Filthy Beautiful Lies

by Kendall Ryan

  When she sees me approach, she smiles at me again. "Ready?"

  "I think so." I hold up an armful of undergarments. "But take your time." Today’s been all about me so far – something I’m not used to. She can browse if she wants. "That’s cute." I nod to the red demi bra she’s holding.

  "They don’t have my size." She shoves it back onto the rack and keeps looking.

  I gather my courage. "Marta?"

  "Hm?" she says, holding up a sequined tank top.

  "Who’s Stella?"

  Her eyes zip over to mine. "He told you about Stella?"

  Shit. Her accusatory tone and icy stare are too much, that, or my conscious is too big. My gaze drops down to the floor. "Not exactly. His brothers stopped by this morning, and her name might have come up." And his bedroom smells like stale perfume and one half of his closet seems like it’s been hastily emptied out, I mentally add.

  Marta continues perusing the rack of discounted bras, her brows pinched together like she’s recalling a bad memory. "He’s not been himself since Stella. She did a fucking number on him," she mutters under her breath.

  I can’t really imagine someone hurting the ever in control Colton Drake, but then again, I have no idea of his past, just like he has no idea of mine. But I intend to find out.

  Several hours later, Marta drops me off at Colton’s place. We bought so much, all of my shopping bags barely fit in her tiny backseat and trunk. Marta helps me carry them inside and up the stairs. She marches with purpose toward Colton’s bedroom, like it’s a familiar route. The little sting of curiosity is back. I also note that there’s no question about where I’m staying – she didn’t even pretend to assume it was in one of the guest rooms.

  She sets the bags down inside the mammoth closet and turns to face me. I offer to change out of the clothes she’s let me borrow for the day, but she waves me off.

  "Thanks for everything today."

  She nods. "Of course. As a friend of Colton’s, I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. And seriously, I meant what I said before – if you need anything – a friend to grab coffee with – or drinks, or just a female to talk to when he drives you insane…Call me."

  I accept her cell phone number, wondering what she means about him driving me insane.

  Once Marta leaves me alone, I feel a little awkward placing my clothes on the empty side of the closet once occupied by Stella’s stuff. But maybe that’s what Colton intends bringing me here – for me to replace whatever bad memories she left behind.

  If that’s what he wants, I’ll do it. Heaven knows I’m running from my own baggage too. I’m here for the money, but as the knot that had permanently taken up residence in my stomach lessens with each passing hour, I realize that’s not the only thing this new way of life can provide me.

  Being here in LA, in this mansion, brings a sense of relief from the constant worry and heartache I live with every day. I miss my family, well, mostly Becca and of course I worry about her health, but it’s not relentlessly churning in my head like before.

  I should feel guilty at this realization, but honestly, it’s a relief.

  Chapter Seven

  Colton

  Before we leave the country club, I stop in at the boutique gift shop. The frilly blue lace camisole and panty set hanging in the window catches my attention, making me recall Sophie’s pale blue panties from last night. And like a ship to a beacon of light, I find myself heading straight toward them.

  "Can I help you find something?" The sales girl asks from behind the counter, letting her gaze wander down my toned chest and halt at the area directly below my belt. "Something for your girlfriend, maybe?" she asks.

  Her subtlety is lacking. All she sees when she looks at me is a fat cock and a fatter wallet. If I’m at this club, it means I have money, but after the red headed monster from hell, it repulses me to think about ever being with a woman like that again. Just because she throws a pretty smile my way and would drop to her knees at my command doesn’t mean she can have my heart.

  Girls like her are only interested in the lifestyle I can provide them – the wealth, the status – not the man inside. Which is why I’m not interested in anything more than what I’ve arranged with Sophie. Clean and separate from the rest of me. Sex and intimacy have no place together.

  "I’m good, thank you." I know Marta will have everything covered today, but that doesn’t stop me from looking around while I wait for Pace and Collins to finish in the locker room. I’m hot and tired after playing thirty-six holes of golf – but I’d much rather shower at home where I can put on fresh clothes after, than here with a bunch of men. And I wasn’t joking when I told Sophie to be ready for me when I got home. Last night’s prelude wasn’t enough. I haven’t stopped thinking about her luscious mouth or perky tits once.

  Moving past the rows of silk panties and lacey camisoles I stop beside a display of lotions and oils. Grabbing one of the bottles, I head to the register to pay.

  "Nice choice," the cashier beams up at me.

  Ignoring her, I check my Rolex. I wonder if Sophie and Marta are back yet. The sales girl, obviously annoyed at my lack of attention, despite her skin tight top unbuttoned to show off the top of her bra, stuffs my purchase into a gift bag and shoves it at me.

  I find Pace and Collins in the grand foyer of the club, rehydrating with bottles of water. "You ready, ladies?" I ask.

  Collins tosses me a bottle of water. "Come on," he says to Pace, "we’ve got to get princess home in time for his blowjob."

  Yes, please.

  ***

  The house is silent when I return and I wander the rooms downstairs, checking the den and kitchen before heading upstairs. Disappointment courses through me at the idea that she’s not back yet. At least I can get a shower in before she returns. The least I can do is wash myself before I expect her to devour my cock.

  Stripping my shirt off over my head as I head toward my bedroom, I’m surprised to find Sophie sitting in the center of my bed with her phone in her lap and a frown on her face.

  "Everything okay?"

  She startles at my voice and drops her phone on the bed. Her gaze wanders lazily down my naked chest and her frowns falls away. Good girl.

  "It’s fine." She sets her phone beside her on the bedside table. I wonder if she was talking to someone from home again. "How was golf?"

  "Hot. I’m going to shower."

  She nods, her eyes not daring to stray from mine, though I can tell she’s drawn to my body.

  I wash quickly, without waiting for the water to warm, soaping up my chest, abs, under my arms and of course the parts of me I want her mouth on. Wrapping a towel around my hips, I enter the bedroom once again, but this time Sophie’s gone. The fuck? Apparently we needed to cover some ground rules. Like rule number one, be naked and waiting on my bed for me at all times.

  Releasing a frustrated sigh, I drop the towel and dress before heading downstairs to find her.

  Sophie’s sitting in the den, the same spot we sat last night. Her legs are curled under her and she’s holding a book in her lap. All I can think of when I enter this room is her on her knees in front of me, taking my dick deep into her warm mouth. Christ, it’s been way too long since I’ve been laid.

  Her eyes lift from the book and settle on mine when I sit down across from her.

  "Find something good?" I nod toward the book in her hands, which I assume has come from my personal library.

  "Charlotte Bronte." She holds up the cover of Wuthering Heights for me to see. It’s a dark and twisted love story. Story of my damn life.

  "Have you read it before?"

  "In high school. But I don’t remember much of it." Setting the book down on the cushion beside her, she folds her hands in her lap and looks at me expectantly. She’s curious about what’s going to happen next.

  "Are you hungry?" I surprise her by asking.

  She nods carefully. I’m starving after the long afternoon spent on the course and
when I reach for her hand, she carefully places her palm against mine. I tell myself that it’s important I get her comfortable with me, but in actuality, I just like touching her.

  I lead her into the kitchen. Sunday is the only day I don’t have a staff here to prepare meals, but Beth usually leaves me with enough leftovers to survive for one day without her. I find the fixings for club sandwiches left in plastic containers and labeled in Beth’s efficient script. Turkey, strips of crisp bacon, avocado spread, gruyere cheese, and thick slices of tomato marinated in vinaigrette.

  We assemble the sandwiches at the island and take our plates back into the den.

  "I’m curious about why you’re here…" I pause, watching her reaction. It’s obviously for the money, but I can’t figure out why a girl like Sophie would be desperate enough to sell herself. She’s a clean cut, normal girl by all outward appearances – I strongly doubt she has gambling debts or a drug addiction to fund. I take a bite of my sandwich and wait for her to answer. Honestly, I have mixed feelings about finding out more about her and making this personal, but I’m too damn curious not to ask.

  She seems hesitant at first and chews her food slowly, stalling for time. "My sister’s sick," she says softly, so soft I can barely hear her. "Her care is very expensive," she continues. It isn’t what I’m expecting and her honesty surprises me.

  "The money…it will help?" I ask.

  "Very much so," she whispers. I can tell she has mixed feelings about all this. As relieved as she seems at taking care of her sister, I sense there’s some lingering guilt about leaving home during a time of hardship.

  I have no intention of baring my soul as completely as she’s done. I can’t. I doubt she’d stick around if she knew the real reason she was here. And I’m certainly not ready to let her go, especially before I’ve fulfilled the promise of her sweet, tempting body.

  Her answer makes me feel the tiniest bit less selfish. I may have spent a million dollars to bring her here for my own egocentric needs, but knowing the money is going toward a worthy cause helps my conscious the slightest bit. "So you sold the only thing of value you had to save her." It’s more a statement than a question, but Sophie nods.

  She’s an interesting girl, and not at all how I assumed she’d be, watching her stand up on that auction block, defying us all by covering herself. She’s sweet and timid and something in me knows I should be careful with her. I recall the way she slept against me last night, letting me spoon my body around hers and gripping my thumb like a newborn clings to its mother once sleep finally found her. Her selfless choice to come live here with me, a virtual stranger, strikes something within me. She is fearless. A woman worth knowing.

  We eat in heavy silence, each of us seeming to process this new revelation about the nature of our relationship.

  "How did you lose your virginity?" she asks.

  I choke down the last bite of my sandwich and take a swig of water. Shit. Is she seriously asking me that? Though I suppose I’d rather answer questions about my past than explain why I’d bought her. "I was seventeen. On vacation in Italy with my family before I started my senior year of high school. I met a local girl and…" I lift one brow and Sophie chuckles. What more was there to say? It still brought a smile to my mouth to think of Luciana. She was four years older and not afraid of her raw sexuality. The sex had been phenomenal. Though to be fair, any sex would have been phenomenal to the seventeen-year old me.

  "How were things with Marta today? I trust you got everything you needed?"

  She nods. "Yes, thank you. Marta’s…nice."

  The way the word hesitantly rolls off her tongue tells me there’s more she wants to say.

  "She is," I confirm. She can also be tough as balls when she needs to be – which is why I trust her with my personal affairs. "She’s a regular around here. She’s in charge of my household staff and does any personal work I need her to as well."

  Her eyes lift to mine. "Are you sleeping with her?"

  "I don’t think that’s any of your business, Sophie." My voice holds the edge of a warning. Just because I’m being amiable and pleasant doesn’t mean I’m going to discuss my personal life with her and she might as well get used to that. She’s here for one purpose and maybe it’s time we both remembered that.

  Her gaze falls from mine and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

  "Do you remember what I said to you just before I left today?"

  She nods. "About my…my mouth."

  I lift a hand to her cheek and brush away a stray crumb of bread, letting my thumb rub against her lower lip. Her mouth parts at my touch and she sucks in a breath. I hold her eyes with mine, running my thumb along her plump bottom lip. "The only thing I want you worried about when it comes to my cock is how deep you can take it." The double entendre causes her chest to flush with heat.

  As a virgin, we both know my size will be difficult for her to accommodate at first. An idea that once bothered me, but now excites the fucking hell out of me. The challenge of her, the idea of being the first to conquer her, brings out the caveman-like instincts inside me. Big fucking time.

  "Go upstairs and get ready for me." I rise from the sofa and offer her my hand. She takes it and rises to her feet. Goddamn, the tiny jean shorts she’s in make her legs look too damn long. It’s impossible not to picture what they’d look like wrapped around my back as I pound into her. I watch her walk away, her round ass swaying softly as she retreats. Holy hell.

  After taking our plates to the kitchen, I join her upstairs.

  Sophie’s standing in the center of the room, looking completely lost like she’s waiting for my instruction. Just the way she looks at me makes me half hard. Christ.

  I enter the room and stop several feet in front of her. "Take off your top."

  She lifts the tank top from over her head and drops it on the floor beside her feet. Without waiting to be told, her fingers reach around to find the clasp to her bra and it too falls away. That’s a good girl.

  Her tits are gorgeous. Full C-cups and perky. I know they’d feel warm and weighty in my palms and my fingers itch to touch her soft curves. I’m all too aware that I haven’t touched her yet, but knowing that she’ll probably pull away or stiffen under my touch makes me hesitate. When I do finally touch her, I want her to arch into me and moan out my name.

  I strip off my own shirt and then pop open the button on my jeans to make more room for my growing cock. "Come here." I reach for her hand and she steps forward, sliding her palm against mine. Pulling her tightly against my chest, I circle one hand around the back of her neck, lifting her face to mine.

  I press my mouth to hers and her lips softly part, accepting me. I run my tongue along the seam of her mouth until she opens against me, then I sweep my tongue inside, claiming her with a deep kiss. Her body goes lax in my arms and I love the lush feel of her breasts flattening against my chest. The skin to skin contact is exquisite.

  My tongue rubs along hers and Sophie meets my kiss thrust for thrust. The intensity of the kiss sends a jab of lust straight to my groin. I’m unable to stop my hips from rocking into hers, my dick seeking friction against her warm belly. Not breaking our connection, I reach down and adjust myself, then find Sophie’s hand and bring it to the bulge in my jeans. Without any further coaxing, her hand begins rubbing my length encased in denim, coaxing a low rumble from my throat when she squeezes him.

  "Show me what that mouth can do again," I growl, breaking the kiss.

  She drops to her knees on the carpeting and blinks up at me. Fuck, she’s beautiful. The urge to reach down and fondle her tits, to feel her nipples harden under my touch is almost unbearable. But instead I undo my pants and I push the jeans and boxers down my legs, taking my cock in my right hand and offer it to Sophie.

  Her mouth opens and her eyes remain on mine. I have no idea why that’s such a turn on, but fuck, it is. I place the head of my cock between her lips and Sophie makes a soft sucking sound, the warmth of her tongue lapp
ing at me briefly before I pull myself away again. "Show me your tongue."

  She does, her flat, pink tongue waiting for me so enticingly. I rub the head of my dick against it, letting her saliva coat me and the sensitivity shoots straight to my balls. Pleasure rips through my veins and I stifle a groan. "That’s it. Open wider, baby."

  Her jaw widens and I push myself into the hot cavern of her mouth, taking every bit of pleasure she can give me. Pumping my hips forward, I bump the back of her throat, dragging myself in and out of her mouth.

  Sophie is a fucking champ at sucking dick. I hadn’t been exaggerating before. Her gag reflex is practically non-existent, a skill I haven’t encountered with many women, especially given my size. Her hands join the fun, wrapping firmly around my base and stroking as her mouth continues taking me deep. Good god this girl will be my undoing. I clench my ass muscles, fighting off the impending orgasm preparing to rip from my body. I’m going to come in her mouth again, and there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it.

  I growl out her name and tangle my hands in her hair, pushing myself deeper down her throat as I explode. Sophie’s eyes find mine and she watches me intently as I empty myself into her mouth. It’s the most erotic sight and even as I pull myself free, my erection refuses to fade.

  Christ, that was intense. If oral sex is off the charts with her, I can’t imagine what penetration will be like. And that simple thought pumps a fresh round of blood south and I’m fully hard and ready again in a split second.

  Taking her hand in mine, I lift her to her feet. Her mouth is swollen and pink, her lips full. I kiss her lightly. "Stay right here."

  I cross the room and retrieve the gift bag from the top of my bureau. I remove the small bottle of oil from the bag and Sophie’s eyes zero in on it, and then dart down to my still eager erection and she swallows roughly. Her entire body stiffens. She looks terrified. What the hell?