Deception: The Deception Trilogy, Book 1

by Fallon Hart

  “Not to people who deserved one.” Griff looked at me and I was suddenly left breathless by the remorse in his eyes. “Melanie’s the only person who ever deserved the apology.” We held each other’s gaze for a bit too long as I tried desperately not to let his soulful eyes lower my defenses again. It wasn’t easy. Finally, Griff broke the moment and stood up. “You know I think I’ll change and go for a run along the beach before I eat anything.” He disappeared into the house before any of us could respond.

  And then I heard Amelia say under her breath in a sing-song voice, “I think someone’s in love.”

  My eyes flew to her, shocked that she’d think so. Then I remembered she was supposed to think so.

  “Amelia,” Quentin warned, shaking his head at her.

  I ducked mine, pretending to be overly interested in my croissant.

  ◆◆◆

  After breakfast I hid in the bedroom for a while as other guests headed downstairs to eat. By mid-morning, however, I knew Griff would grow annoyed if I didn’t show my face. Glancing out over the balcony I saw mostly everyone was in their swimwear, so I stripped out of the dress and wandered downstairs barefoot in my bikini with a bottle of sun lotion in hand.

  I thought the bikini was rather tame in comparison to some of the others on display. It was a printed Dolce & Gabbana with a sweetheart neckline and high-waisted bikini bottoms. I’d twisted my long hair into a messy pile on top of my head and wore oversized white sunglasses.

  The look was very fifties Hollywood bombshell and I actually liked it. Yet, it was a bikini that exaggerated my curves and there was no way my large breasts could ever be anything but overt. So it didn’t surprise me to see Griff zone in on me immediately as I walked down to the pool and it didn’t surprise me when he cut off the man he was talking to and prowled toward me with intent.

  Behind the dark lenses of my glasses I was free to ogle him. He was so tall and broad, every inch of his body sculpted to perfection. I remembered how he felt pressed up against me. How he made me feel feminine and overwhelmed when I’d never felt that way with Eric (a thought that pricked my guilt) or any man. When I was younger I’d been shy of my abundant curves, mistaking them for fat and longing to be petite and slender, with smaller hips and boobs.

  As I’d gotten older, mostly through seeing my body on Mel who embraced her curves, I’d realized neither of us were fat. We were Marilyn Monroes, not Audrey Hepburns, and that was okay. In fact, there were women who would have killed for our figures so I stopped complaining and started dressing to suit my body shape.

  Griff took hold of my arms as soon as we reached each other and pulled me against him, almost like he was hiding me. He also wore sunglasses so I couldn’t read his expression. “Where is your cover up?”

  I pinched my lips together in annoyance. “I don’t have one.” Glancing around, I sighed. “And no other woman is wearing one.”

  “No other woman here looks like you in a goddamn bikini. Jesus Christ, at least five married men just adjusted their fucking crotches watching you walk toward me.”

  And just like that I was very aware of his arousal pressing against me. My breath caught and I knew he heard my sudden awareness in my voice when I held up the sun lotion. “I guess that means you won’t want to put lotion on my back? I can’t reach.”

  I was pretty sure he was glaring at me behind his glasses. “I do it or no one else does.”

  I huffed at the possessive comment and spun around slowly. When I felt the cool cream on my back I shivered and tried not to enjoy the feel of his hands on me too much. I couldn’t look at anyone, feeling like they were all watching Griff put the lotion on me.

  His hands coasted over my shoulders up to my neck and he massaged it in, making me sway with pleasure. “You’re tense,” he murmured.

  Yes, I was tense! I was horny and it was all his fault.

  Pfft!

  He rubbed the lotion in, sliding his hand under the thick strap of the bikini and I gasped as his longer fingers brushed the underside of my breasts.

  “Fuck me,” he murmured thickly.

  I knew he didn’t mean it as an invitation but I wanted it to be. Seriously. How the hell were we supposed to ignore this attraction? I needed to remind myself that he couldn’t tell if my reactions were real. He didn’t trust me.

  “That should do it.” I pulled abruptly away.

  Griff wasn’t in the mood for distance apparently, and very much in the mood to put on a show. He pulled me back into his arms and I rested my hands on his bare hard chest, feeling a sprinkling of hair beneath my fingers. And then I tried not to gasp as his hands slid over my ass. His dick was still hard.

  “Speaking of needing to adjust crotches,” I said quietly.

  He smirked down to me. “Yes, quite the predicament I’m in. Apparently, you have the ability to turn me into a school boy, too, Miss Jennings, unable to control my own fucking cock.”

  I tried not to laugh at his disgruntlement, enjoying the idea of having power over him in some way. “Think of England,” I teased.

  Griff chuckled. “No. I don’t think so. Let them see what you do to me. It’ll only make our relationship seem more believable.”

  “You don’t mind them seeing you like this?”

  His hands tightened on my ass and I let out a little moan as sensation gripped me between the legs. He tensed against me. “Real or not real?”

  “Would you believe me either way?”

  “Try me.”

  I blushed, thinking how all he had to do was touch me to know I was wet.

  He lifted a hand to trail a finger across my hot cheek. “Now I need to know what you’re thinking.”

  Could I say it?

  Mel would have no problem saying it.

  “I …” I huddled closer to him, not wanting to be overheard. “I was thinking that all you have to do is touch me to get your answer.”

  He frowned. “Touch you…” his eyebrows rose above his sunglasses. “You’re wet?”

  I blushed at the blunt question and whispered, “I was last night too. You were seconds from finding out that I let you touch me because I wanted to, not because you were paying me to. You don’t deserve that truth. But I’m giving it to you nonetheless.”

  He was silent and I knew he was studying me behind his sunglasses. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Let’s get in the pool.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “We need to cool off.”

  “That’s not what I had in mind.” He took my hand and led me to the stairs. He gestured for me to get in first and I took the opportunity to look around.

  There were a few guests drinking mimosas in the pool and they smiled at me knowingly while I tried not to blush. My gaze moved out of the pool to the loungers where Amelia was congregated with a few of her friends. She was grinning huge at me and I realized everyone had been watching us.

  Griff moved across the pool toward me, hooking his arm around my waist. He guided me to the far corner, near the back of the yard, and then trapped me against the side of the pool. Without a warning he gripped my legs in his hands and I had no choice but to wrap my arms around his neck as he wrapped my legs around his waist. He took off my sunglasses and his own and placed them by the pool.

  “Griff—”

  He ground into me, cutting me off as he groaned against my lips, “We’re going to make out like teenagers. Give them something more to talk about.”

  And so we did.

  My thighs gripped his waist as I lost myself to his languorous kisses. They were easy, slow, deepening over time. He lifted his head to stare into my eyes, something wicked gleaming in his. “Are you still wet?”

  “Griff…” we were playing such a dangerous game.

  “Tell me.” His hand slid up from my waist to just below my breast and he squeezed, like he wished it was my breast.

  “Yes,” I gasped, feeling his hot hardness rub between my legs. “Griff, not here.” I was starting to feel weak with desire and I didn’t w
ant to forget myself. He always made me forget myself.

  “How wet are you?”

  “Griff,” I begged.

  “Tell me,” he growled against my lips.

  “Soaked,” I snapped. “Happy?”

  “I can’t fuck you, so no,” he snapped back before kissing me again.

  His kiss felt out of control but I still remembered where we were, that we had an audience. I stroked his neck, trying to calm him, and it worked, his kiss gentling.

  “Jesus Christ, get a room!” someone yelled.

  We broke the kiss and to my surprise Griff grinned at my round-eyed expression. Embarrassed, I pressed my face to his throat and felt his laughter vibrate in it. A rush of pleasure shot through me as he cuddled me into him.

  I couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged me.

  “Leave them alone,” Another a man called out. “If I had her in my bed I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off her either.”

  At the same time a high-pitched female voice yelled a disgruntled, “Michael!” Griff glanced over his shoulder and said in an authoritative but lethally quiet voice, “Watch it, Michael.”

  “Hey, no harm meant. I like my balls where they are, thank you very much.”

  I stroked Griff’s back, trying to ease his tension, and pulled my face out of his throat. He turned to look down at me and my heart spasmed at his overwhelming handsomeness. I touched his bristly cheek. “Maybe we should stop.”

  It was like he could read my mind, knowing what I was really saying was maybe we should stop this, period, because his jaw tightened. “We can’t. Tonight I propose, remember.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “So you have to tell us everything, Melanie,” Maggie Ostermeier said as I found myself surrounded by her and three of her friends.

  We’d had dinner and now a group of us had decided to take a walk on the beach. Griff had already whispered in my ear that he was going to separate us from them and propose to me where they could see but couldn’t hear.

  Butterflies raged in my stomach at the thought of acting out the proposal.

  As soon as we’d hit the beach Griff had been commandeered by Quentin who wanted to talk to him about something and since the request came from his friend I knew Griff couldn’t say no. That’s when Maggie slid her arm through mine and her friends surrounded me on either side.

  The cool ocean air suddenly felt stifling as we walked along the sand.

  “Ugh, this sand is not ideal,” Maggie’s redheaded friend complained on my other side.

  I was trying to remember her name when Maggie replied, “Don’t let Amelia hear you complain, Jen. You know she loves her quaint little Wickford.”

  I tensed at the condescension in her tone as the two of them giggled.

  Bitches.

  “I can see why,” I said, my tone hard. “They have a beautiful second home here. Most people would feel very blessed to be so fortunate as Amelia and Quentin.”

  There was silence and I’m sure an exchanging of looks but I was staring determinedly ahead where Amelia was laughing with a few other guests.

  “Of course.” Maggie patted my arm. “You’re quite right, Melanie. You are such a darling. Is that why you hold such a fascination for Griff?”

  “Yes. If I had known he had a thing for redheads…” Jen grinned at Esme, a stunning brunette whose name I did remember because she was kind of hard to forget. She was married to some big CEO who was king in the financial district but had come to the house party without him. I gathered from what I’d heard that he worked a lot.

  Esme frowned at Jen. “You both have red hair, Jen. That’s where the similarities end.”

  It took everything within me not to choke on my laughter at the catty comment.

  “And what does that mean?”

  “Don’t get your panties in a twist. You’re the one making suggestive comments about another woman’s man to her face.”

  “Well I thought we were all here to do that.” She huffed and glared at Maggie.

  Maggie giggled while I walked between them, bemused and wishing, quite honestly, that they would all—in Griff’s words—fuck off.

  “Quite right,” Maggie said. She squeezed my arm again. “You just have to tell us. Especially after that scene I interrupted last night. My goodness, I was so hot and flustered afterward the girls wondered what was amiss. I had to tell them.”

  Realizing she was talking about walking in on me and Griff going at each other against the hallway wall, I fought my instinctual embarrassment and shrugged. “What is it you’re asking, exactly?”

  The blonde on Maggie’s side, whose name I couldn’t remember, giggled like a schoolgirl. “Ask her Maggie.”

  “Are the rumors about Griff true?” Maggie’s eyes danced with the joy of learning new gossip. “Is he really that well-endowed?”

  I’d only ever felt it pressing against my belly but I had my suspicions that yes, yes he was.

  “And is he as masterful with his tongue as we’ve been led to believe? He doesn’t say much but we’ve heard it’s because he likes to rest his tongue so he can delight the women he’s with.” Everyone but Esme laughed.

  I felt anger churning in my belly.

  Horrified to realize it was part-jealousy thinking about those women, I turned to the irritated part instead.

  I didn’t know these women and as far as they were aware I was in a serious relationship with Griff. They thought it was okay to talk to me like this about him?

  Unhooking my arm from Maggie’s grasp, I stopped and they all halted with me. Staring directly into Maggie’s eyes, I saw her amusement die under my cool gaze. Taking a page out of Griff’s book, I didn’t bother saying a word, and just let my expression speak for me.

  She shifted uncomfortably, her eyes flicking to her friends before coming back to me. “Apologies, Melanie.” She smiled weakly. “We meant no offense.”

  “If you ladies don’t mind, I’d like to walk alone for a bit.”

  Jen immediately grabbed Maggie’s hand and three of them strode off, whispering to each other like teenagers.

  Esme hadn’t moved.

  I looked at her.

  She studied me with those beautiful, big dark eyes that I was sure made men everywhere melt for her. I wondered if Griff had ever taken notice of her. I couldn’t imagine he hadn’t.

  “I apologize for the ladies.” She gestured to them. “I told them approaching you was not a good idea. They’re fascinated by Mandeville and approach his latest girl every time they get the opportunity. His girls usually spill. But I tried to tell them you weren’t his usual girl. They should have listened.”

  “They should have.” I considered her and the thought was out of my mouth before I could stop it, “Are you fascinated by Griff, too?”

  Esme gave me a soft smile. “No, Melanie. Contrary to popular belief the only man who fascinates me is my husband. He has to work a lot, however. I like to find ways to pass the time, especially the kind that makes him miss me so much he calls three times a day.” She laughed lightly. “Plus, Amelia is one of the few women in this circle I actually have time for so I always come to her house parties.”

  “Yes, she’s lovely.”

  “She’s not the only one.”

  I smiled at the veiled compliment, deciding there was a possibility of liking Esme. Before I’d been intimidated by her beauty and the fact that she was a socialite. Unfairly, I’d judged her before I’d really spoken to her.

  We started to stroll, realizing the others were getting further away. “How long have you been married?”

  “Five years.” Her expression turned wistful. “I knew when I met Stephen that his career would eat into a lot of his time—he never hid that from me. He made absolutely sure that I knew who he was. In fact, he tried to push me away at first.”

  “Why?”

  “He wanted better for me, he said. But love doesn’t work like that. I never imagined falling in love with a man like Steph
en. He’s demanding, brutally honest, sometimes selfish, possessive to the point of obnoxiousness…” she threw me a smile of comradery and I realized Griff’s pretense at possessiveness had at least tricked her, “But he’s also deeply loyal, exceptionally kind to those he loves, funny, extremely intelligent, and supportive. I can talk to him about anything and I know he’s really listening.”

  Envy panged in my chest. “I’m happy you have that, Esme.”

  “Thank you.” She stared ahead, a small smile playing on her lips. “I don’t think it’ll be long until you have that too. I’ve never seen Griffin Mandeville act the way he has with any other woman.”

  I stayed silent.

  She laughed. “You’re all class, refusing to ask, so I’ll tell you so you don’t have to feel guilty for prying. His dates are usually of the same variety—different hair color, different backgrounds, different heights, but all with elegant figures, physically graceful… until they open their mouths. I think most of them tried to hide their true personalities around him. All very docile and “yes, Griffin,” “anything, Griffin”,” she mocked, shooting me a smirk, and reminding me she had a bite to her. “I think some of them were genuinely infatuated with him. He’s very handsome. But most of them were intimidated by him and really only after his money. I can’t remember any of them lasting more than a few weeks, tops.”

  Poor Griffin, I mused. I guessed he’d actually never really known if a woman was sleeping with him for his money or not.

  “Then there is you. You’ve been together, what? Over two months and counting? A new record. And you’re actually old lovers, reunited, so it’s technically longer than two months. And I hope you won’t mind me saying so, Melanie, but you don’t have an elegant figure—that’s not an insult.” She hurried to say, dragging her gaze down my figure. I was wearing the white tennis dress again. “You have the kind of figure women have started paying surgeons to create. It’s remarkable really and I’m quite envious.”

  Esme, envious of me? I guffawed. “You’re beautiful.”