LIE (Right Men Book 1)

by Mayra Statham

  “What are you…” she squeaked.

  “That’s all you.” He could hear the edge to his voice, and a moment later the soft intake of air. Her hand opened on his chest and splayed wide, which he took as a good sign. “You make me hard, Grace,” he admitted.

  He could hear how heavy she was breathing and imagined her lips parted, open for him. Damn it! He wanted her. What the hell? He needed to reel it in, because he was going to scare her; or worse, have a sexual harassment case on his hands if he didn’t.

  “Really?” she whispered in surprise, and he leaned down, his forehead on hers. He could feel the softness of her lips a hairsbreadth away, and any chance of holding back was quickly fading away.

  “Yeah.” His nose nuzzled hers.

  “Oh,” she sighed, while his hands moved to her sides. He knew she would feel fantastic under his hands.

  “Grace.”

  “Hmm?” He wanted to kiss her, but if he did, this could get really messed up.

  “It kind of already is,” she whispered. He could feel her lips against his in the dark and realized he’d said his thoughts out loud. He wished he could look at her.

  “Marc?” He swallowed hard, his mind filling with images of them tangled up in sheets as she panted his name like she just had, just louder and needier.

  “Hmm?” He moved his nose from hers to her hairline, slowly moving lower until his lips touched her neck.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For?” he murmured deeply against her soft skin, feeling her body shiver. He liked how responsive she was to his touch. He just wished he could get some fucking control over himself.

  “I might have overreacted; I shouldn’t have walked away. I should have—”

  “Grace—”

  “I thought you were being arrogant and checking out—” her rambling stopped the moment his tongue licked her skin. Her head fell back slightly, giving him access to more flesh. “The hot girls and rub-a-dub—” A soft moan escaped her, and he moved his hand to the back of her neck. Her hair was thick and soft. He gripped it tightly as he kept his slow assault on her neck. “You’re just used to that, I guess,” she whispered as if in a haze.

  “What?” He wondered what the hell she was talking about. He almost didn’t care. She tasted too good.

  “You know, the movie star thing,” she commented breathlessly, and he stopped kissing her, his lips over her skin where her neck and shoulder met.

  “What movie star thing?” he asked, his voice coming off a little brusque.

  “You know, the way people treat you.”

  “What?”

  “How people hand squeeze oranges and take the pulp out for your juice or pick out all the green M&Ms out of a bag for you.”

  “What?” His lips twitched. He nuzzled her skin with his nose, intrigued with the woman more than he should let himself.

  “People trip over themselves for you.”

  “No, they don’t.”

  “And you do whatever you want and get away with it. I get it.” His body went still, her words sounding too much like something his older brother, Garrett, would say.

  “I don’t.” How could he explain that he’d been nervous as hell and watching her walk toward him had made him permanently hard? He’d suggested a dip in to pool in hopes to calm his fucking hard-on. He wanted to tell her; he just didn’t know how.

  “I’m just saying—” A strong jolt hit the elevator hard, and he pulled her close, protectively enveloping her with his arm.

  The jolt hit again and then everything was shaking.

  “Earthquake,” he told her, moving one hand behind her head and the other at the small of her back. Thankfully, she let him.

  “You have to be fucking kidding me. And I’m in here. This is a deathtrap! Oh god… we’re going to die. Oh my god…Oh no… ohmygod…” Her panic worsened with every word she uttered, and he acted quickly, doing the only thing that would distract her from what she thought was her imminent demise.

  Sliding his fingers into her smooth tresses from the nape of her neck and up to the crown of her head, he tugged back and leaned in, searching for her lips until he found them. He gave it half a second before pulling her lips in. They were soft and full, and felt like heaven against his. Her hand on his chest gripped his bare skin right before her lips opened for him.

  He slid his tongue in her mouth and relished in the taste and feel of her. Thoughts of pitch-black elevators and earthquakes disappeared from his mind as he turned her against the wall. He pressed his body flush against hers, and she moaned. They pulled apart for a second to catch their breath, but when they joined back, her hands were in his hair, pulling him to her, her body arching toward his, her more than a handful tits pushing closer to his bare chest. He growled at the faint stiff sensation of her tight nipples.

  Her mouth moved from his lips, licking and nipping his neck, and he returned the favor. His free hand moved toward the plump flesh of her ass, grinding his hardness into her front. Shit. She felt delicious. Soft and just as needy as he felt.

  “Hungry,” he growled into her ear and grinned when she nipped him a second later.

  “Starving,” she panted. After one final squeeze, his hands quickly started to bunch up the material of her maxi dress until he felt the back of her satiny thigh. The tips of his fingers went to the edges of her panties. Lace-edged silk panties were covering her great ass.

  “Lace and silk,” he panted, wishing like hell he could see. He needed the sight of her in these panties embossed into his brain as much as he needed to breathe.

  “Yeah.” Both his hands were at her waist now. His fingers moved up to the waistband, hooking his thumbs in and slowly pulling them down to her knees, one palm cupping her sex.

  “Ohmygod. Marc…” she whimpered, and he more than liked the way his name fell from her lips.

  “Shhh…” His hand moved so that his fingers could trail her now slippery lips. “You’re wet. Fuck,” he hissed, loving the way her lips felt. His eyes shut tighter trying to envision the sight. “Grace… I need to—”

  “Please. Touch me. Please,” she begged breathlessly, opening her legs slightly, his thumb skimming lighting over her swollen nub of nerves while she bucked into him. “Oh,” she whimpered, and he slipped his middle finger into her slick folds.

  “Damn,” he hissed, leaning his forehead against hers. “Open for me, sweetness.”

  “Marc,” she moaned, kissing his lips gently as she opened for him, and he dove deeper, working through her warm tightness. She bucked into him, her lips against his now. Breathing one another’s air pushed this to a whole new level of intimacy he had never experienced. And he liked it. He liked a lot about the woman he’d only known for two days.

  “I like the way you say my name,” he admitted, his thumb circling her clit.

  “Mar—”

  “Feel it. Let go.” He worked her in the darkness, sweat forming at his brow.

  Her feminine scent filled the darkened elevator. The sound of her slickness and the way he was working her were clear in the dark space they shared. He felt the way her walls started to tighten and slipped in another finger, working her, in and out. She held on tight to his shoulders. Her nails dug in, and he got off on knowing she was somehow marking him. Her wet heat tightened and convulsed around his fingers. Then a rush of warm wetness hit his hand as she cried out her orgasm, making it the sexiest thing he had ever heard.

  He milked her release, dipping his fingers in and out slowly, careful to avoid her swollen nub of nerves, while her head rested on his bare chest. His own heart was beating hard, but he ignored the way his body yearned for release.

  “You okay?” He dipped his head, asking into her sweet smelling hair.

  He gently slipped out of her warmth and lifted her panties back up, then let the length of her maxi dress fall back down. They were both breathing heavily. He noticed the earthquake had ended, though his world felt as if it had been turned on its axis.

&nbs
p; “Yeah.” She kissed his chest while the tips of her fingers drew circles on his skin. “Can I… ummm…” He swallowed hard at the thought of her touching him, but before he could selfishly take her up on her offer, the lights started to flicker and flash back on. They squinted, trying to get used to the light, their eyes falling on one another’s.

  All he could think was how fucking beautiful she was as he cupped the back of her head. Her round face was flushed pink, her hair mussed up just a bit. Her dark eyes were dreamily looking into his. But he knew it was short-lived when he saw panic wash over her gaze. He knew she was going to try to retreat.

  Chapter Six

  Grace

  Breathing deeply through my nose, drowning in the light blue pools of his eyes, reality hit me like a freight train. I’d just let Marcus Wright finger fuck me in an elevator.

  Hollywood bad boy, ‘Mr. Right’.

  I was done with bad boys.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I was done with all boys or men. Good and bad. I was a single mom, for goodness sake. This was too much. Too complicated. Then another thought slipped into my mind, making panic hit harder than the fact that I had been kind of slutty.

  A place like the Ritz-Carlton would have top of the line security.

  “Cameras,” I whispered in fear, untangling myself from his arms, ignoring the way my body instantly missed his and focusing on the fact that the last thing I needed was a video going viral of what we’d just done. The walls suddenly felt like they were closing in even further.

  I watched him straighten his body, his neck arching up to look at the corners of the elevator. I let myself be distracted. My eyes transfixed on his Adam’s apple. Why was that part of him sexy? I wanted to lick him there.

  “Power was out. They’re still off.” He pointed out, “Look.” He lifted his chin toward one of the corners, and sure enough, no red light was on in the security camera. A second later, they turned red and the phone on the elevator panel rang, making me jump.

  Being closest to it, Marcus picked it up. His back was to me, and I shamelessly soaked him in. Lean, corded muscle over broad shoulders that had a constellation of freckles sprinkled generously over them.

  “Hello?” he said into the phone. He turned to me, and I didn’t look away. What was the point? He’d just given me a great orgasm; playing hard to get was obviously not my strong suit. “Yeah, seems we’re stuck in here,” he told the person on the other side of the phone, but his eyes pinned me. “We’re okay. How strong was it? That’s it? No, just felt stronger. Okay. Yeah. Thanks.” He hung up the phone.

  “What did they say?”

  “It was a 3.5 magnitude quake. It felt worse because we were in here.”

  “Oh.” I felt slightly embarrassed for having freaked out the way I had. I had lived in California my entire life. Earthquakes were nothing new to me.

  “They’ll get us out shortly.”

  “Thank you,” I muttered, and he raised a manly eyebrow, his lips twitching.

  I knew he was wondering if I was thankful for letting me know what the person on the phone said, or if I’d meant for getting me off. In a way, I was thankful for both. He took two long strides to me, making me back up to the wall.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered, wondering if security cameras picked up sound.

  “Give me a chance.”

  “A chance?” My heart thundered in my chest.

  “Get to know me. I’m not the arrogant full of himself bastard you think I am,” his deep voice almost growled, and my heart raced.

  “Marc—”

  “I will make your book come to life.”

  “I just…” I didn’t finish my thought. Not even close. The elevator jerked, his hands moved to my hips, and we stared at one another.

  “Please,” he mouthed. My heart was still rushing, and I heard a buzzing in my ears.

  He was so incredibly hot, but it was more than that. There was an honesty that glittered in his eyes, and like the fool I was, I didn’t think.

  “Okay.” I didn’t even recognize my voice. A ping chimed, and a non-stop flashing mixed with the shutter sound of cameras while people yelling hit the moment the doors opened.

  “Shit.” He moved away from me and hit the button on the panel for the doors to close, while I stood frozen. “Fuck!” he growled, still standing away from me, his eyes on the ground.

  “Marcus?”

  “Someone tipped them off. They got pictures of us. Of me holding you. Fuck!” He raked his fingers through his hair, his bare back to me, and it hit me.

  I was not model thin.

  Never had been, never would be.

  I sure as heck was not anywhere close to what his ex-girlfriend looked like, that was for sure. If anything, I was the complete opposite. Where she was light, I was dark. And where she was thin with angles and edges, a designer’s dream, I was curvy and round.

  Hollywood’s Mr. Right just got caught getting cozy with a fat chick, and he was freaking out. So I did what I did. I pulled myself up by my figurative bootstraps and reacted.

  “I have no idea why I just agreed. Look at you,” I said with a shake to my head, steam starting to come out my ears. Who did he think he was!

  “What?” he scowled.

  “What? Worried you got caught with your hands on a big girl?” I asked him, stepping to the panel so that I could get the doors open, but he moved quickly and put his hot, sexy body in front of me, blocking the panel. “What are you doing?” I asked, more than aggravated.

  “What are you doing?” He scowled.

  “Opening the doors to get the hell away from you and continue my day.”

  “No,” he bit out, and his nose flared.

  “Yes.”

  “No,” he clipped again, and I squinted at him.

  “Look, pretty boy, I am not all starry-eyed and drolly over you.”

  “Look, sweetness,” he bit out, “those camera men out there are vultures.”

  “Right.” I rolled my eyes.

  “You want them to take your picture? Camp out in front of your house? Follow you around? Follow Lexi around? Have them waiting at Lexi’s school all day just so they can get pictures? Have them try to find out what the hell we were up to? And when they can’t get a story, they’ll make up shit you would never imagine.”

  “Yeah, right! Like that’s what you’re worried about.” I rolled my eyes as I scoffed. Pissed and agitated and ego bruised, I was caught off guard when he pressed his body into mine.

  “Back off,” I warned, looking into his eyes.

  “No,” he spit out confidently, and my heart raced.

  “Step back!” I tried to push him away with my hands on his chest, but his covered mine. I looked at them, connected.

  “Grace, look at me.”

  “No.” My eyes were suddenly slightly wet.

  God, what the hell was wrong with me? What was it about him that drove me to overreact and fight and argue all while needing to climb him like a tree frog in the rainforest?

  “Sweetness, look at me.” I blinked a couple of times before I looked up at him

  “I don’t want them to make your life hell.”

  “Okay.” My eyes wavered away from him. One of his hands moved to my chin so I would look right at him.

  “I like your curves.”

  “Right,” I whispered and knew I sounded like I didn’t believe him. Because I didn’t. He pressed in close enough to feel how hard he still was, and I couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped, wondering how good he’d feel if we were…

  “Fuck, you’re sexy.” He snapped me out of my sexually deprived thoughts, and I saw the honesty shine through his gaze. “You have no idea how badly I wish we could stay in here.” His lips were on mine, and he pulled my top lip into his mouth. I opened for him. Letting myself fall into a kiss. He was an incredible kisser. Confident and in control. He led the kiss, and as liberated as I was, I loved that he did that.

  Pulling away, I o
pened my eyes slowly. His thumb swept my cheek. “Are you going to give me a chance?”

  “For the book?” I asked, and something flashed in his eyes.

  “To get to know the kind of man I am.”

  “For the rights of the book?” I pressed. I needed to be clear and realistic. We had just had some handsy fun in a darkened elevator. I had to be smart. Lexi was six. I hadn’t been with anyone other than my B.O.B since the moment I told Lexi’s dad I was pregnant and knew he didn’t want any part of our lives when he’d signed off on his parental rights.

  Being a mom and a woman, I had to be smart.

  “So that you know I’m the kind of man you can trust with something that means something to you. So that you have no doubt I will handle it with care.” His voice was deep and sexy, but he was avoiding answering the question.

  I was okay with it. I was a woman of the twenty-first century. I might be a single mom, but I was still a woman. I had needs, and if he wanted to help scratch an itch, why not? Especially if in the meantime I figured out what to do about the book.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sweetness… I’m not sure you get what I want. I want—” The red phone rang, and he growled, pressing his forehead against mine.

  “Phone,” I whispered. His stare was intense.

  “I know.”

  “Cameras got this.”

  “I’m not ashamed. Are you?” He took a step back and tilted his head. Even though I could feel my cheeks warm, I shook my head. I wasn’t.

  “No.” His lips twitched, but he quickly got serious. He grabbed the ringing phone, his eyes still on me. I tried to fix my hair.

  “Yes. Thank you.” He hung up the phone, and the elevator shifted again. He stepped in, his hands at my hips. “We’re going to my room.”

  “Your room?” My voice squeaked.

  “Hotel security is going to figure out how to get us out of here without the vultures following us. In the meantime, they are setting up a suite for us.”