Beyond The Lies

by Abbi Cook

  “Something tells me this isn’t the first time a man has wanted to smack the hell out of you, little one,” he says in a low voice that sends a chill through me.

  “Just do it so you can be the first man to do that to me, too. Today’s your day for firsts with me.”

  He wants to do it. I can tell by the way his arm shakes that he’s holding himself back. I can’t imagine why. After all that he’s done to me already, punching me would be nothing.

  Opening his mouth to say something, he remains silent for a long moment before pressing his lips together. He lowers his arm to his side and shakes his head.

  “Do you think you’d be able to say things like this with Tap or any others in that room this morning? And do you think they’d let you get away with hitting them and not beating the hell out of you?”

  Although I know the answer to both questions is no, I refuse to give him the satisfaction of letting him think he did something heroic earlier. “I have no idea. You’re all monsters, so I can’t say.”

  “I thought you were smart, Sophie, but I’m beginning to believe you’re not. The best you could hope for with any of them is they didn’t kill you because of that smart mouth of yours. I did what I did to make sure they all knew you’re mine. I wanted to make sure I could keep you safe.”

  “By forcing your cock down my throat?” I ask, unable to keep the words inside my mouth.

  King hangs his head and sighs, like hearing the truth of what he did bothers him. I can’t imagine why. All he had to do was stand there and enjoy himself. He wasn’t the one being dehumanized and treated like a sex slave.

  Seconds tick by while I wait for him to answer my question, but instead, he releases my arm and climbs off the couch. I watch as he picks up the knife and simply walks away, leaving me lying there hating that he has the freedom to just walk away and not answer for what he’s done.

  I want to follow him and make him say something. He shouldn’t be able to get away with not responding.

  For a minute, I stew on the couch, even more disgusted that he’s taken the bed back. I spent time changing the sheets so they wouldn’t smell like him, and now he’s in there stinking them up with his scent.

  By the time I get to his room, I’m ready for a fight. No, he’s not the first man to ever hit me. Well, not the first male, anyway. I didn’t lie when I said he had the distinction of being the first man to hit me. Kenny Jordan hitting me in the seventh grade doesn’t count.

  I fling open the door to see him standing next to the bed facing me. I don’t want to look below his shoulders, in case he hasn’t fixed himself and he’s still hanging out, but I can’t stop myself. My gaze drops to his crotch, which is thankfully covered by his black boxer briefs, and then I quickly raise it again to focus on his face.

  I hate that I was so curious about that part of him.

  “It’s rude to not answer a question you’ve been asked.”

  “I think it’s also considered rude to ogle a guy’s junk, but maybe that’s not what you were doing when you looked down my body,” he replies with a smile that tells me he’s enjoying this.

  But he shouldn’t be. I asked him a serious question. I want a serious answer.

  “Maybe if you didn’t lay around with it just hanging out.”

  His smile fades and he sighs like he’s bored with our conversation. “What do you want?”

  All of a sudden, I can’t ask him the question I need to. It’s almost as if the sight of him like this makes me feel foolish for needing some explanation for what he did. I know the answer already.

  “You said I could have the bed. I already changed the sheets so it doesn’t smell like you.”

  “Has anyone ever told you how charming you are, Sophie? You have a real way about you that makes a person feel good, you know that?”

  “So now it’s my duty to make you feel good? Does this responsibility go both ways?” I ask, my anger returning.

  His dark eyes sparkle, and he flashes me a smile that’s nothing less than sexy. “If you want me to make you feel good, I’m going to have to share the bed with you.”

  And that little comment makes me feel like I want to explode.

  “Do you think that’s funny? After what happened this morning, now you think you should joke around about anything having to do with sex?” I ask, my voice on the verge of cracking I’m so upset.

  As soon as I stop speaking, I see I may have pushed things too far. King takes three large steps and stops right in front of me mere inches away from my face. I fight the urge to look away when he stares down into my eyes but says nothing. The silence unnerves me, but I want him to see I’m not afraid of him.

  “None of this is fucking funny. Not the fact that I had to do what I did so none of those other guys would do worse, especially Tap, who gets off hurting pretty things like you. Not the part about being hated in my own home for doing what I could to protect you. And definitely not the fact that if I do fall asleep, I’m liable to be attacked by some knife-wielding madwoman who probably won’t kill me but might slice the top inch of my skin off. No, Sophie, none of this is funny to me.”

  His warm breath drifts across my face when he exhales after each sentence, each puff of air smelling like beer. I look up at him and wait for him to continue, but he falls silent right after saying my name.

  At least he didn’t call me little one.

  “Well, none of this is great for me either.”

  “Then maybe we can call a truce.”

  I don’t want to admit it, but I’m not against that idea. I just need to hear him say something else first before I can promise not to try to kill him in his sleep.

  But I won’t beg for an apology, just like I won’t beg for anything else. Not from King or anyone else in this world.

  When I don’t agree to his suggestion of a truce, he sighs and says, “Sophie, I swear I did what I did to keep you safe.”

  He doesn’t say I’m sorry, but it’s the closest I’m going to get. I’ll take it.

  Even if I don’t believe it.

  “Fine. I promise not to try to kill you while you sleep.”

  “How thoughtful.”

  “And I’ll go back to sleeping on the couch, if you want your bed back.”

  For a moment, he seems to consider my offer but then shakes his head. “No, you can have it. I said you could, so it’s yours.”

  “What about your leg? Shouldn’t you keep it elevated or something?”

  He smiles, and it lights up his face. “Is it that you want me to sleep in the bed with you, little one? Afraid of the dark?”

  “Why do you have to call me that? Why not just say Sophie?” I ask in frustration that every time we get close to being almost nice to one another he has to do something like this.

  “Are you afraid of the dark, Sophie?” he asks so seriously that I wonder if he’s still joking with me.

  “No, but what if your boss shows up and sees us not in the bed together? Won’t he think Tap can have the right to say he should be with me?”

  “That’s surprisingly shrewd. Okay, we’ll both sleep in here.”

  When he turns to walk back toward the bed, I can’t stop myself when my gaze roams over his body. This won’t be the first time King and I sleep in the same place, but he was hurt before and I didn’t have to worry about him trying anything. Now he’s not, and I know he’s feeling well enough to get hard.

  And what he said before about getting wet around him wasn’t wrong. I don’t know why or how, but just being near him makes me think of things I shouldn’t even consider.

  “He has no idea…no need…I’ve got things under control…”

  I wake up and King’s mumbling next to me. I listen to see if he’s speaking to me, but he seems to still be asleep.

  “I’ll let you know when. Don’t worry. I got her…”

  After a few moments, I figure he’s talking in his sleep, so I roll over and put the pillow over my head until he stops a minute later. Wid
e awake, I hear a noise that sounds like it’s coming from the living room. I lay there frozen in terror and wait to see if I hear it again. It sounded like footsteps. Is there someone else in the apartment?

  Turning toward King, I nudge his shoulder. “I think there’s someone out in the living room.”

  His eyes open, and he looks over at me. In the moonlight, I see he’s angry I’ve woken him. “What?”

  Pointing toward the bedroom door, I repeat what I said. “I think there’s someone out there.”

  He scrubs the sleep from his face and rolls out of bed. Staggering toward the door, he looks back at me and shakes his head. “I think you’re losing your mind, you know that.”

  When he reaches the door, he turns around and stares at me for a long moment. “This better not be some stupid attempt to overpower me, Sophie. If it is, I swear to God…”

  Just as I’m sure he’s about to threaten me with something worse than being held against my will, the sound of someone’s footsteps outside the bedroom comes through loud and clear. He hears it too and spins away from me to throw the door open. On his way out of the room, he grabs the knife he took from me off the dresser and then he’s swallowed up by the darkness of the hallway.

  “Who’s there?” he asks in a booming voice that terrifies me. I’ve never heard him sound like that.

  I wait to hear what will happen next, but there’s nothing but silence, except for the sound of his footsteps as he marches through the apartment. He returns to the bedroom, and I exhale, realizing I’ve been holding my breath the entire time he’s been gone.

  He’s frowning, so I quickly say, “I’m not crazy. I heard something out there.”

  As he climbs into bed, he mumbles, “I didn’t see anything.”

  Sitting up, I watch him turn away from me and hate how he’s dismissing this. I heard something. I know I did.

  “So you think I just made it all up?”

  King looks back over his shoulder at me with a look of disgust. “No. Now, go to sleep.”

  But I can’t let this go.

  “I didn’t make this up. I bet you think I grabbed something while you were out of the room and I’m just lying in wait here, don’t you?”

  He stares back at me for a few more seconds before he rolls over and faces me. “I do now.”

  “Are you kidding? Do you think I’d be that stupid to say that if I did?” I ask in utter shock that he truly believes this whole noise thing was a ruse to give me the chance to set him up.

  Without saying another word, King reaches under the covers and begins searching the bed. His hands graze my leg, sending a rush of something completely strange coursing through me. I instantly move away from him, unsure what I’m feeling.

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this! This is insane!” I say, protesting a bit too much as I struggle to get my emotions under control.

  King looks up at me with suspicion in his eyes and wrinkles his forehead. “You know, just for future reference, you might want to act innocent if you really are innocent.”

  “What the hell do you mean by that?” I ask, unsure what he’s talking about.

  Does he know I reacted to his touch a minute ago? How? Did I make a face, or worse, did I let out a sigh? Oh, God. I probably did and just didn’t realize it.

  He seems confused too, which makes me wonder what’s going on. “I mean you’re not acting innocent, Sophie. I’m not sure how much clearer you need me to make that.”

  His hands begin searching the sheets and blanket, once more grazing my thigh as he rummages through the covers to find whatever he thinks I’ve hidden in them. Again, my body reacts, but this time I know exactly what that feeling is.

  Need.

  As he busies himself with locating some concealed weapon, I pull my knees up to my chest in an effort to make sure he can’t reach me. When he finds nothing, he lays back and looks over at me like he still thinks I’m up to something.

  He has no idea how much I wish I was at this moment.

  “So I guess you didn’t send me out of the room just to hide something you can use to try to kill me.”

  Still clutching my knees, I don’t try to hide my irritation with him. “I told you I didn’t. I’m not stupid.”

  His gaze rolls down over my body, starting first at my head and then slowly moving toward my feet. “Then why are you sitting over there like that?”

  “Like what? Like a person unjustly accused of a crime?” I snap as he sits up beside me.

  “No, like the exact opposite.” He reaches out to feel near my legs and adds, “Something tells me you’re sitting like that for a reason.”

  I push my legs out to stop him, but it doesn’t take more than a second for him to see I’m not hiding anything other than the effect he’s having on me. As soon as his hand brushes my hip, a tiny moan escapes my lips like some involuntary cry for him my body lets out against my brain’s orders.

  It stops him dead, and for a long moment, I can’t look away, even as humiliation covers me. That sparkle I’ve seen before in his eyes appears again, followed by that wicked smile he wears when he knows he’s gotten to me.

  The only problem is this time the way he’s gotten to me isn’t okay. It’s not right for me to feel any desire for him. Not after what he did.

  He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to. It’s probably written all over my face how much I want him. I wish he would say something so I could at least try to answer him with a believable lie.

  But he doesn’t. Instead, he slides his arm around my body and faster than I can push him away, he pulls me to him, crushing my breasts to his broad chest. His hold on me makes escaping impossible, though I squirm for a moment before it’s obvious I really don’t want to be anywhere else but right there next to him.

  The moonlight breaks up the darkness, making it impossible not to see the need filling his eyes. It frightens me, and although it should repulse me, it doesn’t. I hate that I want him as badly as I do. I don’t understand why he makes me feel this way. I silently tell myself this might help me escape, but I know that’s not the truth. That’s not why I want to feel him between my legs. That’s not why I want to taste his lips and listen to him moan my name as he fucks me.

  If only he’d say something, I’d be able to return us to the verbal sparring from a few minutes ago. This silence as he stares at me but doesn’t move a muscle is like sweet torture. I can see in his eyes he wants me like I want him, so why doesn’t he do something?

  I open my mouth to speak, hoping to move us from this sexual limbo to either more or less, but before I can say a word, he presses his lips to mine in a hard kiss that takes my breath away. His tongue snakes into my mouth and glides over mine, making me crave more.

  More of his mouth. More of his tongue. More of his body against mine.

  More of him.

  Stuffing my hands into his hair that’s too long for my taste, I close my fingers around it and love how soft it is against my skin as he holds me hard to him. His teeth nip at my tongue, startling me, and he leans back and smiles.

  “Like a little pain with your pleasure, Sophie?”

  His question sends fear rushing through me. Nearly twice the size of me, King could crush me, if he chose. What if his idea of a little pain isn’t as little as I can handle?

  When I don’t answer, he adds, “I promised I wouldn’t hurt you, little one. This kind of pain is the kind you’ll like.”

  As his hands roughly push my T-shirt over my head and then move down to my shorts, I don’t know if I’m scared or excited about what’s about to happen next. All I know is I want to feel those metal studs and that cock of his inside me again.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sophie

  King tugs my shorts off in one swift movement, taking my underwear along with them so I’m suddenly completely bared to him. His eyes roam over my body, and I can’t help but think he looks like a ravenous beast sizing up his next delicious meal.

  Pushi
ng me back onto the bed, he settles in between my legs and runs his fingertip up through my pussy to my clit. It glides easily because I’m so wet, which doesn’t escape his notice.

  With a smile, he looks down at me and runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “Someone’s ready.”

  The way he says that makes me feel like he’s always known I’d be ready for him. I want to protest—to tell him I hate that I want him—but I can’t muster up the words to lie. I do want him. I want to feel him inside me, letting me feel what it’s like to be fucked by him and those metal studs when he’s deep inside me.

  I reach out and run my hand over his cock. It’s rock hard and as ready as I am.

  Yet he doesn’t move to take his clothes off. Instead, he runs his hands across my breasts and down my ribs until they come to rest on my hips. I watch in rapt attention, waiting for him to be naked like me, but he’s got other ideas.

  Pushing my thighs open wide, he slides down until his mouth hovers over between my legs. His warm breath dances over my bare skin, and then a second later, I feel the first touch of his tongue on me. It sends a jolt of electricity racing through every inch of my body, and I let out a tiny cry that sounds like a needy plea for more.

  He presses his mouth to me and hums. “Little one, you taste so fucking good.”

  I grip the sheet tightly in my hands as my eyes roll back in my head when he sucks my clit into his mouth and bites down just hard enough to make it feel like skyrockets are exploding inside me. Oh, God, is this what he meant by a little pain? No one has ever bitten me there, and if anyone had ever mentioned it, I would have pushed them away in horror.

  But with every second that passes, I can’t get enough of his teeth pressing against me like this.

  When he slides his finger inside, he releases his hold on my clit, flicking his tongue over it just once and driving me crazy for more. I look down my body to see him staring up at me with a devilish look in his eyes, like he knows he controls me completely.

  “I told you the pain would be the kind you like,” he says in a low voice that resonates against my tender skin. “Want more?”