Hidden Truths (Truths and Lies Duet Book 1)

by Nikki Ash

“To us.”

  She acts like she wants to say something, but in the end, she utters out, “To us.”

  We spend the entire day eating, drinking, and swimming. Talia doesn’t say much, and frankly, I’m not in the mood to talk. She allows me to touch and kiss her, but always freezes up when she thinks I’ll do more.

  “You’re drunk,” I state when she stumbles slightly on the way back to the daybed.

  The sun is setting and the breeze has picked up. I smell rain in the air.

  “No, I’m not,” she sasses as she pours more ouzo into her tumbler. Someone really likes her ouzo.

  I climb out of the pool, prowling after her. This time, when I touch her hips, rubbing against her from behind, she doesn’t flinch. She simply sucks down her ouzo instead. I pull the drink from her lips, not allowing her to finish, and scoop her into my arms. She lets out a shriek, clawing at me, but then relaxes when I settle us on the daybed.

  This time, when we kiss, she puts more effort into it. Her fingers explore my wet chest, and her breaths come out unevenly. Needy almost. I kiss her hard, twisting her until she’s pinned down on the cushions. She moans when I kiss along the column of her throat. Another sound of pleasure resounds from her when my lips meet her nipple over her suit. I kiss her and then bite at the hardened nub over the fabric.

  “Ohhhh,” she cries out, her back arching up.

  Taking that as permission, I peel her suit off to the side. She mewls when I lick her bare nipple.

  “Kostas.”

  I smile against her nipple. She’s drunk as shit. It’s nice seeing her so relaxed, though. Trailing my kisses south, I linger at her belly button for a moment. The thought of filling her up with my kids is thrilling. A possessive need courses through me. She makes a garbled sound when I tug at the strings of her bikini bottoms. With a few short pulls, I reveal her pussy with trimmed, golden-blond hair.

  “You smell good,” I murmur, inhaling her scent of arousal.

  She lifts her hips up. “I do?”

  I lick her slit, causing her to groan and her fingers to latch onto my wet hair. “You taste good, too.”

  “Oh, God,” she whispers.

  “We left him back at the church,” I growl. “It’s just us now.”

  Using my thumbs, I part her lips so I can find all the delicate pink she hides beneath. Suddenly feeling starved despite the fact I’ve eaten all day, I lick and suck and nip at her sweetness. It doesn’t take long before she detonates. Loud, explosive, without warning, like a bomb. I lick at her clit as she rides out her orgasm. When she’s down from her high and can’t take any more teasing, I kiss my way back up her body.

  Her eyes are closed, a serene smile on her face. My pretty, drunk wife. She’ll hate herself when she sobers up. Hate that she gave up control to me. I smirk, imagining how her face will turn pink. The same color as her needy cunt.

  I pull her to me and drape the towel over me. Within seconds, her soft breathing evens out. My dick aches for attention, but I ignore it for now. I’ll wear her down eventually.

  It might take some time, but we have the rest of our lives.

  She’s stuck with me now.

  Talia

  My eyes are closed, but I can feel the light flooding in through the window. I’m no longer outside on the daybed with Kostas. I can feel the cool air in the room. The soft bedding wrapped around my body, and the plush pillows under my head. The last thing I remember was Kostas’s mouth on me. Bringing me to orgasm. Making me scream in pleasure. It was the first orgasm I’ve experienced by the hands—or I guess I should say mouth—of a man. Why was he making me scream in pleasure? And why was I letting him? Oh, God! Because I married him. I’m his wife. I’m Mrs. Freaking Kostas Demetriou.

  And he was unusually sweet. The vows he spoke, telling me he’s mine as much as I’m his. Promising to protect me until the day he dies and even then after. His eyes when he spoke were warm. Sweet. Determined. Honest. As if he was a different man. Not the monster who kills, but a man capable of loving. A man I could see myself falling in love with. My chest tightens at the mere thought. A choked sob escaping past my lips. A throat clears, and my eyes pop open, realizing I’m not alone.

  “Good morning, wife,” Kostas says, his voice almost sounding playful. He’s lying on his side, shirtless, with his hand holding up his head. He looks so normal like this. Like a husband. The thought makes me smile, which has Kostas eyeing me warily.

  “We’re married,” I blurt out, the reality of yesterday hitting me again. I married Kostas. I am a Demetriou.

  “I was there.” He chuckles in amusement and holds up his hand, showing me his wedding band. The one he had engraved to match mine. He reaches over and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture is so sweet. So unlike Kostas.

  His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and I’m reminded of where that tongue was yesterday. Licking my nipples. My neck. Between my thighs. When my thighs clench together, remembering how good it felt, I feel the dull ache between my legs. The ache that wasn’t caused by Kostas’s mouth, but by his brother.

  A cold sense of dread chases away the surprising warmth I’d been feeling. My heart rate speeds up. When my eyes meet Kostas, he’s assessing me closely. I feel too vulnerable under his careful scrutiny. Like if he looks too hard, he’ll see the pain that’s bubbling beneath the surface. His lips are turned down in a frown. He knows my thoughts have taken a wrong turn. I need to tell him. He needs to know what his brother did to me.

  “Kostas,” I begin, as he sits up, throwing the blanket off his body, and then stands. For a second, I’m distracted by his hard body. He’s in nothing but his boxer briefs, his full body on display. His intricate tattoos. His rock-hard abs. The trail of hair leading downward…

  “As much as I’m enjoying the way you’re looking at me right now,” Kostas says, ending my moment of ogling, “you need to save your eye-fucking for later. I need to get going.” He shoots me a knowing smirk and then starts for the bathroom. I cringe at the word eye-fucking. The same word he flung at me at the wedding rehearsal.

  “Kostas,” I yell, flinching when I realize my voice came out louder than I planned. “I need…”

  Without looking at me, he says, “Whatever you need will have to wait. I need to get to the hospital to see my dad and plan my mother’s funeral.”

  “Wait!” I shuffle out of the bed and stumble toward him. He turns around in the doorway, his eyes meeting mine. Burning fiercely. He’s back to himself. The sweet man from yesterday is gone. The monster is back. He stares at me for a long beat, his eyes narrowing, and his nostrils flaring.

  “I need to talk to you,” I croak out. I need to tell you that your brother raped me…please don’t cut off my feet and beat me with them.

  “We can talk tonight,” he says, his tone final. “Be ready at seven for dinner. We’ll talk then.”

  Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

  My eyes flutter open when I hear the sound of someone knocking on the front door.

  Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

  The knocking turns into banging. I rush out of bed, worried Kostas might’ve forgotten his key. But when I swing the door open and see it’s Aris standing on the other side, I remember the door has a damn code, so Kostas can’t be locked out.

  Shit.

  Panic swells up inside me like a tidal wave. Fast. Unexpected. Terrifying.

  My heart hammers in my chest as I’m frozen in terror.

  “Hmm…in my brother’s shirt. Looks like you two have gotten cozy,” Aris accuses with a wicked smirk that sends chills up my spine. He grips the bottom of the shirt, tugging on it slightly, and I slap his hand away. I didn’t even realize I was wearing Kostas’s shirt. He must’ve put it on me last night after I fell asleep. The last thing I remember wearing is my swimsuit. Before he removed it…

  I lift my chin, facing off with the man who raped me, praying I don’t burst into tears. I need him to know I’m not afraid of him. The slight wobble in my bottom lip
suggests otherwise.

  “I figured you would want this back,” Aris says. He extends his hand, holding my phone out for me to take, but when I reach out to grab it, he brings it back in. “We need to talk.” He steps forward, and I take one back, bumping into the door.

  “We can talk out here.” I push his chest with enough strength, he’s forced to take a step back. There’s no way I’m letting him anywhere in my home.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, tilting his head to the side slightly. “Are you afraid to be alone with me?”

  “Can you blame me?” I glare at him. “The last time we were alone, you—”

  Aris cuts me off. “Had sex with you?”

  “More like you raped me,” I hiss.

  His eyes go wide, and he takes a menacing step forward into my space. He drops his voice low to a frightening growl, as though he fears we might be overheard. “What the fuck did you just say?”

  “I said you raped me.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Or were you too drunk to remember?”

  “Like fucking hell!” he booms, pushing me into the villa and slamming the door behind him. My back hits the table in the foyer, and Aris towers over me. “I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but I suggest you think twice before you make that kind of accusation.”

  Accusation?

  He’s delusional.

  Not one bit of what happened was consensual.

  “It’s not an accusation,” I choke out. “It’s the truth! And we both know it.” This time, I can’t keep the tears at bay. They burn my eyes.

  Aris’s hand comes up, and I flinch, thinking he’s going to hit me, but instead he grabs something on the table. A paper crinkles. “You and Kostas got married?” He holds the marriage paperwork Father Nicholas gave us in my face.

  “Yes, yesterday,” I admit.

  Aris drops the paper back onto the table and barks out a humorless laugh. “So, let me get this straight. You fuck me Friday night, and the next day marry my brother. And now you’re crying rape?”

  “I’m not crying anything. You did rape me.”

  “Do you really believe my brother is going to believe that? I’m his flesh and blood. You’re a fucking Nikolaides. You’re a liar by birth. It’s in your blood. You came to my villa to comfort me, we ended up having sex, and now that you’re married to Kostas, you want to cry rape, so he doesn’t kill you for sleeping with his brother.” At his version of what happened, my bones grow cold as fear slides through me. He’s right. Kostas isn’t going to believe me. I’m my father’s daughter. The man who had an affair with his mother.

  “I like you, Talia,” Aris says. “And I don’t want to see you die, so you don’t have to worry. I’m not going to tell him what happened between us.” He leans in close, until his body is flush against mine, and then he whispers into my ear, “It will be our secret.”

  A shudder ripples through me. Sharing secrets with this monster is the last thing I want to do, but what choice do I have? If Kostas finds out…

  He can’t.

  He simply can’t.

  Aris backs up and extends his hand, offering me my phone, but before I can grab it, he drops it onto the table. “Welcome to the family, sis.”

  The moment he leaves, I lock the door behind him, then attach the chain just to be on the safe side. The nerve of that asshole! And to think I thought he was the nice one. The one with a heart. He’s nothing more than a wolf in sheep’s clothing. At least Kostas owns the monster he is.

  Grabbing my cell off the table, I check to see if Kostas has called or texted. He hasn’t. He’s busy dealing with the shitstorm that’s become his life. His father is in the hospital. His mother is dead.

  It’s only ten in the morning, and we’re not meeting for dinner until seven. I glance around the room. It’s quiet. Empty. It’s only me here. I consider calling my mom, but what would I say? Do I tell her I got married? Will I be able to keep it together enough that she won’t know how upset I am about Aris?

  Needing to calm the blood that’s boiling beneath my skin, I take a cool shower, taking my time to wash and shave every part of me. My thoughts go to yesterday with Kostas. He could’ve easily taken advantage of the fact I was drunk, but he didn’t. We’ve yet to consummate our marriage. At one time I would’ve been dreading it, but now I just want to get it over with. I want to replace the horrid images of Aris with Kostas. I wonder what kind of lover Kostas will be. I assumed he would be rough. Ungentle. But the way he made me feel by the pool was the complete opposite. Maybe I have him all wrong. Maybe he’s not the monster I’ve made him out to be. But then I remember the way he tortured that man for lying. Would he torture me like that if he believes I’m lying about Aris raping me? A body trembling shiver runs down my spine.

  Turning off the water, I step out and wrap myself in a towel. It’s the same towel from Aris’s villa. They all have the same towels. Because they live on the same property. The thought has my heart rate picking up and my chest heaving. I was hoping a shower would calm me, but it only had the opposite effect. Maybe I just need to get out of here. Get some fresh air. It will help me take a deep breath.

  After blow drying and straightening my hair, and applying a little bit of makeup, I feel a little more like myself again.

  Just as I’m finishing getting dressed, my phone rings. It’s my mom. I hit ignore. At the same time, my stomach growls. I consider taking a walk to the restaurant but stop myself. The last thing I need is to run into Aris. Space. We need space. Out of sight, out of mind. Right?

  Instead, I place a call to room service and order breakfast and coffee. I glance at my phone again to see if maybe Kostas has texted. He hasn’t. It’s only eleven o’clock. It’s only been an hour. I need to get out of here.

  Remembering the patio that Kostas and I passed through to get to the pool yesterday, I head out back. The patio looks out at a beautiful, private flower garden. There are two Adirondack chairs and a matching table. They look untouched. I laugh, imagining Kostas coming out here to lounge out on his day off. Does he even get a day off? I doubt crime organizations have a set of working hours.

  Dropping into one of the chairs, I take a deep, calming breath and then dial my mom’s number. She answers on the first ring, her frantic voice bringing tears to my eyes.

  “Talia!” she screeches. “I’ve called you so many times, but you haven’t answered. Please tell me Kostas hasn’t hurt you because of me. I’ve been so worried!”

  “Oh, Mom,” I choke out. “I’m okay. I miss you. Kostas hasn’t hurt me. I’m sorry I haven’t called. A lot has happened. I have so much to tell you.”

  “Talk to me, cara mia. Tell me everything.”

  “Well, for starters, Kostas and I got married.” There’s a deafening silence, and for a second I wonder if she’s hung up on me. But then I hear a sniffle through the line and I know she’s still there. She’s crying.

  “Don’t cry, Mom. Please don’t cry.”

  “I just always thought I would be there when you got married. And I had hoped…with everything that happened, maybe there was a chance he would let you go.” She sobs through the phone.

  “It’s okay,” I tell her, realizing I need to hear it myself. “It will be okay.”

  I hear a rustling in the bushes, and a sudden sense of unease washes over me. Remembering room service will be delivering my breakfast soon, I stand to head inside, when the sound of several branches cracking sounds through the air. And then a man in a black ski mask is coming at me. With my phone still in my hand—my mom still on the line—my fight or flight instinct kicks into gear. Grabbing the chair, I kick it toward the man. It causes him to momentarily stumble, and it’s enough time for me to get inside and lock the doors.

  “Mom!” I scream. “Someone is here. I need to call you back.” I hear her yelling over the phone, but I hit end and dial Kostas’s number. The doorknob on the French doors rattle, and I know it’s only a matter of time until the man gets in.

  “Tali
a, I’m going to need to call you back,” Kostas says, his voice calm.

  “Kostas! Someone is here. He’s wearing a mask, and I think he’s trying to get to me.” The nob begins to turn, and I run to the front door.

  “Where are you?” Kostas demands.

  “At home! He’s trying to come in from the back.” I stand against the front door, watching the French doors, when the front door begins to shake, causing me to jump back.

  “He’s at the front door!”

  “There’s a gun in my nightstand, Talia. Go grab it! I’m going to call Aris right now. He should be close by.”

  I sprint into the bedroom and find the gun he mentioned. “No, Kos, I need you! Not him,” I cry. “Please come home! Please.”

  I can’t chance going out the front or the back. So instead I find a spot in the corner of the closet to hide, and with Kostas’s gun in my hand, I wait.

  Kostas

  “I’m scared.”

  My heart thunders in my chest as I excuse myself from the hospital room where my dad sleeps in a medically induced coma. As I talk to her on speaker, I text my men on the hotel grounds. This ski mask fucker won’t touch a hair on her head.

  “I know, zoí mou, but you’re safe,” I assure her. “Just stay quiet. Did you do as I told you? The safety is off?”

  “I t-think so,” she whispers.

  “Check it again,” I instruct.

  “Y-Yes. It’s ready to fire.”

  “Good, now keep it trained on the door. Aim high and for the chest if anyone comes through the door.”

  Her breathing is erratic. “Are you coming home? Please come home.”

  The terror in her voice—begging for me—claws inside me. I hate to hear her so terrified. Once the threat is eliminated, whoever thought they could try and hurt my girl will fucking pay.

  “I’m coming—”

  Pop! Pop! Pop!

  It takes me a second to realize the gunshots aren’t coming from her end, but here at the hospital. What the fuck?

  “Talia, listen to me,” I growl. “Hide behind the clothes and shoot anything that comes for you. There’s a shooting in the hospital. I need to go.”