Grand Lies (The Promise Duet Book 1)

by JC Hawke

  Everything inside me wants to say no, to demand that she doesn’t speak to him again, and cut off every male in her life. But that would be unfair, and she doesn’t deserve my bullshit jealousy right now. I nod my head. “I will be there when you meet with him.”

  She smiles up at me, but it disappears just as quick, a frown taking over her face. “So you are aware, I wasn’t asking. And what, you don’t trust me?”

  “I don’t trust him; I won’t have it any other way.”

  “I don’t know. You will put me off. Can Vinny come instead?”

  “No. Me or nobody. Send me the details and I will carve out some time.” I stare down at her, daring her to argue.

  I know she wants to.

  “Thank you, Mase,” she says, leaning in to kiss me. “Wait ten minutes, then come find me.”

  “Where are you going?” I grab her waist as she tries to escape the kitchen.

  “I have a surprise for you.” She smiles, backing out of the room.

  Nina

  He is exactly where I want him when I come back down the stairs. I moved the wingback chair to the open space between the dining table and lounge, and he seemed to presume what I wanted correctly. He sits gazing out on the incredible view wearing only his boxers, looking every bit of the powerful man he is.

  My heels click on the polished wood floors as I walk to the music console in the corner of the room. I find the song I want, watching him as he takes in the first few verses. It’s not until the beat drops, and his head falls back to the seat in anticipation that I make my way to him, my body moving forward with the thump of the music.

  The look on his face as I come into view sets my insides on fire, adrenaline rippling through me. It’s the only thing that keeps me standing.

  I saunter around the chair, stepping between his spread legs. Bending down, I give him one long, deep kiss.

  “No touching,” I whisper into his mouth.

  I hear his groan as I turn and walk to the floor-to-ceiling window. Dropping down into the splits, I lean back, falling to the floor with my back arched, legs still stretched wide. My eyes lock on his as my head tilts back and I roll my upper body with the music. His eyes are focused on the dip between my breasts and nothing else. That is until I give him my legs, lifting them together, I flip myself, rolling backwards until I’m a foot closer to him and on my knees, I plant my hands on the ground letting him see me as I swing my head around in sync with the roll of my hips.

  I bring my body to the ground in a slow, gentle grind, and I swear I hear him hiss. The music is so consuming that I can barely hear him, but the tension in the room tells me everything his words don’t.

  He wants me.

  I roll to my back, sucking my thumb into my mouth and moving it down my body until I reach the apex of my thighs, applying pressure through the lace onto my already sensitive clit. It makes me needy, hungry for him. I bring my legs out to the sides, rolling my body up so I’m back to doing the splits, but this time I give him the vantage point of my front. Pushing my legs behind me, I rise to my knees finally positioning myself between his legs, I look up at him expecting him to be looking at my semi-naked state, but instead of looking at my body, his eyes are locked with mine. A fire burning within them that has no signs of being put out.

  Mase

  She’s every man’s wet dream. A dream I never thought I wanted until Elliot thrust her into my world, and now that I’ve got her, legs spread wide for me on my penthouse floor, I plan to do everything in my power to fucking keep her.

  Her slender body rolls backwards in a move I didn’t know was humanly possible. It puts her on her knees, but still, she only gives me her back. I need her eyes. She drops her hands to the floor, putting her ass in the air for me to see, the lace of her underwear encasing the most perfectly pink pussy I have ever seen.

  Mine.

  My head ducks down, trying to follow her body as she grinds herself into my floorboards. The hiss that leaves me has me sitting back in the chair, my pointer finger running over my mouth as I try to look in control. Because inside, I’m ready to pounce.

  It would be so easy to take her like this. To slide up behind her and get lost in her heat. But the thought of missing something—it has me rooted to the spot.

  Like a caged animal I want to free her, taking her to the place she will find her release, yet right now, as I watch her dance for me, she mesmerises me. It only reminds me that this is her home, her true escape. Dancing is her passion.

  I work on a swallow as she flips to her back, dipping her thumb into her mouth she sucks, slowly drawing it between her lips before she trails it between her breasts and over her stomach and then lower. My cock throbs in appreciation, making me feel like a fucking teen again as precum leaks into my boxers.

  Her body lifts off the floor, her legs stretched wide until her sex is brushing the floor, and I swear she leaves a fucking wet mark.

  I roll my lips, the last thread of my control gone. Sitting forward as she pushes her legs out behind her, pulling herself to her knees and planting herself between my legs. My eyes lock on hers, and I swear more is said in that one look than any words have ever been spoken between us.

  The connection that we have between us is charged; there is no way she doesn’t feel this.

  Just as I lean in, she stands, spinning into me and dropping to my lap, her back to my front. She grasps my hands and places them on her thighs as she rolls her hips to the music. It’s all the control she gets before I take over, grabbing her tits and squeezing them hard. She moans, dropping her head to the side, giving me access to her neck.

  She smells fucking edible.

  I lick and suck down her throat as she writhes on my cock, finding the friction she needs.

  “Mase,” she whimpers.

  I want to reach between us, free myself from my boxers and slide straight into her, but that would end this all too soon. Instead, I lift her, making her squeal.

  “Shit, Mase!”

  “Stand,” I groan as I take hold of her calves, holding her legs strong on the arms of the chair. Once I know she has her balance, I slide down to the floor, keeping my head tilted back against the seat. “Turn around and put your knees where your feet are. Sit on my face, angel.”

  She does as I ask, lowering herself on shaky legs until her pussy is hovering above me. I dart my tongue out, licking my lips.

  I need to taste her.

  “You’re fucking perfect,” I say, running my nose along the lace.

  “Mase, please. I…”

  The sound of her underwear being torn from her hips cuts her off. I don’t give her a chance to complain, burying my face in her heat.

  She drops deeper onto me.

  “Oh my god.”

  She coats my lips. My chin. Yeah, my girl is wet for me. Grabbing her hips in a tight grip, I pull her on to me, urging her to work herself on my mouth. And she doesn’t shy away, rocking herself above me as I suck and fuck her with my tongue.

  The second I feel her tense I pull away, lifting her as I stand. I pull her back to my front and sit us as we were before, although this time I impale her on my cock before the backs of my thighs can hit the leather.

  “Fuck!” we both moan in unison.

  I pull her mouth to mine, kissing her over her shoulder as she begins to ride me. I let her have a few minutes of her torturously slow pace before I take over, my mouth losing hers as I take her hips and start to work her on me, meeting her ass with my thighs on every pump of my hips.

  “Ughhh, Massseee!” she shouts, dropping her head to my shoulder.

  I watch as her tits bounce, begging to be sucked. Pushing down the cups of her bra, I pinch the puckered tips between my fingers, twisting as I tease them.

  My vision starts to blur, and I blink rapidly, praying I can hold off. This can’t end. Knowing I can’t hold off, I wrap my arm around her front, cupping her at the pelvis and giving her the friction she needs. My other hand finds the back of her ne
ck, and then I let her have it, anchoring her in place as I ruthlessly pound into her.

  She comes around my cock at the same time I explode inside her, my teeth sinking into the flesh at her shoulder as my body trembles with my release.

  She sits dazed on my lap, her chest rising and falling just as rapidly as my own. I pull her against my chest, sitting us back in the seat, my cock still throbbing inside her as I try to find the words.

  “Nina,” I mutter, kissing her temple.

  “Shh.” She turns into me. “Take me to bed.”

  “What was your mum called?” she asks, her body sprawled out over me.

  We came to bed hours ago but are yet to go to sleep—hours of getting lost in each other’s bodies and easy conversation.

  “Ellis. Ellis Marie Lowell,” I tell her, watching as goosebumps coat her skin under my fingertips.

  “She was beautiful. I saw her picture in your office when I was snooping.”

  I smile at her honesty. “She was, and she would have loved you.”

  “I would have loved to have met her.”

  “She’s buried at Lowerwick. I could take you some time.” I have no idea why I would suggest that.

  I’ve not been to my mother’s grave in years. Don’t need to visit a piece of stone to be reminded that she is dead.

  She lifts her head, resting her chin on her fist. “She’s buried at the house?”

  “Yeah, we all have plots there. Kind of morbid, huh?” I laugh, awkwardly.

  “No, Mason, it’s perfect. I wish I had a place so special that I could call home. A beginning and an end. You have no idea how lucky you are to have that.”

  I skim a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Let me be your beginning and end.”

  She gives me a half smile, dipping her head and biting her lip. “I think I might reach out to my dad,” she says, surprising the shit out of me.

  “Yeah?”

  She shrugs. “Not yet, maybe after the showcase when things aren’t so crazy. Will you help me?”

  Hope blooms in my chest. The thought of making her happy bringing an obsessive need to make it happen. “With anything,” I promise her.

  “Hmm, there is one other thing.”

  “If it doesn’t involve my cock in your cunt I don’t want to know.”

  She laughs, rolling off me. I follow, positioning myself above her. “You said anything,” she proclaims.

  “I take it back.”

  “It’s your dad,” she says just as I line myself up with her entrance.

  “You’re fucking with me right now?”

  She pushes on my chest, rolling me off her. “He has an appointment tomorrow—I think Scarlet said it was at two—I need you to take him.”

  “No.”

  “It’s your sister’s birthday, and I am taking her out. Please,” she begs, mounting my waist.

  “Vinny can take him. I will take you girls to lunch.”

  “Mase.” She drops her head, hesitating. “It’s not my place, but I will be here next week, next month, next year. Scarlet, too. We’re not going anywhere, so push me away for crossing the line, but your father doesn’t have the luxury of time left in his life. He is a sick man, and it hurts to see you deny yourself something you need, something most never get. You can spend the next few years enjoying your father for what he is. A heartbroken man who very clearly adores his children.” I huff, looking away from her, but she takes my head in her hands, bringing my eyes back to hers. “Or you can deny yourself the love that you are so blessed to receive and live to regret your choices for the rest of your life. Because you will, I promise you. You’ll never forgive yourself for denying yourself this time.”

  “Nina, it’s not that simple. He did this to himself.”

  “It is that simple! That’s my point. He doesn’t have anyone to blame like you do. It’s all on him. Why add to that? He lost the love of his life, and surely you can see that he needs you now.” She closes her eyes briefly, tears coating her eyelids as she opens them, and it guts me. “I pray that one day I can honour these words because she probably doesn’t even deserve it, but when the time comes, I will be with my mother in her final breaths. After all she put me through, I can see past it. I can see it for what it is. She did what she thought was okay, just to survive. Her choices were selfish and callous at times, but I’m still here because she allowed me to be. I will hold her in her last breath like she did for my first. Because it’s the right thing to do. You have a dad who loves you. Please don’t waste that.”

  “Come here, baby.” I pull her to me, dragging us up the bed until she is straddling my hips and hugging my chest.

  How can this woman be so pure?

  After everything she has been through and continues to endure at the hands of her mother. I can only hope for that level of acceptance towards my own parent.

  “I will go with him tomorrow,” I tell her.

  “Do it for you, Mase, not for me.” She sighs into my chest.

  I am.

  16

  Mase

  George, my new receptionist.

  I’m unsure as to whether Sal is screwing with me with this one. When I arrived this morning to find him eagerly waiting at the doors of my office, I had to do a double take. Wearing his suit and bow tie, and shoes shinier than his forehead—which shines bright in its own right—the man was glowing.

  He managed to talk my ear off for the first half an hour, telling me about his mother who lives in Canterbury and his granny in the south. Jesus, I already know this one won’t last long, and he’s not even female.

  “Mr Lowell, your coffee,” he says, placing a mug on my desk. “I familiarised myself with your system, but I think we should change it. Your clients aren’t even logged in alphabetical order. It’s…” He makes a face, turning his head into his shoulder. “Truly offensive.”

  Pinching the bridge of my nose, I lean back in my chair, a headache already forming. “Do whatever you need to do, okay? Follow me.” I stand, walking around the desk and out to reception.

  “This here is a button you can press to feed me all important information. I prefer my employees to use it to avoid unnecessary interruptions.” I nod, hoping it reaffirms my point.

  “Oh, I find that very impersonal, Mr Lowell.”

  “Yes, exactly.” I pat his back, leaving him at the desk as I return to my office.

  The intercom buzzes not thirty seconds later. “I think we are going to get along famously, Mr Lowell.”

  I shake my head, a small smile tugging at my lip.

  “Ahh, you fucker,” Lance shouts, chucking his cards at Elliot.

  “Can you pricks go do that somewhere else? I’m trying to work here.”

  “Don’t give us that bull, you were looking at hotels in Moscow just now.” Charlie smiles, calling me out.

  The boys got here an hour ago, and the three of them are now sitting around my office sofas playing poker on the coffee table.

  “I’m trying to find somewhere to take Nina to watch the ballet,” I mutter, squinting at the screen.

  “In fucking Moscow?” Lance frowns, picking up the cards he threw after losing all his chips.

  “Does she even do ballet?” Elliot asks.

  “She told me last night that it was her dream to watch the ballet one day.”

  “So, take her to The Royal Opera House to see Swan Lake,” Elliot suggests, coming to stand behind me.

  “Oooo, I’ve been to The Royal Opera House. Swan Lake. Swoon. Liam took me for my birthday. So romantic.”

  Did he just say swoon out loud? And why the fuck is he just walking into my office without knocking?

  “What is it, George?”

  “I’m just leaving for lunch. Hi guys!” He waves to the others.

  “Actually, before you go, George. This is your boss, Elliot Montgomery. You should run all your queries through him from now on, and these are our friends, Charlie and Lance.”

  He takes his time walking around the room,
shaking their hands.

  “Is that The Bolshoi?” George asks in surprise, moving to stand at my back. He peers down over my shoulder to get a better look at my screen.

  “It is.” I look up at him. “Have you been?”

  “Absolutely not. It’s in Russia. It’s one of the most prestigious ballets in the world.”

  “Useful. Thank you, George.”

  “Are you going? To Russia?” he asks, excited.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Of course, but if you’re trying to impress a lady. Which I presume you are judging by the roses you had me send this morning.” He brazenly leans over me, typing on my keyboard. I don’t miss the look Elliot gives the boys. “Then it’s got to be Paris. The Palais Garnier,” he says, standing. “It’s not got quite the allure that The Bolshoi has from the outside, but the interior, history and atmosphere is unbeatable.” He smiles triumphantly. “I will see you after lunch. Anything you need whilst I am out?”

  “No, George, that will be all.” I want to thank him, but then the little shit will think I’m going soft on him.

  “So, Paris?” Charlie asks.

  “I will be taking the jet on Friday; you won’t be using it?” I ask Elliot.

  “Nope, all yours, mate.” He grins.

  My finger taps on the steering wheel as I contemplate what to say to my dad. We’ve barely spoken a word on the drive and we’re now only a few minutes away from the hospital.

  “I appreciate you taking the time today, son.”

  “It’s Scar’s birthday, she shouldn’t have to go to the hospital,” I say, not taking my eyes off the road and not meaning to sound so harsh.

  I don’t want to be angry at him.

  “You’re right. Although you know how she is.”

  I do. My sister would never allow my father to go to an appointment alone. She doesn’t have a bad bone in her body.