Filthy Lies

  "I'm so glad you didn't try." Fuck. I hated to think of what really stupid shit I might have done five years ago when I was out of my mind with anger and rage.

  "Why are you glad?"

  "Because back then I wasn't fit to be in the same company as your sweet, nineteen-year-old, innocent self. I wouldn't have brought you into my hell for anything. Truly. I let darkness rule me for a while until I found a path of least destruction. At least it felt a lot like it at the time. Changes were made in my life, I left my dad's firm, started my own, and eventually settled into a…situation… that worked for me."

  I studied her expression for any signs that she'd caught my small reveal about the "darkness ruling me" but she didn't react as if she did. Winter listened to me in her typical nonjudgmental fashion, a skill she'd perfected in the course of being a social worker I imagine. She had always been a good listener now that I thought about it. Mostly she was just a good person. So much better than me.

  "Until about six months ago," I added, trying to move our conversation along to something more pleasant.

  "Oh? What changed six months ago?" Her grin gave away she knew the answer. Little tease. How I'd love to paddle her ass for that sass.

  "This gorgeous girl moved into my building, and I started to spend a lot of time thinking about her in her apartment, which just happens to be right below mine."

  Her whole face lit up as her grin became a full-on smile. She looked like she had a lot to say, but whatever was on her mind remained a mystery as I cradled her in my lap.

  I wanted—no, needed to kiss her again. I mostly wanted her spread out naked, so I could take my time with kissing every inch of her. And I did mean every single inch.

  Anticipation and worry engaged in an epic warfare inside my brain. I wasn't used to feeling this out of control—something I never experienced while hooking-up with—

  With whom? Those random subs you find at Lurid? The ones you choose because they remind you of Winter? Don't put her in the same category as those other women, asshole.

  And this was most definitely not just another hookup for me. That much was a given, but from what she'd just told me, this wouldn't be a random hookup for her either, and that changed things. But everything was different with Winter, and it always had been. I needed to start being truthful with my feelings.

  As I battled my demonic conscience, reconsidering just how many lines I would be crossing tonight with her, Winter brought me back into the moment by touching me again. This time her finger just pressed between my lips, suspending my runaway fears in a split second. "What kind of thoughts do you have about this girl?" she asked in a demure whisper.

  "Filthy ones," I blurted. I pulled her off my lap and up onto the seat, where I could have her lips close to mine. "So very filthy, but right now I'm keeping a promise I made to myself earlier."

  "What promise, James?"

  "The one where your lips stay wet from my kisses all night long."

  Touching my lips with her finger was Winter's way to ask me to kiss her without saying the words. Without a shadow of a doubt—and it was fucking hot. Beautiful perfect submission, and she wasn't even aware of it, which made it that much better. She'd given me so many clues in our recent interactions, and my theory was being confirmed bit by bit.

  I closed the distance between our mouths and gave her what she wanted. It wasn't a crash of lips and tongues though, not at first. I needed to kiss her without time racing us forward impatiently. There was no rush. Just the two of us alone, and as much time as needed to get it right for once.

  And I was determined to get it right for the rest of our trip to the Sherborn house. I could feel the warmth of her body heat, and the softness of her breasts shaping into my chest. All I wanted was to get closer to her.

  I moved my lips away from hers to kiss her jaw and then her neck. I had so much skin to kiss before this night was over. So much more than just her pretty lips I realized, as I moved to the other side of her neck and licked a path back to her bottom lip. I took it between my teeth and bit down just enough for her to feel it. The moan that came out of her as she arched her body in my arms shot straight to my cock—she not only felt it…but she wanted it.

  She wanted more, and I was going to give it to her. Fuck. Yes.

  I hadn't been to my house in almost three months. Before tonight, I hadn't given the place much thought beyond questioning why I still paid caretaking services when I hardly ever used it. Mostly I pondered selling the fucking thing.

  I bought it five years ago as a surprise for my fiancée. A place in the suburbs where we could start a family and do the grown-up shit people did when they got married.

  Turned out I didn't need the big house in a private equestrian community with an empty barn waiting for a pony or two. Or situated within easy distance to the best schools. Providing for a family was no longer my concern. That ship had sailed to the benefit of all parties involved—fuck you very much.

  So why had I held on to the house?

  Not completely sure, except that I'd craved the idea of having a place nobody knew about, a sanctuary for whenever I needed one. I'd never told Leah or anyone in my family about this house. The deed wasn't even in my name, so it was completely off the grid, with the sole exception of my driver, Enzo. He knew about it because he lived in the guesthouse on the property and kept an eye on things for me.

  My house was finally useful. It couldn't be more perfect for tonight with Winter.

  "James, whose house is this?" she finally asked as I opened the front door and led her inside, grateful for the timed heating and lighting that kept it from feeling cold and dark.

  "Mine."

  "I didn't know you owned a house." She looked around at the mostly empty space, her eyes taking in the wood and stone and glass without comment. I so wished I knew what her thoughts were right now. Was she curious? Nervous? Scared to death of screwing this up between us like I was?

  "Nobody knows, because I haven't told anyone before."

  "When do you come here?" she asked, turning back toward me with the serious expression on her beautiful face.

  "When I need a break."

  "Is it often that you need a break?" she asked quietly.

  "I haven't been to this house for months." Only the truth for her. "But I'm really happy that you're here now. I finally have you all to myself."

  I backed her against the wall and settled my body against hers. Soft and quiet, and smelling so fucking wonderful with her whole body aligned with mine, I took a moment to breathe her in before I went insane. I could tell she was anticipating what I'd do next, but I had no intentions of rushing it. Not this first time anyway. Being with Winter was something I'd wanted for so damn long I ached. I couldn't even remember when my feelings had started. The wanting was something I recognized as a familiar companion. Always with me. Very well understood and accepted. I'd lived with it for years.

  I never expected we might ever get to this point together.

  I took her jaw in the palm of my hand and tilted it toward my lips. I smelled flowers mixed with oranges. The scent filtered into my senses where it would stay, because I was committing her to memory.

  "Do you trust me?" I asked with my lips just out of reach of hers, so close but achingly much too far away.

  "Yesss…always." I heard frustration loud and clear in her whispered words, and so did my cock. Painfully hard—and loving every second of the sweet torture of being so close to her.

  "Good girl." I brushed over her pouty lips lightly with my thumb. "I need to tell you the rules before I take you upstairs."

  "You have rules?" Her lips parted as she drew in a heavy breath and shaped them around pad of my thumb for a second before I took it away.

  "Just two," I paused before adding, "but two very important ones."

  The tip of her tongue wet her bottom lip before disappearing into her mouth. I'm sure I groaned audibly, when all I could imagine was that pretty pink tongue licking up the length
of my rock-hard dick.

  "Complete honesty from you is the first rule. You tell me we need to stop? We stop. You tell me to give you more? I will give you more. If I ask you a question, you give me a truthful answer. I'll hear you, as long as you tell me. I'll always listen to whatever you say."

  She stilled as my words sunk in. I sensed a rapidly beating pulse against my lips as I kissed up her neck, but still she asked, "And rule number two?"

  "I'm in charge in the bedroom. It's the only way I can do this with you. I'll make it so good, and give you exactly what you want, but I'll be taking the lead the whole way." I pulled back from her neck reluctantly. I had to read her face so I knew. It was a risk for me to even voice my second rule out loud, but I knew I had to do it, if not for me, then for her.

  The breath left her in the softest way, in a quiet rush that almost masked the intensity of it. Almost. Her eyes were directed down but I could clearly see the pulse at her throat fluttering as she contemplated my conditions. What is she thinking?

  "What if I say no to your rules?" Her chin lifted but her eyes stayed down. Such a tantalizing contradiction of gestures she presented while pinned against the wall by my crowding her. It was fucking hot. She wasn't even doing anything beyond standing before me waiting for an answer to her question. Winter didn't need to do anything for me to want her.

  "Then we don't fuck. Not tonight…or ever."

  Her eyes flickered up and held mine. "Then I…I agree to the rules, James," she replied without a trace of fear. "I want to fu…I want to do everything with you."

  Probably the wrong thing for her to tell me when I was nearly out of my mind in crazy fucking lust. I knew she didn't have any idea what she was saying or the meaning behind it. Winter's idea of "everything" was a far cry from mine when discussing sex, but that didn't matter right now. She'd agreed to my rules. We were done with waiting.

  I kissed her deeply, my tongue as far into her as I could get it. I kept her pinned to my wall and kissed the fuck out of her, pleasured myself on her mouth until the raging need burning me from the inside settled into something more familiar.

  The darker edge of control I was used to took over as I learned her: the softness of her lips and tongue dancing along with mine; the way she moved her body against mine; the little sounds she made when aroused.

  Which she fucking was. Her pussy was no doubt already wet, and soon I'd know when she was spread out naked in my bed ready to be fucked. Hell, she was ready right now just from kissing.

  Her response was fucking perfect. Soft and accepting, she let me go to work on her. Before this night was through, Winter would be on the receiving end of more orgasms than she'd ever known. And I was going to enjoy giving every one of them to her.

  I ended our kiss abruptly and took a step back.

  Slowly she opened her eyes, her body resting against the wall as she took in deep breaths, waiting for me.

  I obliged her.

  "Take off the dress."

  Chapter Sixteen

  WINTER

  My mind went blank for a moment as I tried to remember where the zipper was situated on my dress. Back? Side? I had no idea. I considered telling him the truth, but I didn't want to break the spell of our sensual dance. It felt too good being in the moment with James. Obviously. He had me so turned on I couldn't even recall how my own dress worked.

  "Turn." One sharp word, but it was plenty. James had figured out my dilemma and was taking charge. Oddly, a wave of pure relief crashed over me as the decision was lifted away from my sphere of responsibility. The heat of his fingers finding the zipper and dragging it down seared into my skin despite the layers of silk in between.

  Now opened at the waist, my dress allowed the cool night air to dance over my exposed skin. I could feel his eyes staring at my back. "Sorry," he whispered into my ear as he turned me around to face him once more. "I forgot about this." He drew my injured hand to his lips and kissed the back of it through the silk. "It won't happen again."

  Why was he apologizing?

  I was the one so stupefied by the sensual, dangerous man before me.

  He stared at me; so serious, and even slightly harsh, but with a predatory gleam. I was about to be devoured.

  Fear of the unknown mixing with desire twisted low in my belly and reminded me to take a breath. Depriving my body of oxygen was just as involuntary as the air I was forced to swallow in response. I waited.

  "Now the dress. Off." His words—so precise—were a definite command.

  Determined, I gripped the bodice of the dress where he'd unzipped me, worked the fabric over my hips, and let go. Gravity took hold, pulling it into a satiny heap around my calves. I stepped out carefully one shoe at a time, the chill of the night air sweeping over my skin. Designer ball gowns came with built-in bras and underlying slips, so once it was off my body, there wasn't much left to remove. Panties, stockings, gloves, shoes—was all that remained.

  Slowly I lifted my eyes to his, meeting his stare. The harsh look on his face would've startled me if I wasn't so aroused. I could hardly breathe. The cool autumn air swept over my skin tightening my nipples to nearly painful peaks. James noticed. He stared leisurely before meeting my eyes again with a slow shake of his head.

  "I used to imagine you like this—what you'd look like standing before me, waiting for me to tell you what to do next."

  I took in a shuddering breath, unwilling to speak. I was too far into the exchange to even think about forming any words of my own. The look in his eyes.

  "The reality is so much better, beautiful. You're perfect in every way."

  I wished he would touch me. The longer I stood on display the more desperate I felt. Surely I would combust soon.

  "Are you afraid?"

  I nodded my head.

  "Answer me with words, baby. I need to hear you," he scolded gently.

  "Yes, I am afraid," I answered honestly.

  "Afraid of me?" He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

  "Never of you."

  "What then?"

  "That I might burn up if you don't touch me." Even I could hear the frustration in my voice.

  He gave me a wicked grin. "You want to be touched?"

  "Yes."

  "What else do you want?"

  "I…I want…I want you to kiss me again."

  "And?"

  "I want to feel your hands on me." I wanted more than just his hands, and he knew it. I waited for him to command that I say how much I wanted his cock, but it didn't come. He kept staring at my body hungrily as if he couldn't decide where to start.

  "We need a bed for the many things I want to do to you before this night is over."

  "D-don't you have a bed?"

  He laughed. "Oh, I have one. And I'm going to fuck you in it just as soon as you walk that very fine ass of yours up the stairs."

  A bolt of heat hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled.

  James saying the words, "I'm going to fuck you," in any context related to me would certainly do it. I sucked in a breath and looked toward the staircase, wondering how on earth my legs would manage to carry me up so many steps when they could barely hold me up. I'll never make it on my wobbly ass legs.

  "You'll make it because I'll be right behind you enjoying the view. If you stumble, I'll catch you, and for the record, your legs are sheer perfection," he said, jerking his head the direction of the stairs.

  Mortified to realize I was speaking the thoughts in my head out loud for him to hear, I closed my eyes tightly in frustration.

  "You're going to have to open your eyes before you start walking, though," he said, clearly amused by my dilemma. "Go upstairs to my bedroom, Winter. We're not doing this anywhere but in my bed tonight. At least the first time."

  The promise of something I'd desired for so long staring me right in the face was so different than how I'd imagined it would be. James was different. He was so demanding…and dominant.

  I loved everything about this new, bossy James.


  From the stern look on his handsome face, to the piercing eyes raking over my mostly naked body, along with the promise of something I'd always believed forbidden with him.

  Some really hot, filthy, dirty, amazing sex.

  But James must have similar thoughts about the "forbidden" aspect of being together. Both of us were in uncharted territory. We'd always been friends. And right now we were friends who were about to fuck. How would things be after the hot sex was over? Would James still care about me in the same way? Would I?

  "If you're having second thoughts, you tell me now. Remember my rules, Winter," he warned.

  "I remember."

  "Repeat them." Another command delivered with the darkness of tone I'd quickly come to appreciate, because I had made an important discovery. Bossy James was hotter than hell and slapped every sexual button. Hard.

  I licked my bottom lip and dragged it under my top teeth before answering. "First rule, complete honesty. I'm to tell you if I want you to stop, or if I need more. Second, is that you are in charge." His second rule had me on the verge of incineration already, and I was beginning to recognize why. My years'-long attraction to him, the hot blushes that consumed me whenever I found myself on the receiving end of one of his penetrating stares, the flash of understanding how powerfully those penetrating stares had affected me. My submission was as natural as my attraction. I wanted it.

  Needed it. From James only.

  "Very good." He pointed in the direction of the stairs. "After you, beautiful."

  Feeling strangely detached from the insanity of exactly where I was, and what I was about to do, I took a first faltering step toward the stairs. And then another. I focused only on taking steps; moving my body through the motions of climbing the winding staircase that would take me to James's bedroom. His determined footsteps from behind pushed me forward. The delicious scent of his spicy cologne intoxicated me. The heat from his eyes staring at my ass framed in nothing but a little bit of skimpy lace burned my skin. I couldn't see him staring, but I felt him.