Love's Deception

by DC Renee

  I covered my emotions as best as I could, and I put a hand on his arm, trying to give him some comfort while portraying the sincerity of my words.

  “I love Nolan, I truly do. I’m not leaving him. If things get rough, we’ll work through them. If things are great, we’ll celebrate them. He’s my ‘one,’ and I plan to live a long and happy life with him. You have nothing to worry about.”

  He stared at me for what seemed like a long time but was probably only a few seconds before he nodded.

  He smiled after a moment and pulled me into a hug. “Welcome to the family, Annalise.”

  “Thank you,” I responded, smiling against his shirt.

  We pulled away and rejoined the rest of the party.

  His words hung loosely in the air, but only because I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, knowing this couldn’t be an easy time. Yet, at the same time, I felt happy because I had a feeling his welcome held a lot more depth, a lot more sentimentality, and a lot more meaning than if someone else had said it. This time tomorrow, I would truly be a part of his family. And with Nolan by my side, I couldn’t wait.

  YOU KNOW WHAT you got when you married the perfect man? The perfect wedding and the perfect honeymoon. That was not to say things went off without a hitch. I had been warned and warned and warned that there had never been a wedding in the history of weddings that went perfectly.

  All the warnings were right. There were so many details that didn’t work out the way I’d planned. I repeat, so many, but I didn’t care. You know why? Because the minute I saw Nolan looking dashing in his tux tailormade for him, staring at me like he couldn’t believe his eyes, like he just walked into a dream and he didn’t want to wake up, like I was everything he wanted and more, like his world just finally became amazing—you get the point—was all I needed in my life.

  Suddenly, all the little problems with the wedding and the details no one would care about but me didn’t matter. It was just Nolan and me—just our love and nothing else.

  “I don’t have words,” he said when he laid his eyes on me.

  I’d checked in to the hotel room we’d be staying in that night earlier so the girls and I could get ready there. Nolan had gotten ready at home, and then he and his groomsmen met us at the hotel. He walked up to the door, knocked, and I’d opened it. And I’d clearly rendered him speechless. He’d taken a good two or three minutes to just stare, open-mouthed at me, his eyes roaming up and down.

  “You look quite handsome,” I told him after he had no words for me.

  “Do I also look like an insanely happy love-sick fool? Because that’s what I am. I’m literally the luckiest man because in a few hours, you’re going to be my wife.”

  Just like that, the wedding was just a formality.

  Aside from all the hiccups I couldn’t care less about, the rest of the wedding was great.

  When everyone left, Nolan and I made our way to the hotel room. He took his time sliding each string out from its holder down my back until my dress had no choice but to fall slowly down, exposing my bare back and my white lace panties. I’d had no room for a bra.

  “If I’d known this was waiting for me underneath, I think we would have left a long time ago,” he told me.

  “And what about our guests?” I asked.

  “Fuck them.”

  “I’d rather you fuck me.”

  “Oh, Lise. I’m going to fuck you all right, but first, I’m going to make love to my wife.” He smiled as he said wife, and so did I.

  And as tired and drained as we were, we made love, and then we went hard, rough, and fast, just as Nolan promised.

  We spent the next day with family and friends who had come in from out of town for the wedding, thanking them for their travels. We then packed and got ready for our honeymoon, which we hadn’t had a chance to do before the wedding.

  “You really don’t have much to pack,” Nolan said.

  “How do you figure?”

  “Well, I don’t plan to leave the room,” he said with a wink. “No clothes necessary.”

  I threw a shirt at him and laughed. I didn’t listen to him and packed way too much, but you never knew what activities we’d end up doing.

  We flew first class and spent a week in Turks and Caicos at an all-inclusive adults-only resort.

  “I told you I don’t plan to leave the room,” Nolan said once again. “Hence why we needed all-inclusive. We have everything we need right at our fingertips.”

  We did end up spending a lot of time in the room, but we also found time to enjoy the white sand beaches with water so clear you could see all the way to the bottom, as well as the enormous and gorgeous pool. We managed to fit in some activities too, like snorkeling, jet skiing, and an ocean boat tour. Of course, Nolan being Nolan, he surprised me one night with a private dinner for two on the beach at sunset.

  It was absolutely magical, and I didn’t want to leave. I felt like we were in a fantasy land filled with happiness and joy. I knew once the honeymoon was over, we’d have to go back home and back to the real world. But this time, the real world was different because I was a married woman. It was a new reality, a new family, a new type of life. And I just hoped that things wouldn’t change, but I knew deep down, they would … the question would be whether things changed for the better or for the worse.

  “WHAT THE HELL?” I asked out loud to the empty room. I’d practically lived at Nolan’s house since we’d first started dating, I’d actually lived there since shortly before the wedding, but I hadn’t actually taken the time to truly explore my new home.

  When you buy a new place, it’s empty. There are no hidden surprises; no things stashed in closets, and no rooms you haven’t really checked out. When you move into a place that was well lived in, there were bound to be things that had collected over the years. I bet if I went through my old bedroom in my parents’ home, I’d find love letters from junior high and pictures of guys I dated for all of two weeks in high school. If I really looked hard, I’d probably find wrappers stuck to the bottom of drawers and knickknacks randomly thrown in shoe boxes.

  I was sure Nolan had the same thing in his home, and it wasn’t like I cared about the things taking up space in the guest bedrooms. I mean, one day, I hoped to have kids occupying those rooms, and then we’d have to clean things. But until then, everything was fine.

  Except I was trying to find some room in the guest closet for a couple of things I’d brought over that weren’t everyday items. I’d never had a reason to open the guest closet door before, and even if I had, I wouldn’t have really noticed the box on the shelf. It sort of reminded me of a toolbox, which was what I originally thought it was. As a result, I was going to take it to the garage where the rest of Nolan’s tools were. You know, to make room for my stuff.

  I opened it just to make sure, and that was when my jaw hit the floor.

  I wasn’t an anti-gun person, per se. I honestly didn’t care one way or another. If you wanted to own a gun, and you were sane, go for it. It only became a problem if you were not all there because that led to unnecessary gun violence.

  If Nolan felt the need to own a gun, I wouldn’t have minded. But apparently, he felt he needed to own … three, four, five, six, seven guns, I counted in my head.

  Not knowing he owned a gun in the first place was odd. You’d think that was the sort of thing he’d share with his wife, the woman he shared a home with. “Oh, hey, honey, if you ever need to protect yourself, there’s a gun in the box on the shelf in the guest closet,” at the very least.

  But seven? What was he planning on doing with seven guns? He didn’t even have enough hands to handle them all. Was he a gun enthusiast, and I didn’t even know it? Did I even know my husband?

  “What the hell?” I asked aloud again to the empty room before I got my wits about me and decided to ask the source directly. “Nolan!” I called out his name, and it was just a minute before he found me in the room with an open box full of guns on the guest bed.r />
  He looked at the box, then he looked at me, then he looked at the box once more before his gaze settled permanently on me, conveying no emotion on his face. I was pretty sure that was more unsettling than if he’d shown any other emotion.

  “Yeah?” he asked as if he didn’t know the question already.

  “What the hell is all this?” I asked. “Why didn’t I know you owned a gun, let alone seven guns?”

  “Ten actually,” he answered with a light shrug.

  “Ten?” I asked with a screech.

  “The other three are in my office.”

  “What the hell do you need ten guns for, and again, why the hell didn’t I know about this? I’m pretty sure it’s a big deal to live in a home with ten guns.”

  “Right to bear arms,” he answered with a teasing smirk. It would have been cute if I hadn’t been so alarmed.

  “Right to bear arms, not arsenal,” I tossed back.

  He chuckled, his head tipping back as he laughed. It helped lighten the mood, and I went from thinking my new husband was either a closet serial killer or secretly worked for the FBI to maybe he just liked guns. Apparently, the latter was right.

  “My dad liked to hunt,” he told me. “I didn’t much care for that, truthfully, but I liked the bonding time. I think he figured that out, so we started going to a gun range instead. I liked spending that time with my dad, and I liked the power I felt knowing I could wield a gun if I needed to. Next thing you know, I own my own, and then another, and suddenly, it’s ten. I go to the gun range sometimes, though I haven’t been in a while. But if you’re up for it, I’ll take you one of these days and teach you how to shoot a gun. Come to think of it,” he said more to himself, “that’s probably not a bad idea. You need to know how to protect yourself just in case.”

  I wasn’t sure I was comfortable knowing ten guns were stashed around my home, but I guess I understood his reasoning. It seemed plausible. “Just in case of what?” I asked.

  “In this day and age, you can never be too careful,” he answered.

  “How come I didn’t know about this?” I asked him.

  He didn’t answer right away as though contemplating the right answer. “I’m honestly not sure. Like I said, I haven’t been to the gun range in a while, and it never really came up. It wasn’t something I ever thought to bring up. I guess I should have warned you instead of you finding guns like this.”

  His tone was earnest, his eyes seemed sincere, so I let it go.

  “I’m not sure I’d be any good at firing a gun,” I admitted.

  “I was horrible my first time,” he told me.

  “Yeah, right. You were probably boy genius, getting a bull’s-eye each time. Is that even the right thing to say?” I asked with a chuckle, trying to defuse the heavy mood that had settled over us at my unspoken accusations.

  He laughed and walked over to me, wrapping me in his arms and kissing me sweetly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the guns,” he said as if he read my still hesitant mind. “I honestly just didn’t think about it. But I promise to take you to a gun range soon. It’ll help ease whatever fears you’re feeling. You’ll see the allure and the rush you get firing a gun, and soon you’ll want a whole arsenal of your own,” he added with a teasing smile.

  “I’d like that,” I admitted before I kissed him, happy for his patience with me.

  He ended up taking me to a gun range a week later, and I did feel the allure and rush he promised I would. I understood just why he’d owned so many guns. I fired a few different ones, and each one felt different, had a different impact. He liked to switch it up, and I couldn’t blame him for that.

  But even still, I couldn’t help but wonder what else I didn’t know about my husband. What other secrets I might uncover. What other things he hid. I wondered just how well I knew the man I married.

  “OLD HABITS,” NOLAN answered with a shrug.

  It was funny the things you noticed when you shared a home with someone. Or maybe it was because when we were dating, I focused solely on our relationship, and when we were engaged, I focused on the wedding. And now that we were married, things had calmed down and I actually saw the details I missed before.

  I mean I saw that Nolan put the toilet paper on backward when I had first started spending time at his place, but it wasn’t something I noticed. Yes, there was a difference. Seeing something and having it sink in were two different things. I saw that his socks always landed right next to the laundry basket instead of inside it, but I only noticed it after we were married. I didn’t care before, and suddenly, it annoyed me.

  But then there were other things I had no need for before, so I didn’t even see them before. Take Nolan’s office. He had a home office, one he used quite often, and when he was working, I didn’t really bug him. I think that was mostly because when I was around, he made it a point not to work. And when he did, I got it, so I did my own thing, from painting my nails to reading to watching TV, even catching up on my own work.

  I’d never had a reason to venture into his office before.

  But now I did. And it wasn’t even that crazy of a reason. I was returning something I ordered online, and I needed to print the return label. So where the heck was the printer? In Nolan’s home office, of course.

  I didn’t think it was a big deal if I used it. After all, it was now my home office too even though I did all my work at the kitchen counter on my laptop.

  Except when I went to open the door, it was locked.

  “Why the hell is it locked?” I mused out loud. Nolan wasn’t even in there. He was taking a shower. I guess I could sort of understand if he needed to close the door while he was working or maybe on an important call or something to block out any potential noise. But even then, why would he lock it?

  I went back to the kitchen and did some other stuff on my laptop while I waited for Nolan to finish his shower. When he was out, I immediately asked, “Why is your office locked?”

  “Why were you trying to go into my office?” he asked, and I was slightly taken aback by his accusing tone.

  “I needed to print the return label for a shirt I ordered that didn’t fit,” I responded and even held up the shirt.

  His rigid stance seemed to soften, which I didn’t understand at all, and he responded with, “Old habits.” And then he shrugged.

  “What’s there to lock in the first place? From who? Me?”

  “It’s just …” He paused, and I couldn’t help but feel like he was either trying to dumb down his response or create one. “I have financials and contacts in there. I wouldn’t want a competitor to get their hands on that information,” he told me, “so I always lock it.”

  “It’s not like they’re going to break down the door while you’re home and raid your office. And when you’re not home, the alarm is on.”

  “You’re right,” he said with a smile. “My paranoia is silly. But when I first got into the business, I accidentally gave away our bid to a competitor.”

  “How the heck do you accidentally give away your bid to a competitor?” I asked.

  “The competitor was a woman,” he answered somewhat sheepishly.

  “Stop, got it,” I said as I held up my hand. “Say no more. The past is the past, but it doesn’t mean I want to hear about it.”

  “After that, I started locking up everything. My phone, my laptop, my office. A habit I never broke. Just give me a minute to clean it up and make it presentable for you, and the printer is all yours.”

  “You know I don’t care if it’s tidy or not. You should see my desk at work. It looks like a tornado went through all the paperwork on my desk,” I said with a chuckle.

  “I was going to offer you a desk too but never mind,” he said with a laugh. “Not sure I’d be able to handle the mess, thank you very much,” he teased. Then he stood quickly and practically sprinted out of the room. “Be right back.”

  He was gone only a minute or two before he yelled, “The coast is clear. Pr
inter is all yours, and I won’t lock the office anymore,” he added as I made my way into the room. “And really, let’s turn one of the other rooms into an office for you too. You shouldn’t have to work at the kitchen counter.”

  “I like to,” I said with a shrug. “I like having the TV on in the background. I think I’d get lonely in my own office in this house.”

  He nodded. “Okay. But if you change your mind, just remember that this house is yours too.”

  “Sometimes, it’s easier to remember it as yours than mine or ours.”

  “Well, this is our office,” he told me. “And I might have an idea or two on how to make you very comfortable in here,” he said with a sexy smirk.

  “Oh, you do, do you?”

  “Yes,” he said as he started stalking toward me, heat searing in his eyes. “And it definitely involves you naked on the desk and your legs spread wide so I can stare at that pretty pink pussy of yours before I flick my tongue over your clit. And when you’re good and wet, I’ll stick a finger inside, pumping in and out slowly until your juices coat my tongue and my desk. And then you’ll hop off, turning around so your ass is in the air while your upper body presses against the desk, causing extra sensations in your sensitive nipples when your tits graze the smooth wood, making you impossibly wetter. And my cock will slip right inside your wet heat, with your pussy pulling me in deeper and deeper, contracting around my cock, making me beg for release, but I won’t until I get at least one more orgasm out of you, but that won’t be a problem because you’ll be so tightly wound that all I’ll have to do is pinch your clit while I fuck you, and you’ll come around my cock, and then I won’t hold back.”

  “Oh God, yes,” I moaned, forgetting all about the printer, the locked office door, everything but needing and wanting Nolan. “Please,” I begged.