Liar, Liar (15 page)

“Hey,” I reply, just as quietly. “How have you been?” I ask, wanting the awkward tension in the room to dissipate. 

“Not very good,” she answers honestly, and I nod, knowing I haven’t been faring well myself.  “Have you got time to talk?”

“Take a seat.”  I gesture to the chair between us.  She walks to it, while I round the desk and take my seat.

“I,” she starts and then stops, glancing around the room, for inspiration, for courage.  She takes a deep breath to steel herself and then she looks directly at me.  “I’m sorry, Benny.  For everything.  I am really, truly sorry that I hurt you, that I betrayed your trust, and that I lied to you by omission.  It was never my intent to hurt you at all, in any way.  I know I did, and for that, I apologize.” 

“You took advantage of my trust, yes, but my anger was misplaced.  You were hired to do a job, and my anger should have been more firmly directed at the person who was doing the hiring,” I say.  “You woke me up, Makenna.  You made me see the man I always knew I was destined to be.  Spending time with you was like a breath of fresh air after what I had been living the past decade, so I grabbed hold of it and didn’t want to let it go.  You gave me courage, even though you probably didn’t know it, and you gave me strength to do something I didn’t think I was capable of doing.  Knowing what it was like to be with someone genuine, remembering that freedom, gave me the nerve to file for divorce, even knowing the shit storm I would face.  I did it anyway,” I tell her.

“I didn’t give Regina the correct file,” she admits, and I blink slowly, shocked.

“You didn’t?”

She shakes her head.  “No.  She didn’t deserve it. 
You
didn’t deserve it.”

The fact that she sacrificed her career, her reputation, her business, and her morals strikes me somewhere deep in my chest.

“Please don’t give up on me,” she whispers across the desk, her voice floating through the air, thick with emotion, as her eyes fill with unshed tears. 

My gut clenches.  My fingers itch to comfort her. 

“Please, Benny.  Please don’t give up.”  Her plea squeezes my heart, stealing my breath.  I can’t take my eyes off her. 

God, she’s beautiful.

“Perhaps we should start again,” I suggest quietly.  A small grin tugs at my lips when I see the hope light up her eyes.

“Hi, I’m Makenna Banks.  I’m a single, twenty-nine-year-old investigator at
Catturati
.  I own the business with my childhood friend, Mitchell, and I have no family worth mentioning,” she rushes out.

“Nice to meet you, Makenna.  I’m Benny Duncan, CEO of Duncan Realtors.  I’m thirty-three years old and soon to be divorced.”  I give her a grin and she visibly swoons as her eyes find my dimples.

I know we have a lot to work through, and the trust will need to be rebuilt, but the connection we have is worth exploring, it is worth building and nurturing.  One thing I know for sure is a life without love is nothing, and a love worth anything is worth fighting for.

Oh, fuck
.

My heart stops and my hand flies to my chest to rub the sudden ache away.

I love Makenna.

I love her.

I love her.

Just like that, my cock jerks in my pants and I want her again.

“Stand up,” I order.  She stands, fear, hesitation, and want shining bright in her eyes.

“Come here.”  My voice is rough.  She rounds my desk and stops in front of me.  Me looking up at her, her looking down to me.

“We’re going to celebrate.”

She climbs on my lap, lowers her mouth to mine, and we celebrate in the best way.

“And that’s a wrap,” I mutter to myself, as I flick through the photographs on my camera.  I tuck the device, securing it in its holder and then start my car and drive off.   My life before Benny would have seen me go home, upload my pictures on my laptop, and then begin compiling the report for the client.  It wouldn’t have mattered it was a Friday evening; I had nothing better to do anyhow.

But, now I have Benny.  And tonight he is taking me to
D’Tre’s
, and I don’t have to pay!

So, I hightail it home, because I’ve got a little black dress calling my name, and a man who is picking me up in just ninety minutes.

***

My hair is swept up and to the side, falling down over my left shoulder.  My eyes are smoky and my lips dewy.  The black dress that has been hanging in my closet for close to two years, unworn, fits me like a glove.  The fabric cuts across my chest and leads to a full sleeve, tight to my wrist, where the other side goes directly under my arm, making it strapless.  It fits me snug to just above my knees.  On my feet are a pair of black T-bar sandals with three-inch heel. 

The knock comes on my door just as I’m placing my phone in my black clutch.  I give myself a once over in the mirror beside the door, pop my lips, and then slowly pull the door open.

Benny stands before me looking entirely delectable.  He’s wearing a black suit with white shirt and a dark grey tie.  His hair is styled in that messy chic way that suits him so well, and he’s wearing a smirk that shows his dimples. 

His eyes travel down my body, taking me in, and then he finds my gaze again and whispers, “You look… incredible.”

The sheer amount of awe in his voice has my stomach clenching in the most delicious way.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.”  I grin back at him.

“If we stand here any longer, I’m afraid we’ll miss our reservation altogether, baby, because I’m about to drag you back inside and have my wicked way with you.”

My knees tremble and suddenly, I think I can go without dinner at
D’Tre’s
tonight.  Seeing the contemplation in my eyes, he tugs me into his arms and kisses me deeply, his tongue sweeping inside in slow, lazy movements.  Savoring.  Me, my taste. 
Us.
  As he holds me closer and closer to his body, plastering my front to his, I grip his shoulder and run my fingers up through his hair as his hands go to my ass.  I feel his erection on my stomach and now, more than ever, I want him to take me back inside and ravish me. 

The door clicks closed and I realize he has maneuvered us back inside without my knowing.

“No dinner?” I ask, my breath a pant.

“Turn around.  Hands on the sofa,” he commands, his voice rough.  I do as I’m told, placing my palms on the back of my suede lounge.

His fingers graze at the back of my knees, travelling upward with slow precision.  When he reaches my dress, he gently glides it up my legs until it bunches around my behind.

As he exposes my naked butt, I hear him suck in a short, sharp breath.  He palms my ass before issuing a sharp slap that has me moaning.

“I like this, Makenna.  No panties.  For me?” he murmurs, still palming my flesh.

“Yes,” I whisper hoarsely.

“Mmm, I like it a lot.”  He issues another slap that has my skin singing, and then his fingers travel down and in, way in, until he finds the slick wetness he created.

Sliding two fingers inside of me, he finger fucks me slow and steady until I’m whimpering, and then he begins to speed up.  I grip the sofa, bowing my head and letting my body submit to the pleasure he is giving. 

“That feels so good,” I pant brokenly.  “Right there, oh god,” I moan as his fingers graze the tender bundle of nerves deep inside.  As my stomach coils in preparation for release, his other hand joins the fun and begins rubbing my clit vigorously. 

His fingers fucking me and circling my clit has me hurtling over the edge and I cry out his name as I pulse around him.

As the final trembles leave my body, he slides his digits from my pussy and brings to his mouth, sucking my essence off them as his eyes stay glued to mine.  At the erotic act, another quiver ripples through me and I’m sure I just had a mini orgasm.

“That was hot,” I whisper.

“You’re fucking irresistible,” he mutters as he takes my mouth again.  I taste my flavor on him, mixed with one that is all his own and I sigh. 
Perfection.

“Go and fix your lipstick, baby.  Then we’ve got to get out of here.”

I straighten my dress and make my way into the bathroom to fix my makeup.

We arrive at
D’Tre’s
just in time for our reservation, and the meal was fantastic.  But it had nothing to do with me not paying, or the fabulous service or the awesome food.  It was all to do with the man I was eating with.

***

“Fuck yeah, baby.  Ride me, Makenna,” Benny growls.

“Yes,” I hiss, my head falling back as my hands go to my breasts and I give my nipples a squeeze.  The tremor of pain and pleasure radiates through my body and centers on my clit so I grind down into his pelvis.

“Ride me,” he commands roughly, his palm connecting with my ass.

“Oh, god, yes,” I breathe as I slide down, engulfing his cock in my depths.

“Mouth,” he rasps, and I lean forward, kissing him sloppily as my concentration revolves around our connection.

“Benny,” I beg.  “Baby.”  My orgasm approaches and my breath hitches.  “Feels so good.”  I build up speed, riding him hard, rocking faster.  “Yes.”

“You going to come, Makenna?” he growls.

“Yes,” I moan.

“Then come,” he orders roughly.

I do.  I fly apart at the seams, shuddering as I rock and moan, grinding into him to prolong my release.

As I come down, kissing his neck lazily, he grips my hips and begins pounding into me from below.  I grab his shoulders, holding tightly as he drives himself toward his own release.  He grunts and growls into my ear as sweat trickles down his forehead.  His eyes find mine, determined and smoldering.

“I love your cock,” I whisper, and his eyes heat hotter.

“You fit me so,
so
good,” I moan.  “I love the way you make me feel when you’re inside me.”

“Keep going,” he rasps.

“I want you any way I can have you.  I love you in my mouth, the way you taste.  I love the way you make my pussy so wet.  Just for you.”

“Just for me,” he growls breathlessly, his orgasm nearing.

“Just for you,” I whisper as I reach behind and fist his tight sac. 

With a guttural roar, he stills and I feel his cock jerk inside me as he comes hard.

When we regain our breathing, I climb off him, whimpering at the loss of him, and quickly make my way into my bathroom to clean up.  Once I’m done, I climb back into bed with him and he curls me into his side.

As I idly run my fingers through the light smattering of hair on his chest, I can’t help but marvel at how far we have come.  We are two people who were drawn together by a lie, who were torn apart by a lie, but who were bought back together again by love.

“Thanks for tonight,” I whisper to the darkness.

“Anytime, beautiful,” he murmurs.

As I fall asleep in his arms, I can’t help but say a little prayer to whoever is responsible for bringing me such a fantastic guy.  I may have had a shitty childhood and even shittier parents, but I certainly lucked out when it came to Benny Duncan.

“I love you,” I say softly.

“I love you, Makenna.”  He kisses my temple and I drift off.

(6 months later)

Dressed in fitted white pants with a black silk blouse and white jacket over the top, I walk through the doors of
Catturati.

“Morning, Josephine,” I chirp with a smile.

“Good morning, Ms. Banks.  Here are your messages.  I’ll bring your coffee in shortly.”

“Thank you.  Oh, and Josephine,” I pause to glance through the stack of messages in my hands.

“Yes, Ms. Banks?”

“I just wanted you to know I have no issue with you conducting a relationship with Mitchell.  In fact, I encourage it,” I tell her honestly, smiling when her shoulders slump with relief.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“Don’t mention it.”

I sit down at my desk and fire up my laptop.  I’ve got a meeting with a new client in less than an hour, so I haven’t got long to reply to emails and return phone calls.  I flick through the messages again, noticing one in particular from Officer Whitlock. 

Unable to resist, I dial the number and wait for him to answer.

“Whitlock,” he answers.

“Officer, Makenna Banks returning your call.”

“Makenna, hope you’ve been well,” he begins, and I want to ask him to forgo the small talk, but that would be rude.  We chat for a few minutes until he finally gets around to why he made contact with me.

“You asked me to keep you updated on Juliette Maas’ progress.  She called me recently and asked me to pass on the following message to you.   Ms. Maas completed her term of treatment at the institute she was referred to, and following an extended stay at her own volition, she is now living a happy, healthy life a few states away.  She has a great group of friends and is dating.  She wishes you all the very best, and she is genuinely sorry for any harm she caused you.”

“That’s fantastic,” I beam.

“It is good news, ma’am.”

“Thank you for calling.  If you ever speak with her again, please wish her all the very best from me.”

“Goodbye, Ms. Banks.”

“Goodbye, Officer.”

I replace the phone in the dock and get on with returning emails and calls until my newest client arrives.

***

“Hey, baby, how was your day?” I ask Benny, smiling up at him.  He gives me a grin and his dimples dent his cheeks in that way I love.  Then he lowers his lips to mine and kisses me softly.  Sweetly.  Oh so tenderly.

“Good, beautiful.  How was yours?” 

“Busy and productive as always.”

His phone rings in his hand and he glances down.  His brows pulls together and his lips purse.

“Sorry, babe.  I’ve got to take this,” he apologizes with a grimace.

“That’s okay.  You want a beer?”

He nods and then brings his phone to his ear.  As I pour myself a glass of wine and pop the cap from Benny’s beer, I overhear his tense conversation.

“I don’t care,” he snarls.  “You do whatever you have to do, but I guarantee if you’re hoping for any other outcome than what is current, you’ll be sorely disappointed.”

I wonder who he is talking to?

“If you’re so obsessed with that lifestyle, then perhaps
you
should have been the one to marry into that family.  Create your own fucking drama, because I’m tired of you using me to get ahead in your pathetic little society games.”

There is a pause of silence and I sip my wine, unsure of whether to take his beer into him or to wait until he comes to me.

“You are unbelievable,” he hisses.  “You should be happy that I am happy.  You should be fucking ecstatic that your only son, your only
child,
has rid himself of the weight that was drowning him.  Instead, you’re too concerned with your own pity party to realize that I’m the happiest I’ve been in a fucking long while.”

He must be talking to his parents
.

“I’m done,” he says, finality ringing through the air.  “I am
so
done with your fucking shit.  You want to try and take the business from me, go ahead.  But I’m done with you and your fucking bullshit head games.”

“
Fucking bitch!”
he roars before I hear something crash in the other room.  Instantly, without me telling me to, my feet race out of the kitchen and into the main room where he is standing, his fingers threaded through his hair.

“Is everything okay?” I ask tentatively.

He looks over to me and sighs wearily. “Come here.”

I immediately walk to him, stopping only when my chest touches his.  My head tips back and I look into his defeated eyes.

“That was my mother.  I guess she’s been hoping I would come to my senses and change my mind before the divorce was finalized.  But since things didn’t go her way and everything was signed off today, she decided to call me and tell me what a disappointment I was.”

“Wow,” I gape.

“Yeah,” he says through a humorless bark of laughter.  “Rather than congratulate me, or ask if I’m okay, she’s more concerned about the effect this will have on her and my father, and what their friends will think.”  His lip curls in disgust.

“I don’t know what to say,” I murmur helplessly.  “You are such a better person than she is.  I don’t even know the woman, and I never want to meet her,” I tell him honestly.  “Though, I figure she can’t be all bad, seeing as she created you.”

He grins, which makes me smile.

“I love you, you know that?” he says.

“I love your dimples,” I tell him. 

“That it?” he scoffs, feigning horror.

“And your eyes.  They’re the perfect blend of chocolate and light, providing depth and warmth, but also transparency.  You can see the sincerity in your eyes,” I say.

“So my eyes and my dimples…. that it?”

“Your cock,” I whisper seductively.  “I
love
your cock.  What you can do with it, the way it makes me feel, the way you bring me undone.  Though, that’s your hips, your fingers, your mouth, your
teeth
.  So, I guess, I love all of you.”

“Mm,” he growls.  “You love my cock?”

“Uh-huh.”

“My cock loves you, too, baby.”

“Perhaps he should show me how much loves me?” I suggest.

“With pleasure.”

He lifts me up and I squeal through my laughter as he walks us into my bedroom and tosses me on the bed.  Then he proceeds to show me just how much his cock loves me.  As my body convulses around him, and he jerks inside of me, he leans down to my ear and tells me just how much his
soul
loves mine.  I swear to god, I hear angels singing.  This man is a revelation.  The best.

And he is mine.

***

Two Years Later

My dress is simple but elegant. 

Timeless. 

The perfect dress for the perfect day.

Ivory lace.

Champagne silk.

Crystal diamantes.

The dress sweeps the floor, and the train extends just a little longer.

My shoes are ivory sling-back pumps, the toe adorned with diamantes to match the ones sprinkled throughout the skirt of my dress and my train.

Perfection.

My hair is pulled up into an intricate bun that appears effortless, but in reality took three hours in the hairdresser’s chair to bring to fruition.  Loose tendrils frame my face, highlighting the light, whimsical makeup the artist applied.

Perfection.

The day was just beautiful.

Fall.

Outdoors.

Dusk.

White roses.

Fairy lights placed strategically around the grounds, weaved through the weeping wisteria, all to give that romantic vibe it succeeded in doing.

The guests were just as we wanted.

Those we love.

Not many, but the few we love most dearly.

As he swore to love me until the day we leave this earth, I believed every word he said, because every word was spoken from the depths of his soul.  I knew this, because when I recited my own vows, they came from the exact same place his did.

Deep.

So deep inside of me, in the place that he owns completely.

The part of my soul where only the truth lies.

He is my husband.

I am his wife.

***

BENNY

Some people are worth having in your life, and some people aren’t.  It’s ironic that it took me almost thirty-four years on this earth, a marriage to a woman I can’t stand, divorcing that woman, and finding the one I want to spend my life with to realize this simplest simplicity.

Life is short, we need to surround ourselves with people who we
want
in our lives.  Why spend each day trying to please people who simply can’t be pleased?

For years, I tried this, and every day I failed.  I failed to please Regina, her parents, my parents.  But most importantly, I failed to please
me.
  It wasn’t until Makenna came along, like the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, that I began to appreciate the value of myself.  What I’m worth.  Rather than beat me down and mold me into the man she thinks I should be, Makenna encourages me to be the man
I
want to be.  She appreciates and celebrates me in any way I come.  We should all strive to find the person who does that for us, because those are the people we want to share the journey of life with.

The day after my divorce to Regina was finalized, my parents threatened to kick me out of the business.  I encouraged them to go ahead and try.  I think the fact I wasn’t fighting back and I wasn’t heeding their demands had them stunned.  They haven’t contacted me since then, and to be honest, life is so much better without them in it.  Not having them constantly looking down their nose at my choices or sighing in disappointment when I displease them, has made for a relatively stress-free existence. 

Knowing Makenna won’t have to meet them and experience their elitist personalities pleases me greatly.  Sheltering her from their unrealistic expectations and judgmental ways is something I will continue to do for the rest of my life.  My lady is too pure for them.  She’s too good to be tainted by them.

***

“Babe, can you call Mitch and tell him I won’t be in at work today?” Makenna shouts from the bathroom.

“Already done that, beautiful,” I call back.

She is hunched over the toilet bowl, puking up last night’s dinner.

“Thank you,” she mutters before I hear her hurl again.  I fill a glass of water and bring it to her.  Her large stomach rests on her thighs as she hugs the ceramic bowl.

“Ugh,” she groans, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.  “I thought this would be over by now.”

“It’ll be over soon,” I assure her.  She has been one of the unlucky ones, according to our doctor, suffering from morning sickness throughout the entire pregnancy.  Now, with just two weeks to go until our son is born, I know she is wishing it all to be over.

She timidly sips the water and waddles into our bed, collapsing onto her side and arranging the humungous pillow down her body and between her legs.

“I’m so uncomfortable,” she moans.

Her whining might annoy some men, but not me.  I hate seeing my wife in distress.

“I’ll be back in a minute to rub your feet,” I tell her.

“You’re not going into the office?” she asks, a hint of hope in her tone.

“No, baby,” I  confirm gently.  “I’m spending the day with my wife.”

“Thank god.”  Her declaration has me grinning as I walk into the kitchen and phone Estelle while pouring myself a cup of coffee.

Just after we got married, we purchased a large home just out of the city.  It means a thirty minute commute each way to our offices, but given we both have the luxury of working from home if we need to, it was the ideal purchase.  With four bedrooms, two levels, and a large entertaining area, surrounded by lush gardens, we both knew instantly it was the place we wanted to buy.  To live in for a long time, to raise our children in.  It is a far cry from the ostentatious mansion in the gated community Regina insisted we live in when we married, but that wasn’t me.

This life, this home, this marriage. 

This is me.

The me I always knew I was destined to be.

THE END