Текст книги "Things Liars Hide"

Автор книги: Sara Ney

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 8 страниц)

When our clothes fall to the carpet and the pile of fabric is discarded, I waste no time scooting to the center of Collin’s bed in my bra and panties. It’s been who knows how many months since anyone has touched me intimately, and my body is alive with everything for Collin.

He follows on all fours, crawling towards me from the foot of the bed, kissing his way up my leg, starting at my ankles, dusting kisses on the insides of my thighs that leave me trembling almost uncontrollably.

I spread my legs desperately, affording him easier access to all my sensitive spots, because let’s face it—it feels ah-freaking-mazing and my inner slut has apparently been unleashed.

I want it so bad.

I do everything but thrash my head around on the pillow as Collin’s mouth grazes my stomach at the same time his forefinger hooks itself under the seam of my sheer underwear. The rude asshole teases with a tug, releasing the elastic with a snap and leaves them on.

I touch his shoulders, urging him upward till he stops, his mouth latching onto my nipple through my bra, sucking and sucking and swirling his tongue until the mesh is soaked through.

“Oh j-jesus that f-feels…” Yeah. That good.

When our mouths finally meet, we’re tortured and aroused at the same time, noisily groaning our relief. His large, hard body is smooth and firm, and I can feel every inch of him.

Every solid inch.

He’s so hard.

His dick is so hard.

It feels s-so… so… oh god...

But I’m not relieved—not nearly—and won’t be until he gives me what we both want. Lord, listen to me, using words I’ve written in my own books—chapter seven, as a matter of fact.

Thank god I didn’t blurt it out loud. Then again, as I get to know him better, it would probably turn him on hearing me talk all smutty and dirty.

His skin is sweaty and warm and I want to lick him all over.

I want him to lick me all over. All. Over.

And then, as if reading my mind… he does.

Yes! Shit yes.

“Do you like that, baby?” he murmurs as his hot lips follow a path from my stomach to my clavicle. Normally I can’t stand tallking during sex—and I can’t stand the word baby—but coming from Collin? He can call me anything he wants. I am putty in his large, capable hands.

My overactive imagination kicks into overdrive as the sound of our panting and kissing fills the air. I do nothing but lie like a limp rag doll beneath him, raising my arms above my head and grabbing hold of the fluffy pillow.

“I knew it was you the moment I saw you.” His praises reach my soul, even as his mammoth hands worship my breasts. “You’re all I think about. Jesus, Tabitha, stop rocking your hips like that.”

But I don’t stop. I release the pillow, reaching my hands between our bodies to stroke him up and down through his boxer briefs. He’s long and ready and throbbing. “Why are we still wearing fucking clothes? Take these off.”

The wait is unbearable.

Agonizing.

I’m begging now. “Please, Collin, take them off.”

“You don’t have to fucking tell me twice.” He rolls off me to swiftly strip himself bare, and I do the same, fumbling to unclasp my bra and peel off my underwear, dropping them to the floor.

“I don’t know if I can wait.” Collin licks my ear lobe as he settles himself between my thighs, stiff in all the right places. I moan my appreciation—loudly—into the hollow of his neck when he rotates his pelvis, grinding into me, and press a kiss to his Adam’s apple. “I’m gonna make you come so hard.””

I want more.

He gives it to me.

Yes… Yes, Collin. More.

A distraction: that’s what she’s been for the past several weeks. I wanted her blonde, beautiful, and beneath me.

And now she’s here.

Her neck thrown back as my mouth eagerly imprints the smooth, bare skin of her shoulder, Tabitha’s golden hair spills across my pillow. I brush the hair out of her face, cupping her jawline with my palm.

My thumb strokes her bottom lip and I lower my chin until our lips meld together. Brush back and forth. Once. Twice.

I savor the feel of our naked bodies pressed together, impatient to feel her around my hardened cock, the pulsing between my legs almost un-fucking-bearable, wanting to dig in deep.

I don’t want to rush her, but—

“Condom, now. Collin, Collin,” she chants my name. “Enough playing around. I need it now.”

I give it to her then, sliding in and nailing her slow and fast and… motherfucker… Soft and hard and… fuck, Tabitha, right fucking there… Slick with sweat, the air thick with urgency, we move in sync, whispering. Demanding. Coaxing.

Gasping.

The fucking moaning never ends.

“Yes… oh, mmm, God, Collin… Collin… Uh! Oh god…”

“...Hold on tight to the headboard, baby... Fuck me, Tabitha, just like that…”

“…Right there… p-please don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t… stop…”

We’re raw. We’re tender.

We’re a walking, talking cliché.

Fuck. Yeah.

We settle into a pattern after our night together—meeting at Blooming Grounds during the work week; he works and I write. Laughing, talking. Dinners. Hiking.

Movies at his place.

Our feelings for each other grow; we ache.

We burn.

We hold hands, talk, kiss constantly. Cuddle.

Touch.

And have sex. Lots and lots of hot, incredible sex.

We make love, too.

Collin Keller is everything I’ve ever wanted—everything I’ve only fantasized about in writing.

B lare watched Adam from across the bedroom as he pulled off his shirt, stalked over, and pulled back the covers on his side of her bed. Sliding in, he reached over, trailing a hand down her bare stomach. “Tired?” he asked, kissing her shoulder.

“Yes and no,” she said, stretching like a feline alley cat, satisfied and content. “It was a long day.” Blare might have worked for her parents during the day, but she had a side project she worked on at night. Moonlighting as an artist was taking its toll.

Adam went further down her body, disappearing under the covers. “Sweetie, don’t you think it’s time to tell someone besides me?” His voice was tentative and unsure. He’d suggested it before, but… “I’m not ready. Give me time.”

“When will it be time, Blare? It’s been over a year.”

Blare stiffened under his inquisition, but softened immediately when his fingers… did that thing... right… there…in that spot… “Yes. I know. I will, but I have to be the one to tell, okay? Promise you won’t say anything.”

He kissed her neck. Nipped at her breasts. Licked in that spot that drove her absolutely wild.

“Baby, I promise.” Adam kissed her abs. Her belly button. “You can trust me. I won’t tell a soul….”

Blare lost herself in him then as he worshiped her body. Loving him.

Trusting him...

“Greyson tells me you’ve been spending shit tons of time with my sister. That’s a big change from her avoiding you at your party.” That’s something I’ve always respected about Cal since he started dating Greyson; he doesn’t fuck around. When he wants to know something, he asks—he doesn’t beat around the bush, and he’s not passive aggressive.

But that doesn’t mean I have to give him a full shakedown of my personal business.

I glance over my shoulder in the direction of the restrooms, where the girls have disappeared to. We’re at a bar in Calumet, the city where Cal attends an Ivy League university, and coordinated the trip for a weekend Greyson happened to be staying with him.

Win-win for all of us.

For Tabitha and me, it was like killing two birds with one stone, getting to visit them both at once. It’s also the first time our siblings will see us acting like an actual couple.

“Dude. Are you listening to me?” Cal prods me in the ribs.

“We’re having fun.”

Lot of sex. Lots of fun.

“We’re having fun?” He snorts, resting his elbows on the counter in the bar we’re sitting in. “Humor me and define fun, would you, because you say fun and all I hear is I’m banging your sister.”

Cal uses air quotes when he sarcastically intones the word fun.

He’s perceptive. Calculating. And clearly not amused.

I look him in the eye, tapping the bottom of the beer bottle in my hand against the counter. “Without getting into detail, Tabitha and I are friends—”

“It better not be friends with fucking benefits.”

“Would you let me finish?” Okay, initially I assumed he was going to be cool with me dating his sister, but now I’m not so sure. I tread lightly, choosing my next words carefully. Don’t get me wrong—Cal is cool guy and he’s perfect for Greyson, but he’s also built like a tank, has about thirty pounds on me, and I’ve literally watched him suckerpunch a guy between the eyes during a rugby match. So yeah. Pissing him off is not on the itinerary.

“Tabitha and I are friends. I’m not just physically attracted to her; I respect the shit out of her. Do you even know how amazing she is?” I take a swig of beer. “The minute I saw her, I just kn—why the fuck are you staring at me like that? Am I starting to sound like a goddamn pansy?”

Cal rolls his eyes. “The minute you saw her at your housewarming party?”

“No, man, the minute I saw her hiding behind a rack of chairs at Target, working herself up into a tizzy, wearing that cute pink hat. So fucking adorable.” I chuckle when Cal looks back at me, his brows scrunched into a confused scowl.

“My sister is not adorable. She overreacts to everything and is a giant pain in the…” He stops short when I cock an eyebrow.

He shakes his head, regathering his thoughts. “Look, I’m not going to start an argument with you. All I’m saying is you better not be playing around. She’s dated enough assholes; she doesn’t need to date another one.”

“Have you ever met your sister? Pretty sure she’d have my balls in a vise if I screwed her over.” Cal nods in agreement. I swallow what’s left in my beer bottle before waxing poetic. “So sweet I can barely stand it. Last night she surprised me with a—”

“Keller, stop.” My sister’s boyfriend curls his lips, disgusted. “You’ve obviously never seen her throw a hissy fit about having to chop fire wood on the weekends at our parents’ house.”

I scoff, unimpressed. “Puh-lease. You think that’s bad? I’ll counter a wood-chopping hissy fit and raise you one you’ve obviously never seen Greyson stuff eighteen marshmallows in her mouth at one time. Ask her to play Chubby Bunny with you once.”

Cal’s blue eyes widen. “Seriously? Eighteen marshmallows? Dude, what the fuck.”

“Yes, seriously. It’s a game they used to play at sleep-away camp. Then she’d come home and play it with her friends. It’s freakishly disturbing.” I grimace at the memory of my dainty, blonde-haired and bright-eyed little sister—my parents’ pride and joy—cramming white puff after white puff of fluffy marshmallow into her mouth as a teenager.

Like a boss.

My sister’s boyfriend snickers. “Well, being able to fit large objects in her mouth is a skill that comes in handy for us both—where can I send my thank-you letter?”

“Ha ha, real funny, asshole.”

Cal’s booming laughter echoes loudly, sounding unpracticed and rusty as the girls re-approach, Greyson taking the lead with Tabitha nipping at her heels.

She eyes us skeptically.

“What are you two laughing at?” Greyson asks, automatically shimmying up to Cal, her body contouring to his—like two puzzle pieces that were made to fit together. Her arm slips around his waist while narrowing those light hazel eyes at me.

My sister unattractively purses her lips.

“What? What did I do?” I ask. “What’s with the stink-eye?”

Those slits of hazel get thinner. “What did you tell him?”

I immediately grab a square white cocktail napkin from the center of the table, wad it up, and shove it in my mouth. “Chubby bunny.”

“Oh my god!” Greyson laughs and smacks me in the arm. Hard. “You shithead!”

I wad up another one. It joins the first. “Chubby. Bunny.”

“Stop it, Collin, or you’ll choke. I don’t want to have to call Mom and Dad from the hospital because you’re jamming napkins down your throat.”

“Hey, I was forced into it—we were comparing bratty sister stories.” My voice is muffled around the two napkins packed in my mouth. A white corner sticks out from between my lips as I continue. “He didn’t leave me any choice.”

I can’t tell by Tabitha’s neutral expression if she’s amused or appalled by my childish antics.

My sister grabs a cocktail napkin, balls it up in her fist, and throws it at me, laughing. “On second thought, here. Shove this one in your face, too. Maybe it’ll shut you up.” Greyson turns to Tabitha and rolls her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know what you see in him, and now I have to question your taste in men. For a grown man, sometimes he is so immature.”

Tabitha giggles.

Cal glances back and forth between his sister and me. “Wait. For real, you’re seeing each other? I thought you were full of shit before.”

“No. Why would you think I was full of shit?”

He glances at his sister. “I mean, I love you, Tabby, so no offense—I’m just not used to seeing you dating anyone. I was already in college when you were dating that douchebag baseball player, and even I knew he didn’t deserve you.”

I move closer to Tabitha, pull her in, and relax my hand on her hip. “Damn right he didn’t deserve her,” I add, even though I have no idea what baseball player he’s talking about. I make a mental note to ask about it later. “Your sister is incredible.”

“I know that, Collin. I’m just saying she’s dated some real dickshitters.”

“Not on purpose,” Tabitha points out, resting her head on my shoulder. I give her a squeeze. “Remember Bryan Rickman? He wasn’t completely horrible.”

Cal laughs. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you date him in ninth grade?”

“What’s your point?”

“That doesn’t count. You were fourteen.”

She narrows her bright blue eyes. “How do you even remember all this?”

Cal blushes, the gash on his face appearing even more severe. Chagrined, he mutters, “I may or may not have read your diary.” Tabitha hauls off and whacks him with her purse. “Ouch! I said I may have! Jeez! There’s no tangible proof that I actually did.”

“Okay, break it up you two,” Greyson referees, stepping in. “Go to your rooms.”

But Cal is on a roll and brings the conversation full circle. “Really though, I’m just curious—how did you end up hooking up in the first place?” He grimaces. “I didn’t mean hooking up. I meant talking.”

“Dating?” Tabitha clears her throat. “Well, coincidentally, we ran into each other one afternoon doing out-of-office work stuff. Sometimes I take everything to a coffee shop, sit with my laptop, and drink coffee.”

I agree. “Same. And that’s what we were doing when we bumped into each other before the housewarming—”

“He scared the crap out of me—” Tabitha interrupts.

“She had the most adorable panic attack and spilled coffee all over herself. All over her white shirt. I was hoping it would turn into a wet tee-shirt contest—”

“Shut up, you were making me nervous!”

“I was making you nervous? Pretty sure it was the other way around.”

“Oh my god, you are so sweet.” She pecks my cheek, excited, then speaks to her brother. “So he’s just standing there staring, right, which was weirding me out. I end up knocking everything off the table, including the proof of my book—”

“It just lands under the table,” I add with a knowing smirk.

Tabitha throws her arms in the air. “And what does he do? Nothing! Doesn’t say a word about it, the shithead.”

We entertain Greyson and Cal, volleying barbs.

“What was I supposed to do? I had to get your attention somehow. Pocketing the book you wrote was the best way to do it…”

“Well, you didn’t have to steal it and hold it hostage so I’d go out with you.” She slaps my arm playfully, squeezing my bicep in the process. I flex. “It was so rude. He used it to blackmail me into going on our first date.”

“Puh-lease, don’t even act like you were going to say no—”

“I was going to say no! You were so annoying.” She punctuates this pronouncement with a kiss to my jawline before enthusiastically prattling on. “He was purposely trying to embarrass me. He even read out loud from chapter ten when we met up. I finally agreed to meet him because I really needed it back.”

Lost in our own stream of babbling nonsense, neither of us realizes why Calvin and Greyson are staring at us, slack-jawed.

Wait.

Why the fuck are they staring at us like that?

Was it something we said? Did we….

Oh shit.

Oh. Fucking. Shit.

I squeeze Tabitha’s waist, prodding her to stop talking. In her excitement, she doesn’t even realize we blurted out her secret. That with her rambling, she’s giving away her secret, too.

Cal holds his palm up to stop us. “Back up. Did you guys just say the book she wrote? What book? Who wrote it?”

I feign ignorance. “Did we say that?”

“Yes, jackhole, you did.” He looks point blank at his sister, a dark cloud descending on his expression. “Tabby, did you write a novel?”

“Uh…” She stands frozen, rooted to the floor, stunned. “Oh my god. I told, didn’t I? Collin, please tell me I didn’t just…”

Silence.

Followed by the inevitable.

Tabitha pulls away, unfolding herself from my body. I try to stop her by grabbing her upper arm, but she surprises me by giving me a shove so hard I stumble back a few steps. “Tabitha, it just slipped out. Babe, calm down—”

“Just slipped out! Just slipped out? Oh my god, I was going on and on about it! I’m such an idiot. An idiot!” She throws her arms in the air, defeated, and turns to confront me, poking me in the chest with the tip of an index finger, ignoring her brother and my sister. Angry. Frustrated. “One year, Collin. One. Year. Twelve months. Fifty-two weeks. That’s how long I’ve kept my novel a secret.” She stomps away, huffing and muttering to herself before stomping back. “Everyone is going to hate me for lying! How am I going to look my parents in the eye, and see my grandma on the weekend after they find out? They’re going to think I’m a… a… Collin, I just told everyone the secret I’ve been keeping from them for an entire year!”

“Well, not everyone. Mom and Dad aren’t here,” her brother interjects, trying to be helpful.

“Shut up, Calvin. This is between me and Collin,” Tabitha admonishes with a loud shriek. Okay, maybe it’s not a shriek, exactly, but it’s definitely a cross between a scream and a whine.

Whoa, nelly, calm down.

She seriously needs to chill.

I’m not a complete idiot, so I compress my mouth shut, determined to power through her tirade.

“This was my well-guarded secret. How could I have been so stupid? What was I thinking! God, why didn’t I just tell you no when you asked me out the first time? This never would have happened. I’m such an idiot.”

Wait. Is she blaming me?

“Tab, please. Calm down, sweetie, be reasonable. This is a good thing, can’t you see it? I’m sorry, but maybe your brother knowing—”

“No. Forget it, Collin. This isn’t for you to decide. You don’t get to tell me to calm down.” She grabs her purse off the table.

“Tabitha, stop. Where the hell are you going?”

“I need time to think about what I’m gonna do. Alone.”

Except, we’re in a college town, staying with her brother for Christ’s sake, not back home where she can hitch a cab and go back to her place.

“Take me back to your apartment, Cal. I can’t sit in a car with him for three whole hours right now. Not just yet.” Tabitha drags her brother towards the door by the upper arm. “I just have to get out of here. Think.”

He’s powerless to fight her, instead launching an inquisition.

“What novel?” I hear Cal asks as he’s physically being led away. “Did you write a book, Tabby? Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”

“No.”

She’s so angry. At herself. At me.

Irrational.

From beside me, my sister places a caring hand gently on my forearm, reminding me of her presence. “So, I take it Tabitha wrote a novel and didn’t want to tell anyone?”

My head gives a jerky nod. “Yeah.”

“Wow.” Pause. “That is so… cool.”

“Yeah.”

“Why would she keep it a secret?”

My broad shoulders shrug feebly. “Because it’s romance. The slutty kind.”

“Wow,” Greyson repeats. “That is so… awesome.”

Tell me about it.

Grey rests her palm on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “This will blow over. You’ll see.” My sister’s words are quiet and slightly skeptical.

“Yeah.”

But even I don’t believe it.

Collin: Tabitha, would you please answer my calls? You barely spoke on the car ride home and you’re not responding to my texts. We need to talk.

Collin: Please. I’m so fucking sorry they found out that way, but it was bound to come out eventually.

Collin: Greyson told me that your brother told your parents. What did they say? Please call me back.

Collin: Did you get the roses I sent to your office? I didn’t want to be cheesy and I know you’re pissed, but the red, yellow, lavender, and peach roses say everything—please, Tabitha. Let me tell you in person how I feel about you. Please.

T abitha’s Notes for Book THREE, title to be determined. Titles I’m considering: THE BETRAYAL. Back cover blurb: Tarran felt betrayed by the world. By the one man she loved. Handsome and clever, the quick-witted devil had become her downfall. Because of him, the walls she’d so carefully erected around herself didn’t just fall; they imploded…