Loving Lies

by Renee Field

  His head moves back to claim my breasts and one hand starts to undo my pants. Leveraging up, I help him shimmy off my jeans. I’m now only in my panties. He stands by the bed and strips down to his briefs. Looking at his black briefs I realize I have another pair of his stashed in my room. He blankets me once again with his body.

  “You are so fucking beautiful. And you taste like heaven,” he says.

  I laugh and he pulls back to sit on his knees. His erection tents the fabric but he looks so fucking hot I’m not laughing. For the first time that night though, I feel vulnerable.

  There’s a haunted look in his eyes that makes me slightly nervous. “You having second thoughts?” I ask.

  He grins and gives a light laugh. “Hell no. I’m trying to slow things down. I want to savor tonight. I’ve wanted you all day. And while wanting is good, actions speak louder than words and I’m a man of action.”

  I’m about to say something, but he leans down and pulls off my panties. The words leave me. I’m now totally naked.

  “Holy fuck that is one beautiful tat,” he says, when he spies my own unique etching. His fingers gently reach out to trace the scrawled Greek script which rests along my pubic bone. “What does it mean?”

  “Freedom,” I say, wondering what he thinks.

  His gaze hooks onto mine. “Why do I get the distinct impression there’s a story behind that tattoo you don’t want to tell me?”

  My heart thunders in my chest. “Because you could be right.”

  “Honey, no worries. I get that and respect it. Now, where exactly was I…oh yes, I was about to go south. Do me a favor and open those pretty legs of yours.”

  My heart’s beating so damn fast I feel breathless. Maybe he’s right. Maybe we need to slow down. Like he’s reading the hesitation in my body, he takes control and parts my legs.

  “I’ve been dreaming of the taste of you all day,” he says, and just like that I’m following his orders because his wicked words are like an erotic caress on my body and soul. I spread my legs and before I can talk myself out of this, his lips are claim me.

  “Oh my god, you taste so fucking good.” His words rip through me and I quickly discover he’s a man with a wickedly talented tongue. Within a minute I’m squirming in sweet ecstasy. I yank on his head trying to get him to move up, but he’s not budging.

  He blows on my swollen parts.

  “Oh no, not yet. I want to taste you as you come.”

  He leans back and I look at this face, glistening with my juices. His eyes are full of longing and I watch him move a finger to my opening. He gives his finger a good lick and then dips it deep inside of me.

  “You like?”

  I nod. Speech is beyond me at this point. My body feels like a finely tuned guitar, ready to roar or break, I can’t say.

  “Say it.”

  “I like,” I reply, a thrill cascading through me.

  “Do you want to come with my finger or my mouth on that pussy of yours?”

  I think about that for a good second. “Your mouth.”

  He cracks a smile and licks his lips. “That’s the right answer.”

  I expect him to pull his finger out immediately but he doesn’t. Instead he adds another digit into me and I’m loving the feel of him pumping me. I’m on the cusp when he chuckles again and pulls out to replace his fingers with his mouth. Long licks and nips on my clit pull an orgasm from me within seconds.

  “I could suck on you all day,” Blake says, taking his time to lick me clean.

  I pull him to me and he claims my nipples. My hand fists around his cock and I’m trying to urge him down to the bed but he’s got other ideas.

  “I need to be in you now,” he says and I nod as he yanks open a side drawer to grab a condom. Within second he’s sheathed. His cock nudges my opening and he yanks my legs up over his shoulders.

  He drives his cock forward and I’m full of him and loving it. I groan.

  “You like it deep, don’t you.”

  I do.

  “Tell me how you like it.”

  “Fast. Fuck me fast.”

  The words barely leave my mouth and Blake’s groaning as he piston thrusts into me repeatedly, mumbling, “Sweet fuck” over and over.

  “Pinch your nipples,” he demands.

  I do and he groans while his eyes watch my pleasure.

  “I’m going to come,” he says, bucking harder into me. His back goes tense and he grips my thighs hard, spreading me wider and then he comes in long shudders. He doesn’t drop my legs until he’s finished. Only then does he pull out, using one hand to hold the condom in place.

  “That was fucking unbelievable,” he says.

  I watch him chuck the condom in some tissue. He hands me the box so I can clean up and then he’s back in the bed, hauling his heated body to mine.

  “Now, Alyssa, that was round one.”

  I laugh and so does he and just like that I know I should run from his bed. I’ve always kept the guys I’ve screwed at arm’s length and I’m not one for pillow talk. Why then does being with Blake, a man I hardly know, feel so damn different?

  I’m picking up all the clothes lying on the floor and wonder if I should fold them and pretend their clean. For the entire day I’ve avoided coming face-to-face with Blake but that doesn’t mean I haven’t stopped thinking of him or what we did.

  I can’t believe I did that. I’m such a fool. What the hell was I thinking? It’s one thing to screw around with a guy but another to feel so damn good about it. Why can’t he be a dick or a moron? Those guys I don’t usually give a shit about the next day. Last night felt too damn magical and that can’t happen again.

  Thank god I snuck out before he woke. God, I don’t think I can face him today. Maybe I should tell Roger I’m sick. Shit, I can’t do that. I need the money and Roger said he’d pick up my photography supplies from the store today. Hell, he’s actually loaning me a hundred dollars so I can get all the supplies at once. I hate owing people but god knows when I’ll be back in town. I get out of the shower just as perky Amy walks in.

  Thank god she doesn’t say more than hi because I’m not in the mood to talk. My body feels wonderful. Who knew having two orgasms would loosen up the back muscles that have been bitching at me constantly for the past two weeks.

  An image of Blake nestled between my thighs makes me gasp. I walk quickly back to my room and pick up the same clothes I had on last night. I give them a good shake and then carefully add my perfume. It’s Monday which means the morning crowd will be mostly families and it will be slow tonight. With any luck I’ll be finished by six.

  A note slides under my door and my heart speeds up. I debate ignoring it but then yank it inside without opening the door. Opening it I smile.

  It’s a note from the new pastry chef informing me morning samples are in the kitchen, if I’d like to try them. That girl is a freaking genius. The stuff she can whip up is amazing. I arrange my hair in a ponytail and dart to the kitchen. I swipe up her offerings and mumble thanks. She gives me one of her smiles and then turns her attention back to the kitchen. I don’t think I’ve seen her outside of the kitchen, come to think of it. I down a cup of coffee and then dash to work. Roger wouldn’t appreciate me being late, especially when he’s doing me a favor.

  As expected he’s standing outside the bar next to his red pick-up truck.

  “You sure you don’t mind doing this?” I ask.

  “Ain’t no trouble at all. Like I said, I have to go into town for a supply run and the store’s right across the street. You’ve got your list, right?’

  I reach into my black pant pocket and pull out my list along with the cash I’ve saved up. “I’ll give you the other hundred once I get it.”

  He smiles. “That be in about a day. No worries. I’ve seen what you make in tips here.”

  Roger might be gruff sometimes, but he’s got a big heart. “Thanks again.”

  “You best be gettin’ inside. That morning crew needs g
uidance and you’re just the boss to get them in ship shape. Plus I heard from Amy that there’s a family with twelve kids who just landed here last night.”

  I swipe my hair into a tight ponytail. Only in the tavern do I get to wear my hair styled the way I like. “Twelve kids?”

  “That’s what she said. Can’t even imagine that. Must be awfully loud in that house. Anything else you want in town, Alyssa?”

  “No. I’m good. And thanks again, Roger.” I say, as I wave and dart inside and not a minute too soon. Within seconds the new family of fourteen, two adults with twelve kids all under the age of sixteen, plow through the doors. I seat them and scurry to the back. Sure enough the staff are sipping coffee.

  With my hands on my hips, I say, “In case you didn’t notice we have customers.”

  They all dash out with sheepish looks on their faces. I hustle to get the coffee started and fill the orders and ensure I’m not the one dealing with the supersize family.

  Every time the door opens I’m thinking Blake will walk through. I’m not sure how I’m going to handle that situation.

  I’m so busy thinking of him that I don’t realize who I’m serving until she looks up. Carol Winestead. I’m so startled I almost drop the coffee pot. Carol Winestead is the last person on earth I thought I’d ever see again. She’s been my father’s real estate agent for two decades. What the hell is she doing here?

  “Do I know you?” she asks, her light brown eyes flicking over me like she’s trying to wrack her brain as to why I might look familiar.

  “Nope. Can I get you some coffee?”

  She nods so I pour, hoping that’s it.

  “Are you sure? You look sort of familiar to me and I never forget a face.”

  Or a cheque book. “I’ve been told that a few times. Guess I’ve got that common look. I’d recommend today’s special—two eggs, sausages and fruit salad.”

  Her eyes move to the menu and I’m praying that’s it. “I’ll just have the fruit salad.”

  I nod and casually walk away. The entire time my heart’s beating super-fast. I feel like her eyes are following me but I pretend all is normal when I feel anything but. I dash behind the bar and wonder when she gets out her phone if she’s about to call my father. I have no idea what to do.

  “Table six needs more coffee. You okay, Alyssa? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

  I hear Josh’s voice but feel overwhelmed. I mumble I need to go to the washroom and barely hear him say he’ll cover for me. At the door to the bathroom I dart a glance at Carol’s table and almost fall over. Blake is casually pulling out a chair to join her for breakfast. It’s like my two worlds are colliding and I’m watching a train wreck, except the only person falling apart is me. What the hell am I going to do? There’s no way I can go out there and act like all is normal when every instinct I possess is screaming at me to pack my bags and run. I sit on the toilet for a good five minutes willing my heart to return to normal.

  “You okay, Alyssa?”

  That’s Becca’s voice on the other side of the stall.

  “Josh said you weren’t looking good. I can cover for you.”

  Sweet Jesus I love her. “Oh, Becca that would be great. I’m really not well.” I flush the toilet to pretend I’d gone and open the stall. Becca’s propped her hip up against the sink so I go over and wash my hands and apply some much needed cold water to my face.

  “You look like shit. Anything special I need to know?”

  “No. It’s a pretty standard crowd now that the group of fourteen is gone. Thanks so much. I owe you.”

  “No sweat. Go lie down for a bit and take something. I bet you’ll be feeling better in a no time.”

  I mumble another thanks and slowly make my way to the back room to grab my purse. Without even looking into the bar I make my way out the back door and almost speed walk back to my room. Only when I’m inside my room do I dare examine what just happened.

  How on earth would Blake know Carol? The bigger question is what is Blake up to? Could he have been hired by my father to find me? I break out in a cold sweat and wonder if I’ve just slept with the enemy.

  Crawling into my bed, I feel like my world is crumbling. I keep eyeing my bag and mentally start packing. I’m not sure when I fall asleep but I wake up hours later to a small knock on my door.

  “You okay, Alyssa?”

  It’s Sandy, Mrs. McCaid, one of the owners of the place. She’s like a mother hen but in a good way. I get up and swipe my hair back and open the door.

  She walks in and settles a tray on the small desk I’ve been using to pile my clothing on. “Oh, you poor thing. Becca told me you weren’t feeling good. I brought you a cup of tea and some sandwiches from the kitchen.”

  I feel tears well in my eyes and fidget with the cuffs on my sweater.

  “Is everything alright, Alyssa?”

  I nod, fighting the lump in my throat. I don’t want to lie to her, but telling the truth isn’t an option. She sits beside me on my small bed and takes my hands in hers. It’s a comforting gesture making those damn tears I’ve been holding at bay fall.

  “Oh, Alyssa, dear. It can’t be that bad. There…there…all will be okay.”

  She pulls me in for a side hug, nestling my head against her large bosom. I’m reminded she’s done this before by her tone and comfort. She isn’t plying me with questions and I’m grateful. She lets me sniffle a few more minutes and only when I’m finally composed does she let go and place her hand on my leg, giving me a reassuring pat.

  “I know some days feel like the end of the world, but trust me, tomorrow will be better. I don’t want you to work today. I want you to take the entire day off to regroup. Roger’s back and he’s placed all the supplies you asked for in the winter maintenance building. I had no idea you’re a professional photographer.”

  I guff a laugh. “Oh, I’m not.”

  “That’s not what I heard. Anyway, I’m thrilled you’ll get to do what you love in your spare time. Now, when you want to talk, I’m here for you.”

  She gets up and gives me one last look. “You’re going to be okay. Whatever it is that’s got you down, you’re a survivor. I recognize the look,” she says, with a wide smile that tells me she’s got my back.

  “Thanks,” I say, opening the door for her. The scent of chai tea fills my room and for the first time in hours I smile. Chai tea is my favorite and I realize it’s the small things in life that truly matter.

  I finish my tea and eat all the sandwiches and then head to my new developing room. It’s already four o’clock. I must have slept a good five hours. Guess my night with Blake wore me out. That thought doesn’t make me smile.

  Unlocking the door, I switch the light on and make my way to the back room. Roger’s left all my supplies lined up by the door which will make it easier for me to arrange the space the way I want to. Grabbing the broom, I start with sweeping the floor. The last thing I’ll do is tape up the small window and change the light bulb. I’m not sure how long I’m at it, but before I know it the place looks like my idea of perfect. The two small sinks will work perfectly for the solutions. I’ve hung up a small clothesline so I can hang my photos and I’ve stacked the other solutions and paper I’ll need for developing. Who knew I’d like doing all of this? I get a sense of satisfaction when I look at what I’ve accomplished.

  Now that I’m done my mind wanders to Blake. And like I’ve conjured him up with my thoughts he appears at my door.

  “I thought I’d find you here.”

  I hate my body’s reaction to him. His hair looks slightly messy and he’s changed from the dress slacks and dress shirt he had on at breakfast time to form hugging, faded jeans and a black t-shirt. I’m immediately enveloped in memories of last night and feel butterflies form in my stomach.

  “You don’t look happy to see me. What’s up?”

  Just the opening any other person would take to ask about Carol, but I can’t. Instead I grab an empty box and begin to
dismantle it to add to my pile of garbage.

  He steps forward and take the box from my hands. Heat fills me instantly as I recall what his capable fingers did to me.

  Blake tilts my chin up so I’m forced to look into those soft brown eyes. Why can’t he be ugly? Why can’t he wear a tat on his forehead that says loser?

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing. I’ve just been busy,” I answer.

  “I looked all over for you today. Where were you?”

  “Around.”

  He releases me and gives me much needed space.

  “This place looks great. I bet you’re excited to get started.”

  I’m thrilled he’s changed the topic. “I am. But I don’t have many photos yet to develop.”

  “Well, let’s fix that. I’m dying to go for a hike tomorrow, why don’t you join me?”

  That’s too tempting. “Can’t, I’ve got to work.”

  “What time are you done?”

  “I’m working the early shift so I should be done by two.”

  “Well, we’ll go for a small hike to a place the locals call the Squaw Trail.”

  “Squaw Trail? Where on earth did you hear about that?”

  He moves closer and the scent of him—outdoors, cedar and leather—crackles through the air making me hyper aware of everything from the heat of his skin to the light dusting of hair on his arms.

  “I actually had a tour of this place the other day from the owners and they mentioned it’s a two hour hike. I’ll order some food from the kitchen and we’ll have a picnic supper.”

  I find myself grinning. He’s trying so hard it is positively endearing.

  “You can bring your camera and take some pictures.”

  And just like that I’m caught—snagged by the promise of what my magic lens might capture. I’m also nervous. I work alone and like it that way. I’m fastidious when it comes to capturing the perfect light for my pictures.

  He hauls me back to him so that we’re now hip to hip. “I promise not to get in the way.”