Betrayed by Lies

by Rebecca Shea

  "About what?" I turn and find Kate standing just outside the patio door, a plastic bag hanging from her fingertips. She must’ve just gotten home, as she's wearing a tight black skirt that hits her just below the knees and a red blouse that's wrinkled around the bottom where she's pulled it out from her skirt.

  She wiggles her bare toes on the patio and starts toward me. "Well, you're drinking straight from a whiskey bottle and you haven't even touched what I assume is your dinner in that takeout box, so something must be up." Both of her eyebrows rise, and her lips purse as she nods toward my food.

  I hold up the whiskey bottle and smirk. "I don't have glasses or ice, and that…" I nod back to the take out box. "Just haven't gotten to that yet."

  She side-eyes the whiskey bottle in my hand, and I inwardly cringe that in just a few swallows a quarter of the bottle is gone.

  "So do you want to talk about it?" she asks me again and sits down in the chair next to me, dropping the plastic bag from her hand onto the small side table next to her chair.

  "Not really," I sigh, pulling the whiskey bottle back to my lips and pausing when I see her carefully watching me. Instead of taking a sip, I reach out and offer her the bottle.

  She looks at the bottle and then back to me, twice. Finally, her long fingers reach for the glass bottle and she takes it, her eyes studying the amber liquid as it sways. She holds it in her hand carefully before lifting it to her mouth. Her pink lips part slightly as the rim of the bottle touches her bottom lip, and I wonder what those lips taste like. My body reacts as she tips the bottle back and takes a swallow of the amber liquid. I watch the muscles in her neck constrict as she swallows. The soft skin of her neck is calling to me, begging for my tongue, and the exposed skin of her chest that peeks out from her blouse is taunting me to drag my fingers across it. My body reacts, my pulse simmering as I watch her carefully. I fight back the need to taste and the desire to touch her until my balls begin to ache.

  Her eyes close tightly as she downs more of the whiskey, the burn of the liquid all too familiar as I feel it still settling in my own stomach. When her blue eyes finally meet mine, she leans forward, her face mere inches from mine. Her eyes dance between mine, and her full lips twist into a grin. Lips I want to devour. Her tongue brushes her lower lip, teasing me, and the slightest hints of whiskey roll off her tongue when she begins speaking to me.

  "Follow me," she says as she stands up, the whiskey bottle still wrapped tightly in her fingers. She grabs her bag off the table and saunters across the patio and into the open French door. I watch her tight ass sway from side to side with each step she takes, calling for me.

  I let out a quiet laugh and grab my takeout box, following her inside. At the large island, Kate presses her hands to the edge of the granite counter, and her head drops forward. The bottle of whiskey and two glasses with ice are perched in front of her.

  I stand across from her, mimicking her stance and wrapping my fingers tightly on the other side of the island. I lean in over the middle of the island, bringing my body close to her, and then I study her beautiful face, taking in every smooth curve and hard line. I notice a small mole just below her lower lip, and I instantly want to drag my tongue across it, across her full lips, down her neck, and over every inch of her body.

  I reach down and pour a good amount of whiskey into each glass, pouring slightly more into mine. I round the end of the island, a glass in each hand and stand in front of Kate. Too close. So close I can smell her perfume and see the rise and fall of her breasts with each quick breath she takes. I've lost all rational thought when it comes to Kate, and my desire is going to get the better of me in mere seconds.

  I lift my glass of whiskey and down it in a single swallow. The ice numbs the burn, and I smack my lips, enjoying the taste. Kate slowly reaches forward and takes her glass from my hand. She swirls the amber liquid around the small chunks of ice before shooting the whiskey all in one swallow. She places her glass on the counter next to mine and turns back to me. I take two small steps, closing the distance between us. It's now or never. As I move in, there isn't a hint of hesitation on her face, and her blue eyes welcome me home.

  Chapter Six

  Kate

  It's impossible to deny the desire floating in the air around us; an entire conversation is happening between us without a single spoken word. One step and he's pressed against me, his lips crashing into mine, stealing my breath away.

  Hungry yet gentle, his lips pull me into him.

  "Sam," I muster between kisses.

  He moves, trapping me between the island and his six-foot-two wall of muscle. His fingers twist into my hair as he kisses me, and then he suddenly stops, pulling his lips away slowly, breaking our connection. My head buzzes and I'm not sure if it's the whiskey or Sam, but it's a heavenly feeling.

  "Kate," he breathes and rests his forehead against mine. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have—"

  "Stop," I tell him and hold his face between my hands. "Do it again."

  He hesitates, closing his eyes for a moment, when I lean in and press my lips to his, my kiss an unspoken invitation. His fingers expertly work the buttons on my blouse, careful yet quick. His thumbs brush my collarbones as he slides the blouse off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

  He inhales sharply as he traces a line with his forefinger, down my chest and between my breasts, stopping on the front clasp. He looks to me for permission to continue. I take a deep breath and reach for his hand, pulling him closer to me. Lacing my fingers through his, I guide him out of the kitchen and down the hall to my bedroom.

  I lead him into my room and fumble through the dark to turn on my small bedside lamp. It provides a dim light, just enough to see, but not enough that it's distracting. When I turn around, I find Sam sitting on the end of my chaise lounge, his elbows propped on his knees as he carefully watches me. I walk back to him and stand in front of him, looking down into his stunning brown eyes.

  "You sure?" he asks, his eyes full of lust as he runs a hand up my outer thigh, brushing the sensitive skin just under the hem of my skirt. I take a step back and his hand falls from my leg to his lap. I reach behind me, lowering the zipper on the back of my skirt, and I shimmy out of it slowly. It falls in a pile around my feet, and I step out of it, kicking it aside.

  An audible gasp escapes him as I stand before him in black lace panties and a matching bra. I thank myself for wearing my nice lingerie today and not my cotton panties that I've learned to love. I rock gently from foot to foot, my hips swaying along with me. Sam's eyes sparkle, and a small grin tugs at his lips. He reaches for me to come closer, but I stay back, keeping my distance. I see the hunger growing in his eyes and in his pants, and I try to contain the smile on my face, but I can’t because I want him…all of him.

  I unclasp my bra in the front and slowly slide the straps down each shoulder, gathering the lacy material in my hand and tossing it on the floor next to my skirt. My full breasts are on display, my nipples are tight as the cool air and the excitement of Sam's arousal hits me. I step toward Sam, who wastes no time in pulling me closer to him. He presses his lips against my stomach, lightly kissing me across my belly.

  His fingertips brush the edge of my panties, and he lets out a small groan, which causes me to clench my thighs in anticipation. His fingers pull at the delicate fabric as he edges them down my hips, pausing momentarily before sliding them all the way down my legs. I step out of them carefully, while Sam examines every inch of me with his lust filled eyes. He licks his bottom lip as his fingers trace the soft lines my panties left behind on my hips. His fingers move softly across my skin before he moves them toward my center.

  "Come here," he says, standing up. He guides me to the edge of my king-sized bed and eases me down. "Lay back," he orders me gently, and I slowly lower myself onto my back. My legs dangle over the edge until he lifts them. "Scoot back," he says, and I slide myself to the middle of the bed. My legs are spread wide, all of me
is bare, exposed to him, and I'm feeling vulnerable and nervous, but there's something about Sam that makes me feel safe.

  Sam stands over me, every muscle in his body flexing against his clothes as he watches me carefully. His head tilts to the left, taking in the sight of me, stark naked and sprawled out before him.

  "God, you're fucking beautiful," he breathes. He unfastens his belt before unbuttoning his pants and letting them fall to the floor. His deft fingers make quick work of unbuttoning his shirt, but he pauses momentarily, shutting off the bedside light. I can hear him finally removing his dress shirt, and I can see the outline of his body from the moonlight peeking in through the window. A shiver runs through my body in anticipation of Sam's touch.

  We're both quiet and exposed, shadows dancing around the room as Sam's figure moves, positioning himself between my legs at the end of the bed.

  Both of his hands rub the tops of my thighs, starting just above the knee as they work their way up my legs. My hips begin to quiver, every nerve on high-alert as his fingers trail across my skin. My center aches for his touch, and my hips buck gently as his thumbs tease my inner thighs. No man has ever had me in knots like this before.

  "I'm going to touch you, Kate. If you don't want this, you need to tell me now," he says in a husky voice as he leans in and presses his lips to my inner thigh.

  I shake my head, begging him not to stop and anxiously awaiting his next move. My entire body shudders when he drags his tongue across the sensitive skin just as he rubs a finger across my center, parting me. His fingers are gentle yet hungry as he explores me. A moan escapes me just as his thumb rubs small circles and adds the perfect amount of pressure on my clitoris, sending my body into a perfect haze of pleasure.

  "Sam," I muster as he brings me closer, and my hips gently rock in tune with the strokes his fingers make as he glides in and out of me.

  "Baby, this is just the beginning." He gently removes his fingers from me and spreads my knees wider, pressing them into the bed. "I promise that I'm going to taste every inch of this perfect body—another time, Kate. But right now, I need to be inside you."

  There isn't a muscle in my body that isn't trembling. Trembling in pleasure and anticipation. I inhale sharply at the feel of his cock pressing against my opening. With a gentle nudge, he begins to fill me. My body shakes as it adjusts to his welcome intrusion, and then I grip the comforter as he pushes himself entirely in. He groans as he completely fills me, while both of his hands tightly grip my inner thighs.

  He takes his time at first, building up his pace. My hands find his on my thighs, and he laces his fingers through mine as he continues to move in and out. My body is conflicted, a mix of pleasure and pain as I take all of him in.

  "Kate," he hisses as his breathing hitches, and his speed quickens. His head tips back, and he squeezes my fingers and thighs tighter as he steadies his pace. Unwinding his hand from mine, he begins working my clit again. My back arches, and every nerve in my body begins to tingle. He immediately notices the change in my body. Picking up his pace again, he withdraws and slams into me. That battle between soft and caring and hard and rough is waging a war on my body, a war I know I'll succumb to—which one will be the victor is yet to be seen.

  As my body spirals into ecstasy, I feel Sam’s release. Our bodies are a mess of tangled legs and sweaty skin. Sam lowers himself on top of me, chest to chest. My body is numb from pleasure. Nothing but the labored sounds of both of us trying to catch our breath fills the space around us.

  "See what you do to me?" he whispers against my ear. "I'm not even close to being done with you." He presses a gentle kiss to my cheek and pulls me closer. His hand rests on my chest, his finger drawing circles across my collarbone.

  "Hope you didn't have plans of falling asleep early tonight," he says, and I can actually hear the smile in his voice.

  "I had no expectations for tonight," I tell him as I roll to my side and face him. I let my hands cautiously explore the hard lines of his stomach, up his chest, and finally resting against his cheek. "But this," I pause as I search for the words, "this far exceeded anything I thought would happen."

  "Is that the whiskey talking?" he says with a deep laugh.

  "No," I answer honestly, and I feel his body tense for a moment before relaxing.

  He pulls me closer yet again and quietly whispers, "Good."

  Chapter Seven

  Kate

  I’m not sure what time we finally fell asleep, but when I come to I hear the light sounds of Sam's breathing next to me and I slide over to him. His warm skin presses against my cool skin, causing goose bumps to form along my arms. Even when he's asleep, I can feel the electricity between us. The chemistry is undeniable. I reach out and rest my hand on his firm chest, dragging the pads of my fingers across his hard pectoral muscle. It's there that I feel the firm ridges, the bumps of flesh that are not flush with the rest of his skin. My fingers tremble as I touch the scarring. As if he knows I've found his secret, his steady breathing suddenly stops, and I feel his entire body jerk, causing me to stop my exploration.

  "I should go," he says quietly, his voice hoarse as he tries to shrug off my touch.

  I won't let him run. I wrap my arm around his chest, holding him tightly. "Talk to me," I urge him, worried about the change in his demeanor. He told me how he was shot, he told me he was starting over—but something inside me tells me he's running, and I don't know if it's from the incident…or her. "Do you still love her?" I ask, even though I know I have no right.

  I can feel his heart beating wildly against my arm that is keeping him trapped. Part of me feels guilty for holding him here, and part of me understands the need he has to protect his story. I'm as conflicted as he is. It's his story to tell in his own time.

  I carefully withdraw my arm, releasing my hold on him, an invitation for him to leave. I can barely make out the rise and fall of his chest in the pre-dawn hours, yet I feel like I can see inside his soul. He's hurting and he's going to push himself away from me.

  He carefully sits up on the edge of my bed, his back to me as I retreat to my side of the bed. He must sense me distancing myself because he looks over his shoulder as I pull the sheet up over my naked body in an effort to hide my embarrassment for being so pushy, but also to protect myself from what I expect will be his parting words…that what happened last night was a mistake.

  "I'm sorry," I say so quietly I'm not even sure he heard me.

  "Don't be," he responds, his voice almost as low as mine. He pushes up from the bed and stands naked before me, his perfectly toned backside just visible in the dusky room. "It's just not something I want to talk about. Please just let it go."

  "Let what go? Talking about how you were injured…or her?"

  He sighs as he bends down and steps into his boxer briefs before finding his pants and shirt. He carefully finishes dressing while I silently watch every move. My heart is racing as he prepares to leave, and I have no idea what he's thinking. He stands for a moment, looking at me, and I feel my lip begin to quiver. Why, I'm not sure. Then he drops his head and lets out another long sigh before heading to the door. He pauses just inside the doorway, turning around for a brief second.

  "Please don't go." I ask him, my voice breaking. "I'm sorry for pressing you—"

  "Thank you for last night, Kate," he says softly before leaving.

  I close my eyes and feel my heart sink. I'm angry with myself for letting this progress to sleeping with each other, and I'm hurt that it will likely be a one-time thing when, for the first time in a long time, I want more. Tears slip from the corners of my eyes as I roll over onto my side and bury my face in the pillow he slept on. I can still smell the spicy hints of his cologne as I cry myself to sleep.

  * * *

  I would normally have left my house thirty minutes ago in an effort to beat some of the horrific Los Angeles morning traffic. However, this morning, I have no energy to get my ass into the office. My mind is distracted, full of thought
s, and my heart is heavy, full of emotions.

  I lean against the kitchen island and look at the remnants of last night strewn across the granite counter. Shot glasses sit next to the bottle of whiskey, and two boxes of uneaten food sit untouched, reminding me of what led up to Sam being in my bed.

  I drop a coffee pod in the instant coffee machine and push brew, staring at the thick brown liquid filling my coffee mug. Shoulders slumped, I transfer the coffee to my travel mug, grab my computer bag, and reluctantly head out the door. I'm not in the mood for work today, but I plan to bury myself in work, hoping it acts as a distraction to my wandering thoughts about Sam.

  Settling into my car, I notice Sam's car is still parked up the long drive. I take a deep breath, wondering what he's doing and what he's thinking. Shoving those thoughts aside, I take a sip of coffee and drive away.

  As I all but crawl through this shitty Los Angeles traffic, I hit Kandi's name on my phone and let the Bluetooth speakers in my car project the ringing of her phone.

  "Hey," she answers, her voice strained.

  "You okay?" I ask as I hear her shuffling around in the background.

  She snorts and lets out a sad laugh. "I'm fucking exhausted," she replies. "Peyton was throwing up at three o'clock in the morning, and I've had Elena basically attached to my tit since four. Try caring for two kids, with one permanently attached to your boob, it's awesome," she musters, sounding like she's ready to snap.

  "Need me to come over after work?" I ask before taking another drink of coffee.

  "I wish you could, but Josh will be home early tonight and I plan to take a bath—alone—and go to bed at six."

  I laugh, though I feel sorry for Kandi. "I don’t know how you do it.” In a sense, I'm envious of Kandi's life. She has a husband who adores her and a two kids—things I didn't believe I wanted until I saw what I was missing.