Beautiful Lies (The Beautiful Series Book 2)

by Emery Rose

  I felt her hands on my back and then her arms wrapped around my waist, her cheek pressed against my back. I scrubbed both hands over my face.

  “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” I asked, dropping all pretense of being calm.

  “I just wanted to forget.”

  Yeah, I understood that. I’d tried to do the same thing so many times in my life. But the truth always had a way of coming out. I unclasped her hands and pulled her around to face me. “You wouldn’t have had to go through it alone. If you’d told me—”

  “We were fourteen. I couldn’t even bring myself to say the words. And you’re a guy. I was too embarrassed.”

  “You’ve had ten years to tell me. Instead, I had to find out from that scumbag.”

  “You wouldn’t let me give you a blowjob tonight.”

  As soon as I’d walked in the door, she’d unbuttoned my jeans and knelt in front of me. Like she had something to prove. It had felt so wrong. “I don’t want you on your knees for me.”

  She shook her head in frustration like I wasn’t getting it. “It’s my choice. I wanted to do it. If you give a bully the power, they’ve won. You, of all people, should understand that.”

  Ava was right. After a lifetime of being bullied, I should have grasped that concept sooner. I watched her pull off her sweatshirt, exposing a sheer white tank top, her red bra visible underneath. She pushed down her black leggings, stepping out of one leg and then the other before kicking them aside. Her tank top joined the other clothes on the floor and now she was standing in front of me in nothing but a lacy red bra and matching underwear. She’d worn them for me.

  “In the diner,” she said. “What I wanted to tell you is that none of the other guys ever mattered. Nobody ever came close to you. And Jake doesn’t matter either. I’ve put it behind me.”

  I wrapped my arms around her and felt her soft, warm skin under my hands. The rise and fall of her chest against mine. I was conscious that I was holding something precious in my arms. Something irreplaceable. And I was reminded, once again, how tiny Ava was. But she was fierce and strong and brave, too.

  I’d been through enough shit in my life to know that when you were being offered a second shot at something, you took it. And you did everything in your power to make sure you didn’t fuck it up.

  I took her hand in mine and led her to the bedroom. She lay on the bed, her head propped on her hand and watched me undress.

  “Come here, lover,” she said, her voice low and sultry, teasing. I chuckled as she crawled to the edge of the bed and knelt in front of me. She wrapped her hand around the base of my cock, her eyes on mine as she wet her lips and lowered her head, guiding me inside her warm mouth. Jesus. Her mouth was like heaven. Her other hand grabbed my ass, her short nails digging into my skin. I wrapped my hands in her silky soft hair, holding the back of her head as she sucked and teased, rolling the barbell with her tongue. My balls were drawn up so tight and the suction of her mouth as she deep-throated me was so fucking hot I forgot about everything else and just went with it. But I didn’t want to come in her mouth.

  I pulled out and she looked up at me, ready to fight me on it. “I want to be inside you.”

  She shimmied out of her underwear, eager for the same thing. “How do you want to fuck me?” she asked, still using her bedroom voice. It was another side to Ava. The dirty talk, the loud moans and screams. She never held back on any of it.

  I pushed her back against the mattress, bent her legs at the knees and spread her legs, putting my head between her thighs. Her fingers tugged my hair and she screamed yes, yes, yes when I bit her clit then flattened my tongue against the tight bundle of nerves, teasing the orgasm out of her before I fucked her with my tongue. Her body spasmed and her thighs clamped around my head like a vice before she went boneless, her legs shaking and her body limp. I kissed my way up to her mouth, my tongue parting her lips to give her a taste of the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted. She wrapped her arms around my neck and arched her back, her tits flat against my chest, my cock jumping as she kissed me long and hard.

  I pulled away and sat back on my knees, flipping her onto her stomach. She got on her elbows and knees, ready for me, and knowing what I wanted without having to ask. I fisted my length, dragging the tip through her wetness before I finally entered her. I rolled my hips, thrusting inside her and she pushed her ass against me, taking me in deeper. Sweet Jesus. If I could stay here forever, I would. I reached around and fingered her clit as I moved inside her.

  “Oh God,” she moaned. “Connor…” She sank onto the mattress, her ass in the air, her arms wrapped around her pillow, face pressed into it.

  My grip tightened on her hips, her muscles contracting around me, and her soft moans sent me over the edge, bringing me to an orgasm that was so intense I was temporarily blinded.

  20

  Ava

  I woke up to the scent of bacon and checked my phone for the time, surprised that I’d slept until ten. Connor was not only awake but cooking breakfast? I’d always been a morning person, but Connor used to sleep until noon. I dressed in a tank top and sweats, not bothering with underwear or a bra then darted into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

  Go, Ava. You’re rocking that bedhead. And check out the rosy afterglow. It wasn’t really an afterglow. It was beard burn from Connor’s stubble. But I couldn’t wipe the stupid-ass grin off my face as I wrangled my hair into a messy ponytail. Multiple orgasms would do that to a girl.

  Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I padded across the hardwood floors, the scent of bacon making my mouth water, and found Connor in the kitchen, his jeans riding low on his hips, the sleeves of his gray thermal pushed up to his elbows, exposing the ink on his forearms. Oh God, he was sexy. I leaned my hip against the doorframe, watching him. Reveling at the sight of him in my kitchen, filling up the space that had been so empty without him. He turned from the stove, a lazy grin on his face, the bruises barely noticeable now. I watched his eyes darken as his gaze settled on my sheer tank top. “Morning, babe.”

  “Good morning. You went shopping?” I asked, noticing the plate of fruit—sliced nectarines, strawberries, and blueberries. Not to mention the bacon which I knew hadn’t been in my refrigerator.

  “Yep.”

  I wandered over to my kitchen table by the window and stared at the wildflowers Connor had put in a cobalt blue earthenware jug. Flowers. At a table already set for two, the cutlery resting on paper napkins folded into triangles. I knew which one was mine, the one with a bluebird drawn on it. My hand flew to my chest and I held it against my hammering heart that threatened to burst free and fly right across the room and into his magic hands.

  Take my heart, I’d say. It’s yours and it always has been. Keep it safe.

  I lowered myself onto the cane-backed chair and drew my knees to my chest. The radiator under my window hissed and clanged, warming up my kitchen. Pale sunlight filtered through the window. The scent of basil, thyme, and mint from the potted herbs on my windowsill mingled with the scent of melted butter and coffee and bacon. My kitchen felt cozy and warm and my life felt so much fuller. I watched Connor pour pancake batter into the sizzling pan. He flipped on the electric kettle, the spatula in his other hand and I watched his every move in fascination, my chin propped on my knees.

  “I love pancakes.” I sounded like an idiot. As if he didn’t already know I loved pancakes and crispy bacon.

  “I know. That’s why I’m making them.”

  I didn’t know what to think about any of this, so I just sat there, staring at his back, at his broad shoulders, at the flex of his arms. My gaze ventured lower. Connor had a great ass.

  He turned from the stove and I lifted my gaze to his eyes, catching the gleam in them. His lips curved into a smile. “You were checking out my ass.”

  I snorted like the very idea was ridiculous. “No, I wasn’t.”

  In a few steps, he was standing in front of me. He swiped his thumb over the corner of my mo
uth. “Drool,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m starving. If I’m drooling, it’s because of the food.” Liar. I flapped my hand at him. “Your pancakes are burning.” He chuckled and returned to the stove. I scrolled through my playlists, opting for a happy, chilled compilation. The Beatles’ “Here Comes the Sun” played from my speakers in the living room and I cranked up the volume, letting the music fill our souls. Brighten up an already perfect morning.

  “Pour me some coffee, wench.”

  I laughed and wandered over to the coffee maker, brand new and obviously purchased by Connor this morning on his shopping spree. “How presumptuous of you,” I said, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard. “Why would I need a coffee maker?”

  “To keep your man happy.”

  “You’re my man now? That was quick.”

  “Baby, ten years is a marathon, not a sprint.”

  True. I smiled as I poured his coffee, got milk from the fridge and added it until it turned the color he liked it. Grabbed the bag of sugar on the counter and a spoon from the drawer.

  “No sugar,” he said.

  My hand stilled, the spoonful of sugar poised over his cup of coffee. “You don’t put three sugars in your coffee anymore?”

  “Nope. Lean proteins, vegetables, Greek yogurt, fruit…”

  I groaned and poured the sugar back in the bag. “You’re on the Killian diet.” I set the mug on the counter next to him. “You used to be a sugar junkie.”

  “I’m not a junkie anymore, babe. But I still got junk,” he said, grabbing his crotch.

  I snorted laughter while I fixed myself a cup of green tea.

  “I didn’t hear any complaints about my body last night.” There was nothing to complain about. His body was amazing, the best it’s ever been. The last time we’d been together, at the tail end of his addiction, he’d been too thin and when he’d been with me, naked in my bed, it had felt like I’d been holding on to someone else. A shadow of his former self. Nothing is more heart-breaking than watching the person you love destroy themselves. His body. His mind. His personality. Changed by the poison he injected into his veins.

  But I didn’t want to mention that now or do anything to spoil our day. I’d leave that memory in the past where it belonged. We were making new memories. Good ones.

  “Your body is fucking fantastic, by the way,” he said, giving me a playful swat on the butt.

  I accepted the compliment with a smile and carried my tea to the table as Connor served our food—a stack of pancakes topped with fruit, three strips of bacon next to it. I laid the bacon on top of my pancakes and poured syrup over it, laughing when I noticed Connor had done the same thing.

  Eating breakfast together felt so right and so good. It had been so long since we’d slept in the same bed together all night. So long since we’d done any of the typical couple things. I wanted to bottle up this happiness and store it for rainy days. Over breakfast, we laughed and talked about nothing important and it felt as if we’d laid to rest everything that had happened with Jake and Lana and Zeke.

  “So… what are you doing before work?” I asked after we’d cleared the dishes and stacked the dishwasher.

  “Not sure. I need to check my spreadsheet.”

  I laughed. Connor hooked an arm around my waist and pulled me against him. “We need a shower,” he said.

  “We?”

  “Mhm. You’re a dirty girl.”

  Connor lifted me off the ground, threw me over his shoulder and jogged toward my bedroom. I pounded my fists against his back, laughing. “What are you doing?”

  He tossed me on the bed and stripped naked then helped me out of my clothes and led me into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he checked the water temperature with his hand before we stepped into the tub and slid the glass door shut. Connor guided me under the spray and I tipped back my head, letting the water run over my hair while his hands soaped my body. I took the shower gel out of his hand and squeezed some into my palm, soaping his body the way he’d done to mine. A very thorough job. My hand wrapped around his hard dick and I slid it up and down. He groaned as he squeezed shampoo into his hand.

  “I’ll have the cleanest dick in Brooklyn,” he said.

  “All the better for me to suck on it,” I said with a wink.

  “Close your eyes, wench.” I laughed as he lathered my hair with shampoo and massaged my scalp with his magic hands. I was purring with delight. Putty in his hands.

  Connor tipped back my head, rinsing away the shampoo then repeated the process with conditioner. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him under the spray of the water, my hip pressed against his erection. He lifted me up and my legs wrapped around his waist as he pushed me up against the tiled wall and slid inside me, his hands squeezing my ass, our kisses wet and frantic.

  My muscles clenched around him as the orgasm rocked my body. Connor came inside me, placing his palm on the wall for support. I opened my eyes and blinked as the world rushed back and Connor’s face came into focus. He gave me a big smile that reached his eyes and lit up his whole face and then we were laughing for no reason.

  I’ve missed you, Connor. It’s so good to have you back.

  21

  Connor

  Over the past two weeks with Ava, I was starting to believe that I could be her everything. I could be the guy she’d always deserved. The shop was successful, my cravings were under control, and my girl was happy. I knew it by the way she smiled every time she saw me. By the way she called me when she was at work and left adorable messages to let me know she was thinking about me. We hadn’t said those three words yet, but I tried to show her that I loved her so that when I did say them again, she’d know they weren’t empty. She needed to know that I was someone she could rely on. Someone she could trust. Someone who wasn’t lying to her or keeping secrets.

  I knew I needed to tell her the truth about Miami, but everything was so good right now that I didn’t want to ruin it by bringing up more bad memories. Some days it felt like Miami had just been a bad dream and as my life got better, the dream got hazier. I’d tell her. But not tonight.

  She wrapped her arms around me from behind and I pulled down my mask, looking at her over my shoulder.

  “Are you bored yet?” I asked, setting down the spray paint can.

  “Never. I love watching you paint. They’re amazing, babe.”

  She hadn’t called me babe in years. I loved that she’d said it now, the word rolling off her tongue as if it was natural. “Because the subject is amazing,” I said.

  She came to stand next to me as she studied the art. She’d been hanging out here with me every night while I painted. After the shop closed. After we ate a late dinner together. After we fucked in the kitchen, her bare ass on the counter. Or she straddled me in a chair like last night. Tonight, I’d taken her to our sushi place and she’d fed me salmon sashimi slathered with wasabi then we’d fucked in the unisex restroom. Instead of her usual screams and moans, she’d sunk her teeth into my shoulder, biting down so hard she’d drawn blood that seeped through my T-shirt. I could still feel the sting from her teeth marks. We were crazy, Ava and me. I always thought we’d loved each other to the point of madness. Insanity, really. But I didn’t know any other way to love her except madly.

  "It’s me but not really me,” she said, referring to the paintings.

  These two pieces were loosely inspired by last week’s aerial silks class that she’d invited me to. I’d painted two Avas. Fire and Ice. She was right. They weren’t really her, but they were the essence of her. Ava on fire. A blur of movement and bursts of color. Flaming hair, billowing red silk, her face aglow, sparks shooting from her fingertips. Ava the ice queen. Silks suspended from a snow globe, silver hair and swirling snow, a bluebird perched on her shoulder.

  “They’re the best pieces you’ve ever done,” she said, her voice hushed as if she was in church, her breath coming out in white puffs.

  She shivered, and I wra
pped my arms around her, thinking it was from the cold. “All done here. Go inside and get warm. I’ll be right in. I just need to clean up.”

  “I’m not cold,” she said, tipping her head back to look at me, her face lit up in the glow of the floodlights, her cheeks rosy from the cold. And those goddamn eyes. I swear I could get lost in those eyes. “Just happy.” Ava gave me a smile that could light up the night sky. And I knew exactly what I’d paint next.

  “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” I said.

  “Kiss me like you mean it,” she said, her eyes at half-mast, her body leaning into mine.

  I held her face in my hands and tipped it up to mine before I lowered my mouth to hers.

  My phone rang, and Ava picked it up from the counter, checking the screen before she answered it. “Hey, Killian. What’s up?”

  She rolled her eyes and I chuckled as she sighed. “We’ve been back together for weeks now. Get with the program.” Her brows drew together as she listened to whatever Killian was dishing out. “I’m not. Things are good. Doesn’t Eden talk to you? I thought she told you everything.”

  Ava listened for a moment then winced. “Oops. Um, tell her I’m sorry. It’s just…oh hey, Eden. You know I love you. When you get back, we’ll work on our fabulous Pinterest board and we’ll iron out all the details. And we’ll go shopping for dresses and…” Ava stopped and nibbled on her fingernail. “I’m not going to say it.”

  She rolled her eyes again. “Fine. You were right. Happy now? If you’re looking for a smackdown, I’m pretty sure I can take you.”

  I snorted laughter and Ava stuck her tongue out at me. “Real mature, babe.”

  “You’re just saying that because you’re the teacher’s pet,” Ava told Eden. “But I’ve got mad skills. Ask Connor.” She smirked at me and I smacked her ass as she said goodbye and handed me the phone.