Lie to You Page 10

  Rebel stalks toward me as he lifts his sweater up and over his head. My gaze drops to his chest, and I lick my lips at the sight of all that bronzed skin.

  I’m nervous. We’ve done this before, but never quite this way, never for this purpose. But this is all I have to give, the only way I can think to show him how I’m feeling inside. It’s my way of apologizing as much as it is to bridge the gap that formed in my chest the night I saw him with her. I need that deeper connection to him right now, something raw and powerful enough to obliterate that night from my mind.

  Rebel reads me perfectly, understanding want I from him. “You’ve been bad, pussycat.”

  Drawing the corner of my lip between my teeth, I peer up at him from beneath my lashes and nod coyly. “Yes, sir.”

  Standing shirtless before me, Rebel removes the belt from my fingers and takes a step back. There’s a cruel edge in his dark eyes when he says, “You know what happens to naughty girls. Drop your underwear.”

  I do as he says, anticipation fluttering inside my stomach like hundreds of butterflies taking flight. Slipping my fingers into the elastic waistband, I roll my panties down my legs to my ankles and then step out of them.

  “Now place your hands on the mattress, bend over, and spread your legs.”

  Following his instructions, I plant my hands on the bed, my fingers fisting the duvet as I set my feet shoulder width apart. My heart is pounding in my chest as I wait for him to begin.

  “Since you chose to go against my wishes and allowed another man to touch my pussy, I’ve decided ten should do the job.”

  So many. Oxygen gets trapped in my lungs. I tip my head once, prepared to take the punishment. Even though there will be a modicum of pain involved, I want this. It’s not abuse, but a way for us to grow closer. Neither of us is good with our words. This is my way of letting both of us shed our frustration and resentment. Whether he meant to or not, he hurt me, and even though he’ll never admit it out loud, I hurt him, too.

  I haven’t taken a full breath yet, when the leather strikes.

  “One,” Rebel says, his voice smooth as silk.

  He doesn’t hit hard enough to damage the skin, but it smarts. My shoulders tighten and I take a shuddering breath.

  “Two.”

  I close my eyes, centering my thoughts as I count down with him.

  “Three. Four. Five.”

  By the time Rebel reaches ten, I’m sagging. My ass burns like hell and at some point I must have started holding my breath, because my head is so light I feel like I might pass out.

  Bracing his hand against my shoulder, Rebel draws my back up to his chest and turns me so he can scoop me into his arms. Laying me out on the bed, Rebel leaves my side for a brief moment, just long enough for me to pull myself back together.

  Immediately, I wrap my arms around a pillow and burry my face in it. Even though the act is consensual, it still takes a lot out of me emotionally and, I suspect, that’s true for both of us. Normally the spanking is just for fun, a tool used to heighten our mutual arousal, but this time it’s purpose was much darker, and it left me feeling stripped bare, raw. I’m reeling from how deeply it impacted me. I never expected it to strike so deep.

  When Rebel returns, he brings the bottle of aloe I keep on my bathroom counter. He spreads it over my burning cheeks, soothing the sting. I don’t even care about the pain, which is minor at best and will likely be gone by morning. All I want to do is climb into Rebel’s arms and have him hold me.

  Turning my head, I look up at him with longing. Glancing down at me, a frown pulls at Rebel’s mouth. After slathering on another coat of aloe, he places the bottle on the bedside table beside the half-empty two-liter and lays down on the other pillow facing me.

  His dark eyes lock with mine, concern reflecting back at me. “Did I hurt you?”

  I shake my head.

  “You’re upset with me.”

  “No.”

  “Then what?” he asks, his voice pitching low to match mine.

  The words I want to say hover on the tip of my tongue, threatening to spill free. But I hold them back, almost desperately, because even I know how stupid it would be to let them out. Rebel and I are too new with too much still left to figure out, too much still unresolved. I bite my tongue, choking the words down.

  Then I tell him what I concluded a week ago, right after I had sex with his brother and right before I slinked from his bed under the cover of darkness. “I choose you.”

  THIRTEEN

  Rebel’s reaction to my decision wasn’t exactly what I expected. Okay, I had no idea what to expect from a man who’s about as closed off as a bank vault. But if the endless night of wild, animalistic sex is any indication of how he was feeling, then I suppose he was pretty damn thrilled with my choice.

  That leaves me with the problem of enacting my plan. Admittedly, it’s not very solid or well-thought out. I’ve gotten as far as driving to my destination and scoping it out with a very clichéd set of binoculars done up in green camo I picked up in the sporting goods section of Walmart.

  I am sitting in my car down the block from Rebel’s apartment working on a half-baked theory. I have no idea who Florence is outside of the first time I met her at Mirage. To say my knowledge of her is limited is a massive understatement. All I really know about her is that she had some type of relationship with Rebel that may or may not be current, that Ransom knows about her in some capacity, too, and that the last time I saw her was in their apartment.

  It’s a Saturday and my only day off. I don’t even know what I am going to do. I have zero plans except to sit here and monitor the building. If Rebel knew what I was doing, I would venture to guess that he wouldn’t be a happy camper. Something tells me that he doesn’t appreciate having his privacy violated. Plus, the latest status of our relationship suggests that each of us has placed a certain amount of trust in one another.

  Trust that I am currently destroying with every minute that I continue sitting here.

  When I think about it like that, I feel kind of disgusted with myself. Lowering the binoculars, I sigh. What the hell am I doing, spying on my…boyfriend? Lover? It dawns on me that we haven’t exactly labeled whatever it is we have going on here. If this were Ransom I was talking about, there would be no question about it. He already claimed me as his girlfriend when we were still a closely kept secret.

  I sigh again. When did my life become so damn complicated?

  Oh, right. The night I accepted an invitation to a mysterious man’s hotel room.

  I wonder what it might have been like had I never met Rebel. I would have missed out on some great sex, that’s for sure. But I still would have met Ransom. Would not knowing Rebel have changed our paths? Would we have still gotten together? That’s the thing about history. There’s no way of telling how it might have played out had our choices been different. We’re left with making the most out of what we know now.

  Still, I don’t think I would change anything. My choices have taken me to some great places. While some of the details could be better, I can’t say I regret anything.

  I have Rebel. I have the possibility of more. With him, there are no guarantees, and probably a lot more uncertainties than if I had chosen Ransom, but there something inside of me that tells me Rebel is the real deal. He’s a puzzle, but he’s also a man who goes all in, and I want that. I need that.

  So, rather than continue to sit here like a jealous girlfriend, I toss the binoculars into the passenger seat, turn on the ignition, and blend into traffic.

  After stopping off for an iced coffee and a greasy cheeseburger, I head for home. I’m nearly there when I realize that I am being followed.

  The silver BMW stands out like a sore thumb. It may be a classic looking sedan, but it’s rich and flashy and to me, unmistakable.

  As is the driver.

  Ransom takes no measures to hide himself from me, pulling up so close to my bumper at the red light that all I can see is his face in my
mirror.

  Well, then. Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed today. The thought of beds makes me remember how I left him the last time I saw him, and that I’ve been stanchly avoiding him ever since.

  I have to give him credit, though. Ransom still holds a key to my apartment. Therefore, he could have abused that privilege and barged in on me anytime to demand answers, but he’s kept his distance.

  I guess that time is over now.

  Knowing I have to answer to him, I lead us in the opposite direction of my apartment, stripping away any possible temptation and placing us in neutral territory—a nearby playground.

  It’s small, open to the street, and there are children everywhere.

  Ransom is already walking toward me when I climb out of the car. He’s wearing expensive Oakley’s that hide his eyes completely, making it impossible for me to gauge his mood. Yet, I know he’s got to be pissed. I’d certainly be if I were in his shoes.

  “A park, Joe? Really?”

  Yep, he’s mad. I start walking toward a weathered picnic bench tucked beneath a maple tree. “Why were you following me?”

  “Why were you watching my apartment?” he lobs back.

  “Don’t you mean Rebel’s?” I say smartly. “I was performing a little light recon work. How did you know I was there?” I thought I had been careful. Parking my car at the end of the block made it difficult for even me to see the tall building, hence the binoculars.

  “I was on my way back from my morning jog and I spotted your car.”

  Looking him over now, I realize that he is indeed dressed for exercise. His sleeveless tank and loose shorts are soaked through in places with sweat. It’s information I would have known had I still been going on my daily jogs with him.

  “Why the park, Joe?” Ransom asks when I fail to respond.

  “I didn’t think it would be a good idea to do this at my apartment.”

  “You wanted witnesses? Why? Because you think I might get violent?” He sneers, the idea clearly abhorrent to him. “I’m not that kind of man, Joe, and you’d know that if you gave me half a chance to prove myself.”

  Uncomfortable with the inability to see his eyes through the mirrored shades, I cast my gaze toward the jungle gym where a couple of small boys are chasing each other. Someone must have tipped him off about my decision, and there’s only one person I can think of who’d do that. “Rebel?”

  “Yeah, he couldn’t wait to tell me,” he snarls. “Why him, Joe? I thought we had something going. After last week, I thought you’d finally made your choice.”

  “I did. I chose him.”

  “Do you realize how little sense that makes?” he questions, his words laced with venom. “You have sex with me and then you choose him. Do you even know what the hell is going on in that head of yours?”

  I glare at him, annoyed by his tone. “Having sex with you is what made me realize what I wanted. You and I? We were never going to happen, Ransom. It’s like Rebel said, I was his first.” The words flow out effortlessly and I realize in a sudden flash of clarity how true they are. Rebel captured me a long time ago.

  “So that’s what it comes down to?” Tearing off his glasses, Ransom stares me down. “He had you first so he wins? What about what happened last weekend? Doesn’t seeing him with another woman influence your decision at all?”

  “It wasn’t what it looked like. Rebel said—”

  “Right,” Ransom says, cutting me off. “Because everything that comes out of Rebel’s mouth is the fucking gospel.”

  “Shhhh! There are children here.” I look around, hoping none of them heard. Thankfully, everyone seems to be preoccupied with having fun, completely oblivious to our verbal sparring. “Rebel swears he doesn’t remember anything about that night, and he doesn’t know how she got in the apartment. But he’s going to look into it.”

  “You know what’s funny, Joe?” Ransom says with a humorless laugh. “I never pegged you for being so naïve. Did it ever occur to you that she might have a key?”

  It had occurred to me, which was why I was scoping out the apartment earlier. I was hoping—or rather, not hoping—that she would show up and I would catch her in the act of using it. Then I planned to take it from her—forcibly if I had to. Of course, this was all assuming she had one in the first place, which Ransom is now confirming she does.

  “It doesn’t matter if she does or not,” I tell him, lifting my chin. “Rebel said they’ve been over for months.” I’m trying to be strong here, be reasonable and rational. I don’t want to leap to one conclusion after another. I want to believe Rebel, so I have to think before I act.

  “Are you kidding me?” Ransom shakes his head as if he pities me. I clench my jaw, irritated beyond measure. “It doesn’t even matter that he’s been screwing his boss behind your back? That it’s clearly not over between them? You’re just going to stick your head in the sand and pretend that none of it ever happened? Pretend that we never happened.”

  “What did you just say?” My blood is roaring in my ears now. I couldn’t have heard him right.

  “Oh, he didn’t tell you?” Ransom’s lips curve up in a hateful smirk, making him look so unlike the man I’ve come to know, the one who was above such pettiness. It’s an ugly look on him. I would walk away from him this instant if I didn’t need to hear what he had to say.

  “That’s right, Joe. Florence is his boss. She’s the one who sends him out on all those ‘business trips.’ Every now and then, she even tags along. I’m sure you can guess how they spend their time away.”

  I’m going to be sick. My mind is racing, backtracking through my conversation with Rebel. How could I have been so blind? So utterly stupid? I asked him flat out about her and he denied having any involvement with her. He behaved as if they had no connection anymore.

  But that’s not true, is it? If what Ransom is saying is true, she’s his boss. She oversees everything. Rebel answers to her. Christ, he’s been inside her. So when Rebel said that he hasn’t seen her in weeks, he was lying through his perfectly straight white teeth, wasn’t he? Or is it Ransom who’s lying?

  The whole thing is so wildly dysfunctional and beyond comprehension, it leaves me reeling.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, my fingers clamping down on the edge of the table so hard they whiten at the tips. I finally made my decision, but what if it was the wrong one?

  “It wasn’t my place. You had a choice to make. What would it look like if I swooped in and started filling you in on his backstory?” he asks. “I would have looked like the jealous lover trying to tarnish his brother’s reputation so I could win you over. It would have been the equivalent of me shooting myself in the foot right before the race.” Folding his arms on the table, Ransom leans in, dipping his head so he can look me in the eye. “You needed to figure him out for yourself and make your decision on your own.”

  I’m torn between being mad at him and understanding what he’s telling me. Assuming everything he’s said is true, I get why he didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news. The recipient almost always ends up getting pissed off at them and runs in the opposite direction, and I know enough about myself to say that I would have been stubborn enough to do just that. But I feel like such a fool now.

  Drawing in a steeling breath, I sit up taller. “Why tell me now, then? Why wait? You saw them together that night. You could have told me then.” He could have saved me from this clawing heartache.

  “I told you, I thought you’d made your choice. How was I supposed to know hours after climbing into my bed, you’d return to his?” He’s angry again, and I can’t say that I blame him. “You left me hanging for a solid week, Joe. You left me wondering if I did something wrong, if you just needed some time. Then I had to hear from my brother that it wasn’t me you wanted after all?” He shakes his head, and all I want to do is reach out to him. I can’t seem to do anything right lately.

  “I didn’t intend to string you along. I just needed some time to s
ort everything out and make sure I knew what I wanted first. Then I had to figure out what to say and how to say it. I’ve had a lot on my mind this week,” I explain. “If Rebel hadn’t shown up at my apartment, I probably still wouldn’t have said anything to either of you.”

  “So what if I had shown up at your apartment?” Ransom challenges. “Was this a first come first serve situation? Did I just miss my window?”

  His words feel like a slap in the face. “You don’t have to be so vicious about this. This is hard for me, too.”

  “Yeah, only because you just realized that you made a huge fucking mistake.” Standing, Ransom puts his glasses back in place, shutting me out. “You’ve made your decision, and I have to respect it. All I can tell you now is good luck with my brother. You’re going to need it.”

  Finalizing his words, he walks away and I find myself staring out across the playground wondering what the hell I’m going to do next. I think I might have chosen wrong, and now everything is a wreck.

  Dropping my head into my hands, I close my eyes and retreat into myself, until the sun begins to set and the sounds of children playing grow scarce. Then I pick myself up, dust myself off, and head for home.

  FOURTEEN

  I’m digging myself a hole. I haven’t drummed up the guts to confront Rebel yet. I don’t know what I’m waiting for, but every time I see him, I end up biting my tongue. I hate confrontation, and it’s impossible to stay angry with him when he’s being nothing but sweet to me.

  How am I supposed to yell at someone whose smile is so perfect and endearing?

  Hanging out at the club all night, Rebel watched me dance, and then he waited for me to finish working the floor and collect my tips before escorting me home. He stayed the night, ravishing my body and mind with his powerfully addictive hands and mouth until we were both too exhausted to keep our eyes open. He’s infusing my every waking moment with his presence so that all I can think about is him.