Twisted Truths & Leveled Lies

by Lessner, S. K.

  As if reading my mind again, he pulled back, tilting his head so he could look into my eyes. “I’ve never done this with anyone before, it’s incredible. Truthfully, I can’t pay attention to the fireworks when you’re so close to me.”

  My first reaction was to give him some space so he could enjoy the show, but that was clearly not what he was trying to tell me. As soon as I started to move, he leaned down, easing his lips onto mine.

  Momentarily stunned by the action, my body quickly overrode my brain and joined in. The softness of his full lips gently pressing against mine was too much. Opening slightly to invite him in, the sweet taste of mint gently slid from his mouth to mine as we deepened the kiss. Our tongues slowly found each other and began moving in an orchestrated dance. The kiss was slow and sensual, our bodies limp as we put everything we thought and felt into it.

  Exploring further, his hand slowly traced the skin along my neck, down my side, and to my waist, firmly pulling my body against his. I opened my eyes slightly only to find him looking through half-closed lids as well. We watched each other as our lips moved together, our tongues continuing their dance, the passion between us growing stronger, as we saw into the depths of each other’s gaze.

  Removing his arm from under my head, he gently lowered me back to the blanket while leaning his body partially on mine. Closing my eyes again I allowed my senses to take over, indulging in the heat of his body on mine, the pleasure igniting as he held himself firmly against me, and the need pulsing from his lips to mine. I reached one of my hands around his neck, lacing my fingers through his short hair, while my other hand rested on his chest as it flexed in my palm.

  Sensing his hand moving toward my breasts, my fingers tightened their hold, eagerly anticipating his touch. His fingertips lightly caressed the skin above my chest where the dress angled downward to the side, causing my back to arch into him, silently begging for more.

  We continued our languid exploration until our breathing became ragged. With sensual precision, he broke the kiss and delicately moved his lips to my neck, gently kissing a path toward his fingers that lingered near my breasts.

  The loud explosions of the firework finale broke our spell and brought us back to where we were. Suddenly stopping his downward progression, he looked up from where his head was positioned near my breasts. His lips slowly turned upward into a guilty little grin. I could only imagine what he was thinking considering where his body was positioned on mine. I knew my own thoughts were focused on his hardness pressing against my thigh and my imagination of where I wished his mouth would go next. The only thing separating us was the damn dress. Who needed clothes in public anyhow? I was ready to rip the thing off myself. Without breaking eye contact, we lay there speechless as our bodies tried to slow down.

  Biting my lip to control my thoughts, I smiled back. “I guess we missed the fireworks, huh?” I breathed. My hand was still locked behind his head, my fingers lightly threading through his hair.

  “We made our own.” He leaned forward to brush a kiss on the bare skin above my breast before sliding his body up to bring us face to face again.

  With the show finished, people started packing up their blankets and chairs and walking off the beach. Glancing sideways, it looked like the fair when it was closing and everyone decides to leave at the same time. Yet neither of us moved at all.

  Bringing my attention back to him, Miguel reached his hand out, playing with the hair along my face, and tracing his finger along my jawline. Without saying a word, we knew we weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  We lay there, softly touching each other, delighting in our small kisses. After the majority of people had left the area, we covered up with the extra blankets and talked about places we’d like to go, and things we’ve dreamed of doing. We laughed, we sighed, and we kissed some more.

  It was a battle not to let my body take over and devour the man next to me, something that was both shocking and pleasing to realize. But the way we continued to learn more about each other satisfied a different part inside me. A part I hadn’t realized was empty before.

  After nearly two hours on the beach, we decided to pack up and return to his car. This time we walked along the edge of the water as the waves gently rolled in and lapped at our feet. Miguel had his shoes and socks off, pants rolled up, and a magical look in his eyes. He looked every part of a model as he progressed down the beach. Multiple times I had the urge to pinch myself to see if someone as good looking and as attentive and affectionate as he was, was actually real. But I refused to let my past experiences cloud my judgement and ruin this moment.

  Every ten feet or so, we gave in to the urges and our bodies pulled into the others. We were two magnets, unable to stay away. Each kiss was slow and passionate, yet filled with such force, we had to pry ourselves apart. His hands traversed my upright body, his fingers sliding dangerously near my breasts. Unintentionally, I’d arch further into him, tempting him to touch them entirely. He didn’t. Every time I thought he would, he’d catch himself and slowly break the kiss. It was sweet torture - my body begging for more, his body clearly needing more.

  When we finally reached his car, it was only one of a handful of vehicles left. The roads were equally abandoned on our way home. People were still out in the city, but as we got closer to my house they were few and far between. I didn’t want the night to end. My body specifically demanded it not end. Sighing at the hopeless battle, I leaned my head back on the headrest and felt his hand playing lightly over the top of mine. Closing my eyes, I listened to the radio play softly as his fingertips wove a spell throughout my entire body.

  “Mel.” I heard him whisper near my ear and realized I had fallen asleep.

  Oh, please tell me I wasn’t drooling on my shoulder! Looking out the window, I saw that we were already parked in my driveway. I must have slept the past twenty minutes.

  “Sorry. I was so relaxed, I must have fallen asleep.” I said softly, trying to hide my embarrassment.

  “Don’t apologize.” He lifted my hand that was still intertwined with his and kissed the back before releasing me.

  He exited his door and walked around to open mine. Reaching inside, he grabbed the shoes that I had taken off, and helped me out by my hand. Without letting go, we walked hand in hand toward my house.

  “I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed tonight,” he said as we came to a stop outside my front door.

  Do I invite him inside? Of course I wanted to, but I didn’t want to seem easy either. Biting my lip in indecision, I reached into my purse to retrieve my keys.

  “I would like nothing more than to stay the night and hold you as you sleep.” He grinned as he spoke softly. He really must be a mind reader. Either that or I had my desires written all over my face. “But I don’t think I could handle the temptation tonight, Mel. I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want you.”

  Feeling a bit shy from his confession, and completely turned on, all I could say was, “Thank you.”

  He reached his arms around me and pulled me into his embrace. After holding me to him for a minute, he pulled back slightly, and looked into my eyes.

  “If we ever do anything more serious like that, I want it to be when we’re totally committed to one another. You are worth so much more than something quick. I want it to mean everything to both of us.”

  Like girlfriend boyfriend? Engaged? Oh my, was he a virgin? No, that couldn’t be.

  He didn’t give me much time to contemplate my theories. He leaned down and kissed me. Not just any kiss, but he poured himself into me. I don’t think he meant for it to be so intense, but we had been fighting it all evening, and finally gave in.

  My body instantly fell into his. If it weren’t for his arms around my waist, I would’ve fallen down. Holding me tightly, I could feel him growing against my stomach, as I arched further into him. His hands began to skim my lower back, his fingertips lightly gripping my ass. Releasing an involuntary moan, he suddenly propelled me back
against the door. Our mouths were ravenous as we devoured each other. Our tongues dueling, trying to get closer, our teeth gnashed as we shifted and pulled, pushed and strained, wishing our bodies could get even closer.

  Gasping, the lack of oxygen forced our mouths apart. Our eyes were burning into one another’s, absorbed in our hunger. Both our chest were rising and falling rapidly, trying to replace the oxygen and calm ourselves down. It was a silent understanding that we would wait, but our bodies refused to release one another. He continued caressing me, sliding his hands up my sides and cupping my heavy breasts. Without breaking eye contact, his thumbs slid from the underside, over my bulging breasts, and across my hardened peaks that were straining outward under my dress. Every nerve ending in my body ignited, fire burning throughout my core. My head fell back, my eyes closed, as I savored the way his touch ravaged my body.

  Realizing where we were headed, his hands stilled, but didn’t release their embrace. Bringing my head forward, he leaned his forehead against mine, closing his eyes as his breath rushed out. We remained in that position, allowing ourselves time to regain control.

  Slowly pulling back, he brought his hands up and gently cupped my face. With one last, small kiss, he stepped away, his arms falling to his sides.

  “Goodnight my sweet, beautiful Maelianna.”

  “Goodnight Miguel.”

  CHAPTER 5

  The next six weeks were extremely busy. It was now mid-August and we were finishing up the peak summer wedding season alongside the countless other events we took care of. My long-awaited vacation had been postponed since we were understaffed, but Miguel and I talked every day, making it well worth it. We usually spent a couple hours in conversation every night until one of us, or both, were falling asleep. He came by and took me to lunch a couple times a week, and over the weekends we found endless things to do together. We went to a couple plays, watched the symphony, played ridiculous amounts of games at the county fair, and spent many evenings walking along the beach. Other than work, we were inseparable. Either by phone or in person, we were always talking, laughing, telling stories, or just holding each other. It was becoming increasingly more difficult not to have sex, though. Even when we would just sit and talk, our hands would wander on their own and we’d find ourselves touching each other in intimate ways.

  Tonight we had plans to go to his place so he could cook me dinner. I was beyond ready to take our relationship to the next level, but I wondered if he was. He seemed to be the king of self-discipline. By now I understood how strictly he was raised, and how he viewed sex as a sacred ceremony. Preferably between a wife and husband, even though he had slipped a few times during college and given in. But with me, he wanted to wait. To do it right, as he put it. I respected his wishes, but my willpower was waning. I wanted to seduce the man.

  It wasn’t just physical. It was the intense connection we had when we were together. It was the feeling of being connected in everything we said and did. I wanted to know what it felt like to become one with the man I was falling in love with. I wanted to show him with my body what I couldn’t find the words to show him with my mouth.

  Other than a quick stop to his condo a couple weeks ago, we hadn’t spent any time there. Miguel had given me the security code to enter the complex, so after punching the numbers in, I opened the glass door and proceeded through the contemporary styled entry way. He lived in a modest high rise, his home being one of three at the top level of course. Yet, now knowing that he both inherited money and made a good amount himself, he never spoke or acted like I had assumed a man of wealth and good looks would have. He truly was a beautiful, gentle spirit with a heavy dose of sexy appeal on the outside.

  After taking the elevator up to the eleventh floor, the door opened swiftly, and I gasped. I was taken aback by the wall of mirrors in front of me. Giggling at my sudden surprise, and shaking my head at myself, the look on my face reflecting back to me was priceless. I really should’ve remembered those mirrors, but obviously we had been completely consumed by each other the last time I was there. I hadn’t noticed any of the decorations or designs in the building before.

  Remembering which one was his, I turned the corner and moved quickly to it, excited to start our evening. If I compared myself to Joan, I’d say I was bouncing down the hallway. The excited, nervous energy was racing through my body. Raising my hand to knock, I noticed an envelope taped to the door with my name on it.

  Upon opening it, I found a slip of paper that read: Please let yourself in when you arrive. My home is your home.

  Hmm, maybe, just maybe.

  Butterflies started skittering around in my stomach as I slowly opened the door. I wasn’t nervous to see him. I was nervous about the ideas I had after reading his note. The possibility that tonight we may be able to finally fulfill some of the fantasies I had.

  Entering his home, I was enveloped by glowing light that danced in the shadows, along the walls, and illuminated the rooms before me. The only light that appeared to be on was in the kitchen around the corner from the door.

  I quietly took my shoes off, sneaking to take a quick peak before I went to find him. The entire place was transformed into something magical. There were candles lit everywhere. From the entryway, down the hall, to the living room, there must have been over a hundred candles burning. If things didn’t work out with us down the road, I felt bad for any man who came after him. They would have some serious expectations to live up to now. I doubted it was even possible to come close.

  I was completely overwhelmed by his preparations. Following the sounds of sizzling food and pots and pans clanking, I went to the kitchen and leaned against the doorway to watch him cook. He was wearing tan khakis, a white dress shirt with the top buttons undone, no socks or shoes, and to top it all off, he had a pink apron with ruffles around the edges. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

  He must have noticed me admiring him, because the edge of his lips turned up into a sexy little grin while he finished stirring something in a large pot. Turning away from the stove, he sat his spoon down and pointed to the apron.

  “You like? I saw it today and thought of your promise to bake me your mother’s pies. So I had to get it. Figured I’d test it out tonight to make sure it’s suitable.” His grin grew into a full smile, his dimples enticing me to bite my lip and look him up and down again, this time allowing him to fully see my admiration of his body.

  “Oh, I like. Very much.” I sauntered over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. I was rewarded with a kiss to the nose and a reprimand.

  “Hey, no kissing the chef while he’s cooking. I’ll get all distracted and burn your food.” He laughed, the light rumble vibrating from his chest to mine.

  Reluctantly, I let go and went to the bar stool at the island to pout.

  Falling for my slight ability to act heartbroken, he came up behind me and wrapped me in his arms. “Okay, you win. You can kiss the chef whenever you want. But remember, I’m not to blame if the food turns out to be charcoal briskets instead of something actually edible.”

  He kissed the side of my neck then hurried back to the stove to stir the large pot.

  “So, do you need any help?”

  “If you’d like to make a salad, that’d be great. The lettuce and tomatoes are in the refrigerator.”

  “Sure.”

  I went over to the fridge and noticed how nice his appliances were. They were all stainless steel, and appeared to have been used very little, if at all. The kitchen itself looked hardly used.

  Taking a closer look around, I saw a beautiful oak table with six chairs. In the center of the table was an arrangement of flowers he had picked up at my shop a few days ago. He used his “need” for flowers as an excuse to come in every few days now. This was in addition to the other times we saw each other. He insisted he fell in love with flowers and was now addicted to having them at home to remind him of me everywhere he looked.

  Upon further inspection, I saw t
he flowers near the window, as well as, the ones that were a few days older sitting on the countertop. How many more did he have in the house?

  Confirming my observation, he cleared his throat and answered my unasked question. “There are also some in the bathroom, the guest room, the living room, and next to my bed.” He smiled guiltily, shrugging his shoulders before returning to his food, and began adding spices to the pot.

  Shaking my head at his absurd adorableness, I placed the salad items on the counter and went over to wrap my arms around his waist from behind. Leaning my head against his back, I squeezed him tightly and whispered, “You are an amazingly wonderful, but crazy man.”

  He turned his body so that we were more side-by-side, but still embracing, and leaned his head down to mine, pacifying me with a sweet, little kiss before returning to his cooking.

  “Well, I must agree with the crazy part. I seem to have lost all ability to function when you’re not with me.”

  I chuckled at his words and went to the island to start preparing the salad. Silly, sweet, romantic, crazy… he was absolutely wonderful and I wanted him to be completely mine in every way possible.

  After wooing me with his elite cooking abilities, and eating an incredible Mediterranean dinner, we went into the living room to relax. The room was decorated in beiges and browns with two oversized sofas in an L shape. A fire was burning in the corner as we sat down together on the sofa closest to it.

  Curling my legs underneath me, I sat sideways so I could face him. He lowered himself beside me and handed me one of the two glasses of wine he was carrying. I watched as the light danced across the crystal glass, illuminating his face perfectly.

  His chocolate brown eyes glistened, captivating me with the affection flowing from within. The sexy, pink apron had been removed prior to eating, leaving his slacks and dress shirt, but still no socks or shoes. I had learned weeks ago that the man hated shoes and only wore socks when necessary. It was such a contrast between his primarily proper manners and his more playful and relaxed side.