream died when Rix stood and covered my mouth with his hand.

  “Should be getting used to me waiting for you, duchess.”

  I wavered on unsteady heels, and he dropped his hand to wrap an arm around me.

  “Didn’t expect to see you.”

  “After those texts? You’ve gotta be joking.”

  Oh God. “What texts?” I decided that playing dumb was an excellent choice.

  “The ones that said y
ou were thinking about me. That you wanted to—”

  This time it was my hand covering his mouth. “Stop. I don’t want to remember. I need to go to bed.”

  His lips moved beneath my palm, and I couldn’t tell if he was pressing a kiss or whether he was smiling. He peeled my hand off and spoke. “I’ll get you to bed.”

  “No, you need to go to your bed.”

  “I like yours better.”

  “Too bad.”

  But apparently my protests were going to go unheeded, because Rix ducked and swung me up into his arms.

  I struggled for a moment, but once he was climbing the stairs, I stilled. Alpha, my brain whispered.

  I curled my hands around the soft cotton of his shirt and sniffed. “You smell good. You always smell good.”

  “Glad you think so.” He lowered me onto my bed, but I didn’t let go. “Tempting as fuck.”

  “Tired too.”

  Rix pried my hands off his shoulders and stepped back. “You need anything, or are you gonna pass out?”

  I could think of one thing I needed, but I wouldn’t give voice to that particular thought. “Shoes off. Skirt and blouse too.”

  Rix came back into view, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I think I can handle that.”

  He slid off my heels and rolled me partially to the side so he could unzip the skirt and tug it down and off. I’d worn a black thong under my skirt to combat the panty-line issue.

  “More than tempting.” Rix bowed his head, his lips close to my hip. I waited for the contact . . . but got nothing. He moved up my body and in a low voice said, “Arms up.”

  My shirt was off and gone in a matter of seconds.

  “Bra too,” I whispered, and Rix squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Trying to see if you can break me?”

  Break him?

  I didn’t know what he meant, and I was drunk enough to say it out loud. “I don’t understand.”

  Rix reached behind me to unclasp my bra and drew it down my arms. With a growl, he tugged the duvet free from behind me before pulling it up over my body.

  When he deemed me suitably covered, he met my gaze again. Liquid silver. That’s what his eyes looked like in my drunken state.

  “You confuse the fuck out of me. I want you, made that shit clear. You want me, but you can’t seem to wrap your head around it. I don’t like it when a woman changes her mind when I’m rolling a condom down my cock, but I ain’t ever not gonna listen. I’ve put it out there every way I know how, but you’re a different breed, duchess. You’re gonna have to ask for it. Beg for it, even, before we get that far again.”

  “I don’t beg,” I said. “For anything.”

  “Then I guess we’ve reached a brick wall.”

  My glare should have communicated everything I felt, but instead, Rix laughed softly.

  “How can you look so fucking beautiful even when you want to tell me to go to hell?”

  I blinked against his intense stare, and murmured, “I’ve been to hell. I don’t think you want me to tell you to go there.”

  “I hate that for you. I’d kill anyone who hurt you.”

  I yawned. “Too late. He’s already dead.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry I can’t kill him again.”

  My eyes snapped open at the pity in his tone. Reaching up, I grabbed his arm. “Don’t. Don’t even think about treating me differently because of it.”

  His eyes widened slightly before they softened. “You got a deal.” Lowering toward me, he pressed a kiss to my temple. “Sleep, duchess.”

  A LOW POUNDING REVERBERATED IN my head, and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth when I swallowed.

  Opening my eyes seemed like the next logical step, but I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to do it. Two hangovers in a week was a new record for me.

  I groaned and rolled over—into the warm body of another person. My eyes snapped open, and I registered the weight of an arm low on my hips.

  What the hell?

  Rix woke as soon as I moved. “You okay, duchess? Or you feel like you’re gonna die?”

  “Why are you in my bed?”

  “Don’t remember last night?”

  I searched my memory and, sure enough, I remembered every single thing. I hadn’t drank that much. “No, I do.”

  “Then why are you asking me why I’m here?”

  “Because I guess I thought you’d leave after you’d done your good deed of getting the drunk chick in bed.”

  Rix’s lips twitched before he gave me a half smile. “I don’t do good deeds because that means I’m not getting anything in return.”

  “Of course you don’t,” I drawled, and then slapped a hand over my mouth at the horrible taste. I shot out of bed. Not the smartest thing I’ve ever done. My head swam, but evened out so I could walk calmly toward the bathroom.

  I shut the door behind me and took care of my morning routine. Once my mouth no longer tasted like roadkill, I slipped on the robe on the back of my door, a short and silky one Rix had seen the first night he’d broken in. I ventured back into the bedroom and Rix was where I’d left him—sprawled out in my bed, shirtless, and from the look of the tent under the sheet, pantless.

  “Better?” he asked.

  I ignored his question and asked one of my own. “Are you naked in my bed?”

  A single short nod was his only response.

  “Why?”

  “Because I sleep naked.”

  “Which begs the question why you were sleeping in my bed?”

  “Because you didn’t answer my texts last night.”

  “Sure, I did.”

  He shook his head slowly. “Not with the answer I wanted.”

  “You were just worried that I was out with the cop again,” I said, delivering the challenge before I could think better of it.

  A harsh laugh came from Rix. “Reminding me of that while I’m naked in your bed might not be your best bet.”

  “Why, what are you going to do?”

  My taunt was more than ill advised. Rix sprang out of bed and wrapped a hand around my wrist, dragging me back to the mattress and pinning me down. Beneath him, I struggled, but there was no way I could move over two hundred pounds of man unless he wanted me to.

  Note to self: Beware of people with lightning-fast reflexes.

  “I’m gonna keep you here until I have answers to my questions,” he said. “Starting with, did you see him again last night?”

  “No, I didn’t. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “You’re my business, duchess, so I’m gonna have to disagree with that one.”

  “Whatever.”

  His face came closer to mine. “Do whatever I want to you? Is that what you mean?”

  I struggled under his hold. “Of course it’s not. Now, let me up.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t think so. I want answers. You seeing him again?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, protest ringing from my words, and my struggles increasing.

  “Easy, you know I’m not gonna hurt you.”

  “Why should I make it easy for you?”

  “When have you ever?” He lowered his lips almost to mine. “And for some reason it just makes me want you more.”

  Heat surged within me and I tugged my hands free. Not to get away, but to pull him closer.

  He wanted me? Well, I wanted him. The clear light of the morning was all the illumination I needed—along with the realization that I liked waking up and finding him next to me. It was dangerous. Forbidden. But this morning I would take it.

  “Kiss me,” I said.

  “You begging yet?”

  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  Rix hesitated a few more beats before our lips connected. Kissing him was a full-body experience. Zings of energy ripped from my head to my toes, bouncing off all the important places in between.

  How could a single kiss unleash so many sensations? I didn’t know, but I strongly suspected that what
ever it was made Rix even more dangerous to me.

  He took, seizing control, and the kiss went on for long minutes before he pulled away and sat up.

  “Can’t stay in this bed without wantin’ inside you, and you’re not beggin’ for it yet.”

  “Wha—”

  My protest died on my lips as I caught sight of the curve of his naked ass. I’d seen it before, but I couldn’t get over it. The man’s ass was perfection. He turned and reached for his jeans, giving me a side view of his erection and the muscles bunching in the rest of his body.

  I want to paint him. Naked.

  My brain not functioning completely quite yet, I blurted it out.

  Rix turned and stared at me. “You want to do what?”

  “Paint you. Naked.”

  “That’s what I thought you said.”

  “Will you let me?” I was already mentally mixing the colors. I’d already done it once before, and I was eager to do it again with him in front of me.

  Rix didn’t answer, just watched me as I sat up and belted my robe more tightly.

  “Why?”

  “Because.”

  “You gonna sell it? In your gallery?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess that would be up to you.”

  “The only way I’ll let you paint me is if you put another painting of yours—any painting—in your gallery.”

  The request made no sense. “Why do you care so much?”

  He shook his head. “Because you need a push.”

  “And you decided you’re the one who should be pushing me?”

  “Whatever it takes, I guess.” He shrugged. “Let’s do this.”

  I’D NEVER PAINTED A LIVE subject before other than myself. And when the live subject was Rix . . . it seemed that all bets were off on my ability to concentrate. It took me forever to mix my paints. I agonized over how much and which shades, and could feel his stare resting on me like a heavy weight.

  “Nervous, duchess?”

  I dropped another tube of paint. Was that four times so far? “What gave it away?”

  “You’ve got nothing to prove. Just chill and do your thing.”

  Something about the sound of his voice and his words calmed my shaking hands. “Keep talking.”