by Sara Daniel
She rubbed her chest against his. “I’m more of a hard and fast girl myself.”
I’m more of a hard and fast girl myself—lie.
“We tried your way at the lake. Fairness suggests we do things my way this time.” Despite the tightness in his chest, he forced an easy smile and slid his thumb over her lips. “What do you say? You trust me, right?”
“Right.” Her voice was shaky.
He didn’t need powers to know she was lying, but they confirmed it anyway.
She circled his thumb with her lips and slid her tongue down its length.
He gulped. He wanted the real thing, her tongue gliding down his erection, her sweet lips sucking him. A saint couldn’t have stopped her from seducing him, and Armando was no saint.
But if she thought no, the answer was no. Period. And regardless of what she said verbally and what her mouth and hands communicated to his skin, Fiona was shouting no. He would respect that, even if she didn’t. “I want us to keep our clothes on and just kiss for a while.”
Fiona released his thumb and dropped her hands from his chest. “Why?”
“Because I like foreplay. I think holding hands and rubbing ankles are just as sexy as fondling breasts.”
She continued to stare at him, adorable lines scrunching her forehead. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
I’ve never met anyone like you—truth.
“Good.” He grinned and kissed her nose.
She reached for him, her fingers brushing his shoulder before she dropped her hands to her side.
The rejection hit him like a punch in the chest. He wanted her hands on him, wanted her to get as much pleasure from touching his skin as he received from exploring hers. “I didn’t mean that you couldn’t touch me at all.”
“Why don’t you lie down on the bed,” Fiona suggested. “I’ll give you a massage.”
I’ll give you a massage—truth.
The pressure on his chest eased, but another took its place. A massage was a great way to keep her hands on him, but he wasn’t sure he had the control not to let it quickly spiral straight into sex.
“Forget I said anything,” she said. “You wanted to do things your way.”
He hadn’t replied quickly enough, and she’d assumed he’d turned her down. He would lose her if he stripped the control away from her.
“A massage sounds like a great idea.” He wanted to slide his hands down her pale cheeks and watch them flush with arousal. He longed to drive her so wild with desire that her nails dug into his skin. Instead, he toed off his sandals and lay on his stomach on the middle of the bed.
He held his breath, hoping she’d give him the offered massage, not walk out on him. For a moment, she didn’t move. Then the bed dipped, and she sat alongside him. She began by rubbing his ankles. Her hair brushed his calves, and her thigh pressed against the side of his ass through their clothes.
She propped a bare foot not far from his face, and he turned on his side to wrap a hand around her ankle. He drew her closer and pressed his lips to her delicate anklebone.
Fiona hesitated in her ministrations. “I’m supposed to be massaging you.”
His slid a single finger up her smooth calf to her knee under her black and green patterned skirt. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Y—No.”
No—truth. He rejoiced not just for what she wanted but that she’d trusted him enough to admit the truth. “Good. Because I like touching you. You’re smooth as silk. You warm places I didn’t even know were cold.”
Fiona shivered, as she began to knead the backs of his calves. “You won’t be cold when I’m done with you.”
Truth again. Of course.
“I’m already hot,” he said. “How about you?”
“Yes.” She kneaded her way up his thighs.
Yes—lie.
Damn. His cock throbbed and pressed against the confines of his shorts, desperate for attention. He couldn’t remember ever craving a touch so much. He wanted to sink into her until she exploded his entire world. And she wasn’t even hot for him.
He sat up abruptly and shifted his legs out of her reach. Fiona was already half-lounging back, touching him while giving him access to her leg. He turned her easily on her back, elevating her leg to his shoulder.
She lifted her head off the mattress to meet his gaze. “What are you doing? I wasn’t done.”
“You can have another turn. You were getting ahead of me. I need to catch up.” Or more correctly, he was ahead of her and needed to help her catch up. He shifted to sit between her legs, pushing her skirt out of the way. Slowly, he massaged smooth strokes from her ankle to the top of thigh. He caressed her to the elastic edge of her panties.
Her hands fisted in the bedspread. “I want my turn now.”
I want my turn now—lie.
She delivered it with conviction though. He stretched his legs on either side of her, so she could hold onto him instead of the bed. Then he circled each of her legs at the ankle and glided in tandem along her calves, over her knees and across her thighs. He took his time, moving slower the further up he went.
Fiona gasped and clasped his ankles.
He slowly traveled back down her legs, and she sighed. She wiggled her ass and brushed her fingers along his thighs. “I want you naked and inside me.”
I want you naked and inside me—lie.
He squeezed his eyes closed. He’d thought he could prove with his touch what she wouldn’t believe in words. Instead, she continued to lie to him, while he longed for her words to be true.
“Foreplay,” he reminded her. “We haven’t even gotten to kissing yet.”
“That’s because you can’t kiss me when we’re lying like this.”
“Sure I can.” Finally, something he could prove with certainty. He lifted her left leg and pressed his mouth to the arch of her foot. He raised her leg higher and kissed the back of her ankle, savoring her taste and his great view.
“Okay, fine. Now we’ve kissed.” She raised her hips and yanked down her panties. “Fuck me please.”
Fuck me please—lie.
He averted his gaze. He wouldn’t indulge in anything she didn’t want to give him, even if it killed him. He was beginning to suspect it might. Leaving the half-off panties in place at mid-thigh, he lay on top of her. His rock hard erection inside his shorts pressed against her pelvis, still covered by her skirt.
She instinctively stiffened.
He bit back a string of curses and dug deep for more control than he’d ever needed before. Why was she begging for something she didn’t want any part of?
He propped his elbows on either side of her face and leaned down. Kissing her hard and full on the mouth, he threw everything he had into convincing her not to think, to just want. Want him.
He kissed her until she was panting and digging her nails into his back. He gentled the kiss to a soft exploration, and she rewarded him with an incoherent moan. Her body turned lax and pliant beneath him. When he lifted his hips, hers arched in response, attempting to keep the close contact.
Armando kissed his way down her neck against the hollow of her throat.
She moaned louder and slid her hands under his shirt. “Please. I want to feel you bare against my chest.”
I want to feel you bare against my chest—truth.
Finally, he wasn’t the only one with needs; she returned a piece of his desire, however small. He rose above her and disposed of his shirt, enjoying her gaze feasting on his abs and pecs.
She began working the buttons on her blouse, but he nudged her hands away, wanting the pleasure for himself. He opened her shirt, admiring the lacy bra against her creamy skin.
“You’re so beautiful. Perfect.” He reached for the front clasp.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” she scoffed. “I’ve already made it clear you can get into my panties whenever you want—the sooner the better.”
Don’t say things you don’t mean—truth.
<
br /> I’ve already made it clear you can get into my panties whenever you want—truth.
The sooner the better—lie.
By Apollo, God of Truth, women were complicated creatures. Unable to make sense of how to proceed without ruining what he’d accomplished so far, Armando went back to what he knew worked. Good, old-fashioned, lots-of-tongue kissing. It certainly worked for him.
After the first minute, Fiona relaxed too. She caressed his back and hugged him closer.
He reached between their bodies and flicked the clasp on her bra. The cups fell open, and he covered one smooth orb with his hand. Fiona moaned and kissed him harder. He massaged her soft flesh, and she gasped, arching her back.
“Kiss me there,” she ordered.
Kiss me there—truth.
“Here?” He bent his head and kissed the top of breast.
“Yes.”
Yes—truth.
“Or here?” He bent lower and ran his tongue along the rounded underside.
“Yes.”
Yes—truth.
“Or here?” He drew her nipple into his mouth.
“Oh yes.” She grasped the back of his head, holding him tighter against her chest.
Oh yes—truth.
The taste and texture of her skin consumed him, preventing Armando from asking any more questions.
Chapter 9
IF THIS WAS WHAT SHE’D BEEN MISSING by skipping straight to sex, Fiona wasn’t sure she’d ever have actual sex again. Her body had gone completely boneless as Armando lavished attention from one breast to another. Her womanhood ached fiercely for completion, but she almost felt disappointed once he moved down to pay attention to it.
Her stupid psychic powers were going to ruin everything.
“Why are you tensing up? Are you afraid of me?” He reached under her skirt.
“No. I just want you. Now.” And she had, a moment ago. Her panties still strained at mid-thigh against her spread legs.
He freed them and stroked her inner thighs, just as he’d done earlier. Even knowing the foreplay she craved would end if he did, Fiona wanted Armando to touch her intimately. He caressed up to her nonexistent panty line, and she held her breath.
He stroked a single finger down her pubic hair and along her clitoris. “Yes or no?”
She jerked in surprise but then could do little more than moan at the beautiful sensation. “Yes. Yes.”
“Yes to this?” To her infinite pleasure, he repeated the motion. “Or yes to this?” With his other hand, he stroked the hollow of her very inner thigh.
“Yes.” Unable to articulate more, she lifted her hips.
He rewarded her by sliding a slick finger inside her.
“Yes.” Oh Goddess, yes.
“You could also choose this option.” He lifted her skirt over his head, and a moment later his mouth delivered the most delicious kiss she’d ever known.
He stroked and kissed her, interchanging his fingers and his tongue. The glorious, marvelous sensations swirled within her. He gave more than she could have asked for, yet she begged mindlessly for more. The wondrous, urgent pressure built inside her. Then he stroked her one final time, and she simply exploded, bucking and screaming his name.
She floated back to reality slowly. Through her fog, she first registered his fingers still deep inside her, completely comfortable in their new home. She blinked her eyes open. Armando watched her with such sweet tenderness her heart clenched.
“Good?” he asked.
“You have to ask?” Good didn’t begin to describe what they’d just done. She’d had no idea anything could ever feel so amazing, certainly not sex.
But they hadn’t actually had sex.
His hand moved against her core. He stroked her once, long and sweet.
Her desire flamed again. “Yes, good.” She moaned her pleasure. “So good. Now I want to give you what you want.”
He smiled and slowly removed his hand, leaving her with an aching sense of loss. “You’ve already given me everything I want.”
She’d given him nothing, and they both knew it. “But you haven’t—”
“Shh.” He placed a finger to her lips and lay down next to her on the bed, circling one arm around her. “Let’s just sleep together.”
“It’s the middle of the day.”
“A nap then.” He closed his eyes.
Fiona stared at him, but he didn’t open his eyes. She could unzip his pants and try to convince him he wanted sex. It couldn’t be that hard to do. But she didn’t want to. For the first time in any sexual encounter, she didn’t feel dirty or used. She wanted to curl next to him and enjoy the amazing afterglow of the mind-blowing orgasm he’d given her.
She’d thought Orgasmic Psychics were incapable of orgasms. She’d never experienced one before. But since he had only penetrated her with his hand, her psychic powers hadn’t activated. He’d given her more pleasure than she’d dreamed possible, but he’d also robbed her of her one true power.
She had no idea what he was thinking. She had no answers as to why the head of the Department of Truth-Finding wanted to question Lizbet and Philippe’s Vetter. And without traditional penis-in-the-vagina sex, she had no way to find out if she was safe or not.
She squeezed her eyes shut. If he suspected her vetting powers were fake, he could be planning to prosecute her for faking a power or, worse, charge her in Lizbet’s murder. But seducing him hadn’t given her any answers, except the proof that she already missed his hands and mouth on her body and wanted to experience it again.
Lifting his arm, she scooted off the bed away from him. Standing barefoot on the cool hardwood floor, she smoothed her skirt over her ass and reclasped her bra.
“Leaving?” Armando whispered sleepily.
“Yes.” She paused a moment to see if he would reach for her. If he did, she would make sure they had sex this time.
But his eyes remained closed, and he lay relaxed, sprawled across the bed. Fiona crossed the empty hall, entered her own room, and locked the door behind her. Inside her bathroom, she locked that door too.
Oh Goddess, what had she done? She’d tried to have sex, and she’d ended up having an orgasm…and nearly losing her heart to this man. Her despised powers had failed her when she most needed them. Her psychic soulmate had turned out to be her biggest enemy, the last person she could ever allow to know the truth about her.
“Fiona, please answer.” Armando knocked on her bedroom door again, cursing himself for letting her leave his room earlier. But she hadn’t bought his ridiculous nap suggestion. If she’d stayed, she would have initiated sex, and he’d had no more control left to stop her even when he knew she didn’t want him.
Unfortunately, he really had ended up napping after she left, and now sundown was approaching, bringing with it the portal opening. He didn’t want to leave her without saying goodbye. Hell, he didn’t want to leave at all. But he sure didn’t want Rekkus to drag him out.
The door abruptly opened, and Fiona stood in front of him, wearing another long skirt, this one pale blue. He couldn’t help speculating whether she wore panties under it.
“Where are you going?” Her gaze locked on his overcoat and duffle bag.
“Home.”
Her gray eyes widened. “Why?”
“I got kicked off the island.”
“Because of what we did in there?” She gestured to his room. “That’s ridiculous. It’s none of their business, and I’m just as guilty as you.”
“Nothing to do with that,” he assured her, even though he enjoyed her indignation on his behalf. But the truth made him hesitate. He had minutes before he had to leave. He didn’t know when he’d ever see her again, and he wanted to be completely honest with her.
He extended his hands, palm up. “Solving the murder of Lizbet Jinsin and bringing Philippe Mason to justice was my one chance to redeem the Department of Truth-Finding both in the eyes of the government and to people like you, who think my power is laughable.
”
Fiona bit her lip. “I’m sorry I laughed. Come in and close the door.”
He did. For her, he was willing to take his chances with angering Cyrus and Rekkus if he was late to the portal.
“I don’t think your power is laughable. I think it’s very useful and honorable, and I hope you can bring Lizbet’s killer to justice.” She paused and then took a deep breath, as if coming to a critical decision. “You need to touch me for your truth power to work?”
He nodded.
She squared her shoulders, and then reached for his hands. “When I met Philippe, he was such a nice man. He practically had stars in his eyes every time he looked at Lizbet. They seemed so in love. I couldn’t believe he would be capable of this.”
“You were their Vetter?” Armando clarified.
She nodded. Then she squeezed his hands again. “Yes, I was. But it’s not that simple. I have no vetting powers. I never have. I used my intuition and conversations with the couple I was vetting to make my assessment on their future lifebond.”
Truth.
“After I got to know you, I assumed you were just bad at using your powers,” Armando admitted, wanting to trust her with his truths when she was giving him so much. “I wasn’t that far off.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. “I was considered one of the best. I made careful, thorough assessments and had always been right. My mother knew the truth, but she’s been dead for years. No one else, not even my father, guessed I was a fraud.”
Truth again.
“I talked with Lizbet and Philippe over several visits. He would randomly reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear. She would finish his sentences, and then they’d both laugh and end up kissing. I genuinely believed they would be happy together. I was as devastated as anyone when I learned he had murdered her.”
Truth. Every word.
“I don’t expect any special leniency from your department over what I’ve done. But I swear to you I will never vet another lifebond again.”
I swear to you I will never vet another lifebond again—truth. A truth that broke her heart. It broke Armando’s heart to hear it too.