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Love's Deception

Page 2

by DC Renee

“Just about. See, you’re a relationship type of girl. I mean, you’re the kind of girl you bring home to meet the family, date for a year, get engaged to on a boat at sunset, marry surrounded by family and friends, and then have two kids, maybe three. We’ll say two-point-five for now.”

  “I … uh …” I didn’t know what to say, but Nolan ignored my little interruption and continued.

  “And I’m not the relationship kind of guy. I don’t date. Ever. I’m the kind of guy who will push you up against the wall the minute we’re inside the door and hike your skirt up around your waist while grinding against your hot, wet pussy as my mouth devours yours until you can’t take it anymore. And only then will I carry you to the bed, lay you down, glide my tongue along your body until I reach your slit, and taste you until you scream out my name. Then I’ll slide into you hard and fast, punishing even, until we both cry out in pleasure. And when we’re done, I’ll dismiss you and never see you again.” I’d never had a guy talk dirty to me like, especially not someone I barely knew. I’d always thought I’d hate it, like it was overdramatic and only sounded good in books, but suddenly, I wanted nothing more than for Nolan to use me as he’d just described. I imagined myself in his bed, him hovering above me as he pushed inside me, and I had to clench my thighs together.

  I was wet after a few short sentences from a man I had met once before.

  “Nolan, I—” He cut me off, and I’m glad he did because I honestly wasn’t sure what I was going to say after that. “Yes” and “please,” were looking like very strong candidates.

  “So I decided not to call,” he said quietly. “But then I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And finally, it became too much, and I thought to myself, maybe I could do a date. One date … at least to see where things go from there. What do you say?”

  “What do I say what?” I was thoroughly confused. Was he asking me out on a date? The guy who literally just claimed he didn’t date.

  “Will you make a dating man out of me, Annalise?”

  I was torn. I knew right off the bat that Nolan was either going to be the best thing that ever happened to me or the worst. And my gut was telling me it was the latter and would end in big, fat heartbreak. I should have said no and saved myself the heartache I knew would inevitably come, but my stupid mouth didn’t obey.

  “Yes,” I said, my voice shy and hesitant, but it was out there.

  “Thank fucking Christ,” he said, and I couldn’t help but giggle. “Tonight? Is tonight too soon?” How could I resist him when his eagerness reminded me of a schoolboy experiencing his first crush? I might have even blushed.

  “Sorry, Nolan. I have an early start tomorrow, so today is a no-go, but we can do tomorrow if you’d like.”

  “I do like. I’d like today more, but I like tomorrow just fine too.” I laughed. He was so charming, and I didn’t think he was even trying. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven. How’s that?”

  “That’s fine.”

  I gave him my address, and then we said goodbye. And I didn’t bother trying to stop the smile that spread on my lips and stayed there all night.

  “WHY IS A girl like you single?” he asked as we waited for the appetizers.

  Nolan had picked me up at two minutes to seven. I’d secretly fantasized that he’d come early, eager to start our date, but then waited so he wouldn’t seem desperate. I clearly had an active imagination, especially when I opened the door to see him standing there in a deep green button-down that was tight in the arms and on the chest, telling me just what kind of body was underneath. My eyes traveled appreciatively down his body to see his long, thick legs in a pair of black jeans. I couldn’t help but picture us in the positions he’d vocalized the day before.

  I felt my cheeks redden as I snapped out of my little reverie and finally stared up into his face, a knowing smile plastered on his lips.

  “You look beautiful,” he said after a beat, and I felt my cheeks flush once again.

  “Not so bad yourself,” I responded, but he already knew that. “Where to?” I asked as I stepped out. He held out his arm, and I linked mine through his. It made me feel like I was in a classic movie with a handsome gentleman.

  “I hope you like Italian,” he said as he led me toward his car.

  “I’m allergic,” I said, which had him whipping his head around toward me faster than I could imagine possible. The horrified look on his face had me holding in my laughter.

  “Shit,” he cursed silently. “I clearly suck at this dating thing,” he told me. “I probably should have checked with you first.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from grinning wide. “I’m just messing with you. I love Italian.”

  “Jesus, Annalise,” he responded as he barked out a laugh. “Beautiful and funny. How’d I get so lucky?”

  Then he opened my car door and waited for me to get in before closing it. For a guy who said he never dated, he’d gotten it down much better than most men in just the first few minutes.

  “Hey, you never told me why your day was so crappy the other night,” I said after a minute of driving in silence.

  “Working with my family has its perks,” he answered. “But it also has its downfalls. It’s just me and my dad, so everyone else thinks they have to take care of me. They forget I’m a grown man sometimes and don’t always take my suggestions to heart.”

  “Although I’m sure that’s annoying, at least they do it because they care. What about your mom?”

  “She died when I was eight.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

  “It’s okay,” he told me. “I still miss her, but it was a long time ago.” We grew silent, and I regretted asking about his mom and ruining the mood.

  “And what about you?” he asked, breaking the silence. “Why was your day so shitty?”

  I relayed my disaster of a day, and he laughed in response. “Sounds like you really needed that drink that night.”

  “I sure did, but this annoying guy wouldn’t leave me alone,” I responded with a smirk.

  “Annoying, huh? Thank goodness I showed up when I did then and scared him away.”

  Smiling in return, I found I enjoyed our flirtatious banter. We pulled up to the restaurant just moments after, and he guided me in, pulling out my chair for me when we got to our table. We took a few minutes to order our food, and that was when he hit me with the question as to why I was still single.

  “It’s easier being single than being in a relationship,” I told him.

  “How so?”

  “There are so many expectations when you start dating someone. He has to check off some silent boxes, I have to check some off too, and some boxes will always be left unchecked. Then you have to decide if the ones checked off are good enough. But you’re not the only one deciding this. The other party is too. Add in school, work, and life, and it just gets so complicated.”

  “Sounds like maybe I was doing the right thing by not dating,” he said with a teasing smile.

  “Then what are you doing here with me?” I countered, my own teasing smile letting him know his words didn’t offend me.

  His smile slowly disappeared as he figured out the right words to tell me, or maybe even which words to tell me. I could practically see him processing just how much to share with me, and when he opened his mouth, his eyes a bit sad, I knew he’d decided I was worth the truth.

  “When my mother died, my father broke down. Don’t get me wrong, he didn’t check out on me or anything. He’s been the best father he could be, but the cloud of sadness, no, anguish really, never left him. He told me loving my mom was worth it, but the pain of losing her wasn’t. I don’t even know if he remembers telling me this, but after her funeral, he told me never to love someone. He’s never said it to me since, so maybe it was the grief talking, or maybe he meant the words, but they stuck with me, nonetheless. If you don’t get close, you can’t love, right? So that’s what I did. I didn’t let myself get close.

  “But you �
�� I told myself not to go over to your table, but my feet led me there anyway. I told myself not to call you, but after a few days, my fingers itched to dial your number. I told myself to have a simple, harmless conversation, but I couldn’t ask you out fast enough. I told myself to stand you up, but I counted down the minutes until I could see you. And all this after knowing you for three hours. I’m telling myself even right now not to like you, not to want you, but I’m picturing how it would feel to hold you against me, your chest pressed against mine, your skin flushed from our exertions after I take you back to my place after dinner. And I’m telling myself not to fall for you, but I already know that’s where we’re headed.”

  His words were powerful, truthful, and overwhelming. If he were anyone else, declaring a future with me ten minutes into our first date, I’d go running for the hills, thinking the guy was a creep. But the sincerity in Nolan’s voice and the tinge of sadness and regret radiating from him had me wanting to comfort him and tell him it was all right, that fate was fate no matter what.

  My hand found his, and I gently gave it a little squeeze.

  I didn’t say anything, but I didn’t need to. He just stared into my eyes, reading all the thoughts I couldn’t put into words.

  I’m sorry about your mom.

  I’m sorry about your dad.

  Don’t fear the depth of their love, embrace it.

  I’m not running away, even if I should.

  I’m still here, waiting beside you, to see where this goes … because …

  Because there’s something about you too.

  He nodded as though he’d heard my silent words just as the waiter brought over our appetizers, and just like that, we were back to our banter. The deep moment was gone but not eviscerated from our minds, merely pushed back so we could learn more about each other.

  We spent the rest of the evening getting to know each other, laughing, joking, and even teasing.

  And when the evening came to a close, despite his words, Nolan walked me to my door. I was wondering if something about the evening had changed his mind and whether this was actually goodbye. He must have read my doubts in my expression.

  “Do not for a moment doubt just how much I want you. I want nothing more than to taste you and feel you wrapped around my cock as I move inside you, but I want you to know that what I said before was real. I want you to understand that you’re the exception to the rule. I’m not going to fuck you and dump you. So, for tonight, and just tonight,” he emphasized, and I actually giggled, “I’m going to kiss you good night and walk away. But make no mistake, you’re mine tomorrow, and I’m not walking away then.” And then he leaned in and captured my lips in a searing kiss, his lips bruising mine as his tongue made its way toward mine. I gasped, which only opened my lips more. He kissed like I imagined he had sex—all-consuming and giving and taking in equal parts. I grew wet as I kissed him back, mentally counting down the minutes until the next day so I could see him again.

  He pulled away but leaned his forehead against mine, his breathing ragged as though he’d just run a marathon.

  “Lise,” he whispered, his very own nickname, and I liked the way it sounded on his lips. I’d been called Ann, Anna, or Annalise, but no one had ever called me Lise. “If I don’t go now, I’m not going at all.” I chuckled even though I didn’t want him to go.

  I’d read about insta-love too many times to count, and it was fun but farfetched. This felt a lot like it, but I knew the difference between insta-love and insta-lust. And even if there was something special about Nolan—from the way he filled the space to the way his mouth formed the words he spoke, to the way he commanded attention, and even to the way he made me feel utterly and completely beautiful—this wasn’t love … but if he kept it up, it would turn into that.

  “Go,” I told him quietly with a small chuckle. “Go and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He nodded and then gave me a quick peck and waited until I walked inside before he left.

  Nolan might not think he was the dating kind, but he certainly was. And apparently, he was all mine.

  “I PURPOSELY CAME home late last night,” Stephanie said as we got ready to go to class the next day. “Unless he was a one-minute man and then hightailed it out of here, it seems like I could have just waited patiently at home to find out all the details instead of giving you the privacy you apparently didn’t need.”

  “I don’t sleep with guys on the first date,” I said, mock offended. I totally would have slept with Nolan on the first date.

  “When was the last time you had sex? Oh wait, a year ago with that guy from your writing class. And what did you say about him again? Something along the lines of a ‘waste of a perfectly good condom.’ Your lady bits are going to dry out if they don’t get some action soon.”

  “He was a waste of a perfectly good condom,” I responded with a laugh. We’d dated for a month, and he was sweet and nice. When we finally took the next step, it wasn’t so much that he was bad in bed as it was that we lacked chemistry. It also didn’t help that he tried to talk dirty, but it was obvious he did that because he’d heard somewhere that women liked it. The words sounded so odd from his mouth that I actually had to cover a laugh with a fake moan to keep from embarrassing him. “Nolan was a perfect gentleman, but I have a feeling my lady bits will be getting some action tonight, thank you very much.”

  Stephanie squealed in response. “Goodie!” she said as she literally jumped up and down, and I giggled at her antics. “I will want very, very graphic details so I can live vicariously through you. That man … mmm … did you check out his ass? I mean, heeellooo, quarter meet the bum you’re going to bounce off.” I laughed again. She was my best friend for a reason. Where I was—for the most part—reserved, she was not. “But meanwhile, tell me about last night.”

  And so, I did, in great detail … because that was what girls did. They shared, and they overshared.

  “Swoon,” Stephanie said out loud after I relayed his words at the door. “Let me repeat, swoon,” she said again, and this time, she put a hand to her chest. I threw a shirt at her. “Love you too,” she told me as she caught the shirt. “What time is he picking you up? Where are you going? What are you wearing? Oh shit, what lingerie are you wearing?”

  I suddenly began to panic. This was new for me and absolutely unexpected. I had spent the entire night envisioning what it would be like to sleep with Nolan, and that hadn’t ever happened to me. I wasn’t a virgin by any means, and I’d had a few casual flings—as long as they weren’t a “pump and dump” situation—but I was guessing I was an amateur compared to Nolan.

  Stephanie must have seen the change in my emotions because she stood and grabbed my arms. “Look at me,” she demanded. “He’s halfway in love with you already, which totally makes me jealous, by the way,” she said to lighten the mood a bit. “You could probably show up wearing a potato sack, and he’d still want to screw you six ways to Sunday. Don’t freak out. I’ll be home after class, and we’ll make you up together so he can take you apart,” she said with a wink. And just like that, I was much calmer.

  He texted me about an hour later while I was in class to tell me he was picking me up at seven once again, but this time, he told me to pack an overnight bag. I stopped hearing the professor after that text, and I couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the day. I was even distracted at work.

  Once I came home, it was game on. Stephanie was like my own personal stylist, and she worked wonders. She picked out the perfect dress, a navy-blue wrap around that hugged my waist with the sexy bra and panty set to go underneath, a pale blue lace set to complement the navy blue dress while still making a statement. Then she worked on my hair and makeup, making me look great without trying too hard.

  “Where were you yesterday when I needed you for my first date?” I asked.

  “Working, doll,” she answered as if I didn’t know that. “Besides, this is the more important date.”

  I felt butterflies a
t her response. She was right. If things went according to our unspoken, or I guess semi-spoken, plans, I’d be sleeping with a guy I barely knew … except it didn’t feel like I barely knew him. I’d felt so comfortable with him, so at ease. He was charming without having to try, easygoing without being a pushover, and he looked at me like I was a rare treat. It gave me confidence I didn’t know I had and comfort I didn’t know I needed.

  He picked me up at exactly seven.

  “My dad snapped at me today,” he told me as we drove in his car. To where, I wasn’t sure.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because I kept thinking about you. I couldn’t stop, and I couldn’t think of anything else. So when my dad asked me the same question for the third time, he was less than thrilled.”

  I laughed nervously but also felt empowered at his admission. “If it makes you feel any better, I thought about you a lot today too.”

  The smile he granted me in return was worth my confession. “And what exactly did you think about?” he asked.

  “Nothing in particular,” I told him. “Just how much I enjoyed last night, and how I couldn’t wait until tonight.” I didn’t think it was possible, but his smile grew even wider.

  “I’m cooking you dinner at my place,” he told me.

  “Presumptuous much?” I asked, teasingly.

  “Because I’m cooking you dinner at my place? Nah. Presumptuous was me telling you to bring an overnight bag, but it looks like you obliged,” he said as he nodded toward my feet where said overnight bag lay.

  “Maybe I have my ax in there. You know, because I’m secretly an ax murderer.”

  “As long as I get a taste of your body first, I think I could die a happy man, ax murderer and all.” I laughed lightly, but I had a feeling he was at least partially serious. “Here we are,” he said a moment later as we pulled up to a charming one-story home in what I knew was a quiet neighborhood.

  “Let me give you a quick tour, and then you can tell me all about your day while I finish dinner.” He showed me his modest but beautiful home. Three bedrooms, one was the master, one was the office, and one was a guest bedroom. Three bathrooms, a dining room, a living room, and the kitchen. Everything was clean and cozy, and there were a few pictures scattered around. I didn’t get to look too closely at them, but I vowed to take a better look later.

 

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