More Than Lies

by N. E. Henderson

  “Back to bed?” It’s late afternoon. Who sleeps this late? His brother doesn’t even sleep this late.

  “The only reason I’m up is because I heard you scream then I couldn’t go back to sleep until I took a piss. I pulled a double so I was at the hospital for over twenty-four hours. I just got home late this morning.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Damn, I feel bad now. Like my brother and Kylie, Shane is also in his second year of residency at the same hospital they are all attending medical school at.

  “Don’t sweat it, kiddo. It’s not a problem.”

  “Okay, you go back to bed. Kylie was bringing out the tequila a few minutes ago so I’m going to head back.” I nod in the direction down the hall leading toward the kitchen

  “Oh. Lord.” He shakes his head again.

  “What?”

  “You and tequila, darlin’.” That’s all he says before walking into his room and shutting himself in darkness. I think I understand why they all have their window’s blacked out, so when the lights are off, it’s pitch black inside their bedrooms. I guess working long hours happens a lot.

  Sure enough when I walk back through, there is a tall glass of deliciousness with a double shot of tequila sitting next to it. I pick up the shot glass, toss the contents toward the back of my throat and swallow. Kylie had limes laid out, but I didn’t bother.

  “Thank you.” I tell her as I start on my drink. “I needed that.”

  Now, who is this pretty little thing?

  Leaning into the frame connecting the sliding glass door to the wall, I fold my arms across my chest and eye the sexy strawberry blonde pixie that just walked through the front door a few seconds ago. I’ve never seen her before, but she followed Jamie in so I’m assuming they’re friends. Good, I can get her to introduce me.

  I take a sip of my beer.

  Mason is wrong. I don’t go after women with a certain color hair.

  I take another sip, swallowing the liquid down as I continue looking them both over.

  Jamie’s a local chick who’s friends with Kylie. I think they work together, or workout together, or something. I don’t know and I don’t care. I’ve banged her once over the summer. Decent fuck, nothing to dabble in more than once, but then again who is?

  As I push off the doorframe, someone steps into my path blocking my easy mark for the night. “You planning on doing anything about that?” Trent points his index finger behind me.

  “You’re blocking my view.” I deadpan, casting my eyes downward to meet his. Trent’s now several inches shorter than my six foot two inch frame. If he thinks he can still get in my face and order me around like he did when I was a kid, he has another thing coming. For the most part, I’ve always liked Trent. He’s not a bad guy, but he’s Shane’s best friend and always came first. You’d think blood would be thicker than water, but not with Shane. Trent glances behind him, taking in the skimpy clad redhead who’s now smiling back at me.

  So I’ve caught her attention. This’ll be easy-peezy.

  “Hmph,” he blows out as he shakes his head. I peer around him and give the little hottie a once over so she knows I’m interested. “Worry about who to stick your dick in later, and do something about that shit out there before I do.”

  “You’re a big boy, I’m sure whatever it is you are capable of handling it. And if you can’t, then call Shane, ‘cause last I checked, I’m not your bitch.” I go to walk past him, but I halt when he lays a firm hand on my shoulder. I don’t know what his problem is, but the last thing I need is this shit. “Careful, Evans.”

  “It is your job to watch her and make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.” By the ‘her’ I know he’s talking about Tara. Trent is always quick to remind me why she lives in my house, why I’m forced to see her on a damn near daily basis, and why it’s my fault she makes dumb decisions without thinking them through. “So I suggest you handle Mason. You can get his hands off my sister, or I will. I really don’t want to hit my girlfriend’s little brother, but I will if he doesn’t stop touching Taralynn like that.”

  I pivot, doing a one eighty, before he even has time to take his hand from my shoulder. If I thought his words alone caused me to see red, I was dead wrong. The scene in front of me has my body on fire. Mason is lying down, practically flat on his back, on a lounge chair in front of the pool. Tara is straddling his hips, holding what I think is a bottle of tequila. My best friend, who I’m about to lose it on, is smirking up at her while running his palm up her bare thigh. Tara is wearing that black bathing suit that molds to her body like a second skin. It’s a one piece that barely covers her plump ass, dips too low in the back and ties around her neck, causing her already voluptuous tits to push together and sit high on her chest. My eyes zero in on his right hand that continues to skirt up her outer thigh.

  I remove my cell phone from the pocket of my shorts and quickly press his name under my contacts and watch, waiting for him to answer. It doesn’t take but a few seconds before he grabs his own phone lying on the table next to him. He answers without taking his eyes off Tara. I’m going to murder him tonight.

  “I’m busy.” His voice is laced with irritation and heat. He’s turned on! She has him turned on. Tara brings the bottle to her lips, tosses her head back and takes a swig. The fuck? Since when does she drink like that? Yeah, I know she loves beer and has a few shots of tequila occasionally. She takes another swig before bringing the bottle back down to her side and lowering her face to Mason’s. He opens his mouth and she releases the liquid into him.

  “Get. Your. God. Damn. Hands. Off her, you stupid motherfucker.” Murder red, the color of blood, is all I can see surrounding their bodies.

  “Like I said, I’m busy so piss off.”

  And with that the line goes dead. He drops his cell phone on the table. As his left hand goes around her ass, I start walking out of the house. His right hand goes further up, along her belly, and over her chest until he reaches her neck where he pulls her forward, down, only inches from his face. Right before their lips meet I reach the pool area, squat down on the side of his lounge chair and wrap my hand around his throat, squeezing only tight enough to get his attention. Tara looks up, giving me a strange drunken look before blushing like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t be doing.

  I look down at my best friend. “Sure you want to do that?” Mason lifts his hands off Tara as if saying he surrenders. Good decision on his part.

  “Remove your hand from around my neck, now,” he throws out. It’s a threat; I hear it in his tone. Mason is the fun, don’t give a shit type, but he isn’t a pussy in any way. He doesn’t take shit from anyone, not even me. He’ll go toe to toe with men bigger and stronger than him without thinking twice.

  I release him and stand. Tara sinks down on top of Mason, laying slightly off to his left side and looks up at me. “Don’t rain on my fun, Shawn. Now, if you want to join in...” She trails off, as she gives a sexy, albeit drunken, smile, to me before glancing down, eyeing my shorts before returning her eyes to mine.

  Did she? Did she just suggest what I think she suggested? Mason starts to laugh and Tara follows suit, while I stand looking down at both of them dumbfounded. She’s obviously wasted.

  “Is that what you want, Taralynn? You want Shawn and me to fuck you, together?” Mason runs his palm up her arm.

  Tara goes silent. She looks from me to Mason as if contemplating it.

  I don’t think so.

  No fucking way.

  Not waiting a second, I grab her by the wrist, pulling her up and in front of me before bending at the knees and tossing her over my shoulder. I don’t want to hear her answer. I’m afraid of what it might be. If it were ‘no’ I think that would solidify things. I know she is a good girl. Tara isn’t meant to do the things I’d do to her given the chance. But if it was a ‘yes’ I’m not sure I’d have the strength to turn her down. I know I couldn’t allow Mason to touch her, not in that way.


  “Shawn.” She slurs.

  “You’re drunk. You’re going to bed.”

  I make my way across the yard and into the house. Trent nods in my direction, but I don’t address him. It should have been him to stop that shit. It should be him to put her in bed, not me.

  “Put me down, Shawn.” I walk through the kitchen and down the hall, rounding the corner to my brother’s room. I should be placing her in Trent and Kylie’s bed, but I don’t. “Shawn, stop, please, I’m going to throw up.”

  I halt, turning around and taking the two steps in the direction of the bathroom. I set Tara right side up and back on her feet, she grabs onto my shirt for support. I pull her closer toward me, telling myself I’m only doing it to steady her.

  It’s a lie.

  I want her heat, her smell, the feel of her body pressed against mine.

  I open the bathroom door and guide Tara inside. She goes down on her knees in front of the toilet, making a gagging sound as I grip her hair in my hands.

  She pukes her guts up for nearly a full minute. When I’m certain she is done, I release her hair and grab the hand towel by the sink. I wet it and pass it to her. She cleans her mouth off, and then goes down on her ass.

  I squat, opening the cabinet under the sink. I spot what I’m looking for and grab the Listerine. I pour a large amount into the cap, placing it on the counter top. Reaching for Tara, I pull her up into a standing position.

  “No, I want to lie down.”

  “This is the bathroom, you’re not going to lie on the floor.” I shove the cap filled with mouthwash in front of her face. Her head pulls back as she tries to focus her eyes. When she realizes the contents, Tara lifts her hands and takes it from me. She shoots it back into her mouth, but just to be on the safe side, I admonish her: “Swish that, don’t swallow.”

  Tara tosses the cap onto the counter and grabs onto my waist before leaning to the side to spit into the sink. Then she pulls herself closer to me and lays her cheek onto my chest.

  “Mmmm...you feel good.” She purrs.

  “Let’s get you to bed.”

  “And you,” she chimes.

  “Tara,” I warn.

  “Haven’t you ever heard the phrase, don’t knock it until you try it?” She’s serious. Drunk serious, but serious none-the-less. Which is why I don’t like dealing with her when she is like this. Her brother should be the one here right now; she wouldn’t be spewing this crap.

  Tara thinks she wants me.

  She doesn’t, or at least she shouldn’t. She doesn’t need me like that.

  She needs a man that can give her everything. I’ll never fit in with her family. I’d never get their blessing. Hell would have to freeze over first. Their opinions matter a little too much in Tara’s world. So you see, it’ll never work. Why torture myself with it?

  “Wrap your arms around my neck.”

  “With pleasure.” I scoop her up without addressing her previous question. Of course I’ve heard the saying, but if I never get a taste something then I’ll never know what I’m missing.

  Once I have her placed on the bed, I turn away to go in search of her clothes. Her bathing suit is a little damp. I don’t want her to sleep in a wet suit. She could get sick.

  “Where are you going?” her voice is hopeful and it causes a heavy ache in my chest. I’m not leaving her; I don’t want her to throw up again and her choke on her puke.

  “To find your clothes.” That seems to satisfy her. Her head falls onto Shane’s pillow and she closes her eyes.

  I exit the bedroom and come face to face with a very pissed off Mason. I don’t care.

  “If I were you, I’d stay away from me right now.” He’s lucky I don’t punch him for that shit after I warned him early today.

  “Well I’m not you, Shawn. I’m not turning down the best thing offered, especially when it’s being offered so freely.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you have until graduation to make her yours. After that, I’m doing all I can to make her mine, and I won’t quit until I do, brother.”

  I advance forward, shoving him backwards into the wall. “Touch her and I’ll break you, motherfucker.”

  Could I take Mason on? Sure. Could I win the fight? Maybe. Mason and I are almost the same height and weight. He’s an inch or two shorter, but we have the same build.

  “Both of you cut this shit out.” Kylie’s voice rings out. She pushes me off of her brother. Kylie’s little, but don’t let that fool you. What she lacks in size, she makes up for in brains and mouth. She also knows how to handle Mason and me, and I can assure you, she isn’t the least bit intimidated by our size. Kylie has no reason to be. Both of us would do anything for her and will protect this woman who has her palms on the center of our chests at this very moment.

  “I’m done here,” I say, taking a step back, eyeing Mason before turning and going into Trent and Kylie’s room to retrieve Tara’s bag. Once I have it I come back out. Kylie and Mason have cleared out, but Trent is waiting on me.

  Fucking A.

  I blow out a breath as I shut his door.

  “What do you want? I have a drunk girl to attend to seeing how you won’t handle your sister.”

  “Are you saying you’re not the man for the job?” What is he talking about?

  Trent loves riddles. It’s stupid as hell.

  “Look dude, if you have something to say, say it. I don’t need you going around the world to get your point across.” Why can’t people just say what they mean? What is the point in all the other shit?

  “For whatever reason, Taralynn likes you so maybe it’s time you grow a pair and do something about it before someone else does.”

  “Did it ever cross you mind that I don’t want her?”

  “It did, but then again, you’ve always been a lying little shit.” With those last words he turns and walks off. Probably the best thing he could have done. I don’t want Tara to wake up and discover that I beat up her brother.

  I enter Shane’s bedroom. Tara is still lying on the bed, but she’s rolled onto her side. She would offer me such a fine view of her ass.

  Crossing over to the bed, I place her bag down on top of the mattress. I continue to look her over. Man, does she have one fine ass body. I’ve got to get it covered before my dick no longer has breathing room inside my pants.

  Looking away from her and down into her bag, I move things around until I find a t-shirt and pajama pants. No way am I putting a tank top on her tonight. Holding up the t-shirt I can already tell it isn’t going to be long enough so I toss it back into the bag. Not needing it any longer, I move the bag onto the floor.

  I then crawl into the bed with Tara. When I gently roll her onto her back she doesn’t make a sound. She’s out cold. That’s a good thing for me because turning her down, even drunk, is getting old.

  I place her pants to the side and pull my own t-shirt over my head. Assessing Tara, I try to decide the best way to undress her and re-dress her without causing myself any more discomfort. I don’t see a win-win here. Even if I don’t see a thing, I have a very vivid imagination when it comes to the woman lying in front of me.

  This is going to be one long ass night.

  I pull my t-shirt over Tara’s head and proceed to pull her arms through each hole. Her bathing suit is a halter-top, so that’s easy. I untie it and then reach under the shirt, with my eyes closed tight, to pull the material down her body. I stop before I breach her center, that’s when I open my eyes. I need to make sure she is still covered.

  I may be a dick, an asshole for sure, but I’d never take advantage of her in any way. My t-shirt comes down almost to her mid-thigh, but it’s not covering her because I had my arms under it to pull her suit down. I adjust and then finish taking off her damp bathing suit. I toss it behind me so it lands on the floor. I quickly pull on her pants, lifting her slightly to pull them over her butt.

  Once done, I pull the cover out from
beneath her body so I can cover her.

  I fall onto my back on top of the covers and lie next to her. I don’t know how I’m going to get any sleep being this close to perfection. The smell of Tara is all around me, smothering all other scents. It’s not helping the hardness inside my shorts.

  I force my eyes to close.

  It hours later before I’m able to doze off.

  Two uneventful weeks flew by after we returned from our weekend at my brother’s. Shawn has been acting like a douchebag ever since. Mostly he’s been avoiding me, but when he is home, he’s a brooding dickhead.

  He may have saved me from making a major mistake with Mason the night of Kylie’s party, but I’m not about to go telling him that. Frankly, I’d like to forget that ever happened. It’s not that Mason isn’t attractive. Trust me, he’s more than attractive, in both looks and personality department. I mean, the man is gorgeous, even more important; he’s funny as all get out. However, Mason and I? I just don’t see him that way, unless of course, I’ve had a bottle of tequila.

  Gosh darn Patron.

  If I didn’t need something from Shawn, I wouldn’t be waiting around the studio late on a Friday evening. I was supposed to work tonight at Mac’s pub, but I called in feigning a headache.

  Shawn is cleaning up his station when I walk over. The only other person still here is Kenny and his station is toward the front of the large room, near the receptionist’s area.

  “Can I talk to you?”

  He pauses from wiping his chair down then tosses the used paper towel into the trash bin a few feet away from us.

  “Sure, what’s up, Tara?” He looks down at me.

  I place my hands in my back pockets and rock on my heels. I haven’t the slightest idea how to start out this conversation.

  “If it’s that damn serious, maybe you need to take a seat.” He gestures to the chair he finished cleaning moments ago. He has a good point. Maybe sitting will calm my nerves. I don’t even know why I’m so itchy. Nothing is probably going on, anyway. It’s all probably in my head. I’ve never run a business. I’m probably way off here.