Текст книги "Lie to You"

Автор книги: J. C. Valentine

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

SIXTEEN

“You’re so fucking hot.” Rebel grunts as he shoves his way inside me, his hips taking up a brutal rhythm that’s sure to leave me walking funny for days.

Unable to wait for the car, we’ve managed to find a secluded area in a closed off section of the building, just beyond the reach of the ballroom. As soon as Rebel finished his speech, he retrieved me from the table and dragged me through a maze of hallways, climbing over red velvet ropes that served as poor barriers where Rebel was concerned.

He’s a determined lover. Once he sets his eyes on something he wants, he goes to any lengths necessary to get it. I love that about him. His desire for me is astonishing. That he’ll take me right here, in plain view of anyone who might venture this far from the party, risking his reputation and job just to have me, sends my pulse skyrocketing.

There’s nothing that turns me on more than a man who takes what he wants, damn the consequences.

“Harder, Rebel. Fuck me harder,” I pant, clawing my nails through his hair and fastening my legs tighter around his hips. My heels dig into his ass despite my best efforts to adjust the angle, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. If anything, Rebel seems spurred on by it.

Maybe he’s a closet masochist. You certainly won’t hear me complaining. Anything that can get Rebel this hot and bothered will immediately be added to my to-do list.

Gripping my butt cheeks hard enough to bruise, Rebel pries them apart, his fingers so long they touch. He plays with both holes, spreading my juices along my crack. His cock plunges deeper, nudging my womb, as one finger traces my back door. A shiver races down my spine at the contact, and I push my hips back, pressing down to increase the pressure.

A current of electricity runs through us, building the longer and harder he pumps into me. As his finger plays with my puckered hole, his hips causing my back to slam into the concrete wall, I sink my teeth into his bottom lip.

It’s an aggressive act, but he loves it. His agonized groan morphs into a rolling growl of pleasure and I feel his cock thicken inside me. It spurs my own excitement. Without a barrier between us, I can feel every hard ridge of his length as it drills into me. I picture it, long and wide, plundering my depths, and grow breathless.

“I want to come down your throat,” Rebel says roughly, his lips hot and moist against the side of my neck. I shake my head furiously. That’s not what I want. “But your pussy is gripping me like a fist. I’m going to come, pussycat. Tell me where you want it.”

“Inside,” I gasp, trembling, my head falling back against the wall as his teeth skim across my jawline.

“I’m going to fill you up,” he promises. “I’m going to pump every last drop into your sweet cunt until it’s dripping down your thighs.” I moan at the mental image he’s given me. I love when he talks dirty. “You ready for it, pussycat? Are you ready to be filled?”

My eyes squeezed shut, I nod. Frantically, my body chases its own release. The finish line is in sight, but I know, if I don’t hurry, I’ll miss my chance. It’s a flat out race. My heart is beating so hard it feels as if it might burst from my chest, and I’m breathing so fast and hard my mouth goes dry.

Fingers digging into my ass, Rebel grunts, his hips thrusting harder, his movements growing slower as he pulls me down on him, hard, and slams up into me at the same time. Burying his face in the side of my neck, his body stiffens, and I feel him unload inside me in hot bursts. A shudder racks him and he exhales a heavy breath.

Hips continuing to move lazily, Rebel strokes me from the inside until he grows flaccid and his semen leaches past him, soaking us both.

When he finally pulls free of me and sets me back on my feet, I feel dazed. It’s the best sex I’ve had in ages. Since the hotel definitely. It doesn’t even matter that I didn’t finish. This time, the connection counted for so much more.

“Shit,” Rebel curses roundly. I glance up from righting my clothes to see him rubbing furiously at his fly.

“What’s wrong? Did you catch the beans above the frank?” I say with a teasing smile.

Despite himself, the corners of his mouth turn up, taking the edge off his scowl. “There’s cum all over the front of my pants.”

I glance down, seeing the chalky white remnants of our lovemaking…and laugh. “Oh damn. There goes your ‘making a phone call’ excuse.”

“I’m glad you find this so funny. Now what the hell am I going to do?”

“Scrub it off?”

“And look like I pissed my pants? No, thanks.” He tries again to scrub away the evidence with the palm of his hand. When it won’t come out, he throws his hands into the air. “Fuck.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s what got you into this predicament,” I say with a smirk.

Rebel glares at me, but there’s no heat behind it. He’s annoyed, yes, but it’s more at the situation than anything.

“Look at it this way. You’re not the one sticky with cum. My thighs are literally coated in ejaculate. If I go back in there, everyone is going to smell it on me the second I walk through the door.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Rebel decides.

Deeming his suit pants a lost cause, he reaches for me, winding his arm around my waist and pulling me up against his broad chest. I can still feel his heartbeat thrumming against mine.

Weaving his fingers through my hair and cupping the back of my head, he looks me in the eyes. “Maybe it makes me a callous bastard, but I like knowing you smell like me. I want every man in that room to take one look at you and know you belong to me.”

“You’re a caveman,” I laugh. Rising up on my toes, I kiss the underside of his chin.

“If I am, then you bring it out of me.”

My laughter subsides as I stare up at this man who continues to throw me off balance. “Every time I think I have a handle on you…” I shake my head. “I can’t figure you out, Rebel. You’re such a bastard sometimes, and then…” Then there’s tonight, when he’s not.

“I’m glad I can still keep you on your toes,” Rebel says, flashing me his perfect row of teeth. “What do you say we get out of here? I’m keen to make good on those promises.”

I’m reminded of what he said in the car, about taking me home and fucking me blind. I’m suddenly eager to find out what that feels like. Who needs all five senses anyway?

“Don’t you have to say goodbye?” I ask.

“It’s the polite thing to do, but I’ll just have my assistant send a note to everyone in the morning. Right after she books an extra seat on the plane.” His eyebrows lift up, challenging me to argue.

Lucky for him, he’s caught me in a vulnerable moment. I chuckle, unable to believe I am about to say this. “Fine, whatever. Set it up.”

“I knew you’d come around. A little dick always makes you more agreeable.”

“You’re so crude,” I say as I reach for my phone. I guess this means I have to call Kota and tell him I won’t be coming in. My hand hits air and my head jerks down to inspect the bare space where my purse should be. “Damn it, I lost my purse.”

Rebel’s brows pull down. “Where did you see it last?”

I think about it. “I don’t know. The bathroom maybe. Or the table. I might have left it back at my seat.” He whisked me away after his speech so fast, I hardly had time to think beyond my raging hormones.

“Come on.” Taking my hand, he pulls me along beside him. He’s walking so fast, I have to double-time it to keep up.

“What about your pants?” I ask, breathless.

“Stay in front of me.”

“Okay.” At least he’s not sending me in alone.

As we reach the main hallway, Rebel falls back, allowing me to take the lead. The men at the door eye us suspiciously when we return. At least that’s how it feels anyway. It could just be my guilty conscience, but I swear they can smell the sex on me. Smiling tightly, I hurry into the ballroom, Rebel hot on my heels.

“Scott,” Jack Donnelly calls out as we approach the table. “You’re just in time for dessert.”

Spotting my purse on the table, I release a sigh of relief. Rebel plants himself behind me as I bend to retrieve it, his hand resting lightly on my hip.

“Sorry, Jack. We’re going to pass on dessert. Josephine isn’t feeling well, so we’re going to take off early.”

Startled by his excuse, I shoot upright and pass him a bewildered look. His expression is stiff, unyielding, and silently informs me to play along. Clearing my throat, I scramble to catch up.

Mr. Donnelly and his wife send me matching looks of concern. “What’s wrong, dear? I hope it’s not the food.”

“Oh, no,” I hastily assure them. “I think it’s just a cold or something. Nothing that won’t pass with a little rest.” I wave my hand through the air dismissively. No big deal.

“You do look a little flushed,” Mrs. Donnelly agrees. “Well, I hope you feel better soon.”

“Take care of this one, Scott,” Jack Donnelly says sternly as he heaves himself from his seat to extend his hand to Rebel. “I expect to see the two of you in Maine tomorrow. Holly has a wonderful dinner planned and a special show scheduled. The tickets have already been ordered and are non-refundable.” The warning in his voice is clear. Much like Rebel, Jack Donnelly won’t take no for an answer.

I wonder if that’s where Rebel learned it from, but then, I have a feeling that it’s more of an inherent quality.

“No worries, Jack. I wouldn’t dream of missing one of Holly’s famous dinners. We’ll be there,” Rebel says, giving Donnelly’s hand two firm pumps. “Are you ready to go?” he asks me then, already steering me away.

Craning my neck, I raise my hand in a halfhearted goodbye. “It was nice meeting you both,” I tell the Donnellys as we turn to leave.

Once we’re tucked away in the back of his car, Rebel relates the directions to my apartment to Gerardo. This time, I choose the seat beside him, curling into his side and resting my head on his shoulder.

I’d intended for this night to be very different. Instead, I got roped into not only forgiving Rebel and throwing out my plans to make him miserable, but now I’m headed to Maine in the morning. I have no idea how I let that one happen, except to say that sex is my kryptonite. It makes me stupid. At least I put Florence on notice. If that bitch knows what’s good for her, she’ll keep her distance.

But for as sideways as tonight went, I’m coming to find that I kind of enjoy the unexpected. Like Rebel said, he keeps me on my toes, and a man who can keep me on my toes is definitely one to watch out for.

SEVENTEEN

Rebel stands shirtless in my kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of hot coffee in his hand and a growing smile on his face.

“You look like hell,” he tells me as I stumble into the room and reach past him to pour myself a mug of the nectar-of-the-gods.

“Once again, you flatter me,” I remark flatly. The sun is barely up, so the fact that I am is mind-boggling. I’ve never been awake this early in my life, unless I failed to make it to bed the night before.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

“If you say that I wear hell well, I’m going to slap you. Fair warning,” I grumble, taking a sip of my coffee. I don’t have to look in a mirror to know that my hair is everywhere. After a night of endless sex, I’m sure I look a hot mess. It’s amazing how far we’ve come. Just a few short months ago, we’d be doing this in a hotel room, and instead of having coffee, Rebel’d be showing me the door. My how quickly times change.

Rebel chuckles as he turns to refill his mug. “The plane takes off at noon. After you shower, pack a bag, and then we’ll head over to my place so I can gather a few things.”

My face scrunches as I consider this. “I’ve never been out of the city before,” I tell him. “What does a girl pack when she’s going to Maine?”

Setting his cup aside, Rebel takes ahold of my wrists and pulls me over. “She packs light. Dresses. No panties. Bras are optional.”

“Why don’t I just go naked and save us the trouble.” Tilting his head, he purses his lips thoughtfully. Slapping my hand against his chest, I laugh. “I was joking!”

His mouth splits into a wide grin and he drops a kiss to my lips. Turning me away from him, he gives my shoulder a gentle push and slaps me on the ass. “Grab that shower. The car will be around to pick us up in twenty.”

As I’m showering, it dawns on me that I never got around to calling Kota last night. I was so wrapped up in the events of the evening that it completely slipped my mind. Once I’m dressed and ready, I locate my purse.

Digging through it, my fingers touch on four shades of lip gloss, a half-empty tube of lotion, a pair of tweezers, a comb, a handful of loose change and the mints I stole from the conference bathroom, but no phone. Instant panic sets in. Where the hell is my damn phone?

Couch cushions go flying as I jamb my hands into the sides of the sofa. I crawl around on my hands and knees, flattening my cheek to the floor to peer beneath the furniture, but I can’t find it anywhere. Muttering a slew of foul curses that would make a sailor blush, I fail to notice that I’m no longer alone.

“It’s as if you read my mind.” Rebel’s voice is gruff and trimmed with amusement. “You look good on your knees, pussycat.”

Throwing a look over my shoulder, I snipe, “Did you take my damn phone again?”

“No,” he says, his brows pulling together. “I gave it back to you before dinner, remember? What need would I have to take it back?”

“Since when do you need a reason to do the things you do?” I’m bitchy because it’s way too early in the morning and now I have to deal with a missing phone. If my boss was going to be pissed with me before, he’s seriously going to lose his shit now that I’ll be canceling this late in the day. Filling gaps in the schedule isn’t as easy as Rebel assumes. Even strippers have personal lives.

“I resent that implication,” he informs me as he moves through the living room and out of sight. Minutes later he returns, carrying my large overnight bag. “Forget the phone. You won’t need it anyway, and I’ll help you find it when we return. Right now, it’s time to move.”

Flattening my hands on the coffee table, I push myself up from the floor and plant my fists on my hips. “You packed my bag?”

“Well, it wasn’t going to pack itself.” Retrieving his wallet and suit jacket Rebel motions for me to join him at the front door.

“You don’t even know what I want to wear in Maine. And I still have to call my boss, drop the rent in the mailbox, and…and…”

“And it will get handled,” Rebel says patiently. “I’ll see to it myself.”

“How? You don’t have the numbers or anything!”

“Please, give me some credit, Josephine.” Taking out his phone, I watch as he dials out and gives instructions to someone on the other end of the line. When he’s done, he gives me a flat look and says, “See, all taken care of. Now let’s get out of here.”

“But how will they know...”

“Just shut your mouth and move your feet...please.”

I’m making excuses. I know it, and so does he. It’s a wonder Rebel’s being so calm right now, when normally I would expect him to turn snappy and condescending. He isn’t known for his patience, that’s for sure.

“Wow, did you wake up on the right side of the bed this morning or what?” I remark as I walk toward him. “You haven’t bitten my head off once today.”

His lips curl up and he meets me halfway as I rise up on my toes to kiss him. “There’re a few hours left in the day. Give it time.”

Mock growling, I reach past him to open the door. My smile fades as my attention latches onto the figure standing on the other side.

Brody’s smile is one of relief when he sees me. “J, where the hell have you been? I must’ve called you a hundred times last night.”

My mouth flaps open and closed a few times before I can string together a coherent sentence. “Uh, I lost my phone. What are you doing here?”

A tawny brow arches up. “I called. Many, many times. You didn’t answer. You’ve never failed to call me back before. I thought something happened to you.”

I’m acutely aware of Rebel lurking just behind the door. His dark gaze is fixed on me, and I can practically hear the admonishment hovering on his tongue. He’s a very territorial man, and I have no doubt he’s growing more agitated by the moment. That fluke of patience is wearing thin. The longer it takes for me to get rid of Brody the worse his temper is going to get.

“Well, here I am. Still breathing, talking. All my fingers and toes are still attached.”

Hurt flashes in Brody’s big brown eyes at my snappish reply and I want to kick myself. But it’s for his own good. The last thing I want this morning is to perform CPR on one of my best friends. “Damn, J, what’s with the attitude? I can’t check up on you now?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I close my eyes and sigh deeply. “Yes, you can. I don’t mean to be a bitch, but I was just heading out. I have a…thing I have to get to and I can’t be late.”

“What kind of thing?”

That’s when Rebel decides to make his presence known. I groan as he takes the door from my hand and pries it open, leveling Brody with the full weight of his intense stare.

Shock registers in Brody’s eyes when he looks up to see him. He banks it fast, burying it behind a cool exterior I’ve seen him use numerous times out on the football field when he’s facing down his opponents.

“What’s going on here, J?” he asks, sizing Rebel up with an equally hard and suspicious look.

I know what he’s thinking, and he’s not that far off, but he’s still not entirely right. “It’s not what you think, Brody.”

“Really? Because I’m thinking that it’s barely seven in the morning and Professor Scott is leaving your apartment.”

“Like I said, it’s not what it looks like,” I repeat, reluctant to explain my sex life with someone who wants to be a part of it but never will. Brody wants to be more than friends. At one time, I thought I might be able to give that to him, but now I know for certain that it’s never going to happen for us. I love him to death, but more as a family member than a boyfriend.

“You’re one of Josephine’s friends,” Rebel states. His voice is flat, unwelcoming, and I groan again.

Grabbing hold of Rebel’s bicep, I squeeze it firmly. “We don’t have time for this, Rebel. We’ll miss the flight.”

“Rebel? Flight?” Brody’s eyes leap to mine, questioning.

“Yeah, Rebel is Professor Scott’s brother. Look, I don’t have time to explain right now,” I tell him, pushing him back with a hand to his chest as I pull Rebel out the door behind me. “I’m going out of town for a couple days, but I promise we’ll catch up when I get back.”

“I don’t like this, J.” Brody’s expression is full of confusion, and who can blame him? He’s just been slapped with the same reality I was little more than a month ago—Ransom has a twin. I’m still struggling to get used to it myself, so I can only imagine how fast his head must be spinning right now.

“She didn’t ask for your opinion, frat boy,” Rebel tells him.

“Rebel!” I go from being cautiously optimistic to beyond irritated in a nanosecond. I may choose my words and actions wisely to avoid confrontation with him most days, but today is not one of them. I was trying to keep a bad situation from getting any worse, but he’s crossed a line.

Shouldering my bag, Rebel ignores my protest and wraps his hand around the back of my neck, using it to guide me toward the stairs.

Batting his hand away, I twist free of his hold and leave him standing there. Returning to Brody, I beg him with my eyes to understand.

“You’re going to just run off with that asshole?” Brody questions, his face tinged red from withholding his anger.

“I’m sorry for the way he treated you. He’s just upset with the situation,” I explain. “He’s not too keen on the idea of other men in my life. Just…don’t be mad, okay?”

His eyes narrow slightly. “Are you in trouble? Is this guy going to hurt you?”

“What the fuck did you just say?” Rebel starts back our way, but stops in his tracks when I hold my hand up.

Honestly, I hadn’t thought that’d really work. It feels like I’ve just discovered I have magical powers, like Cesar, The Dog Whisperer. Forcing myself to focus, I address Brody’s concerns. “No, he’d never hurt me. He’s not like that. He was caught off guard when he saw you, but it will be fine.”

“Let’s go, Josephine. The car is waiting.”

I hold up my hand again, impressed that it seems to still be effective. Although, I’m under no illusions that it will last much longer. Rebel is growing impatient.

“At least tell me where he’s taking you in case I have to file a missing person’s.”

I smirk. “We’re going to Maine for a couple days. I should be back by…” I look to Rebel.

“Monday morning. Maybe,” he bites out.

Good lord, he’s such a caveman. If I wasn’t so busy trying to keep the peace, I might find his behavior hot.

Who the hell am I kidding? I think everything about Rebel is hot. Even when he’s being rude, crude, and downright nasty. Being an asshole suits him.

Brody’s reluctance to let me leave pours off him, but he’s not in any position to make me stay and he knows it. Heaving a sigh, he scratches his fingers through his longish brown locks. His arm drops down to slap against his thigh. “Fine, whatever. If you say it’s cool, then cool. Just call me when you get there. Or use Morse code, smoke signals, whatever in case he decides to hold you prisoner or something.” His smile is crooked, one dimple making an appearance.

Throwing my arms around his narrow waist, I give him a quick squeeze and step back, keeping the contact short and sweet. Rebel may not like it, but he’ll have to deal. I’m making compromises for the both of us.

“Thank you,” I say softly. I can feel Brody’s eyes on me as I walk away, feel the sadness in them. I think I might be a terrible person.

I toss an apologetic look over my shoulder as I meet back up with Rebel, hoping Brody isn’t too upset with me. Rebel has a way of getting under a person’s skin, and not always in a good way. As if to drive home his dominance, Rebel replaces his hand at the base of my neck and steers me toward the stairs. Brody looks to be a cross between bewildered and two seconds from going nuclear.

Thankfully, the car is already waiting for us at the curb when we leave the building, just as Rebel promised. Gerardo stands at the rear, holding the door open for us. I climb in first, sliding over to allow Rebel room to get in. When he does, he’s wearing what I call his business face. It’s a perfectly blank mask, impenetrable. I have no clue what is going through his head, but I’m sure whatever it is, none of it is good.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I narrow my eyes at him. “You need to work on your manners.”

“What, I was supposed to be nice to that boy back there?” He scoffs, clearly thinking himself above the act of basic human decency.

“Brody is my friend. He deserves a little damn respect.”

“Brody is a horny little shit with his eyes on the wrong woman. What he deserves is my fist in his face.”

“Jesus, Rebel! What is wrong with you?” I can’t believe he’s being so vicious. After last night and this morning, I was beginning to think he’d turned over a new leaf. How foolish am I?

Rebel’s expression morphs into a mask of outrage. “What’s wrong with me? Let’s start with his assumption that I might hurt you. He’s lucky I didn’t hurt him, starting with his face!”

“Can you blame him? Look at how you’re acting. You’re being a crazy person, and why? Because he’s a man?”

“I told you to make sure no other men touch you,” Rebel snarls.

“Newsflash, Rebel,” I say smartly. “That’s an unrealistic expectation. There are going to be other men in my life and sometimes, they might touch me. Are you going to beat them all up?”

“If I have to.”

My eyes widen. “What if it was your dad? Would you hit him for touching me?”

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “That’s ridiculous.”

“And so are you. You know what your problem is, Rebel? You’re jealous. You’re so worried that another man is going to swoop in and take me out from under you that you’re missing the real issue.”

His dark eyes swoop up to meet mine, and I see the level of his anger. It’s deep and I get the immediate sense that it stems from something beyond me. I probably shouldn’t push, but I venture forward anyway.

“Do you know what happens to a bird if you hold on too tight?” I ask. “You crush its wings.”

“Bird analogies, really?” Rebel’s lip curls with annoyance.

“I happen to like birds,” I snap. “My point is if you spend all your time holding on so tight because you’re worried I’ll fly away, then you’ll never know what will happen if you let go.” He refuses to look at me, so leaving my seat, I close the gap between us and crawl onto his lap.

His entire body stiffens and his jaw flexes as he stares up at me, determined to be angry. I wouldn’t expect anything less. With a tender touch, I brush my fingers through his midnight hair. “I’ll tell you what would happen, Rebel. I’d come back.”

“You say that now,” he says, his voice a low rumble of doubt.

Shaking my head, I lower my forehead to his, close my eyes, and breathe him in. “Did I ever tell you what happened that night at your apartment?”

“Which part? When you accused me of fucking around with my boss?” His temperature rises, radiating through his clothes like a heat wave. “Or when you snuck into my brother’s room and fucked him to get even?”

I cringe. That’s not how it went, and this is not how I meant for that question to go. I decide not to address either of his questions for fear of getting any further off track, and press on. “After Ransom and I… Afterward, I left because I knew it wasn’t what I wanted. It wasn’t where I was supposed to be.”

Silence descends on us and I lift my head, biting my lip. I’m unsure of what Rebel’s reaction will be, but I know if ever there was a time, this is the time to say it. “I already told you I chose you, but that’s not all of it. I realized that night, despite everything, or maybe because of everything, that it was you. I chose you, Rebel, because there’s no other man for me. There never was.”