ArtoftheLie

by Delphine Dryden

  “No, she really is dating Paul Maddox. I’ve seen them.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I wouldn’t kid about that. Why are you so convinced it’s impossible they would be dating?”

  “Well, he’s Paul Maddox. And she’s Lindy. Which, you know, I love her and all, but she’s not exactly the kind of girl you’d expect to see with somebody like—”

  “Tess, stop. Really. Just keep the rest of that thought to yourself, all right?”

  He knew Tess didn’t mean to sound abrasive. She just still saw the awkward girl Lindy had been growing up, and wanted to protect that girl. But he still bridled at the implied insult. And his brain was still trying to wrap itself around the other thing Tess had just told him.

  “Lindy,” he said after collecting himself for a few seconds, “is beautiful. And talented, and a great friend, and I could go on but the point is that she’s exactly the kind of girl any man would kill to be with. I don’t know how long it’s been since you took a good look at her, but I’ll tell you again that you don’t seem to know her as well as you think.”

  “She’s my sister.”

  “Exactly.” The sound of footsteps in the hall caught Richard’s attention, and he hastened to end the call. “Tess, I have to go. If I talk to Lindy, I’ll tell her you called, okay?”

  Hanging up in short order, he hurried to the hall in time to see Lindy fumbling with her keys at the door to her loft. When she heard him she turned her head, startled, and something in her eyes reminded him of what Tess had said. Some hesitation, some question waiting to be answered.

  She had a crush on him.

  It was like a light bulb going on over Richard’s head. All their interactions, all the seemingly casual comments and sideways little glances, everything was suddenly cast in a new light. She had a crush on him, and she was shy. And she had still mustered up the courage to ask him to sleep with her, to be the first. Even though she had known, or thought she’d known, that he wasn’t interested in anything more than friendship.

  Because she trusted him that much.

  It took him a moment to realize that Lindy was struggling with her key because her hands, like the rest of her, were soaking wet and shaking with cold. Her coat was muddy at the hem and her knee was bleeding from a scrape.

  “You’re a mess.”

  “Thanks.”

  He had already taken the key out of her hand and opened the door, and he followed her into the loft without asking.

  “What happened? Are you okay? You’re bleeding.”

  “Oh crap.” Lindy looked down at the blood with a growl. “I thought it had stopped. The weather happened. I had to run to my car with no umbrella and I slipped.”

  “The other knee is scraped too.”

  “It’s really no big deal. I’m fine. I’m just here to get some Band-Aids and change clothes, I’m late for a date.”

  She has a crush on me.

  He looked at her face and then down at her bleeding knees, and knew one thing with startling clarity. He couldn’t let her go on that date with Maddox. Even if it meant telling her what he’d been trying to talk himself out of believing for days.

  * * * * *

  To Lindy’s dismay, Richard had crouched down and was examining the damage to her legs close-up, one hand curled around the back of her knee for support.

  And there it was—the bolt of lustful need she’d been waiting for since she started dating Paul. Traveling from Richard’s fingers straight up the back of her leg and circling around her pussy like a plane just waiting to land.

  “I’m fine,” she said again and tried to step away, to no avail.

  “It’s these fuck-me heels you’ve started wearing lately. Those things are lethal. We need to clean this.” He probed carefully at the deeper wound and came away with a tiny piece of what appeared to be gravel. Lindy hoped he mistook her needy whimper for a complaint about the slight pain.

  “I don’t have time. I’ll do it later, I just need to get a bandage for it right now.”

  “No,” he said calmly. “We’re going to clean it.”

  “Richard, I’m fine.”

  “When was your last tetanus shot?”

  “Within the last ten years. Look, I’m going to be late for the movie. Let me go.”

  Instead he wrapped both hands more firmly around her legs, holding her in place and managing to look commanding even though he was the one looking up.

  “So you’re going back out with Mr. Red House?”

  “Paul.”

  “You’re shivering and bleeding. You think he would care more about you being late than you taking care of yourself?”

  “I don’t care what he thinks. I’m going for myself. Because it’s what I want to do. But not without changing first.”

  Her coat, hanging open, was dripping onto the floor. Lindy pushed it off her shoulders and let it fall, then crossed her arms defiantly across her chest. Richard noticed she was dressed up, a simple black dress accented by a gold-fringed red silk shawl that was now damp around Lindy’s neck where it had ridden up outside her coat.

  “All this for the movies? Why not just throw on some jeans? It’s raining, it seems dumb to get dressed up.”

  “Paul will still be in a suit. I can’t go looking all scruffy. I’m not really wet all over, I just need a different pair of shoes and a scarf or something. If you would let go of me.”

  Richard shrugged and tugged the red shawl from her neck, letting it land on his knee where it contrasted beautifully with the worn black denim of his jeans. “This was pretty. It’s a shame the pussy scarf is still on display at the gallery, you’d have looked great in that.”

  “Don’t call it that,” she said softly.

  He looked up again, eyeing her sharply, and Lindy noticed his nostrils were literally flaring. She couldn’t decide if she liked it or not. The look on his face might have scared her coming from anybody else. It was too hard, too much. But it was still Richard. And she couldn’t be afraid of Richard. In fact, if fear had an opposite, she thought that might be what she was feeling.

  “Pussy scarf,” he repeated, flexing his fingers tighter around her hamstrings.

  “Stop it!”

  “Pussy scarf, pussy scarf, pussy scarf.”

  For perhaps the first time in her life, Lindy found that only one retort expressed the depth of her feelings about the situation at hand.

  “Fuck you, Richard,” she said crisply.

  “Gladly. Been waiting to hear that since I walked through the door.” And he stood up, grabbed her by the waist and slung her over his shoulder before heading for her bed.

  Caught off guard and with a little wind knocked out of her, Lindy didn’t even think to start kicking until Richard was almost to the bed. He seemed more amused by her struggles than anything else, pinning her legs easily with one arm and swatting her firmly on the butt.

  “Dammit, put me down!”

  “Planning on it.” He slung her onto the bed and straddled her, caging her tightly with his knees and holding up the scarf by one relatively dry corner. Lindy’s eyes widened.

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  He already was, his greater reach making it fairly easy for him to secure first one of her hands and then the other to the conveniently sturdy antique brass headboard that graced Lindy’s bedroom space. It didn’t hurt that her struggles lacked conviction. She’d gone weak and wet at the first tug of the twisted fabric around her wrist, and by the time the second arm was secured she felt like a needy rag doll. Not that she wanted Richard to know that, because she didn’t think this type of behavior should be encouraged. At least, up until now she hadn’t thought so.

  “You want to have sex again so you’re just going to caveman your way through this? Seriously? Just club the virgin on the head and drag her off by the hair to your cave?” Appealing to his higher sensibilities was always worth a shot. A long shot.

  “You’re not a virgin anymore,” Richard pointed out, pulling
off his t-shirt and moving down to the foot of the bed. “And I didn’t club you on the head. I’ll admit to one pop on the ass. But only with the best intentions. And you know you liked it.”

  “Asshole.”

  “Maybe, but you still liked it. Straighten your leg.” She complied automatically, and she saw that fact register on Richard’s face as he tied her ankle to the footboard with his shirt. She made a pretense of trying to kick at him with the other foot when he grabbed for it, but she knew he wasn’t fooled. And then he had his belt off and strapped around her ankle and there she was, spread out at his mercy. And about thirty seconds from an orgasm, if he had cared to proceed in that direction. But Richard, it seemed, had calmed down enough to do some forward planning.

  “Can you feel all your fingers and toes?”

  Lindy gave him a grudging nod.

  “Good. Do you have a pair of very strong scissors that aren’t too pointy at the ends? If not I have some at my place.”

  “On my workbench. Why?”

  He strode across to the bench, spotted the shears in fairly short order and returned, placing them on Lindy’s nightstand. “Because safety is important. Now I’m going to dial the phone for you, and while I clean up your wounds, you are going to cancel your date with the asshole in the suit and then spend the rest of the weekend in bed with me. And next weekend. Actually, just clear your calendar. For the foreseeable future.”

  Lindy took a moment to process what Richard was saying, but decided she wasn’t quite ready to give in to the wild hope his words gave her. “He isn’t the one acting like an asshole in this situation, Richard,” she said, arching an eyebrow at him. He ignored it.

  “Number, please? Or is this it? MaddoxCorp?” He had scrolled through the recent calls.

  Lindy nodded. “So what’s to keep me from getting Paul to come rescue me, smart guy? Are you going to hold the shears to my throat or what?” If she’d had any remote fear of his doing so, or if she’d actually wanted rescuing, she wouldn’t have said it. But she was really curious to know what his plan was. She wasn’t expecting the smug smile, the absolute arrogant-jackass expression that prefaced his response.

  Richard glanced down at her lap and casually flipped up her skirt, revealing her black lace thong. He nodded at her underwear choice in approval. “Very nice. You’ve been turned-on as hell since about the time I slapped your ass. Maybe even before that. Your panties are drenched. I could smell it.” He tugged the narrow strap of the thong to one side, tucking it down next to her leg to expose her pussy. She could feel herself getting wetter as he stared. “We definitely need to talk. And fuck. A lot.”

  Without further ado, he pressed the dial button and held the phone to Lindy’s ear until she gave up and held it with her shoulder. Paul answered on the third ring, and for one moment Lindy considered yelling like hell, just to show Richard a thing or two. Then Richard reached his free hand down and slid a finger inside her, then a second one, holding her possessively and staring her down.

  “Paul, this is Lindy. I’m so sorry, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel.”

  Nodding, Richard left her to the conversation and went wandering off, returning shortly with antiseptic wipes and bandages.

  “I’m fine,” Lindy was saying to Paul as Richard set to work on her knees. “Just soaking wet and chilled. And it’s a weeknight, so I think it’s probably better not to head out quite this late.”

  “Well, I’m disappointed but I can’t say I blame you.” He didn’t sound very disappointed, and for a second Lindy almost felt hurt by that. “It’s really looking nasty out there. I’m just glad you made it home safely.”

  “Thanks.” She felt a pang of regret. Paul really was so sweet. Richard, while he was many things, was not usually sweet. But it seemed he had only to crook his finger and she would come running. If he wanted this, wanted whatever he meant by fucking and talking a lot, she couldn’t help herself. She had to take a chance on it.

  “Hey, by the way, thanks for getting me back in touch with Stella. We had a long talk the other day. It sounds like she’s doing really well.”

  Lindy was surprised, because Stella hadn’t mentioned anything about it. She wondered if that meant Stella wasn’t sure what she herself thought about it yet, and she hoped that was a good thing in this case.

  “You should go out for coffee,” she suggested. “Or dinner.”

  “Oh.” Paul sounded slightly confused, but also a little hopeful. “I guess I could do that. But are you sure you’d be all right with that?”

  “Absolutely,” she assured him.

  Richard, just putting the final bandage on her knee, gave her a querying look. Unable to shrug her shoulders with the phone propped as it was, Lindy just rolled her eyes and returned to her conversation, trying to ignore the surreal quality of the scene. As Paul spoke again, Richard took Lindy’s wet shoes off and she flexed her restrained feet gratefully.

  “If you’re sure.”

  “You know, I really am.”

  “So, are you trying to say you do want me to ask Stella out, and you don’t want me to ask you out anymore?”

  Grimacing, Lindy tried to think of an easy answer. None came. “I am saying that, I think. Not that I haven’t enjoyed going out with you, because I really have. It’s just…complicated.”

  A feral grin crossed Richard’s face, and he leaned over to nip at Lindy’s thigh. She gulped, trying not to yelp.

  “It’s something to do with the guy from your exhibition, right? The one who lives in your building.” Paul was saying.

  “Yes,” Lindy replied, surprised. Had it been that obvious? Then why hadn’t she noticed it before?

  “I had a feeling there was something else going on there,” he said, and Lindy thought back over the incident, trying to see it through fresh eyes. Richard’s face, tight and guarded, the tension in his long limbs as he stood in the doorway just a little too long. The way he had slammed the crash bar when he opened the door, almost like he was angry.

  Because he had been angry. And jealous. He wasn’t being protective. He was being possessive.

  “There wasn’t anything going on yet at the time,” Lindy said, addressing the emotional factor if not the physical one. “That I knew of, anyway. We’ve been just friends for a long time.”

  “I doubt he’d say the same,” Paul said, with more understanding than Lindy expected. “But I wish you all the best. And I admit I really did sort of want to ask Stella out. I always had a thing for her back in school. So we’re still okay on the business side of things, right?”

  “Of course,” she said, feeling that if anything, she was the one who should have been worried about that part. Paul really was a nice guy, it seemed.

  And then Richard worked his fingers inside her again, finally connecting with the most sensitive spot he could reach, and Lindy wasn’t too sure what she said to end the call. Just that at some point Richard took the receiver from her hand.

  “Just because I canceled,” Lindy mustered the willpower to say, “doesn’t mean any of this is okay.”

  “Is that so?” Richard lifted a shiny finger to her lips, pushing it into her mouth until she had to choose between biting him or sucking off the evidence of her body’s treachery. She glared at him, scraping her teeth over his knuckle in warning, only to get another look of fierce enjoyment.

  “My being turned-on has nothing to do with whether or not your behavior is acceptable.”

  “Are these panties replaceable? A simple yes or no will suffice.”

  Lindy nodded, and a second later Richard had taken the shears to her thong, stripping the scrap of lace away to leave her completely naked below the waist. “But you harm this dress and you’re a dead man.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ve always thought you looked really good in this dress. It’s washable, though, right? Just in case?”

  She thought about it for a moment before admitting warily that, yes, it was washable.

  “But Rich
ard,” she cautioned before he could say or do more, “if this is just about how geographically convenient I am right now, I’m not interested. Really. I can’t do that. I don’t want to be your friend with benefits. That’s not me.”

  “Lindy, how could you think that?”

  She was annoyed that he had the nerve to sound affronted. “I could think that because the next morning, all you mentioned was the pancakes. And the bacon, but I think that was probably just a code word for more sex. I admit I had to leave pretty quickly, so I didn’t get to hear more. But then the second time you made such a point of saying it was only one more time, and reminding me that we were just friends. Are you seriously going to keep me tied down here for this conversation?”

  “Yes I am. Okay, first of all, I would never use bacon as code for sex, because then I might not get the bacon. And second, you were the one who started the whole just-friends thing. I was trying to say what I thought you wanted to hear.”

  “So you could use that to talk me back into bed.”

  “For more of the best sex I’d ever had!”

  “How many times have you had the ‘best sex you’ve ever had’? How many girls have heard that?”

  “One,” he said, shaking his head, clearly hurt. “Just one. But it wasn’t even about the sex, Lindy. How can you not get that?”

  She tried to steel herself against his wounded tone, remembering all the times she had watched him in school, brushing off the last girl and moving on to the next. “That’s what I was thinking, too, Richard. Right before I told myself what an idiot I was for thinking it.”

  To his credit, he didn’t argue, just nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. Fair enough, I guess. I can see how you’d feel that way. Do you know what I was thinking? Not during the sex, obviously. Afterward. When I was falling asleep.” When she shook her head, he went on. “I was thinking about what to get you for Christmas.”

  “It isn’t even Halloween,” she pointed out, puzzled.

  “No, I know, but you don’t understand. I was thinking about what to get you for Christmas. Lindy, do you know how many women I’ve ever purchased Christmas presents for in my entire life?”