Cheater (Curious Liaisons Book 1)

by Rachel Van Dyken

  Except now—now I was irritated.

  Because I needed sex.

  Like some men needed water.

  It was what I did when I felt nervous—actually, it was what I did when I felt anything—sex was my yoga.

  And now I had nothing.

  I tapped my pen against the report I’d been reading.

  Ten minutes later I was still tapping, still staring at the same page, when Avery came bustling back into my office like a bat out of hell. Damn, the woman had too much energy.

  I was torn between wanting to put a sleeping pill in her coffee or watch her turn in circles until she tuckered herself out.

  “Here.” She shoved a cup in my face and then dropped the change onto my desk. “I got myself something too for my efforts. Is there anything else, or do you want me to work on the project list I was given?”

  Oh shit. I’d been staring at her lips, and I totally spaced what she’d just asked me.

  “Do I need to talk slower?” With an irritated frown, she spoke with care, enunciating every word as though speaking a foreign language. “It’s not really my thing, but if you’d rather I make smoke signals from my desk or learn sign language, I think I can manage.”

  “You know, for someone who’s trying to get a good review from a VP, you’re not really starting off on the right foot. ‘Professional,’ remember?”

  Her expression fell.

  “That’s what I thought.” I smirked. “And sorry, but I had someone”—I searched for the word—“quit on me this morning, and it’s put me in a bit of a bind.”

  “Who?” She tilted her head and took a sip of her giant coffee. “Did they do something important?”

  “Very”—I tugged the collar of my shirt as she sucked in her bottom lip—“important.”

  “Well, maybe I can help. And I mean that in a strictly ‘I’ll take on more work if you pay me more’ way, not an ‘I want to dig you out of the hole you’re in because I’m a nice person and I remember the way you used to hold my hand when we went to the fair’ way.”

  “You were scared of Ferris wheels. It was the least I could do.”

  Her blush ran from her cheeks all the way down her neck. “They’re . . . tall.”

  “I’m tall. Are you afraid of me?” I leaned forward, placing my hands flat against my desk, ready to pounce.

  She paused, and then a loud “Nope!” came out of those pink lips before she leaned forward. “Now, do you need my help?”

  I chuckled. “Oh, Avery, I don’t think you want to help me in that . . . way.”

  “What? Is it . . . hard?”

  “Very.” I coughed. “And often.”

  “Well, maybe I can make it easier. Maybe I’m better than the last person who did it.” She was back to sucking the life out of her coffee cup, and I could almost imagine that mouth on me—or her killing me, more likely. “I’ll do anything, Lucas, anything.”

  “I’d believe it,” I said in a hoarse tone. “Now, why don’t you go check my schedule and see if the reports from Bellevue Elementary have come in.”

  “So I don’t get to help?”

  “That’s you helping.” I seriously needed her to drop the subject before I entertained the idea. Her family wouldn’t just kill me; they’d burn me alive and invite the entire city of Seattle to watch.

  “But—”

  “Avery.” I stood. “Go. I’ll call you in if I need you.”

  “Fine.” She stood too and hurried out of my office, and like a damn teenager, I watched her ass move back and forth until she sat down at her desk in the open space across from the door to my office. I immediately gripped the edge of my desk as a familiar awareness washed over me.

  It had been four years since I’d last seen her, but it felt like yesterday.

  She should have zero effect on me.

  And yet. She did.

  More than any of the women I was currently seeing. And she’d done nothing but threaten and yell since she walked in.

  I was in deep shit.

  I needed to get laid. Tonight.

  Avery stretched her arms over her head. Apple-sized breasts pushed forward, stretching her blouse’s neckline and revealing an enticing amount of cleavage.

  The hell with that—I needed to get laid over my lunch break. And I wasn’t even a breast man per se.

  I quickly grabbed my phone and scrolled through the options. I typically weighed the pros and cons and had a very strategic way in which I picked girls, but I was desperate.

  I chose one I’d enjoyed a few times—she was technically a substitute, and I hadn’t decided if I wanted her in the regular lineup. Avery leaned over to pick up something off the floor, the leather pants tightening across her ass.

  I couldn’t call fast enough.

  Nadia answered on the second ring. “Lucas Thorn.”

  Yeah, yeah, yeah—Lucas Thorn, whatever. “Hey, what are you doing for lunch?”

  “You,” she whispered.

  “That’s all I needed to hear.”

  Chapter Four

  AVERY

  Lucas Thorn was a sickness.

  A darkness that never left.

  He was a rutting bastard.

  He was still—unfortunately—gorgeous.

  With big hazel eyes and chocolate-brown hair that curled around his ears, a strong chin with a cleft in it, and a wicked smile that probably killed nice little old ladies with heart conditions—he was the devil himself.

  My stomach clenched.

  It sucked, watching your hero turn into someone you hated all within the span of minutes—seconds, really.

  Four years ago, he’d walked out of our lives. He hadn’t just dated my older sister—he’d been a part of our family. A huge part.

  They were high school sweethearts. Homecoming king and queen, prom royalty, the quarterback who won state and the cheerleader who held his hand afterward.

  It made someone like me—a more bookish, slightly nerdy girl—insanely jealous, because if you looked up “American dream” in the dictionary, Lucas Thorn and Kayla Black would have been the definition.

  Until the day which shall not be spoken of.

  With the estranged jealous psycho sister who I only saw on holidays.

  He’d destroyed my family.

  And I hated him for it.

  Almost as much as I hated Brooke for allowing it. I’d wanted so badly to blame her instead of him.

  He’d been so protective of me. Seemed so . . . perfect, in every way.

  And now I was angry, not just uncomfortable and nervous but so angry that energy poured out of me. I channeled that anger into my work. I answered emails, called the schools that Lucas needed to visit in the week ahead, and went over the new marketing brochures.

  And it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.

  Coffee was helping—but I imagined that my productivity was generated more by the adrenaline coursing through my veins because Lucas was mere feet away. As if sensing his presence, my heart rate sped up like I’d just taken a shot of caffeine through an IV.

  If anything, I expected to start hovering over my desk Red Bull–style, any minute, and I’d sprout legit wings and have to explain to everyone why the new girl didn’t use chairs.

  “Hello.” A heavily accented feminine voice interrupted my psychotic daydream. I wiped my mouth, just in case I had coffee dripping down to my chin, and glanced up.

  She had long, wavy hair that went on for miles; it was brown and silky, and I had the sudden urge to cut it all off and superglue it to my own head—yeah, I needed to lay off the coffee. I scooted my cup away and folded my hands on my desk.

  “Hi, how may I help you?”

  “You.” She pointed at me and giggled. “You are so young and small to be working at big office.”

  “Oh, well, it’s Bring Your Daughter to Work Day.” I winked. “You know, Daddy’s so proud and all.”

  “Oh, this makes so sense!” I think she meant to say “so much sense,” but her English wasn
’t that great. Alrighty then, moving on. “I need to see Lucas Thorn.”

  The way she said his name made me want to throw my coffee in her face. She was dreamy and seductive, everything I wasn’t, not that I could even try to compare myself to someone like her.

  “Who should I say is asking?”

  “One of his girls.” Of course, now she would wink—it was a condescending wink, one that made my hands twitch. “He’ll let me right in.”

  Alarm bells went off in my head as my stomach clenched. “One of his girls,” huh? Sharon? Sharie? The pregnant lady had warned me, but I was afraid to ask for details—and now I was too curious for my own good. With shaking hands, I picked up the phone just in time to see Lucas stroll out of his office, give the woman a smirk, and hold out his hand.

  “Lucas Thorn.” She said his full name. Again. Like he wasn’t aware he had a last and a first. “You’re looking good.”

  “So are you, gorgeous.” He winked. “Shall we?” He led her into his office and then, much to my dismay, closed the blinds and shut the door.

  Well, that’s completely not helpful.

  I tapped my pen against the desk while I waited for them to finish. Ten minutes later . . . and nothing.

  Though I did see movement—not enough to know what was going on but enough to be even more curious about why the door needed to be shut.

  After thirty minutes I’d come up with at least ten different scenarios. Maybe she was from a school in a foreign country? Maybe the kids there needed help reading too! Maybe he was saving children! Or maybe he was a self-serving man whore who was taking advantage of her like he’d done to my family.

  Forty-five minutes, they were still in his office.

  Should I send in a search party? I wondered.

  He did have a meeting that I’d forgotten to tell him about in like fifteen minutes, so did it make sense for me to knock? Call?

  Just when I stood, the door to his office opened. His shirt was torn open, its buttons basically hanging by their threads as the woman dabbed her lips with her hand and again winked at me. Her makeup was spread across her cheeks, and her beautiful hair was a complete mess. My mouth dropped open when she limped—yes, limped—to the elevator and then turned to blow him a kiss. “Until next Friday, Lucas Thorn.” She pulled out a compact and began fixing her face.

  “I’ll put you down for every Friday.”

  “Thank you.” She grinned. The snap of the compact shutting closed made me jump in my seat. “For allowing me to take the open position.”

  “You proved your worth!” he called back. His smile was so shameless, I didn’t know what to do—with my body or with my hands.

  The elevator doors closed.

  I was still staring at them when Lucas whispered over my shoulder, “You gonna be okay?”

  I jerked away from him. He smelled like perfume. Lipstick and bite marks marred the golden skin around his neck. I wanted to cry.

  And I had no right to be upset.

  He wasn’t my problem.

  Or my boyfriend.

  He wasn’t anything but my boss.

  But the lipstick hurt—just like the bite marks did and the scent of another woman, a woman who wasn’t my sister or, if I was being really honest, me.

  Any girl would have crushed on him.

  Hero worship sucked—he’d fallen so far.

  And now? What? Quickies in his office?

  “Good meeting?” I licked my lips, sat down, and tried to look busy by stacking papers that I’d already reviewed.

  “Great.” He patted my back. “I should probably go over my other schedule with you when we have time.” He paused as if he was reading his own schedule over my shoulder. “But it looks like you forgot to tell me about a meeting, so I’m just going to go change shirts, and we’ll continue this discussion later.”

  “Looking forward to it,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “You blush when you lie,” he called over his shoulder. “Also, those papers are upside down.” Then he shut the door to his office.

  And I blew out a frustrated huff of air. Bastard.

  Chapter Five

  LUCAS

  After my real meeting, I had a few hours to kill and managed to get ahead of schedule for the following week. By the time five o’clock that evening rolled around, I was ready to shut down and leave earlier than normal.

  Avery was still at her desk, staring at the computer in awe like she’d never seen one before.

  Thank God I’d been smart enough to call Nadia and release the pent-up tension that had still somehow crept back into my shoulders.

  She had been a welcome distraction.

  Someone who knew exactly what I needed the minute I closed the blinds.

  And for some reason, with a completely available and gorgeous woman sucking me off in my office—I’d felt guilty.

  Guilty because Avery was a few feet away.

  Guilty because I blamed her for so many things.

  I freaking hated guilt.

  Hated it.

  Which meant, by extension, that I hated her.

  That’s what four years of fucked up got you.

  Hate.

  “Am I interrupting?” I pointed to the computer. “Or are you just seeing if you can turn it on with your thoughts?”

  “Very funny,” she grumbled. “It froze.”

  “You were looking at porn, weren’t you?” It was easier for me to be around her since Nadia had taken the edge off, and I knew teasing her would get under her skin. She was way too comfortable taking digs at me while still being one of the sexiest females I’d ever met.

  And that thought right there?

  Didn’t sit well with me.

  She looked horrified. “N-no, I just—”

  And mission accomplished. “Relax, I was joking.”

  Avery’s wide eyes told me she didn’t give a flying rat’s ass if I was joking or not—the crack wasn’t funny.

  “Alright then.” I leaned over her body, trying not to laugh as her chair squeaked with the effort it took for her to push away from me. I tapped a few keys, forcing the applications to quit, and then rebooted the computer. “Done.”

  “So, Lucas Thorn.” She said my name breathlessly, but it was all for show. She was making fun of the way Nadia had said it. “You’re a computer genius too?”

  “Stop batting your eyelashes,” I scolded. “It’s creepy as hell, and no, I’m not a computer genius—I just know not to have twenty different tabs open at once while I’m trying to listen to Pandora.”

  She thoughtfully tapped her chin with her fingertips. “I knew I shouldn’t have created that One Direction station.”

  “Please tell me that was your attempt at a joke.”

  She started to hum the tune to “What Makes You Beautiful.”

  I covered her mouth with my hand. “Please. Just. No.”

  She shoved my hand away. The gesture between us was so familiar, I didn’t know whether to laugh, or remind her how often we used to tease one another, or just walk away and flip her off for making me remember in the first place.

  “So”—she grabbed her purse—“should we go over your mysterious ‘other schedule’?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Think you could hate me any more?”

  “I’m sure I can find more hate, absolutely.” She grinned as though the idea made her downright cheerful.

  “Then we probably need alcohol. Good thing you’re twenty-two.”

  “Yes, my life has just begun. Did you know I can ride a bike and everything? Daddy took the training wheels off last week, but the streamers stayed.” She gave an exaggerated wink. “Girls gotta have streamers.”

  Sighing, I braced her shoulders. “If I stop reminding you of your age, will you stop being so damn defensive?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Sorry, my defense mechanism is like a giant wall. The Great Wall of China, for example. It separates me from you, and the only way it’s getting broken down is with
a nuclear bomb.”

  “Well, that’s encouraging,” I grumbled. “Let’s go.”

  Happy hour was in full swing by the time we made it down to the bar. When I finally located a table I was hit with an irrational desire to pull her chair as close to mine as possible. “So . . .” Avery sipped her Chardonnay and leaned her arms on the table. She wore bracelets that wrapped along both arms a few dozen times, which suited her. She had always been edgier than her sisters, more outspoken. She just looked like the kind of girl who was up for anything, which was a far cry from the bookworm I remembered from her high school days. The girl who, back then, refused to touch a drop of alcohol and liked staying in on the weekends.

  Go figure.

  I sipped my Jack and Coke and tried to think of the best way to explain my dating schedule. It wasn’t necessary that she know every painful detail, but I did need her to understand that when the girls came to my office, unless I’d invited them, they weren’t welcome.

  Some of the ones that I’d broken up with hadn’t accepted that our time had come to an end, meaning I’d had a few stalkers. The last thing I wanted was to have any of them in my office, or anywhere for that matter.

  I didn’t do well with that type of confrontation, and who would? Every one of them cried and then, in a last-ditch effort, confessed love.

  The last one said she was pregnant.

  That was my breaking point—especially when I found out she was lying.

  “So here’s the deal with my other”—I coughed into my hand—“schedule.”

  Avery pulled her strawberry-blonde hair back into a low, messy bun and sighed. “Is it top secret or something?”

  “Sort of.” Hell, how did I even start this conversation? Awkward didn’t even begin to cover it.

  “Lucas Thorn!” A familiar voice said my name.

  Oh hell.

  I turned to the left. Jess was standing with a man at her side, but at least she looked happy.

  “Told ya you’d have a Friday replacement by lunch.” She winked at me and then turned her attention to Avery.

  “Oh, no, she’s—”

  “Hi!” Avery and her damn manners! “I’m Avery, and you are?”