Kiss Me with Lies (Twin Lies Duet Book 1)

by S. M. Soto

  “I haven’t stopped thinking about fucking this pussy with my tongue since last night.” He caresses my lips with reverence and continues to stare at my pussy with a hunger I feel tugging deep in my gut. It’s pulling at my core, and I’m dying to feel his mouth on me again.

  He doesn’t disappoint.

  Baz licks with the flat of his tongue straight up my center, and I slam my head back against the glass and moan around the material in my mouth. My breath catches, and my hips arch forward toward his skilled tongue. Baz eats me like a man starved. His tongue soothes and spears; he laves and sucks. It’s like a split personality of sexuality and susceptibility inside me.

  I buck against the glass. My throaty whimpers are hardly muffled by my underwear, and my heart feels as if it’s trying to burst out of my chest. Frissons of electricity fire in my veins as he sucks on my clit. He flutters his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves and slides his fingers through my folds, dipping the tip into the wetness sliding down the underside of my ass and along my thigh.

  When he slips his fingers inside me, my hands slide into his perfect fucking hair, and my hips grind all over his face as I chase the orgasm building inside me. My core clenches, my nipples are throbbing, and my channel gapes, begging for more. When he adds a third finger and sucks my clit into his mouth as if it’s a damn piece of candy, I go off like a bottle rocket. My garbled moan echoes around us as he licks my pussy clean of my arousal.

  I’m still trying to blink past the kaleidoscope of colors stealing my vision when he pushes to his feet and swoops down, yanking the panties from my mouth and taking my lips with his. He slides his tongue over mine, warring with me, so I can taste myself on him. It has me clasping his shoulders and clinging to him for another orgasm.

  Our eyes meet in an intense, lust-filled moment, and I realize I’ve never noticed the flecks of green in his eyes. The green almost threatens to consume the blue.

  Slowly, he places his thumb on my chin, nudging my jaw open. His lips part, his eyes dialting as he stuffs my panties back inside my mouth.

  “Turn around,” he growls, not even waiting for me to oblige. He spins me so my stomach is to the glass, and I’m facing the dance floor below. He slides the top of my dress down my body to expose my tits. He presses me up against the glass and stares at our reflection. I look sex crazed. My full breasts are squished against the cool window, my hair is wild, and my cheeks are flushed from my orgasm. And Baz looks dark and utterly delectable. His tongue juts out, wetting his plump lower lip, and I almost dissolve into a puddle.

  Watching our reflections, I see Baz trail his fingers up and down my spine, around my shoulders, settling on the tops of my breasts all while he frees himself from his slacks.

  “Imagine all of them down there looking up at you,” he bends down near my ear to whisper. One of his fingers flicks my nipple, and I choke, my core clenching sharply with the sensation. “Just imagine them seeing your gorgeous tits pressed up against the glass,” he breathes seductively as he palms my tit, barely fitting it in his hand. He rolls my nipple. Pinching and soothing. Rough and soft. It’s driving me insane. “Imagine them watching you moan my name while I fuck you. They’re going to wish it was them buried so deep inside this cunt they can’t even see straight.”

  “Baz.” My muffled beg echoes around us as I press my ass against his erection prodding my backside.

  As if his name falling from my lips was all the confirmation he needed, Baz continues to roughly palm my breast while the other hand settles on my hip as he aligns himself. He doesn’t wait any longer. He slides into me with no resistance and fucks me mercilessly against the glass. His strokes are long and hard. He pulls almost all the way out before he buries himself back inside me, pounding me into the glass. My hipbones smack against the cool, hard surface, and my breaths fog up the glass, and still, with my underwear muffling my words, I beg him not to stop.

  Baz winds his fist in my hair and yanks my head back, his balls slapping against my backside with each thrust. He picks up my leg and extends it to the side, hitting a new angle that has me choking on my breaths. He’s driving so deep inside me, he’s hitting a spot that’s making my vision blur.

  “Look at how pretty your cunt looks like this. Exposed for everyone to see. My cock driving inside you. You like that, don’t you, dirty girl?”

  I can’t answer. All I can do is moan my approval. And I do like it. Much more than I should.

  Our reflection looks hot. My eyes are riveted to my exposed pussy and his cock driving in and out of me with a rhythm that’s driving me insane. He slides his hand down from my breast and plays with my clit, pulling away from the glass just enough to watch my tits sway with each of his thrusts.

  “I’m c-coming,” I groan around the panties.

  His thrusts quicken. “Milk it, dirty girl. Milk my fucking cock with your cunt.”

  I cry out just as he yanks me away from the glass and pushes my back down, bending me

  over.

  “Touch your toes.”

  I do as he says, and without warning, he slams into me, making me scream around my

  panties. I feel him everywhere. This position is so deep, I’m certain I won’t be able to last much longer.

  My legs immediately give out, and my knees slam onto the floor, leaving me on all fours. Baz doesn’t miss a single beat. He adjusts himself, burying his hand back in my hair as he continues to fuck me.

  “You like it when I fuck you like this, don’t you, dirty girl? Listen to that. Listen to the way your pussy is slurping up my cock.”

  My walls spasm and clench around him as I do. It sounds like a fucking porno in here.

  He pounds out his release, wringing orgasm after orgasm out of me until I’m feeling weightless. My vision suddenly goes black, and bright halos fill the darkened depths as I slip over the edge, coming with a guttural groan that doesn’t even sound like it would fall from my lips.

  “Fuck, that’s hot,” a voice says from a few feet away. Even in my post-orgasmic bliss, my body tenses, and when I open my eyes, the color drains from my face. There, groping his cock on the outside of his jeans, is Zach Covington, who apparently just watched Baz fuck me. I scramble away from Baz and push to my feet, hurriedly righting my dress as I go. Every time I inhale, it feels like razor blades are slicing into me.

  I can’t believe I let this happen.

  What am I doing? What the hell am I doing?

  Embarrassment and mortification claw at my skin as I yank my underwear out of my mouth and hide them in my fist. To make matters worse, I feel warmth gliding down my thighs, and when I look down, shame colors my skin, weighing down on my sternum, making it impossible to breathe. I glance up, and both Baz and Zach are staring down at Baz’s cum rolling down my legs.

  Avoiding eye contact, I jerk away from Baz and head toward the door, needing an escape. I need to regroup and get my head back on straight.

  Why does sex with Baz always make me forget what I’m doing? Why does he make me forget what I’m here to do in the first place?

  In my haste to flee, I yank the door open and run, but I don’t get far. I skid to an abrupt halt in the dimly lit hall, trying to figure out where to go. What to do.

  Kat and Vera are still in there. I can’t just leave them, but I can’t go back in there, not after that.

  Two enemies seeing me at my most vulnerable, both of them seeing my most intimate parts—Madison is probably rolling in her grave.

  I start walking again, having made up my mind. I figure I’ll message the girls and tell them I’ve left. But before I get far, a warm iron grip on my wrist spins me around, halting my escape.

  “Mackenzie, wait.”

  I yank my wrist out of Baz’s hold. “My name is Scarlett!” I yell, and his eyes narrow.

  “Fine, Scarlett,” he grinds out. “I didn’t know he was watching. I swear.”

  My heart squeezes, and an iciness settles into my chest, tormenting me. “Is this what you do
? You share all your women? You watch each other fuck their sloppy seconds? It’s disgusting.”

  His mouth thins into a grim line. “No, it’s not what I do. That’s what they do.” He rakes a frustrated hand through his hair. “I got carried away with you. I should’ve never put you in that position or let that happen.”

  “And why should I believe anything you say?” I counter. My chest rises and falls sharply as I work to control my anger.

  He closes in on me, sliding his hand around my waist and pressing the firm planes of his body against mine. “For the same reasons I’m deciding to believe you, Scarlett.” He takes another dig at my name.

  “Well, I need to leav—” I start, ready to ghost him and never look back, at least until I have a well-thought-out plan.

  “We’re not done here, dirty girl. Not even fucking close.” To prove his point, he swoops down and claims my mouth. The kiss is possessive, all-consuming, and God help me, I try to fight it, but I relent, falling into the kiss. Falling into him.

  “Come back to my place with me. Where no one else will see you but me,” he says over my lips, his hold on me restricting. He isn’t taking no for an answer. And the saddest part? I don’t want to say no. I can’t say no when it comes to Baz.

  “My friends …”

  He blows out a sigh and steps back to look down at me. He jerks his head over his shoulder. “Come on.”

  We head back toward the door, and I stop, acutely remembering why I can’t go back in there.

  “I’ll wait out here.”

  He looks down at me and glowers. “I’m not leaving you out here on your own. Let’s go.” His palm smacks my ass, the sting making me yelp.

  Back inside, the den is empty but definitely not silent. It sounds like a damn orgy in here. I guess I was too caught up in Baz earlier to notice it. Multiple sets of groans and moans are coming from the back rooms. We pause just over the threshold, and Baz turns to me with raised brows. There’s a hint of amusement on his face.

  “Still want to go in there and check on them?”

  I open my mouth to say yes. Just because they’re moaning doesn’t necessarily mean they’re having a good time, does it?

  “I—”

  Baz chuckles. “Give me a sec.”

  He strides down the hall, disappearing out of my line of sight. I hear the distinctive knocking on two separate doors and the mumbled tone of voices. Within seconds, he’s at my side, taking my hand in his and pulling me out of the door after him.

  Just as we’re about to exit, we hear a door open, followed by heavy footfalls. Trent appears, glaring daggers at Sebastian. His gaze drifts to mine for a beat, and his upper lip curls.

  “That’s against the rules.”

  The rules? What rules?

  What the hell are they talking about?

  Baz takes a protective step in front of me, blocking me from Trent’s line of sight. “Fuck the rules. She’s not a part of this. Find someone else. Anyone else. She’s mine.”

  My breath catches at his words, and my core spasms. Before Trent can argue or bother to get another word in, Baz is already guiding me out the door.

  While we head down the hall, I shoot texts to Kat and Vera, begging them to let me know they’re still alive and to call me once they’re done sexing it up or, at the very least, once they’re safely out of here.

  Once we make our way through the crowded club, we leave using the back entrance, and I fully see why. There are tons of flashing lights and shouts coming from all directions, and all of it is aimed at us. It takes my brain much longer than it should to play catch-up, and once I do, I realize the paparazzi are snapping pictures. The oddness of it all has me frozen in place. It isn’t until Baz’s grip on me tightens as he weaves through the people snapping photos and yelling out questions that I’m brought back to the present.

  When we’re a safe distance away, he leans into me, angling his head so his mouth is at my ear. “If you’re uncomfortable being photographed, just keep your head down. We’re almost to the car.”

  I pull back slightly to look up at him, and idly, I can’t help but wonder what the hell I’ve gotten myself into. Paparazzi? I knew the guys were eligible bachelors, but I had no clue it was to this extent. Just then, someone snaps a photo of us, the flash damn near blinding me.

  Thankfully, the valet pulls up, and the car that idles at the curb has my eyes doubling in size. Baz helps me inside, and the whole time, I have to try to keep my jaw from hitting the floor.

  “Wow,” I breathe as I glance around, taking it all in. “You really are a freaking billionaire, aren’t you?”

  Baz pauses and glances at me, wearing an unfamiliar expression on his face.

  “Yeah,” he says as he takes off.

  I opt to gaze out the window, looking at the Hollywood Hills during the silent ride. When we pull through a huge wrought-iron gate and drive down a winding road, I’m not even surprised to find a lone property sprawled along the top of the hill. The mansion is incredible. I mean, I’ve seen some great properties—perks of being friends with two rich socialites—but this … this is different.

  The building before me is as sleek and modern as it gets. Clean lines, floor-to-ceiling windows, the works.

  The inside is just as clean and immaculate with a masculine feel throughout the space. Dark mahogany, white, black, and other colors keep the vibe simple and manly. It’s a smart home, so every appliance, every light, every little thing you can think of either works based on his phone or is voice activated. Baz proceeds to show off the main points of the house, which are probably his favorite rooms—his office, his gym, and his bedroom, of course.

  We eventually settle in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar. He gathers glasses for us while I’m still processing and trying to wrap my head around all of it.

  “Want anything to drink?”

  “Whatever you have is fine.”

  I’m instantly nervous, but I can’t explain why. I’ve been alone with him already, felt him inside me numerous times; yet, I’m sitting here, my heel tapping the marble floor incessantly from my nerves.

  I know I should use this time to get close to him. I should ask questions and start digging into his past and the past of the other Savages, but I just … I don’t want to mess this up.

  Baz pops a bottle of wine, pouring some for me, but opting to drink the amber liquid. He leans against the counter and takes sips from his tumbler as his gaze remains glued to mine. Watching me.

  It’s unnerving.

  “What?”

  “Just trying to figure you out,” he says, cocking his head to the side.

  “What’s there to figure out?”

  “A lot,” he replies vaguely.

  Silence descends, and for once, it’s an uncomfortable silence, which is not something that’s ever happened with us.

  I clear my throat. “Back at the club … on the top floor … what was he talking about? What rules?”

  Baz shifts his gaze elsewhere and takes a long pull from his drink before answering. “It’s complicated.”

  I raise a brow. “Care to elaborate?”

  “Not really. I have more … pressing issues.”

  My heart lurches.

  Issues?

  “Like?”

  He scratches his neck with the tumbler still in his hand. “Like why you’ve lied about your name. Why you agreed to go upstairs back at the club yet looked completely disgusted with the guys when I walked in.”

  Baz pushes off the counter, his eyes intently focused on me as he closes the distance between us. I snap my teeth together, my heart pounding erratically against my rib cage.

  “Not just anyone gets invited up there by the guys, and even if they do get invited, they know exactly what they’re going up there for.” He pauses for a few seconds, letting that sink in for me. With the hand that’s holding his liquor, he rubs the pad of his thumb across his bottom lip again as he thinks. I realize now it’s habitual to rub his lip
while he thinks about something. “I guess what I’m trying to figure out is, why you didn’t seem to have the slightest clue of what would happen up there. Or maybe you did. Maybe you went up there searching for something.”

  My stomach tightens in knots when his words register. He can’t know, can he? There’s no way. I need to play this off. For all he knows, I went up there looking for sex, and even though that’s not the truth and may make me look like a whore, I’ll take it.

  “Am I supposed to automatically know what goes on up there?”

  “Not per se.” He takes another healthy swig. “I’m just trying to figure out how much of tonight was a coincidence and how much … wasn’t.”

  The declaration almost has me falling off the stool. I school my features and inhale a sharp breath, trying like hell to keep my cool. He thinks after what happened between us last night, I orchestrated this whole thing? A part of me wants to shout that I was there to find out which one of them murdered my sister, but if I do that now, I’ll never have the answers I need. I need Baz to trust me. And right now, he doesn’t trust me.

  Hell, I’m not even sure at this point if he likes me.

  “Kat and Vera are party girls. Down to their core. That’s why we came here. They read about the club opening and suggested we come. As you already know, Kat set me up with a room at the Kings Resort, and when I met you last night … I had no idea who you were. I had no idea you owned any part of that club we’d eventually be going to. If that’s what you’re implying.”

  He’s silent for a while. Long enough that he’s able to drain his tumbler and round the breakfast bar. He stops before me, mere inches away, crowding my space. His palms settle on my knees, and as though we’re both drawn to the point of contact, we both glance down. His tan skin against mine is such a contrast. His hands are like paws on my skin, larger than life, with protruding veins that travel up his wrists into his forearms. That ever-present spark of electricity is there, flaring like a livewire at his proximity. His hands on mine has my gut tugging with arousal.