Little Lies

by Elena M. Reyes

  I’m in tune with his movements. With the way his eyes traverse my short frame, from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes and back again.

  And what I find more disconcerting is the absence of my shyness.

  Where did it go? Why is it that I feel so at home with a man that for all intents and purposes is a stranger to me, in nothing but the oversized shirt he gave me? No panties. No bottoms. Nothing but the threat of the slickness on my thighs leaving a spot for him to find after I get down.

  He’s dangerous. So dangerous for me.

  “Let me see your foot.” Not a question, but a command. Amber eyes on mine, he glides the tips of two fingers down my injured leg until reaching my foot. Goose bumps rise across my body; his touch spreads through every limb and then settles in my core.

  Christ, I clench. Hard. It nearly hurts and I bite my bottom lip, something he takes for pain and not the unknowing pleasure I feel. “It’s just a bruise. It’ll be good in a day or two.”

  He ignores the breathiness in my tone, choosing instead to drop to his haunches and inspect the area. Theodore is so close. A subtle shift of my hips and I’d be nothing more than a virgin offering, but I squeeze my thighs instead and hold my breath.

  “It’s so pink and already swollen.” Tone gravelly, his nose flares a bit when he swipes a finger across the tender spot, pulling a hiss from me. I also move a bit without thinking, not that he’ll see anything. At least I hope I’m not flashing him. “Would me kissing it make you feel better?”

  Around him, my mind lives in the naughtiest of spaces and I almost beg him to. Almost. But I’m sure what I’m thinking and what he said have two very different connotations.

  “That’s okay.”

  “Are you sure?” He’s looking up at me through thick black lashes and God help me, I bite my cheek to keep in the embarrassing sound that almost slips through. I even find the way his throat bobs harshly so sexy. “A kiss and ice would fix you right up.”

  I’d definitely need the ice to cool off. You’re killing me. “Yes.”

  “As you wish.” But then he does something that’s so much worse. It’s a total destruction of my senses. One small and tender flick of his tongue makes me forget the world around me and my bare pussy; I can’t stop the way my back arches and hips jut forward a bit, just enough to flash him a second before he stands and hovers over me.

  Right against me. Trapping me.

  Theodore’s clenched hands are on the stone countertop and his face a few centimeters from mine. His exhales become my inhale, and the hooded look in his eyes makes me shake. I tingle from head to toe—clit throbbing—and the man has barely touched me.

  I need to stop this. But won’t. Can’t.

  “Better?” he asks, coming a little closer, his stare flicking between my green eyes and my lips. Something unintelligible leaves me as a response, and he nods as if it were the most eloquent thing he’s ever heard. There’s also a bit of a smirk, the knowing look of a man who knows he’s a walking temptation. “Then you should get dressed and meet me back in the living room in ten. Tero should be on his way up with your pup soon.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ve also ordered breakfast for you.”

  “Okay.”

  “After he leaves, I’ll drive you home myself...” his cheek rubs against mine, lips at my ear “...and make sure everything’s okay for you to go back. Do you trust me to do so, Gabriella? To take care of you any way I see fit?”

  “Okay,” I say again, too distracted by his nearness.

  “Good girl.”

  19

  Theodore

  She’s sitting beside me with her ever-loyal companion on her lap; he eyes me while she stares outside the window, lost in thought. Every once in a while her lips move but no sound comes out, her nose scrunches up but I don’t know why and it’s driving me insane.

  Because with her—when it comes to her—there’s always this innate need to know it all. Every last thought. Every reason behind her actions. To be the one that is there while helping her when the time comes.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, my voice low inside the car so as to not startle her.

  “What?” Her head turns in my direction and her expression is calm. She looks at peace. So fucking gorgeous, and at the same time unaware. Still wearing my clothes that are clearly several sizes too large, Gabriella is the epitome of stunning in her natural splendor. No makeup or perfume or revealing clothing is needed to showcase her ethereal beauty. “Did you ask something?”

  “I did.” Taking the next left, I turn down the street of her home. It’s located at the end and on the corner with the driveway to the left of her front door where a garage remains closed. Pulling in, I put the car in park and then turn to look at her. “What’s going on? You seem lost in your head.”

  “Thinking.”

  “About?” I hedge.

  “That I need some coffee desperately.” Gabriella is lying, but I don’t call her out on it. Not yet. Instead, I get out of the car and come around to her side. I pull it open and extend a hand. “Come on. You make that coffee while I check the backyard and property for anything left behind that needs to be trashed.”

  “Trashed?”

  “Police tape or garbage from the day.” Her expression is one of confusion, and after helping her and the dog in her arms down from the car, I walk us up the front steps with her bag from the hospital in my hand. From the corner of her eyes, she squints at me in waiting. “Yes?”

  “Be more specific, please.”

  “I will after you answer my question first,” I say, which she furrows her brows at, but then the realization hits soon enough and I’m slapped in the arm. “Violence doesn’t solve anything, Miss Moore.”

  “Quit being too good at turning things around on me.”

  “Then be a little more open and don’t make me use the power of the Jedi mind trick on you.”

  “Seriously?” Laughter bubbles out of Gabriella, her head thrown back and shoulders shaking. “Jedi mind trick?”

  “Are you mocking me, woman?”

  “I can’t breathe!” Another slap to my arm and then she’s putting the dog on the ground as she bends forward, hands on her knees. She’s cracking up, completely overtaken by something that isn’t that funny, but if it’s what she needs, I’ll gladly supply the amusement.

  Seeing her like this warms my chest. So carefree. So at ease.

  “Are you done?”

  “Almost. I swear.” Another bout of giggles. She’s wiping her eyes while straightening up, her expression a bit sheepish. “I have no idea why I find that so funny coming from you.”

  “Why?”

  “Just can’t see you as a Star Wars fan...that’s all.” Gabriella unlocks her door and Mr. Pickles is the first to enter, not sparing us a second look while hightailing it somewhere up the stairs. “Huh. Usually, he’s whining for a treat right about now.”

  “A treat?” We walk straight through the main living areas and into the kitchen where I place her bag with the few belongings she had at the hospital. “What kind of snacks do dogs eat?”

  I’m playing along with her, taking the opening as it presents itself. And this is one of those instances because while I might not own a dog, I do understand the reward system for a trusted companion. Human or animal, it’s all the same, and you give to those that are truthful and deserving of your time and affection.

  “Not a pet person?”

  “I am, but not the conventional kind.” My answer piques her interest, and I can almost see the questions forming in her mind, but shake my head. “I’m still waiting for an answer, Miss Moore. Tit for tat is the only way I play.”

  “You sly devil.” It’s a bit of a sneer, but I smirk at her veiled insult. So cute. “Fine. But I swear you asked for this, and I need some coffee first. Do you want a cup?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Green eyes give me a questioning look. “I didn’t see you eat or drink anything today
.”

  “That’s because I rose at seven and you slept in until late. My schedule can be quite rigid, and that includes eating.”

  “Oh.” That’s all she says, but I can tell there’s more she wants to ask.

  “Go ahead, sweetheart.” My words cause a small tinge of pink to blossom on her cheeks, and the color is lovely on her skin. I’d like to see it in other places—her perky ass being one of them. “I’ll answer any questions you may have.”

  “Are you on some kind of special diet?”

  “You can say that, but it’s more of a lifestyle change. The more organized I am in all aspects of my life, the more I accomplish.”

  “A lifestyle?”

  “Rise early, meals only during certain hours, and eight hours of sleep every night, no excuse.”

  “Oh! You mean like fasting?”

  “Yes.”

  “Cool beans. Does it work?” Gabriella walks to the coffee machine and sets it up, grabbing a large cup from the cupboard with some design on the front. “The fasting, I mean. It was trending all over social media a few months back and I was pretty curious, but when it comes to food, I’m too weak to abstain if a chocolate cupcake was to appear before me.”

  I shake my head, a chuckle slipping past my lips. “It’s like everything else in life. You struggle at first, and then it becomes second nature.”

  “That’s true, but...”

  She trails off as I walk toward her, stopping only when we’re face to face. Almost chest to chest. “Gabriella, answer my questions. What were you thinking about in the car that had you so lost inside your head?” I cup her face with my right hand, thumb caressing her jaw. “Are you in trouble? Do you need help?”

  “It’s nothing like that...” she swallows hard, eyes becoming a slightly darker shade of green “...it’s silly, I swear.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Can’t a girl have secrets?”

  “She can when I know it doesn’t involve her safety, Gabriella. That’s something I’ll never gamble on.”

  “I have nightmares, Theodore.”

  “Nightmares?”

  “Yeah.” Again, she blushes while attempting to duck her head but I don’t allow her to. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about with me. Never with me.

  “Go on, beautiful. I’m here to listen and will never judge you.”

  Gabriella takes in a deep breath and nods, letting it out slowly after. Her eyes are on mine. “I’ve been having the craziest dreams for a year now and it’s always the same, or lately, a variation of it.” When I don’t say anything, she takes that as a sign to continue. “Same room. Same house. The same voice asking me questions or talking to me as if we know each other intimately, and yet, last night, nothing. Without taking my sleeping medication, I literally passed out and just slept, and Theodore, for the first time in a long time, I feel rested. Truly rested.”

  “That’s a good thing.”

  “That’s an amazing thing, and what I was thinking about on the drive.” Before I can reply, there’s a sudden crash upstairs and the sound of something heavy falling over. Those innocent eyes widen, and I take off before she can attempt to do the same. Mr. Pickles is barking, his little growls not intimidating in the least, but I’ll give the guy credit for bravado.

  Footsteps follow me up the stairs and onto the landing, but before she can attempt to move past me, I place a hand on her stomach. “Wait here.”

  “Are you crazy, that’s my dog and—”

  “Gabriella, I’m not asking. We don’t know what’s in there, so wait here.” My voice comes out harsher than I intend, but the situation hits home for her. We don’t know what or who is here, and I’d rather she stay out here where it’s safe. “I’ll be back.”

  “Don’t let anything happen to my dog.”

  “He’ll always be safe with me.” When she gives me her nod, I follow the sound of her dogs bark inside the last room on this floor. His body’s half in the room and half out, his yips a little funny, but I understand once I’m at the door. “Oh, buddy. You’re in trouble now.”

  The culprit is none other than her dog and a paint can, the latter splattered all over the floor of what looks to be her home studio. The shade is bright blue and has stained him, leaving little paw prints on the wood and when she steps beside me, I feel bad for him.

  “Mr. Pickles!” she yells out, causing him to stop and look up with the most pathetic eyes I’ve ever seen on an animal. “What did I tell you about touching my experiment jar? This is the third time, dude, and now it’s bath time before a timeout.”

  And bath time sets him off, the little shit running off and disappearing down the hall and into another room.

  Gabriella isn’t happy, huffing while walking past me. “I swear, if it’s not one thing, it’s another. My life was never so exciting before, and I miss the quiet.”

  “The joy of pets.”

  “Is this why you don’t have any?” She grabs a bottle of some cleaning solution and sprays the area, nearly drenching it before grabbing an old towel from the same place. Gabriella wipes it down, and the frown on her face while mumbling about her dog is quite cute.

  “My pets can’t be housed like domesticated ones can be.”

  Her hand pauses its cleaning action, and her head turns toward me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m the private owner of a conservation outside of the country that houses the largest collection of exotic animals in the world. These are animals that were once pets and when the owners couldn’t afford the maintenance or the city demanded they get rid of them, I took them in.”

  “You’re kidding,” she asks, her mess on the floor now forgotten.

  “Not at all.”

  “For real, or are you yanking my—”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Wow.” Her expressions flicker from shock to curious to awe in the span of five seconds. Gabriella rises onto the tips of her toes, jumping in place, and I can’t help but look at her breasts. The way they bounce. How perky they are with tiny little points that press against the fabric of my shirt she’s still wearing. “...visit it?

  “I’m sorry, what?” There’s no shame in my expression, and she doesn’t catch me looking either. The woman is too excited, rambling a bit, and I hold up both hands to pause her. “Slower, sweetheart. What were you saying?”

  “I said, Mr. Astor...is it open to the public?”

  “Yes and no.”

  Her perfectly sculpted brows furrow. “Yes and no?”

  “It’s not open to the public but would be for you. We can go after you—” This time, I’m interrupted and it’s Tero’s ringtone. He’s not one to interrupt me unless it’s important, and I don’t hesitate to pull a different phone from the one I let the detective use at the hospital. Only he and his wife have this number. “What?”

  “My apologies for the interruption. I know you’re still with Miss Moore, but something has come up that you need to see.” He sounds a little out of breath. Agitated. “Can I meet you at the office or penthouse in an hour?”

  “Office, and clear the building,” I say, my eyes watching Gabriella. She’s curious, a little worried, but tries to pretend she isn’t listening while bending to pick up the ruined towel. That one is tossed in the wastebasket before she grabs another, spraying more solution on the floor and repeating the process until it’s clean. “Can you swing by the penthouse and pick up the file atop my desk? There’s something in there we need to go over as well.”

  “Done.” The sound of a car door closing comes through the line before the start of an engine. “I’ll see you soon, and again, my apologies for the interruption.”

  “None needed. See you soon.”

  “If you need to go, it’s okay.” Picking up her cleaning supplies, she puts everything back where it goes and then turns to face me again, her hands twisting in front of her. “We’ve been here a while now and everything seems fine.”

  “Unfortunately, somethi
ng work related does need my attention, but I’m not leaving yet.”

  “No?”

  “No.” Holding a hand up, I let my eyes wander around the room and take in a few pieces. She’s truly gifted. Has a certain emotional touch to each painting that comes through the canvas and settles in your bones. “First, I promised you I’d look around and make sure that the cleanup crew I hired removed the mess left behind.”

  “What mess? Everything looks fine, and please don’t run late because of me.”

  “The forensics team was here, and your home was searched from top to bottom, especially the downstairs doors and backyard, for clues. They dusted for fingerprints while others combed the yard for any clue as to how he got here in the first place. All procedural, but I don’t want you to have to see or handle that.”

  “You’re too kind, Theodore.” There’s a hint of relief mixed with so much gratitude in her tone. She makes me feel like the saint I’m not. If anything, I’m selfish in my need to care for her, to shield her as best I can from what cannot be stopped. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

  “Only with you, Gabriella.” Taking the steps between us, I lean down and place my lips on her forehead. I breathe her in. Her natural sweetness with a hint of vanilla and cherries still lingers after showering at my home. “Only with you.”

  20

  King

  My pretty girl. My poor, trusting pretty girl.

  Because souls like hers aren’t meant for this world. No. They should only exist in a reality where they’re protected—cherished—and yet, most are destroyed before they’ve had the chance to shine.

  To grow and love. To relish in their freedom.

  To discover what makes them different from everyone in the crowd, but then again, there’s a beautiful lesson to be learned about true emotions. Because honest and pure don’t exist, but loyalty and death are two things that will never fail you.