One Night, White Lies

by Jessica Lemmon

  Was it an act of revenge? A plot against him? Had he done or said something to her in the past he didn’t recall?

  He pulled on his boxer briefs and rounded to her side of the bed, flicking on the bedside lamp. In the warm ambient light, Drew squeezed her eyes tighter in protest at the rude awakening.

  She hadn’t seen anything yet.

  She reached for the sheet to cover her face, but Reid yanked it away, instantly regretting it. Her naked body was a beautiful sight and his cock, which didn’t mind being misled, twitched in definitive interest.

  Dammit. He concealed her beneath the sheet and snapped his fingers in front of her face.

  Her eyes burst open, glazed and hazy with sleep before those sensual, full lips pulled into a crooked smile. She was gorgeous, but she was also a siren of the worst kind. She’d led him into the rocks. Tricked him. Seduced him.

  She was gorgeous, all right.

  A gorgeous liar.

  Eight

  Her night with Reid rolled over her like the tide sweeping the shore. It crashed into her with the ferocity of four—count ’em, four!—orgasms, and swept away memories of every lonely night spent bingeing sad movies and eating popcorn and feeling sorry for herself over stupid Chef Whatshisname. All that was left was Reid. Beautiful, charming, sexy Reid, who’d made love to her thoroughly...and was now waking her up abruptly.

  She couldn’t dredge up enough anger to take him to task for it, even though the bright bedside lamp was overkill.

  “What time is it?” her morning voice croaked. She reopened one eye to focus on him, expecting to find his charming smirk or affable half smile. Instead, he was glowering at her from his full height.

  “A bit after four.”

  Mmm. She could listen to him talk all day in that yummy British lilt.

  “Drew.”

  “Why on earth are you waking me up at four? We don’t have to report to the display floor until—”

  Drew.

  He’d called her Drew.

  Shit on a shingle. He knew. Wide-awake now, she sat up, her earlier explanations and justifications sounding lame even to her sleep-clogged brain.

  She was so stupid for believing that she could not only pull the wool over his eyes but knit him a complete sweater out of it. Dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

  “Listen, I can explain.” She sat up and pushed her hair off her forehead, the sheet falling to her lap. He jerked the blanket up to cover her. Oh, right, she was naked. She clutched the blankets to her chest, guilt weighing her down.

  “You said your name was Christina,” he bit out through clenched teeth.

  “Actually...I didn’t say that. I wore Christina’s name tag and you assumed—”

  “You let me assume!” His voice was a thunderclap of anger, his hands righteously propped on his hips. “You never thought to mention you were my best friend’s younger sister all grown up?”

  “Don’t lecture me, Singleton!” she snapped, the warm and cozy bliss from great sex and deep sleep now fully shaken off. “Was I so easily overlooked you had no idea who I was? Even as we had sex and talked and looked into each other’s eyes?”

  “You wanted to be called love.” His tone was so lethal she winced.

  “I know. I didn’t want you shouting out Christina because it’d make me feel weird since she’s my roommate.”

  A muscle in his jaw ticked, and she wished it would’ve made him the slightest bit less attractive so that she could stay angry with him. Sadly, it only made him look hotter.

  He turned and walked out and her guilt tripled, even as she admired his sexy backside shifting this way and that in his black boxer briefs.

  “Crap.” She reached to the floor and found her panties and slipped them on. And since her gold shirt was about the least comfortable item of clothing on the planet, she rummaged through a drawer and grabbed one of Reid’s white T-shirts. She pulled it over her head, unable to keep from lifting the soft cotton to her nose for a laundry-commercial worthy sniff. Then she ventured out to find him.

  He stood at the window, stone silent, his back to the room.

  “How’d you figure out who I was?” she asked, her voice small.

  Reid didn’t turn around. One deep breath lifted his wide shoulders, then one more before he finally answered her.

  “Australia,” he said. Strangely.

  “Australia?”

  “Your birthmark.” He peeked over his shoulder at her, one eyebrow winging skyward. “Behind your breast.”

  Right. Her birthmark. “Oh. That.”

  “Yeah, that. Australia and grape jelly in color.”

  “I always thought of it as raspberry.”

  Shirtless, thick forearms arms crossed over his chest, Reid was imposing and inviting all at once. The bump in his boxers was at half-mast, large enough that her gaze snagged on it for a beat longer than appropriate.

  “Drew.”

  “Sorry.” She rerouted her eyes to find his expression less ragey than before. Then she thought about what she was saying and how she was acting. Shame-filled, apologetic, guilty. That was the old Drew.

  Old Drew had since transformed her life, her body, her very being to become who she was today. She wasn’t going to let Reid take that away from her. Not after they’d shared the most intimate act between them.

  “No. You know what? I’m not sorry. You had no complaints about my name, or my breasts or the incredible sex we had a few hours ago. I’m not going to apologize for rocking your world.”

  His expression showed a dash of chagrin. Good.

  “The truth is if you had known it was me, you never would’ve taken me to bed!”

  “You’re damn right.”

  Ouch. She’d expected that, but still didn’t like hearing it.

  “What did I do?”

  She blinked, confused. “Huh?”

  He took a step toward her, and then another until they were toe-to-toe and she had to incline her chin to look up at him. He asked that strange question again, enunciating each word. “What did I do?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “To you? What did I do to you that you wanted to exact revenge on me? How did you know I was going to be here? Do you spy on Monarch Consulting? Did you ask Gage my whereabouts? This isn’t going to end well when he finds out, Drew, you have to know that.”

  She let out an exhalation of disbelief and a laugh of pure derision followed. “Oh...my gosh. You think this was about you.” His turn to look confused. “You self-centered—” She poked him in the chest to make her literal point.

  “Hey.”

  “—egomaniacal—” Poke.

  “Hey!”

  “—selfish bastard!” A third poke in the center of his breastbone had him swatting her away, only he held on to her hand, refusing to let go. “You think I did this to you? You think I held some revenge fantasy in my head so that I could take advantage of you nine years later? Maybe you think I lost weight for you. Dyed my hair for you. Arranged for my roommate to have to flu so I could pretend to be her, just to get to you!”

  She succeeded in freeing herself from his hold. She sniffled, angry that she’d let her emotions overcome her. Angrier that tears were building behind her eyes. Well, those tears would have to wait, because she wasn’t done being pissed off at Reid “I’m Every Woman’s Reason for Getting Up in the Morning” Singleton.

  “You weren’t a target, Reid. I did this for me. I used to have a crush on you so big it nearly took my knees out from under me. And the handful of times I saw you after, that bolt of attraction returned. But I was too young, or too overweight—”

  “Drew—”

  “Shut up, I’m not done.” Unwaveringly, she held his gaze, daring him to interrupt. He pressed his lips into a firm line and let her finish. “I was too young, or too overweight, or t
oo short to grab your attention back then. But not tonight.” Her smile returned when she remembered him noticing her. “Tonight you were watching me. You said you noticed my shoes first. You bought me a drink and you flirted with me. And then you brought me here and—”

  “I know what happened.” He held up a palm to stay her words.

  “Was it that bad for you? Because for me, it was...” Vulnerability was not her strong suit, but here she went. “It was really great.”

  He surprised her by tucking his hand under her jaw and pegging her with a glare that rivaled the one he wore when he woke her up.

  “How could you ask me that? You know how it was for me. You were there.” His voice gentled.

  “I knew you’d say no. That’s why I didn’t tell you my name. I had one chance for you to see me as someone other than Gage’s little sister, and I took it.” She shrugged. “I was going to tell you the truth in the morning. I thought I’d wake up before you did. I didn’t know you’d knock me out with a four-pack of orgasms.”

  His rough laugh startled her as much as his fingers playing in her hair.

  “I guess I didn’t do as good a job of knocking you out since you were awake first,” she said.

  He dipped his chin, leveling her with an authoritative look. “I woke up ready to do it again. I was debating whether or not four a.m. was too early to wake you for another round.”

  Her “oh” was a startled puff of air. Round two sounded...wonderful. “Okay. I accept.”

  His headshake was subtle, but no less disappointing. But she could work with subtle.

  “The conference lasts another four days. If we—”

  “No. Are you aware that I see your brother each and every day at work? If he found out—”

  “You think I’m anxious to tell Gage about who I’m sleeping with? I don’t need his permission and neither do you. Unless you took some oath I’m not aware of not to date me I don’t see the problem.”

  There it was. That smirk she found stupidly attractive. And since he’d given her an inch, she continued her side of the argument.

  “I know you’re not looking for anything permanent—trust me, after my last boyfriend, neither am I.” She rested a hand on Reid’s naked chest.

  “Drew.” He put his hand over hers. “We can’t.”

  “Why not? Do you regret it?” A second passed. Two. Three. Four. “Tell me why we can’t take off the clothes we’re wearing right now and have sex like we did earlier. Tell me why we can’t, and I promise I’ll get dressed, leave and I won’t bother you for the rest of the conference. Or ever again.”

  Part of her screamed in protest, but she wouldn’t accept pity sex, especially from Reid. If he regretted sleeping with her that much, they’d be better off chalking last night up as a onetime thing. She’d have the memory of the best sex ever, and that would be enough.

  That would have to be enough.

  Nine

  How could he look into Drew’s warm coffee-brown eyes and lie? He couldn’t. Even though he should. He should tell her that having sex with her was a mistake not to be repeated, and that while she didn’t have to avoid him entirely, any physical endeavors between them were well and truly off.

  He should tell her the reason why was because he wasn’t a good guy for her to waste her time with. He should tell her that Gage was too good a friend to lie to, even by omission.

  He should.

  She was delicate swimming in his white T-shirt that covered her panties and hung low on her arms. Her eyes turned up to him in open vulnerability, and dammit, he couldn’t lie to her. She siphoned the truth out of him like a needle in a vein.

  “I don’t have a good reason why,” he admitted. “And no, I don’t regret it. I was surprised when I saw that birthmark. I didn’t recognize you last night, which made me feel daft. I should throw you out on principle alone,” he added sternly.

  She tucked her chin and batted her lashes, peering up at him with wide, doe-like eyes. That made her look like a naughty schoolgirl he’d like to take over his knee. It’d be no less than she deserved.

  “But if I threw you out,” he told her, gripping her nape, “I’d never again have the chance to do this—” He kissed her, sliding his tongue along hers and tasting that familiar-but-not flavor he’d become acquainted with. “And I want to do that again, Drew.” He studied her carefully. “Or do you prefer to be called ‘love’?”

  “I prefer Drew.” Her cheeks grew pink, lust darkening her widening pupils.

  He lifted the hem of the T-shirt she wore and tossed it aside, taking a moment to admire those lush breasts begging for his tongue. He gave in to their plea, kissing the rosy buds as she moaned in his ear and tickled his scalp.

  Hand between her legs, he pressed his fingers against her silky panties to find her damp and ready for him. “That didn’t take long.”

  A sharp yank drew his head back, and he was facing Drew Fleming’s wrath, her eyes twin pools of dark chocolate, her pursed, full lips determined. “You still have to work for it.”

  “Do I?” He loved teasing her. He’d enjoyed it last night, and he found himself looking even more forward to it in spite of knowing her true identity. She wasn’t a one-night stand; she was someone he knew. Someone he shouldn’t be with. Forbidden.

  As much as he desired connection and release for himself, he craved her release even more. Craved those heady sounds of satisfaction as he gave her exactly what she wanted. Craved hearing his name roll off her lips, and saying her name as he lost himself inside her.

  Her real name.

  Propelling her backward, he walked her to the nearest wall and pressed her against it.

  “Oh, back where we started,” she said playfully.

  “Yes, except this time we’re doing everything against this wall. Later, if you like, we can have another round on that chair.” He tipped his head to gesture to the chair sitting adjacent to the sofa. “And then over there on that kitchenette counter, or maybe the bathroom counter.”

  A flare of excitement widened her eyes.

  “Bathroom counter, then?”

  “What?” She blinked like she hadn’t expected him to say that.

  “You seemed excited by the prospect of the bathroom counter.” He quickly carried her to the bathroom, plopping her onto the smooth marble surface. Only one sink, so the length of the counter was wide open for other endeavors. “I’m here to serve.”

  He smoothed his fingers from her neck to the valley between her breasts, purposely avoiding touching her exposed nipples. “Why did you like the idea of the bathroom, Drew?”

  He suspected why, but he wanted to hear her say it. By everything she’d told him he could guess that she’d had a few fantasies that hadn’t been sufficiently exceeded. He meant to change that.

  “Um.” Those cheeks went pink again before a nervous laugh parted her beautiful mouth. Just when he thought he’d have to tickle the answer out of her, she said, “Because of the mirror.”

  “You’d like to look in the mirror during?”

  “Don’t sound so shocked. Look at you. Like I wouldn’t want to watch while we’re...you know.”

  Could she be more darling? With all that dark hair coasting over her shoulders and her eye makeup slightly smudged, she was girl-next-door sexy with a million curves he wanted to road test at every possible speed. Breakneck, stop-and-go, snail’s-pace slow...

  “That’s where you’ve got it wrong. You’re the one to look at in that scenario.” He slipped off her panties and discarded his boxers, helping her off the counter. He turned her to face the mirror. The lighting was bright and revealing, and the more he saw, the more he wanted. “Is it any wonder I was too gobsmacked to recognize who you were? Look at you.”

  He smoothed her narrow shoulders with his palms, slid over her biceps and took her hands in his. He held her arms to he
r side, and watched as her breasts lifted, the perfect quarter-sized nipples puckering in the cool air streaming in from the AC vent. From there he traced his hands along her ribs until she giggled and clasped his hands in hers.

  “I wondered if I’d have to tickle that answer out of you earlier, and here you are, ticklish.”

  “Don’t use that against me, okay?”

  “Never,” he lied, kissing her cheek as he clasped both her wrists behind her. “Now, where were we?”

  He smoothed his hands over her belly, and she winced. “Not there.”

  “Why not? I like this part.” Her belly wasn’t completely flat, which he adored. Her curves were what he’d found most attractive. “I like how you feel against me.”

  He cupped her between her legs, gentling her open and swiping a finger along her seam. Kissing her ear, he watched her in the mirror. Her eyes were closed, her breasts heaving with her breaths, her mouth open in a pre-orgasmic O.

  Bloody gorgeous—he was a lucky bastard.

  He continued stroking and talking while she dissolved against him.

  “I like all your soft bits against me. The soft and the hard make for great contrasts.” He let go of her wrists and bumped her full bottom with his erection. She moaned her approval.

  With one hand he increased the slick friction between her legs while toying with her nipple with the other. Then he offered a quick bite to her earlobe and breathed into her ear, “Drew. Open your eyes.”

  * * *

  She obeyed Reid’s command, and her gaze clashed with his in the mirror. She was surrounded by his tanned, broad form and thick shoulders. His fingers, dark against her pale skin, moved between her legs, and with each upward stroke she had to resist standing on her toes. She didn’t know if she wanted more pressure or less. If she should ease away from the sensation or lean into it. He was too fantastic—too beautiful. Too...everything.

  “My God, look at you.”

  He kept saying that, and as much as she wanted to stare at his perfect beauty, she obeyed his command and looked at herself. At her flushed face and neck, at the rosy nipples, one of which was being plucked lazily by the man behind her. At her hips and belly she’d never quite been able to rid herself of, damn her love of bread.