The Lying Season

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The Lying Season Page 19

by K. A. Linde


  I flopped back onto the bed and giggled. “I feel so good.”

  “Did the magazine thing go this poorly?” he asked, stripping out of the polo he’d worn to the golf course.

  “Nope. It went great. English thinks it’s going to go viral. And Court miraculously behaved the entire time. He didn’t even fight English. I don’t know what got into him.”

  “Huh. I guess that would be me. I talked to him about it last night.”

  “Really?” I asked, propping myself up on my elbow. “You got Court Kensington to behave? Do you want to be his publicist?”

  He laughed. “Negative. Just his friend.”

  “You look good shirtless.”

  “Thanks,” he said with a half-smile. “How burnt are you going to be?”

  I stared down at my body and shrugged. “Mostly my legs, I think.”

  “Let’s get you in a shower and then lather you in aloe before this party.”

  I slid off of the bed and put my arms around him. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

  “Always.”

  I pressed my lips to his, and he deepened it. Then he slipped an arm under my legs and lifted me into his arms. I squeaked in surprise as he carried me into the giant walk-in shower attached to this room. He set me down onto my feet once we were inside and flipped the water on as hot as it would go.

  He shucked his khakis and boxers onto the ground outside of the shower and then moved toward me. I bit my lip and stepped back until he pressed me into the stone wall.

  His lips covered mine again, fiercely, possessively. His hand slipped behind my back and yanked on the strings of my favorite black bikini. The material hit the ground, leaving me in just my ruched cheeky bottoms. But he wasn’t satisfied with that. His thumbs hooked into the hem and slid them over my ass and onto the floor.

  I had no words. I loved this unbridled, forceful Sam. The one who saw me in a bikini and carried me into the shower to get to me. I wanted this Sam so fucking bad. And his erection pressing into my stomach said how much he wanted me too.

  He lifted one of my legs, hiking it up around his waist. I gasped as he pressed his dick against the space between my thighs. My eyes squeezed shut as warmth rolled through me. I dug my nails into his back, wanting more, needing more.

  He obliged by grinding against me in the most delicious and dangerous way imaginable. I scrambled to get more. To feel him take what was his. But he hesitated. I could see the strain it took for him to stop.

  “Condom?” he rasped.

  “Fuck,” I said. “I’m on the pill.”

  He met my gaze, seeing my confirmation that I wanted this anyway. “Okay. Fuck.”

  Then without another word, he lifted my leg up and slammed me back against the stone shower wall. I groaned as he aligned our bodies and then thrust up into me. My back bowed off the wall as he filled me completely.

  The steam rose up all around us, obscuring everything but Sam in front of me. Making us slippery and wet and sweaty. Heightened everything to the point of desperation. His muscles bulged as he held me against the wall and drove up into me hard and fast . Took me with everything he had.

  And it was mere minutes before we were both crying out into the steam of the shower as we hit a wave and raced down it together.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, Sam released his grip and set me down on my shaky legs. They immediately collapsed underneath me, and I fell into a heap on the shower floor.

  “Wow,” I murmured.

  “Yeah, fuck,” he said. “That was…”

  “Amazing.”

  “Do you need help standing?”

  I laughed and nodded. He reached down and helped me up, gently walking me back into the stream and kissing my mouth.

  “I missed you, by the way.”

  “Oh, was that what this was?” I asked with a smile.

  “Yes.”

  “Miss me all the time then.”

  “If you’d like.”

  Then he kissed me under the stream of water, and I lost cognizant thought all over again.

  English shot us conspiratorial looks when we reemerged in time for the start of the party. Apparently, we had not thought about how loud we were being. But also, I couldn’t even be bothered to care. It had been some kind of wonderful.

  “Well, you’re glowing,” Katherine said when she finally made her appearance.

  “Glowing?” I asked in surprise, sipping on a glass of champagne Sam had retrieved for me after insisting on several glasses of water first. I looked down at the green sundress I’d brought with me. Another from my mother’s Bergdorf purchases. She really had figured out my style. It made me weirdly uncomfortable. But I still wore it.

  “Indeed.”

  “You’re as stunning as ever.”

  And she was in a blush sundress with her magnificent hair piled up on the top of her head. Her lips were tinted a lush pink. She looked like the epitome of summer. When she was clearly a winter flower—prized and rare.

  “I make do,” Katherine said with a choice smirk.

  “How has it been, staying here with Camden?”

  Her smile vanished. “Acceptable.”

  Translation: horrible.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Her eyes flashed. “Don’t.”

  “I wasn’t,” I said instantly. I knew Katherine liked pity as much as a bag of tarantulas being dropped on her head.

  “Luckily, Fiona isn’t in the Hamptons,” she admitted. “It’s harder in the city.”

  I could see that. More options. More ways to hurt one another. I just wished they could talk it out and figure out how to move on. But I didn’t see it happening anytime soon.

  “I’m going to go find a drink,” Katherine said. She leaned in and kissed both of my cheeks. “I’m happy for you.”

  I beamed. “Thanks. Me too.”

  “You deserve this.” Katherine gave me a sad smile and then disappeared in search of that drink.

  My heart ached for my friend. I didn’t know how to fix them. It was beyond me. Maybe even beyond English’s expertise. I just hoped they didn’t do anything else that would irreparably ruin them in the meantime.

  Sam reappeared then with a kiss on my lips. “God, you look great.”

  I laughed and wrinkled my nose at him. “Katherine said I looked like I was glowing.”

  “Must be the sex.”

  “Sure, throw me up against a shower wall, and I start to emit low-level radiation.”

  He snorted. “Is that what’s causing me to fall in love with you again?”

  My mouth opened and then closed. And then he kissed my lips again.

  “Rhetorical question,” he amended. Then a few seconds later, “But…I am.”

  “You are?”

  He nodded. “How could I not?”

  “Good question.”

  “Cocky much?”

  I grinned and brought his mouth back to mine. “I am too. So…you’re lucky.”

  “I am. Very.”

  We sipped on our drinks as the party passed by. I was so glad that we’d agreed to come out here. The Hamptons had a lulling effect. As if everything was going to be okay. And the problem with lulling was that it didn’t make you stay on your toes. It didn’t prepare you for what was coming next.

  My back stiffened. My eyes locked on the figure that walked into the house. He was tall and lanky with dark hair and hazel eyes. Nothing too distinct about him, but I’d recognize his gait and mannerisms in a heartbeat.

  “What is it?” Sam asked, reading my body language and following my gaze to the front door. “Who is that?”

  “That’s Thomas.” I sighed. “My ex-boyfriend.”

  28

  Lark

  “Ugh,” I grumbled. “Maybe he won’t see me.”

  “Why? What happened between y’all?” Sam asked.

  I shook my head. “Fuck, he just saw me.” I shot Sam a pained expression. “I’ll tell you about it later. But first, keep me from killing him.” />
  “That serious?”

  “Please.”

  “All right. I’ll do my best,” he said warily.

  I didn’t blame him for being wary. Every time I saw Thomas, I felt like I’d been mowed over. And I hadn’t seen him in a while. I’d thought it was a sign of good fortune. Then here he was, at the Kensington Cottage. He had to have at least guessed that I might be here. Had he come to purposely torture me?

  And there he went…walking toward me. As if he were drawn to the one person who least wanted to see him.

  Of course there was a woman on his arm. Or maybe a girl. She looked really fucking young. But since we’d broken up, he’d been going younger and younger. She looked like a model—tall and emaciated with large eyes and intense cheekbones and collarbone.

  “Larkin,” Thomas said in greeting. “Funny seeing you here.”

  “Hello, Thomas,” I said stiffly, losing any lingering buzz.

  He looked the same. And yet so different. When we’d dated, he’d always worn these designer jeans and button-ups that he rolled up. He liked jackets and had several dozen of them—leather, linen, bomber, jean. None of them the preppy suit coat he was wearing today. That was before my parents had hired him to work for St. Vincent’s Enterprise. Now, he only wore fancy suits with tie clips and shiny shoes. He’d ditched the easygoing guy I’d met and fallen for and dived headfirst into upper management.

  But he’d probably always had that snake of a smile and sinister widow’s peak. The calculating smile and fake interest. I just hadn’t looked for it. Hadn’t wanted to.

  “I didn’t think you could ever get time off work for these sorts of things,” he said casually. As if it wasn’t a pointed remark about how I hadn’t had time for him.

  I just shrugged. No use in feeding the beast. “I normally can’t.”

  “Honey, are you going to introduce me?” the girl said. She leaned her head against his shoulder and fluttered her long eyelashes up at him.

  “Sure. Felicity, this is Larkin St. Vincent.”

  “Oh,” she said with wide eyes. “Your mother is a genius. I love her signature Larkin bag.” She gasped. “Wait…is that…you?”

  “Yes,” I said with an inward cringe. “That’s me.”

  “Brilliant. Do you work for the company too?”

  “No,” I said at once.

  “Too?” Sam asked, finally interjecting.

  Thomas looked him up and down and then dismissed him. “Yes, I work for St. Vincent’s.”

  Sam met my gaze as if he had just figured out a piece of the puzzle. He slipped an arm around me. Thomas finally picked up on it.

  “And who are you?”

  “Sam,” he said, holding his hand out. “Lark’s boyfriend.”

  Thomas shook his hand. “And what do you do?”

  “Legal counsel for the Kensington campaign.”

  “Ah…so you two work together,” Thomas said.

  My stomach dropped. I hadn’t thought about that fact. Our friends knew and didn’t care. I didn’t know what Thomas would do with the information.

  I was saved from answering by Court, Camden, and Gavin appearing as if out of thin air. Thomas immediately straightened. He could talk to me like shit. But Camden was his idol. I’d heard him lament it many a days once upon a time. And Court and Gavin had enough sway in the Upper East Side that he’d want to kiss their asses.

  “Thomas,” Court said, shaking his hand in greeting. “I don’t remember inviting you.”

  Thomas flushed slightly but sidestepped easily. “I was in the area.”

  So, he hadn’t even been invited. He’d just fucking shown up and crashed the place. Douche. Opportunistic, social-climbing douche.

  Camden held out his hand next. “Saw you on the course today. How did you end up?”

  Thomas looked like he’d swallowed a golf ball as he shook Gavin’s hand next. He was no golfer. I knew that much.

  “Par for the course,” he lied through his teeth.

  Gavin laughed. “Better than me. I sure didn’t hit par. I fucking hate golf, but it’s a gentleman’s sport.”

  “Which is why you’re so terrible at it,” Camden quipped.

  “I never claimed to be a gentleman. I don’t have to pretend to be anyone I’m not.” Gavin shrugged with that big grin on his face. Enjoying himself as they slowly crushed Thomas under their collective boot.

  Thomas cleared his throat. “I heard that you all have a poker game going in the city.”

  Camden’s attention focused on that comment. “And where exactly did you hear that?”

  “Around,” Thomas said vaguely. “I was just mentioning because I have a game myself. It’s going to be a full night of gambling and drinking and debauchery.” He painted the picture for them. “If it sounds like your kind of event, I could get invites out to you. Very exclusive, of course.”

  “What do you think, Sam?” Camden asked pointedly. “Think you’re ready to get your ass kicked in poker again at Thomas’s event?”

  I held back my snicker.

  Sam just shrugged sheepishly, perfectly playing the role. “I suppose. If I get an invite.”

  That had not been part of Thomas’s plan. A look of irritation flashed across his face. “Of course. Any friend of Camden Percy is a friend of mine.”

  “Then it’s settled. Send the invites to me,” Camden insisted. “We’ll be there.”

  Thomas smiled brightly, hearing the dismissal in Camden’s voice. “I look forward to it.”

  He took Felicity by the arm and hastily drew her across the room, away from the lot of us.

  I was glad that I was watching Camden’s face as Thomas disappeared. Or I wouldn’t have seen the flash of rage settle across his features.

  “I really hate that guy,” he growled before returning to his cool Upper East Side mask of neutrality and boredom.

  The end of the confrontation left me in jitters. Seeing Thomas always did this. No matter how much I’d put him behind me, he still made me so infuriatingly angry and near-to-tears upset. He’d manipulated me, and I should have known better. Seen it coming. But I’d been blindsided all the same. And it hit me fresh every time.

  “Thanks for that,” I said to the guys. “I just need some air.”

  Then I pushed past them all, through the back door, out to the deck, and then continued until my feet were in the sand. The beach was still relatively sparse this time of night. And it gave me the peace and quiet I needed.

  I tipped my head back to stare up at the nearly full moon and breathed in the salty air. I wasn’t alone for long though. After a few minutes, Sam plodded down onto the beach next to me. I met his gaze, lit only by the moon and the brightening stars overhead.

  “Sorry,” I said automatically.

  “So, your ex is a total dick. I don’t blame you for wanting a minute.”

  I laughed in a self-deprecating manner. “Yeah. I really knew how to pick ’em.”

  “What happened? Why is he like that?”

  I ran a hand back through the tamed loose curls that framed my face. “Well, Thomas and I dated for just over a year. I thought things were perfect. He moved into my apartment. My parents got him a job with the company. I was pretty sure I was going to get married and all that.

  “Then this girl who used to work for the mayor was telling everyone about the hot date she’d had the night before with a guy on Tinder. She showed everyone the picture…and it was Thomas.”

  “What?” Sam asked, wide-eyed.

  “Yeah. He was picking up people on Tinder and taking them back to my apartment to have sex with them.”

  “What the fuck? Why?”

  I shrugged. “Narcissistic personality disorder?”

  “How about a giant fucking entitled douche bag?”

  “That too. Well, I confronted him, but he denied it all. Said he wouldn’t move out, wouldn’t leave the company, wouldn’t let me break up with him.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “I
’d made it too easy on him. I’d brought him into this world,” I told him. “He didn’t want to let it go. Penn and Lewis packed all of his shit up one day and threw it out into the hallway, had all the locks changed, and were there to threaten him if he came near me again. But the job with the company…my parents took his side. They didn’t believe me. Thought I was exaggerating because I just couldn’t be happy.”

  “God, I’m so sorry. That’s horrible.”

  “It was a really rough couple of months. Between the shit with Thomas and you leaving me for Melissa, I just kind of figured I was done with relationships.”

  “Wait,” Sam said, holding a hand up, “I didn’t leave you for Melissa.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “What else would you call it?”

  “That isn’t what happened at all. You hacked into her computer and made up a bunch of fake emails between her and a nonexistent guy. Then you paid someone to pretend to be him. He showed up in Madison and proclaimed his love for her. It was next-level manipulative!”

  I took a step back. “You still believe all of that? I sent the email. I told him that she was in Madison and to come see her. That was Bad Lark. I admit it. Melissa was just the latest casualty in my warpath,” I said in frustration. “But I did not invent this guy. Those emails had already been there. She was talking to him. You just refused to listen to me.”

  “Then how did she have receipts of you paying him?” he asked.

  “God, I can’t believe we even have to go over this again,” I said with a shake of my head. “I paid for his flight to come out to see her. That’s the receipt she had. It was wrong. I owned up to that. I spent the next five years trying to not turn into that manipulative person again. But I was not the only one in the wrong that day. Melissa started it all.”

  He paused and took a deep breath. “Sorry. I don’t want to fight about this. I just…I guess I still don’t really know what happened.”

  “Here’s what happened,” I said with a resigned sigh. “You invited your ex-girlfriend to stay at your place and help with the campaign the last three weeks we were there. You and I were dating, and then there was another girl—your ex—living in your apartment.”

 

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