Dare to Lie

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Dare to Lie Page 10

by Jen McLaughlin


  “You want to find out?” He released the last finger, and walked toward me, looking like he was seconds from jumping me, kissing me . . . or jumping me to kiss me. “Open your door. Now.”

  I turned, fumbling with the key as I slid it inside the lock. The second I opened the door, he was guiding me through it, shutting us in together, and locking it. He backed me up against the wall, pressing his body against mine, and caught my wrists in one of his hands, trapping them over my head. “You want to forget me, Sky? Want to get me off your mind?”

  A small moan escaped me, and my pulse surged as my blood heated. And there it was. The lust, the attraction, I’d been so desperately seeking with Steven. Liquid warmth pooled in my belly, and my legs trembled, and I licked my parched lips. “I—”

  “You can’t forget me that easily, sugar.” He slid his hand under my skirt, and up my thigh, stopping just short of where I ached for him most. I wasn’t sure whether to be angry, relieved, or to cry. He lowered his forehead to mine, and his warm breath touched my lips. “Wanna know why?”

  I nodded, not speaking, just letting out a ragged breath.

  He crept his hand higher, running the side of his thumb over my folds, through the thin satin of my panties, which were now damp with my desire. “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. One you can’t tell anyone.”

  I waited, holding my breath as he traced my clitoris, teasing me with his barely there caresses. “Yeah?”

  “There’s been no one else since you.” He scraped the side of his thumb over me. “I can’t get you off my mind, and I can only think of one way to fix that. We need to fuck again. Get it out of our systems.” His grip on me tightened. “I need you, sugar.”

  A groan escaped me, and I tilted my head back, staring up at the high white ceilings of the apartment. “Am I supposed to be flattered you want more?”

  “No, if anything it should make you run. I never want more.”

  I said nothing.

  He wasn’t done.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you, and when I’m alone in bed, I jack off and pretend I’m with you,” he said, his voice gritty and rough and oh-so-sexy. “I can’t stop thinking about how amazing your tight pussy felt clamped around my cock, or fantasizing about how sweet you tasted, like sugar. Do you still taste that good? Are you still sweet? I need to know.”

  I lifted my chin, stopping just short of kissing him, even though I could have easily closed the distance between us. He’s the one who had been adamant about not wanting more than one-night stands in his life. If he wanted another taste . . . he’d have to be the one to push for more. “Why don’t you find out? I dare you.”

  He let out a broken moan, and within a second of me issuing the biggest challenge of my life, his lips were on mine and he was showing me what a kiss really was. There was no hesitation as he slid his tongue into my mouth, washing away any memory of Steven’s mediocre kiss. His hand was still wrapped around my wrists, and his other hand pushed my panties out of the way so he could slide a finger in between my folds, spreading my wetness out over my clitoris. When he pressed a thumb against me, teasing me, and thrust a finger inside my depths, I gasped and rocked my hips forward, trying to get more.

  To feel more.

  His mouth moved over mine, stealing my breath and all rational thought, until all that was left was Scotty, and how deliciously erotic he made me feel. It was like he had the power to make me forget about everything but pleasure the second he touched me.

  Growling, he stopped his torture and lifted me up so he could step between my legs, thrusting his erection against me as he deepened the kiss. He’d let go of my hands, so I buried them in his hair, pulling on it as I strained to get closer. I had a feeling I’d never get close enough, never get enough, of him. Ever.

  That was a scary feeling.

  And thrilling.

  He closed his palm over my breast, squeezing my nipple, sending a shaft of need piercing through me. I skimmed my fingers down his muscular back, remembering how hard he’d looked as he led me upstairs naked, and how I’d been so sure I would never get to see him again.

  Yet, here he was.

  Kissing me all over again.

  He broke off the kiss, his lips moving down my jaw, over my throat, and to my collarbone. He let out a tortured groan as I rolled my hips against him. “Jesus, you’re even sweeter than I remembered.”

  I opened my mouth to reply, but then he yanked my shirt down, shoved my bra out of the way, and closed his mouth over my nipple. Whatever words I would have said came out in a jumbled moan, and I threaded my hands through his hair, urging him closer.

  The last time we’d had sex, it was fast and hurried, and I’d assumed this time would be as well, considering how we’d started. But now . . .

  He scraped his teeth against me, and I cried out, arching my back as he rocked his erection against me, driving me mad. I thought he’d sent me over the abyss of pleasure before, but having his mouth touch me everywhere . . . there was something erotic and forbidden about it. He released my nipple and yanked my shirt over my head, throwing it aside. Within seconds, my bra was off, too, and his hands were free as he held me in place against the wall with his hips.

  He tore his shirt off, muscles twisting and flexing as he stripped it away. All that black ink . . . I traced the Sacred Heart on his chest, barely touching his skin. I hadn’t really gotten the chance to explore him that night, and I ached to get to know every inch of his body intimately. Every muscle, every hollow, every piece of artwork.

  Even the one that claimed him as a gang member.

  I kept trying to ignore that he used to be a criminal, kept telling myself he’d changed his life for the better, but knowing he’d once walked down that path, and maybe killed people . . .

  It was terrifying.

  But people could, and did, change.

  I had to believe that.

  Leaning in, I pressed my lips to the heart, breathing in his scent. He sucked in a breath and held it, standing completely still. “Sky . . .”

  “May I . . . ?” I trailed my fingers over his pecs, and down to his six-pack . . . stopping at the waistband of his jeans, where I was pressed against him.

  His brow shot up. “May you what?”

  “Explore.” I licked my lips, running my hands back up where I came from, dragging my palms over his nipples. The veins in his neck stood out, and he stiffened. “You. All of you. I want my turn.”

  “So polite, so proper.” He cupped my ass, and stepped back, lowering me to the floor slowly. “Do your worst, Sky.”

  Biting down on my lip, I stepped closer, learning the feel of his skin, of his body pressed to mine. I held on to him for support, because my heart was racing, and I couldn’t catch my breath as the room spun around us. When my fingers drifted lower again, I hesitated at his waistband, gripping the button and glancing up at him questioningly.

  He held on to my hips, like he sensed my need for something grounding, and nodded once. “Go ahead. Do it.”

  I undid the button, carefully unzipping his pants. His huge erection pressed against the confines of his jeans, and his hold on me tightened as my knuckles brushed against him. I slid my hand in his jeans, brushing my fingers down his thighs as I pushed them off him. They hit the floor with a thud and he stood in tight black boxer briefs.

  It was, hands down, the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

  Him standing there, waiting for me to “do my worst.”

  Knowing I needed to get out of my shell, I cupped his erection, testing the feel of him in my palm. He was huge and hard, and I ached to feel him without the fabric in my way. He gritted his teeth and thrust into my hand, his cheeks flushed. “You’re going to kill me, sugar. Are you satisfied yet?”

  “I’ve barely even started,” I said breathlessly.

  “Shit.”

&nb
sp; I pulled back, stepping away so I could admire him. He watched me, body hard, jaw harder. I made a circle around him, taking in the rear view, too, skimming my fingers over his back as I walked. He had a green-eyed dragon climbing up his spine, the green being the only hint of color on him.

  I touched it.

  “This one’s nice,” I murmured.

  “It’s for my brother.” He turned his head, studying me. “Lose the skirt.”

  I came around the front of him, smiling slightly. Gripping the waist, I pulled it down, standing there in nothing more than a pair of pink panties. “Better?”

  “Almost.” He pulled me into his arms so our bare bodies touched. My nipples brushed against his chest hair, and I gasped, resting my hands on his shoulders. “Look, sugar, I wanna give you what you want. But I don’t know how long I can stand there, letting you look at me. I’ll be damned if I waste another second denying myself something I want. I’m not that kind of guy.”

  “Fine,” I said quickly. “One more thing?”

  He nodded jerkily. “You’ve got thirty seconds until I take over again.”

  I dropped to my knees, like he’d done the other day, and turned my face up to his. Sliding his boxers down, my mouth dropped open when I was literally face level with his erection. I skimmed my fingers over him. It was a weird sensation, his skin on mine. He was hard, yet smooth, and soft, but stiff.

  Which made no sense at all.

  Closing my fist over him, I slid it down his shaft, squeezing the base gently. “You like?”

  He let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I fucking like.”

  I rose up on my knees, leaning in. After one last peek at him, I flicked my tongue over the tip of his erection, wanting to taste him like he’d tasted me. I wrapped my mouth around him and sucked, rolling my tongue over the head of his shaft and relaxing my throat to take all of him in.

  I discovered I had an excellent gag reflex.

  He groaned and grabbed my hair, tugging. “Jesus,” he croaked, his voice raw and sexy as hell. When I wrapped my mouth around the base of his erection, he let out a strangled groan that kind of sounded like he was dying. “Sky. What—oh God.”

  I slid up his shaft, almost letting go, and then took him inside my mouth again, sucking harder. “Son of a bitch fucker shit . . .” He let out a long groan, his fingers latching on to my hair and pulling insistently. “Enough. Shit, enough, Sky.”

  I released him reluctantly, rocking back on my heels and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “But—”

  “Thirty seconds are up,” he growled, urging me up by the hair. I followed his lead, wincing slightly when I didn’t move fast enough. “Where the hell did you learn how to do that?”

  “Instinct?” I offered helpfully. “Also, lots of romance books, and one unfortunate incident where I tried it out in real life.”

  His grip on my hair tightened, and he pulled me closer until I was wrapped in his arms. “Why was it unfortunate?”

  “He came all over himself, and passed out,” I said in a rush. “It was sloppy, and gross, and I didn’t get a turn like he promised.”

  He snorted. “After finding out what you can do, I don’t blame the asshole for passing out happily—though he should have returned the favor first.” He frowned, eyeing me curiously. “Though, I’ll be honest. I don’t like the idea of you with another guy like this. I was supposed to be your first.”

  “You were my first.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Not in that.”

  I mimicked him, and raised a brow. “And you were a virgin before me? Never even went down on a girl before? Never had sex?”

  His nostrils flared. “It’s not the same thing.”

  “The hell it’s not,” I said, anger starting to pierce through the lust cloaked over me. “Just because I’m a—”

  “Okay, you’re right. Shit.” He gently pulled on my hair until my chin pointed up and my neck was bared. “I’m a jealous asshole, and I’m sorry.”

  I stared at him, not accepting his words.

  Not rejecting them either, but still . . .

  “I take it all back. I was being a prick, something I’m unbelievably good at, as you’ll find out firsthand. Forgive me?”

  He ran a finger down my neck, all the way to my nipple, tracing a circle around the hard bud. Gently, he grasped it, squeezing and twisting in a way that made me forget all about what we’d been fighting over in the first place.

  I bit back a moan, still not speaking.

  He released my hair, and I collapsed against the wall, resting my palms against it for support. I watched him from lowered lids as he bent and pulled a condom out of his pocket. God, did he just carry those around at all times, in case someone threw herself at him?

  Chances were women did.

  All the time.

  As he rolled the condom into place, his hands on his erection made my stomach clench tight as I remembered when I’d found him in the bathroom . . . touching himself while thinking of me. He’d done it in bed, too. So had I, but it hadn’t given me the pleasure he had.

  I had a sinking suspicion nothing could.

  After he finished, he took a step toward me, somehow making even that undeniably sexy. “I know how to sweeten the deal. How to make you forgive me.”

  “Oh yeah?” I managed to ask, my gaze locked on his thick erection. It had a blue vein running up the side of it that I ached to trace with my tongue. “How?”

  “Like this.”

  He grabbed my thigh, tossed it over his shoulder, and gripped my panties. With a jerk of his hand, he ripped them in half, and they hit the floor. Before I could so much as gasp, his mouth was on me, and my gasp turned into a groan. His tongue rolled over me, jabbing at my sensitive flesh. Pleasure coiled in my belly, bunching into a tight ball, and I dug my heel into his back, rocking my hips against his mouth wantonly. “Oh my—Scotty.”

  He palmed my butt, digging his fingers into the flesh there as he thrust his tongue inside me, growling deep in his throat. His teeth scraped my flesh, and when his tongue teased me again, I lost it. Everything inside of me coiled so tight it broke. The second I collapsed against the wall, chest heaving, he was on his feet, and his mouth was on mine.

  His tongue curled around mine as he slapped his erection against my sensitive flesh, and I soared into the sky again, and I came harder than before . . . which I didn’t think was possible. But it was. God, it was. I trembled and dug my fingers into his back, right above his hips, lifting my leg. He took my silent command, hoisted me against the wall again, and slid between my thighs.

  He froze, seconds from driving inside me, and pulled back. His nostrils flared, and then he said something that blew my mind even more than his actions did, which was saying a heck of a lot. “I never take risks that won’t pay off. I never threaten everything I’ve worked so damn hard for on a night of pleasure. But with you, I can’t seem to help myself, or stop, even though I know you might end up getting me killed. And I don’t know what to do about that . . . besides this.”

  I blinked. Killed? Why would I get him—?

  He thrust into me, destroying that thought and the confusion that went with it, until I didn’t remember anything but this. Him. Inside me. God, I’d missed it. It might have only been two days since I’d had him, but it felt like a lifetime. I was still a little tender, but the pain was manageable, barely there. The pleasure outrode it by far. “Scotty.”

  He cupped my head, holding me tenderly as his lips closed over mine, claiming me as his, even if he didn’t know it. He moved, his hips rotating smoothly as he slammed into me, pulled out, and did it all over again. I wrapped my legs around him tightly, gasping into his mouth touching mine, his tongue moving in tandem with his hips. Everything he did, every move he made, was specifically designed to drive me crazy, and he was a genius at pulling at all my strings.
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  I couldn’t breathe.

  Couldn’t think.

  Couldn’t . . .

  By the time I came again, my body was humming with need, and all that pleasure just kind of exploded as I came, his name on my lips. He made a low, primitive sound, thrust into me one more time, and his whole body pressed against mine harder as he rode out his orgasm, too. When it was finished, his lips froze over mine, and his hands skimmed the curve of my thigh and hip gently one last time.

  He let out a long breath before breaking contact.

  When he looked at me, he glanced over my body, taking his time. By the time our gazes caught, my pulse was racing just as fast as before. I held my breath, waiting for him to say something impossibly hot and sexy, like he had before. Something that would make me tingle and want more, even as I forgot everything he said the second his lips touched mine. Or maybe he’d make excuses and leave.

  My father—the man who was supposed to love me no matter what—had sworn that I wasn’t his, and he’d walked away and never looked back, so what would stop Scotty from doing the same?

  What would stop any man from doing the same?

  He opened his mouth, closed it, and then said, “Again.”

  CHAPTER 11

  SCOTTY

  We collapsed on the bed together, breathing heavily, her sprawled across my chest, naked, and looking like some kind of goddess. Me, naked, trembling, weak from exertion, yet no less attracted to her. The early morning sunlight streamed in through the curtains, playing with her strawberry blonde hair, and I reached out to touch a curl hesitantly, in awe of her and the way she made me feel. Her hair was soft between my fingers, and slightly damp with sweat, which wasn’t a huge surprise, since we’d started fucking last night and hadn’t really stopped since. I was trying to bang her out of my system . . .

  And failing miserably.

  The more I had her, the deeper the craving went.

  I didn’t get that. Didn’t understand what it meant.

 

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