Lies: Web of Sin book #2

by Aleatha Romig

  Reid shook his head. “No, ma’am, I wouldn’t.”

  “If I asked you to stop calling me ma’am because it’s making me feel old and I get the impression that you’re older than me—probably not by a lot, but still—would you call me Araneae?”

  His lips quirked. “I could try.”

  “Thank you, Reid. I’d like that.”

  “I hope you won’t mind if I make a recommendation,” Reid said.

  “Not at all. What?”

  “You should confirm that the ringer on your phone is turned on. I believe Sparrow plans to call you when he’s able. And he likes his calls answered.”

  Jeez. I’m sure he does.

  “Okay. By the way, the phone in my pocket isn’t my phone.”

  Reid nodded. “I know.”

  It was like all three of them shared a brain. What one knew, the other two did also.

  Reid went on, “Good night, Araneae. Please don’t forget to call Lorna before going up the stairs. None of us want you hurt again.”

  Hurt?

  Was that what poison did or was he talking about something else—like my arm?

  Pushing that thought away, I replaced it with a mental image of Lorna and Reid together, recalling what she said about reaffirming their love. Now that I’ve met them both, the thought brought a smile to my face.

  And then my lips pursed as one of my hands went to my hip. “Is she the one who told on me?”

  “Your phone—the one you’re carrying,” he clarified, “told on you.” His gaze narrowed. “Wait, are you saying that my wife knows that you’re down here?”

  “No, of course not.”

  His smile returned. “I see why she likes you. Don’t forget, she’s one floor away, and I’m only two away if you need anything.”

  “Thank you, Reid.”

  The vibration tingled my butt before the sound of the ring filled the office. Standing slightly, I pulled the phone from my back pocket.

  STERLING was on the screen.

  My gaze darted back to the man across the desk.

  Reid nodded. “Good luck with that one, ma’am.”

  I wanted to remind him that it was Araneae, but before I could, he exited as quickly as he entered.

  I pushed the green button. “Hello.”

  For a long enough time to cause my heart to race, my greeting was met with silence. I was about to speak again when Sterling did.

  “Unlike the lock on the bedroom door, which I am seriously considering having replaced so that I can keep your ass in there when I say, the apartment is secure. You may not leave.”

  “May not?”

  “Cannot. As in...are incapable of, not only forbidden but physically unable. Is that spelled out enough for you?” Before I could reply, he continued, “Obviously, following rules voluntarily is not your strong suit. The choice for you to go against my will regarding leaving the apartment has been taken away from you.”

  I lowered my voice. “Tell me if I’m on speaker or if anyone else can hear me.”

  “Tell you?”

  My teeth ground together before I enunciated the words. “Tell me.”

  “No, Araneae, no one can hear you but me.”

  “Then, fuck you. I simply wanted my laptop.”

  “You had a phone.”

  “A phone,” I repeated. “Not my phone. I still don’t have that.”

  “Your office space is ready for you tomorrow. Patrick will be with you throughout the day, every day. He’s hired a temporary assistant. Winifred will be here next week to train her.”

  “Wait,” I said, my mind scrabbling with all he just said. “What?”

  “Did I stutter?”

  “No, asshole, you didn’t stutter. I’m simply getting sick and tired of you making all these decisions. It’s one thing to have all your stupid rules here in your apartment, but Sinful Threads is mine.”

  “My rules are not stupid. They are for your—”

  “Yeah, I know,” I interrupted, “my safety.”

  Sterling changed the subject. “Reid has been working on Sinful Threads’ security nationwide.”

  My free hand went to the top of my head as I stood. My voice was saturated with the exasperation coursing through my bloodstream, growing louder with each sentence. “See, like that. Louisa and I make decisions together. By the way, that’s what partners do. One does not unilaterally do things like rent office space in fucking Chicago or beef up nationwide security. Jesus, Sterling, Sinful Threads has a budget. We have expenses. Sinful Threads is not about you. Don’t you have real estate to buy or sell and a city to run?”

  Sterling’s tone deepened. “If it’s about you, then it’s about me. What I do is also about me. I will be home around nine. If things change, I’ll call this number. Keep your calls limited to the six numbers you’ve been provided. Keep your computer usages to only business regarding Sinful Threads. For fuck’s sake, eat. I know you haven’t, and, sunshine, if you even as much as think about touching an exit to the apartment, not only will you not be at your new office tomorrow, sitting will be off the table too.”

  “Sterling, wait, I remembered—”

  The phone went dead.

  “Damn you, Sterling Sparrow.” Pulling the phone away from my ear, I stared at the dark screen and shook my head. I couldn’t even be sure he’d heard what I said. In my mind I imagined him moving the damn phone away from his own ear the moment he was done speaking his royal proclamations.

  And then on the desk before me, the screen of my laptop went dark. “No, no, no.” I reached out and violently shook the mouse. Immediately, it came back to life. “Gah! Asshole, I even give you credit for my screen falling asleep.” I looked around the room and continued to speak aloud. “I don’t know if you can see or hear me, but you, Sterling Sparrow, are infuriating. And I will repeat, an asshole, which as I’ve mentioned multiple times isn’t a virtue.”

  Taking a breath, I laid the phone on the desk by the laptop. Going to the highboy in the corner of the room, I opened one of the tall doors. Just as in the bedroom, there was a small refrigerator hidden inside. I pulled out a bottle of water, thinking that despite the craziness of the world I’d entered, maybe I was getting accustomed to a few things.

  Originally, I’d planned to retrieve the laptop and go back upstairs, but now that everyone knew where I was, the point was moot. Looking around at the crazy paintings with the jazz music playing, I decided I’d stay. I liked the change of scenery.

  My gilded cage had grown.

  As I walked back to Sterling’s desk, I lamented on what I’d remembered about last night—about the blonde woman and Sterling’s power play. Those thoughts were there, but it wouldn’t do me any good to overthink them or worry about the impending conversation. Besides, I was feeling better and had a life to regain.

  Sitting back down in his big chair, I scooted closer to the desk. As I opened my emails, I also lifted the phone, swiped the screen, and after entering the four-digit code, I pushed the name LOUISA.

  “Why are you calling me from a blocked number, and are you feeling better?” my best friend asked before saying hello.

  I let out a long sigh. “How did you know it was me?”

  “Well, the text message saying you’d be calling from a blocked number and to answer it was my first clue.”

  I shook my head. Fuck you, Sparrow. “Yeah, sorry, I forgot I’d sent that. It’s been a long day.”

  “Are you feeling better?” she asked again.

  “I am. I think it was something I ate—or drank.” I left the last part unsaid.

  “Oh, food poisoning sucks.”

  “It does.”

  “Hey,” Louisa said, “Winnie is excited to come visit you next week. She has a friend in Chicago she hasn’t seen in a while. That and training someone, she’s practically giddy.” Before I could ask more, Louisa went on, “I can’t believe the deal you got on that office space. I was kind of pissed you didn’t discuss it with me first, but damn, gir
l, I agree you couldn’t pass up that deal for downtown Chicago.”

  Now, if only I knew what kind of a deal I got.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked. “Will you survive without her?” Winnie was really the main assistant for both of us. There were others who worked in the office, Cindy and Paul, but Winnie was our go-to person.

  “For a few days, no problem. And I’m feeling the same. Ready to see Little Kennedy.”

  Kennedy.

  “Okay,” I began after a drink of water. “Can you catch me up? I plan to hit the ground running tomorrow.”

  “Sure. Let me get comfortable. Where do you want to start?”

  Araneae

  It was after eight o’clock when my stomach reminded me of one of King Sparrow’s directives.

  “For fuck’s sake, eat.”

  Turning off my laptop, I packed it in my carry-on to take upstairs. I wanted to be ready for work in the morning—I’d been away for too long. After talking with Louisa, I felt better, more caught up. We’d spoken for over an hour, ending our call a little after seven o’clock. After that, I called Winnie. Her excitement at commuting back and forth between Chicago and Boulder was contagious—and at first surprising. I hadn’t realized it was a commuting thing. I thought she was only helping to train someone else. And since I hadn’t been the one to propose the original promotion—because apparently an increase in salary was involved too—I spent more time listening than speaking.

  She told me a little about her friend. They’d grown up together near Boulder and Leslie had come to Chicago for college and never went back. Winnie said she should arrive to the office Monday morning and planned to stay through Wednesday. In the meantime, she’d help the new person via calls and teleconferencing. She’d booked herself a room in the same hotel where she’d booked mine nearly two weeks ago.

  That timeline seemed unbelievable to me. It was difficult to comprehend all of what had occurred in such a short time. Supposedly, God created the world in seven days—one week. In double that amount of time, Sterling Sparrow had blown my world to kingdom come.

  After turning off the music and lights in Sterling’s office, I left the carry-on by the stairs and went on a search for the kitchen, remembering the way Sterling had carried me. However, Patrick had come from another way. I wandered, wanting to see more of the apartment. Walking from room to room, I made a few wrong turns on my self-guided tour. Of course, I could call Lorna; however, I thought it was silly. This was an apartment—a big-ass apartment, but an apartment nevertheless. Eventually I’d find the kitchen, and once there, I was perfectly capable of making myself a sandwich.

  My feet stopped as I entered a big open living room with stylish furnishings, complete with a fireplace. Like Sterling’s bedroom upstairs, this room had two full walls of windows. Like a moth to a flame, the glass drew me closer. Standing where the windowed walls met, I stood mesmerized as the sky and the city below me were blanketed in the hues of pinks, reds, and purples cast by the rays of a spectacular sunset.

  It was amazing to see the beauty of nature even in the middle of one of the largest cities in the United States.

  Before my eyes, lights throughout the city came to life. As the sky darkened, their glow shone bright spheres of illumination from windows and along the streets below. Higher in the skyline, colorful words advertising proprietorship glistened from the tops of tall buildings.

  As I stared into the growing darkness, it was easier to believe that the world Sterling mentioned lurked within the shadowed areas of the city, those not contained within the bubbles of light.

  Warding off the chill those thoughts of an unseen darkness gave me, I continued on my tour. The door that Mrs. Sparrow had passed through was obviously one of the exits to Sterling’s apartment. In his warning, he’d said exits—plural. I didn’t know where another or others were located. His threat about me even thinking about touching one had me a bit concerned. I didn’t want to come into contact with one unwittingly, not knowing what it was. From his tone on the phone, I doubted he’d believe my claim of ignorance, and even if he did, he wouldn’t accept it.

  For that reason, as I searched the first floor, closed doors were avoided.

  He and I had enough to discuss tonight. I wasn’t looking for another reason to provoke his punishment, well, any more than I’d already done. When I finally entered the kitchen, I realized I’d accomplished what I’d set out to do. I’d seen more of the first floor and found the way that Patrick had entered this morning.

  A flip of a few switches and the entire kitchen was bathed in warm yellow light. The window that this morning had been filled with blue sky was now black, transforming the glass from a window into a mirror. The room’s reflection made the kitchen seem twice as large.

  My conscience had a twinge that I was trespassing as I rummaged through the refrigerator and opened cabinets. The saving grace was that doing so wouldn’t lead me to an exit.

  In reality, I didn’t need to rummage. Inside the refrigerator, in perfect view, were two covered dishes, identical in contents, significantly different in portions. Removing the cover of the smaller portion released the delicious aroma of what appeared to be my prepared dinner.

  Leaving the larger one where I found it because Sterling had said he wouldn’t be home for another hour...

  Was it weird to think of this place as home?

  I couldn’t even find the kitchen.

  ...I placed my plate with grilled chicken, sautéed onions and peppers, and small red potatoes in the microwave and retrieved one of the two salads I’d spotted with the meals. With the salad and my reheated dinner, I sat at the breakfast bar, and did as I’d been told—I ate.

  It was as I was rinsing out the dishes that it happened.

  The energy shifted.

  I didn’t need to turn or see. I knew he was there.

  Sucking in a breath, I closed my eyes as the warmth of Sterling’s body covered my back and the fresh aroma of bodywash filled my senses. I wasn’t sure how he and Reid were able to move so quietly, but they did.

  Sterling’s deep tenor rumbled from my ears to my toes, sparking every nerve, setting the little hairs on my neck to attention. “It’s good to see that you can at least follow some instructions. It’s about time you fucking ate.”

  There were so many things I wanted to say and questions I wanted to ask. It was easier to come up with those things while he was away. Now, with his large hands on the edge of the sink, caging me between his outstretched arms, and his body coming to life behind me, I couldn’t remember one of them.

  Turning, I placed my hands on Sterling’s chest. With the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palms, I took him in, every inch—from his tousled wet hair, dark eyes, and high cheekbones to his rigid freshly shaven chiseled jaw. My gaze lowered to the taut cords in his thick neck and the slow bob of his Adam’s apple. His dark-blue t-shirt was darker where it was damp and his jeans hung low, partially covering his bare feet. “Where were you?”

  “Making damn certain you’re safe.”

  “You showered. Why did you shower?” The question came out unsteadily, as if my mind knew I didn’t want to hear the answer even though my mouth couldn’t stop from asking.

  “Because, sunshine, sometimes what we do gets messy. You’re never going to see any of that.”

  My eyes widened. “Sterling, what did you do? What happened? Were you safe?”

  Where did that last question come from? Had I come to care if he were safe?

  I had.

  In one fell swoop he reached for my ass and lifted me. Spinning around, he placed me on the breakfast bar, the same one where I’d just eaten, and wedged himself between my outstretched knees. With the height of the counter, our noses were close enough to touch. We were eye-to-eye as he stared unblinkingly into mine.

  I’d heard that the eyes were the windows to our soul.

  If that were true, Sterling Sparrow’s soul was as black as coal, growing hotter by the minute, a
nd nearly ready to combust.

  I reached for his shoulders. He wouldn’t answer my other questions. I had one more. “Did it work? Am I...safe?”

  The silence of his non-answer disappeared in the swooshing sound of blood coursing through my own ears. As if in sync, our breathing quickened. Oxygen depleted as our lips grew closer. With each exhale, my breasts flattened against his chest as we breathed in one another.

  His kiss was ravaging and unforgiving as he palmed the back of my head and pulled me toward him. Without hesitation, his tongue bore entrance, parting my lips, and seizing my tongue. Moans filled the air as my lips bruised and lungs fought for air. When he pulled back, there was more to his dark stare: the fire that had been smoldering was now ablaze.

  “You are safe,” Sterling said. “Never doubt it.”

  I didn’t get the chance to respond before his hands moved to the front of my jeans, reaching for the button.

  Covering his hand with mine, I stopped him. “Sterling, we’re in the kitchen.”

  “Araneae, I need to fuck you.”

  I gasped as his lips came to my neck. Like his kiss, his movements were forceful and savage. He was a famished man and I was the dinner he’d yet to eat. The front of my cotton top shredded as he ripped it down the center, exposing my bra. One more tug and my bra was ruined. Easing them both from my shoulders, his lips followed the material as my nipples hardened. The air-conditioned air clashed with the fire from his eyes, two contrasting fronts coming together, leaving me the target of an impending storm.

  Sterling’s gaze came back to mine, asking—or maybe daring—me to stop him. The primal need bearing into me, searching me, was more powerful than words could describe. I may never know what Sterling had done, where he’d been, or what he’d do in the future. Yet from the depths of my soul, I knew this powerful man needed what only I could give.

  “We could go upstairs?”

  With one motion Sterling opened his jeans, freeing his thick cock. The head of the hard, angry rod glistened in all its glory as the full length sprang forward.