Tangled Lies (Web of Secrets Book 1)

by Reana Malori

  “What are you thinking about? From the look on your face, I’d say we never should have left your house. Want to share those deep, dark secrets with me?” Leaning over, he brought his lips close to hers. One hand moved to her bare knee and began rubbing circles along her skin.

  The sensation caused goosebumps to rise along her skin. Her breathing sped up. As his hand moved further up her leg, she moaned low.

  “Are you going to tell me what you were thinking?” Tristan asked again.

  It took her mind a minute to catch up, “N-Nothing.”

  “Oh, no. You’re not getting away that easily. It was definitely something. The look in your eyes is telling me you have something specific on your mind.” Just as he finished, he used one hand to widen her legs slightly, just enough for his hand to slip between her thighs. “Have I told you lately how much I want you?”

  “Not tonight. Then again, I don’t think words are necessary.” Looking down at the prominent bulge in his slacks, she licked her lips. Damn, what was he doing to her? His fingertips grazed the silk material of her thong covering her slit. She couldn’t help but release another low moan.

  “Since the day I met you, I’ve wanted to know what you taste like.”

  His fingers pressed harder against her pussy. She could feel her clit hardening and her pussy slickening in need. Of her own volition, she opened her legs even further, giving him more room to maneuver. He moved his head to the side and began placing soft kisses on her neck and shoulder. Occasionally, his teeth would nip and tug at the skin.

  She tried to be quiet, she really did. The privacy window was raised between them and their driver, but she was still concerned about just how much he could hear. Unable to hold back any longer, her whimpers sounded in the vehicle as he played her body like a violin. Maybe she’d expected this, hoped for this, the entire time.

  His fingers shifted, her thong moved to the side, and his digits began sliding up and down her wet folds. “Damn, baby, I knew you’d feel good. I can’t wait to have you beneath me.”

  Stroking her with more force, he slipped one finger inside her slick channel. Her hips lifted from the seat as she wanted more of him inside her. A loud wail filled the interior.

  “Fuck me,” he hissed. “You’re so tight and wet. Just let me give you this, baby. I won’t ask for anything else tonight.”

  Sliding his thick digit inside her body, she could hear the slickness of her body as it welcomed him. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t his cock. As long as he was touching her, that was all she needed.

  “Oh fuck,” he moaned, before adding another digit. “Yes, sweetheart. Take it. I want you ready for me when I fuck you.”

  Her hips rocked back and forth as he captured her lips with his. His tongue dueled with hers as he fucked her with his thick digits. Reaching her hand down, she grabbed his dick in his pants, rubbing and grabbing it as her own body got lost in the sensation of what he was doing to her. She couldn’t break the kiss. Wouldn’t break the kiss. If she did, the next sound from her mouth would be a scream.

  She was almost positive that the driver knew exactly what they were doing in the backseat. The old Camille would be embarrassed at her wanton behavior. In the back seat of a car, getting freaky with the Prince of the Providence Mafia. What was she thinking? His thumb began to massage and flick her clit as he continued finger-fucking her. Oh yeah, knew exactly what she was thinking. This feels so fucking good.

  Tristan lifted one of her legs to rest it over his. Shifting her body slightly, he got a better angle, before proceeding to speed up his motions. Wet, sloshing sounds became louder, their kiss became harder, rougher. His other hand grabbed onto the back of her neck, restricting her movements.

  Right as she was ready to give up because she couldn’t take anymore, his thumb pressed down on her hardened clit. At the same time, his fingers pushed against on an area inside her channel. She exploded. The orgasm rushed through her like lightning. Body bowing, her back arched as wetness flowed from her body.

  The scream that tore from her throat was muffled by Tristan’s mouth as he continued to kiss her. His hands continued to stroke and play with her body as if it had been his favorite toy for years. Although he slowed things down, he didn’t stop.

  Breaking away from his kiss to take a break, she turned her head away from him. Embarrassed at her behavior, but unable to tell him to stop. It felt too good. She wanted it too much.

  “Don’t turn away from me.” Using the hand gripping her head, he shifted her face towards him. “You’re beautiful when you come for me. I want one more.”

  “Tristan,” she breathed, “I c-can’t.”

  Firming his lips, he leaned down to kiss her softly. “You can. You will.” His lips curved in a smile. “Don’t you feel it, baby? Can you feel what my fingers are doing to you? Again? Just think about how it’ll feel when it’s my cock inside you. Do you want me to fuck you, Camille? Because I want that. I want to slide my dick inside you, claim your body as mine all night. Make you scream my name. I want to feel you clench around me as you cum all over my dick.”

  He didn’t separate from her body this entire time. Her hips didn’t stop rocking. The thumb pressing against her didn’t cease its mind-blowing rotation. Camille felt her body climbing the mountain. This time, she decided to fall freely. To fully give herself to Tristan. Whatever he wanted from her was his to take. The tension in her body released as her mouth opened in a silent scream.

  In the recesses of her sex-addled brain, she could have sworn she heard Tristan say, “Damn, baby. You’re mine. I’m never letting you go.”

  Good thing she was only imagining those words coming out of his mouth. To be claimed by the Death Bringer would forever change her life. Honestly, she didn’t think she’d be able to handle more than one night with him.

  CHAPTER 5

  Tristan knew he’d overwhelmed her in the car. He didn’t regret one moment of it. To see her that way, and to know it was done by his actions, was more than he could have hoped for. When he’d planned their night, he’d promised himself he’d do things the right way. He’d be the perfect gentleman. Take her out for dinner and dancing. Show her a different side of him than what he was sure she’d read in the papers.

  His good intentions flew out the window as soon as she’d opened the door. That little black dress she wore fit her so well. Showed off every curve of her body, while still being elegant and classy. Her beautiful brown skin beckoned him closer. From the moment he’d seen her that night, nothing could have stopped him from getting a taste.

  Licking his lips, he captured a bit more of her essence as it lingered on his tongue. Catching her gaze, he smiled wickedly in her direction. Her eyes widened in shock, but he knew she understood his message. Body squirming next to him, she lifted her glass of water and took a long sip. Laughing at her shyness, he raised his own glass of scotch and took a drink.

  “I’m so glad you came out with me tonight,” he broke the silence.

  Tilting her head to look at him, she nodded. “So am I.”

  “I didn’t do too much in the car, did I?”

  Even with her dark skin, he caught flush of embarrassment creeping up her face. Shaking her head, she gave him a small smile. “No. It was unexpected but very nice.”

  Tristan lifted an eyebrow, before questioning her wording. “Very nice? Hmph. I must be losing my touch. I’ll have to continue to work on my technique. Very nice isn’t good enough.”

  “It’s not?” Camille raised a shaky hand, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

  Tristan leaned closer, his voice rough with need. “No. I want your every thought to be of me, my fingers, my lips, my cock. Very nice is not the phrase I want running through your mind when I’m not with you.”

  Tristan knew he was coming on strong, but he didn’t care. Nor did she back down. That’s how he knew Camille was different. She took whatever he gave, without running. He’d already decide
d that he wasn’t letting her go. She might as well get used to the man he was.

  He wasn’t a stupid man. Tristan knew she wasn’t his usual type. In the past, he would have had the woman on her knees, sucking his cock as they made their way to the restaurant. He would have never given her pleasure without seeking his own in return. Women in the past meant nothing to him. He used them as nothing more than a means to an end. He fucked them, forgot about them, and they thanked for the small taste they’d received.

  Gazing at Camille’s face, he knew he’d never demean her that way. If she wanted to please him, it would be her choice. It would be because she wanted to gift him with her mouth on his cock. Not because he demanded it or thought it would convince him to give her more than one night.

  Her sensual voice broke through his thoughts. “Okay, so is that all you want me to think about when you’re on my mind?”

  “I want you to think that I’m the only man who makes you feel out of control. That my hands on your body are the only touch you need. My voice in your ear as I claim your body as mine over and over again, is the only sound you need. That when we’re together, and you’re screaming my name in release, I want you to know you’ve waited your whole life for me. That’s what I want you to think. But I sure as hell don’t want you to think the words very nice.” Leaning back, he cocked one eyebrow. “Hell, that shits almost offensive. I think we need to try again.” Shifting the arm closest to her, his hand began sliding up her leg, and she froze.

  Luckily, she was saved by the bell. Well, the waiter, that is.

  “Ma’am, the grilled Chilean Sea Bass. Mr. Lucarelli, your pasta carbonara.”

  He gave the waiter a few minutes to finish the meal presentation. Once the man walked away, Tristan looked over at Camille. “You good, sweetheart?”

  Eyes wide, she nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.” She took a deep breath. “You’re pretty intense.”

  Setting his napkin across his lap, he agreed. “I am.”

  “Are you like this with everything you do? Everyone you meet?”

  Trying not to smile, he shook his head. Camille was trying to understand if he was like this with every woman he took out. He’d play her game for now. He could only imagine how she was trying to get her bearings, adjust to his style.

  He’d give her time, but that didn’t mean he was pulling back. No, he’d just be patient. This woman was going to be his forever, so he needed to help her see he was worth the effort.

  “With my work, yes. I have the utmost focus on things going the way I expect them to, when I expect them to happen. My intensity is what makes me who I am. It’s what keeps me going even when others would have backed away to go in a different direction. I’m unforgiving when it comes to my—family life. You should know that most of the stories you’ve heard about me are probably true.”

  After a few beats of silence, she probed on the second part of her question. “What about the people you meet? Women. Like me.”

  Shaking his head, he turned his body slightly, so he could look her in the eyes. “Camille, there’s no one like you. No one. You never have to worry about what I did with anyone who came before you. You’re the only woman I want to be with. The only thing you should concern yourself with is how am I with you. Can you do that?”

  He knew the answer was just vague enough to leave her with some questions. But until they got through tonight unscathed, he needed to think through his words carefully. No other woman pulled out this craving in him before, but while he wanted to jump in with both feet, there was still so much that needed to come out.

  The day would come when she’d know so much more than she did today. When that happened, would that be a deal-breaker? She was her father’s daughter, but he was confident she had no idea about the life her father led when he was a young man. Everything about Camille made him want to build something real with her. After only a few hours, she’d done something no other woman had done.

  Tristan wanted more than one night.

  Glancing down at her plate, he motioned, “Eat. You’re going to need your energy later tonight.”

  Tristan laughed at the gasp that escaped her mouth. Camille picked up her utensils and began eating her food with much more gusto than he’d expected. Turning to his own meal, the smile remained on his face. He was looking forward to what the rest of the night would bring.

  *****

  BACK AT CAMILLE’S HOUSE, she’d invited him in for coffee, which he gladly accepted. He’d held off from repeating their car experience after dinner. One reason was due to his need being so close to the surface. There was no way he’d be okay with just a taste of her. He’d want all of her, and that wasn’t something he was willing to do in a car.

  When he took her again, it would be in the privacy of her home.

  The other reason was he didn’t want her to think he only wanted her for the sex. Which, he absolutely wanted from her. All fucking night if he could get it. But more than that, he wanted her time. Her smiles. Her soft sighs as she leaned into him as they drove to her house. The soft touch of her hands as she raved about their dinner or talked about her business.

  Yes, he wanted to sink inside her body so deeply, he wouldn’t be able to tell where he ended, and she began. Of that, there was no doubt. But he wanted more. He wanted all of her. So, he’d waited. If she allowed him into her bed, he’d make sure she never wanted him to leave.

  Standing at the large red brick fireplace in her living room, he looked at her family pictures. Her home was large on the inside and looked almost exactly how he thought it would. Comfortable, but sturdy furniture. Woodworking magazines were strewn about. Pictures of what seemed to be her original designs graced the walls.

  Hell, the woman even had a glass and wood gun case tucked away in the family room. When he’d noticed that, he couldn’t resist peeking inside. A couple long-range rifles, several .9mm and .45 pistols, and even a couple six-shooters. One weapon looked to be a .357 magnum. His thoughts shifted to the woman he’d just spend the past few hours with. Whose distinctive taste he could still conjure up from earlier tonight. Tristan knew he was a goner.

  Could he expect anything less from the daughter of Raymond Sperry? He’d be more surprised if she didn’t know how to handle weapons. Moving to another spot of the house, he wondered just how much Camille really knew about her father’s past, and how closely connected he was to the Lucarelli’s.

  Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to see her walking towards him with two glasses of amber liquid.

  “I know I invited you in for coffee. I hope this is okay,” Camille said with a smile.

  Accepting the glass of whiskey, he lifted the glass in a toast before taking a sip. “This is fine.” Walking over to the couch, he placed his suit jacket over a winged-back chair before sitting down, leaving enough room for Camille to sit down next to him.

  When she did, he noticed that she’d taken her heels off. Looking down at her feet, he saw that her toes were painted a fire engine red. He’d always loved that color. Considering she wore work boots, jeans, and T-shirts to work every day while working on wood furniture and other designs, the sight made him smile. The red color on her toes made him think of passion and fire, which he knew was a perfect fit for the woman sitting next to him. He watched her take a drink, leaning her head back as she savored the liquor. Damn, she was sexy.

  Her eyes opened, and she turned her gaze to his. “Why’d you ask me out?”

  Tristan couldn’t help the smile that came over his face. Bold. Then again, he liked that about her. With all the things they’d discussed at dinner, this was the one topic they’d steered away from.

  “Because when I saw you, I wanted you.” It was the truth. He wasn’t ready to tell her the circumstances surrounding when he noticed her. Maybe he’d never have to bring that up.

  “Just like that? You saw me, you wanted me; therefore, you pursued me.”

  Nodding, he took another sip. “P
retty much.”

  “Have you ever been with a black woman?”

  Surprised by her question, he coughed as the drink went down the wrong way. “Does it matter?”

  Shrugging, she glanced away from him. “I guess not. Especially if the question makes you uncomfortable.”

  “Woman, you are something else, you know that?”

  Not saying a word, she gave him a look with her eyes that had him getting hard in his slacks. This woman wasn’t afraid of him one little bit. She said whatever was on her mind and if he didn’t like it, she didn’t really care.

  The only time he’d seen the hidden, vulnerable side of her was when he’d taken over in the car. Her sexuality was the one area where she seemed to hand over the reins. Let down her guard. Cater to his need for control. A low groan fought its way out. Damn, she was perfect for him.

  Swiveling his head to look at her, he cleared his throat. “Yes, I have. I’ve been with women of all nationalities and backgrounds. A woman is beautiful in whatever skin she’s in, and I’ve partaken of my fair share.”

  Standing suddenly, she walked a few steps away. “You’re in the news a lot.”

  He placed his glass on the table in front of him. Measuring his words, he knew the next few minutes would determine how things would go from here on out. Leaning back, he crossed one leg over the other. “Yes. I guess I am.”

  She was facing him now. “Earlier, you said most of the things I’ve read about you were probably true.”

  Nodding, he continued looking her in the eyes. He wasn’t ashamed of who he was. He’d never come outright and told any of the women he dated what his family was into. Tonight would be the night for him to start. But he was interested in where this was going.

  “Yes. I did say that.”

  “My father didn’t raise me like a normal girl.”

  Laughing under his breath, he wondered if she had to explain this to others in the past. The smile fell from his lips. He didn’t want to think about another man sitting where he sat right now.