Filthy Beautiful Lies (Filthy Beautiful Lies #1) (9 page)

Seeing Sophie after her run – breathing hard from exertion and pink as a berry makes me want things I told myself I couldn’t have. She’s not really mine, so none of this should matter to me, yet it does, tremendously.

I head to my office, needing to relieve some sexual tension. It would be so easy to fall into familiar routines. I could make one phone call – fuck, I could even just send a one-line text and have Marta back over here, ready and willing to suck me off. Lord knows she’d do it. Probably drop everything and jump at the chance. Though it’d been a long ass time since we’d done anything like that, the way she still occasionally looks at me, her eyes wandering over my toned chest and abs told me she’d be up for some genital-on-genital contact. Even after I’d told her that despite what had happened in the past, she and I needed to remain on a professional level, she’d kept herself single all these years, waiting, silently watching my relationship with Stella build, and then fall apart. But I knew if I made that call, I wouldn’t get the satisfaction I was seeking, and I’d end up feeling worse. Regret would churn somewhere deep inside me.  I didn’t want Marta. I wanted Sophie. And ever since my life – or at least my love life – went down the tubes two years ago, I vowed to live life with no regrets, so it was back to the original plan.

This line of thinking reminds me of the conversation I had with Sophie the other night. Her sister’s illness, just like my previous harrowing experience puts your life into perspective. It makes you weigh the things in your life, and put everything under a microscope – what you’re doing, how you spend your days. After I found out the truth about Stella, I could have easily spiraled into a heavy-drinking male whore. Instead I threw myself further into my work and my charity.  Doing anything else would have put me on the same level as her. And I wanted to be better than that, shit, I
needed
it.

My brothers’ conversation
comes flashing back to the forefront. They were shocked to hear I wasn’t sleeping with Sophie, but they don’t know the half of it. They’d be stunned to learn I haven’t had a single partner in two years – that I’ve been living a celibate life, devoting myself only to my work. They’d be even more shocked to learn that Stella wasn’t the one still holding things up between us. I was. And I had my reasons. Reasons I hoped to figure out and finally deal with soon. Maybe then I can finally put the past behind me and build a future –a concept that both excites and scares the fuck out of me.

I sink down into my office chair and click on my computer.

The first order of business is to get some sexual relief.

After I emerge from my shower, scrubbed clean and hair neatly combed, I dress and head downstairs to find Colton. Every little insignificant moment we share – like earlier in the mudroom when I refused his offer for new shoes and he looked at me with reverence in his eyes, like I was some strange creature he’d never before encountered, I can feel us growing closer. Our connection, however odd and undefined, is growing deeper with each passing day I spend here. It’s the last thing I expected. And my attraction to him is off the charts, making my body’s reactions more intense and harder to ignore. 

When I near his office, I hear voices from within.
Is someone in there with him?
The door’s been left partially open, so I knock once and push it the rest of the way open, registering the sounds just as I enter the room. Dual feminine moaning coming from his computer. He clicks a button on his keyboard, silencing the noise in an instant.
Oh my god. Was he watching porn?
He’s seated at his desk in the huge leather chair, but his face gives nothing away. His eyes smoldering on mine are the only thing I can see.

My face heats with the secret knowledge that while I’d been upstairs in his shower, he’d snuck down here to watch some girl on girl action. Was he pleasuring himself here in the confines of his office?
Don’t look down
. I refuse to let my eyes fall to his lap. My curiosity is going to get me in trouble someday. What he does in here is his business. But if he has needs and desires, why not just come to me like he did in the beginning? Surely even a bad blowjob is better than his own hand, right? Apparently not. The rejection stings more than it has any right too. But the strange notion that he’s cheating on me worms its way into my head – however irrational.

"
Did you need something?" he asks, his voice deep and slightly breathless.

"
I…" Why had I come down here? When I didn’t find him in the kitchen, or the den, my feet led me to his office. There was no denying I looked forward to his company in the evenings. I pause and start again. "I was just wondering why you’re home early."

He lets out a heavy sigh pushes his hands into his hair.
"I had something I wanted to take care of."

As soon as
he’s says it, my mind dives into the gutter. Had he come home early to do this?

"
Are you hungry?" he asks, his posture straightening.

"
Sure."

He rises from the desk and leads me to the dining room. Apparently we aren’t going to discuss his failed masturbation attempt, or that I’d overheard him watching porn.

"Have a seat," he says, motioning to the dining table. "I’ll be right back."

Normally we carry the dinner dishes that Beth leaves for us together into the dining room, but
him serving me feels nice. I pull out my usual chair, the one next to his spot at the head of the table, and plop myself down.

Colton soon returns with our plates and glasses of sparkling water, topped with sliced lemon. After my run, I feel like I can eat just about anything, but the food smells amazing.

We each dig in, the comfortable silence of routine settling over us.

At night is the time I have to ask him questions and get inside his head a bit. I’m pondering what to ask him about tonight when I notice him frowning at me.

"Why aren’t you eating?" he asks.

I look down at the pasta primavera on my plate. He’s right. I’ve barely touched it.

"Is everything okay with your sister?" he asks, setting his own fork down beside his plate.

I take a sip of water and lick my lips.
"Yeah. Things are okay. She starts her first round of treatment this week."

He nods thoughtfully.

I can’t help but think I’ve infiltrated his life, his routines, with my own baggage. Maybe I should never have told him about Becca, because the way he looks at me now is like a sad, exploited girl.

"
Do you regret bringing me here?" I blurt.

"
Why would I?" he asks, his brows drawing together.

Because you haven’t laid a finger on me in days, because you bought me to take my virginity and I’m still as pure as they come?
I shrug. "Nevermind, forget I said anything." An uncomfortable silence fills the room and we each continue picking at the food on our plates. "So, I’ve been wondering. Why don’t you don’t have a girlfriend?" I ask next.

He takes a sip of his drink, stalling for time.

Sophie is watching me expectantly, waiting to hear about my relationship status. It’s not something I’m ready to discuss with her
now, or possibly ever. Every damn muscle in my body is strung so tight I feel like I’m going to spontaneously combust. I’d been distracted as fuck at work again today, and came home to get a little relief in the form of an orgasm. Only I’d failed at that too.    

I look up into the sweetest, most innocent pair of blue eyes I’ve ever seen and draw a shuddering breath. Sure, my last relationship had ended in disaster, but just because a beautiful, well-spoken, sweet woman is sharing my home, it shouldn’t turn me into a pile of hormonal goo at a basic question.

I need to man up. She’s seven years younger than me. I’d bought her for fuck’s sake. It makes me feel a bit like a creepy old man. Even though something tells me that’s not how she views me. No, when she looks at me I can see the pulse thrum in her neck, her cheeks blushing like a ripe berry. There is some chemical reaction, a basic attraction between us. She feels it. I feel it. Yet we both ignore it.

In my darker fantasies, I
’d eat a girl like her for breakfast, but as I’ve gotten to know her and forced myself to take things slow, a different side of me was emerging. He is kinder, more patient, and open to exploring the possibility of a woman in his life for the first time in a long time. I like him.

Sophie’s still watching me across the table, still waiting to hear my response about why I’m single.

"I guess no one’s caught my interest in a while," I answer. It’s the truth. I hadn’t been looking for anything serious. Regular sex was the only thing I was missing – hence my impulse buy at the auction. I’d been in San Francisco for business when I learned about the auction – and bored, or just lonely, I’d gone if only to see what the fuss was about. I never truly expected to walk away with a woman on my arm. But Sophie’s trusting eyes had implored mine, silently begging me to get her out of there. 

"
Come on, what’s the real reason you’re single?" she presses on.

"
Not discussing that."

"
Play along. Just let me in a little, and in turn, I’ll answer anything you want to know." She smiles adoringly, batting her eyelashes.

Her offer is enticing. I wouldn’t mind getting deeper inside her head. If she wants the truth, I’ll fill her in.
"In my experience women are interested in two things. Money and power."

She opens her mouth to protest and I hold up a hand stopping her.
"You wanted to know."

She motions for me to continue, then folds her hands in her lap.

"You can argue all you want, but I’m not just speaking about the women in my life. It’s biology. Have you ever studied evolutionary science?" She shakes her head. "Women are looking for the biggest, baddest caveman out there - a provider to protect her and her offspring. It’s simple science."

She seems to accept my line of thinking and I continue, after taking another swig of my drink. 

"They want a well-hung, devoted husband whose wealth can afford them the type of lifestyle they dream of. He works all day, slaving away to make a living while his trophy bride is fucking the pool boy."
Or gardener, as it were.
A kid barely out of high school who wouldn’t know what to do with his dick in his hand. "She has everything she ever dreamed of, but she gets bored spending her darling husband’s money all day and soon needs a new toy – something fun and dangerous to distract herself with. If it’s not the pool boy, then its pain pills and wine-spritzers at ten am. Trust me, Sophie, this is the world I grew up in. I know it well."

That last comment has her looking at me like she’s wondering about my own upbringing. Actually, my mom was so in love with my dad she never strayed, as far as I knew, and she passed away much too early. My dad was unfortunately the philanderer who couldn’t keep from humping his secretary.
Just another reason why I don’t believe in the sanctity of marriage. I’ve seen it fucked six ways from Sunday.

I’d done everything I could think of to make Stella happy. The finest clothes, expensive jewels, flashy cars, taking her on dream vacations, yet nothing made her truly happy. Even coming home from work early to surprise her – she’d complain that I was interrupting her afternoon ritual. It left me messed in the head. I couldn’t do a thing right where women were concerned.
Except in the bedroom. I never had any complaints there.

"
Men think women are complex – and they are – but for the most part, they want to be left the fuck alone with his credit card." I drop my napkin to the table and push away my plate, my appetite vanishing. 

Her posture straightens.
"That’s not true at all. Maybe for some women – some horrible, deceitful women, but for most, they want passion, to be desired, loved and cherished." Her voice drops, going all whisper soft, and I realize she’s giving me a glimpse at what she herself desires from a mate. 

"
Can I ask you a question?" I say.

She nods.

"When you asked if I regretted bringing you here…do you regret going to the auction? Coming home with me?"

"
No." Her voice is sure, steady. "I did what I had to do for my sister, and…" She drops her chin to her chest like she doesn’t want to continue.

I lift her chin with two fingers and force her eyes back up to mine.
"Tell me."

She swallows, the long column of her throat moving in a pretty way.
"This is going to sound weird."

"
Try me."

She draws a deep breath and releases it slowly.
"I’ve never had the luxury of time and space like this before – something just for me."

I can see what she means. Sleeping in and jogging and swimming every day has been good for her. Her skin is kissed in a sunbathed glow and her body is equal parts relaxed and toned. It’s a look that suits her.

Sophie fishes the lemon slice from her water glass and brings it to her lips, sucking the sour juice in the most distracting way.
Fuuuck
.

She sets the lemon slice down.
Thank God.
And continues. "I was always the twin sister of the girl who had cancer. I never had my own identity. And even though I’m not there yet, this time away has given me some much needed perspective. It’s like there is life beyond hospital rooms and the crippling stress. It’s making me see that I wasn’t even truly living before. And I should be. If Becca’s illness has taught me anything, it’s that life can be taken away from you in an instant. I’ve been wasting mine. And even though I don’t know what’s next, I know I don’t want to continue to live like I was."

It’s deeper than I intended her to go, but I like hearing all of her inner thoughts.
"What else?" I ask.

"
I want to have a career I’m passionate about, I want to fall in love, travel the world, make lasting friendships…You know, basically conquer the world and have the best life ever. I hope Becca is right alongside me, but even if I have to go it alone, I will. For her." She smiles sadly up at me.

"
Sounds like a brilliant plan. Let me know how I can help."

***

After dinner, I head over to Collins’ place for a mid-week drink with my brothers, needing the distraction. My cock feels like it’s about to explode every time I’m in the same room as Sophie.

I find them sitting outside by the pool, a bottle of expensive bourbon sitting on the table between them.
Seems like I’m not the only one having a long week.

I slide into the lounge chair and Pace hands me a glass, filling it generously with liquor.
"Bottoms up, baby."

"
What’s the occasion?" I ask.

Collins shrugs.
"Tatianna’s talking about wanting an engagement ring. Leaving pictures of huge diamond rings all over the damn house."

"
And?" I hadn’t realized their relationship was all that serious, even though she’s lived with him for about six months now. I figured it was more a relationship of convenience. When they started dating, she needed a place to stay, and he needed regular sex. Problem solved.

He looks down into his glass thoughtfully. 
"How are things going with the roomie?" Collins asks instead of answering.

"
Fine."

"
And how’s her job search going?"

"
Good."

Collins rolls his eyes. My one word responses aren’t going to fly with him. He started it though by dodging my question about Tatianna.

"Have you fucked her yet?" Pace asks, much less tactfully.

I choke on a swig of bourbon and clear my throat.
"No." My voice is gruff. It’s not that I haven’t thought about it. I have. Almost constantly. I imagine lifting her up with her ass in my hands until her legs hug my waist. Pressing my fingers to her warm center while biting the soft skin at her throat. The waiting and wanting is pure torture. Christ, I’m screwed. How did I not think this through when I brought her home?

"
No shit?" Both he and Collins turn to face me, like this is breaking news.

"
Please tell me you’re not still hung up on Stella," Collins asks, his sympathetic eyes locked on mine.

Fuck no. I’m not hung up on her. I’m just trying to do the right thing – without having one fucking clue what that means.

They watch me, cataloging my contemplative mood and Pace chews on his lower lip. "Seriously dude, Stella is ancient history, even if she refuses to get the fuck out of your life, there’s nothing wrong with moving on."

"
I know that," I grumble. I’ve told myself the same thing, over and over, yet some unknown force holds me back. Of course they don’t know it’s been two fucking years since I’ve been intimate with a woman, and being in such close proximity to a beautiful girl like Sophie is the worst kind of torture.

"
So, what’s the hold up, man? I’d be tapping that sweet pussy every night." Pace gives me a goofy grin.

"
She’s a virgin." As soon as I’ve said it, I want to take it back. It’s too intimate a piece of knowledge to share with them. It’s Sophie’s personal business. I don’t tell them how I’ve come to possess this information, or that I’d bought the right to that particular privilege; I just sit there staring down into my now empty glass, wondering if and when I’ll do something about it.

"
Wow." Collins says while Pace’s cocky grin widens.
Asshole
. "Not what I was expecting you to say," Collins continues, "I thought you’d feed us that line again about her being your buddy’s little sister."

Oh yeah. I’d almost forgotten the story I gave them. Just another testament to how messed up my head is right now.

"We all know things aren’t totally finished with Stella – so I’m not going to pretend like they are, but really, is that honestly what’s stopping you?" Pace asks, his eyes full of genuine confusion.

"
I don’t know." It’s partly that – partly that I’m not sure if Sophie wants me, or if I even deserve to take something so precious from her. Part of it is her innocence, the sweet way her eyes follow me around the room, her trusting nature, the selflessness she displayed to save her sister in the first place…she’s entirely too good for me to use for my own pleasure. I already feel guilty – but after, I know I’ll feel guilty as fuck. And even though I tell my brothers nearly everything – my participation at that auction is something I’ll take to the grave. Not for my own sake, but because I doubt Sophie would want anyone knowing she’d sold herself that way.

"
You need to figure it out, bro." Pace slaps me on the back before pouring another measure of liquor into my glass. "Otherwise I have a feeling you’re in for a massive case of blue balls."

He’s not kidding. I’m certain I have enough pent up semen to father three-quarters of the world’s population. My dick aches constantly and my brain swirls with thoughts I shouldn’t be having, but worst of all is the way my heart beats faster when she’s near and all my senses tune into her completely.

My life for the past two years has been a lesson in order and self-control. I worked hard, and logged long hours at the gym, but I haven’t been really living. Sophie's brought out a different side to me. Just the act of her curling around me at night had softened me, made me remember life wasn’t only about coping. There were things worth living for. I wanted more of that mixed in.