Black Lies(7)

I didn’t answer with my mouth. I rolled over ‘til my legs left the bed and feet hit carpet. I stepped over to my dresser, opened a drawer and fished through panties and thongs until my hand hit foil. I pulled out a condom and walked back, my eyes taking an appreciative tour of his body as he lay on his back, exposed. His eyes smiled at me, his mouth only curving enough to highlight what might be a dimple, no move made to cover the impressive organ that lay against his thigh.

I didn’t expect the confidence he carried—thought a computer nerd would be more bashful of his body, more arrogant of his mind. But he hadn’t quoted a single fact, hadn’t brought up his company or money in any way. He treated this the same way I did, as two adults looking for a good time. He held out a hand, took the condom, then set it behind him on the bedside table, his hand returning to grab mine. “Not yet. Come here.” He pulled me alongside him, pressed forward until parts of us touched, and he was close enough to press a kiss against my lips, his fingers starting at my shoulders, softly working the muscles of my neck, gently probing as his touch ran down the lines of my frame. I closed my eyes, letting out a sigh as I relaxed against the pillow and he slid his hands lower, palms flat on the swell of my breasts, his touch gentle as he spread his hands and took me into them. “You are beautiful,” he said, a whispered scratch in the tones. His body moved closer. “I’m sorry if I’m… I’m not used to romance, Layana.”

My eyes opened, my wandering hands stopping in their delicate exploration that was about to reach his cock. “I don’t think I’m looking for it.”

“I thought every woman was looking for it.” He pulled me on my side, ran his hands around, until they cupped my ass and pulled me against him—hot air between us.

I looked up into his eyes, and finally found the moment when he lowered his mouth to mine. No. This. This was what every woman was looking for. A mouth that responded hungrily yet tenderly when kissed.

This. A firm drag of my body toward the end of the bed, eyes dominant, hands strong, the push of my inquisition down to the mattress.

This. My hands in his hair, clawing at his shoulders, my body bucking underneath his talented tongue between my legs.

This. Our bodies entwined in my sheets, his weight on my wrists, the moment of primal connection when he spread my legs and thrust himself inside, his cock moving with sure strokes, my cries of pleasure silenced by his kiss.

This. His body arced into mine, his hands pulling me hard against him, the bury of his cock when he finished, gasping my name, the shudder of his breath against my mouth as he rolled me over and gave one final thrust.

This. This was what I wanted, what my new self desired. The romance, it could wait.





Chapter 4


Brant

“You did what?” the shrill voice echoed in the large office, bouncing off antique desks and framed honors.

“I’m an adult, Jillian. I have every right to entertain whomever I wish.”

“She’s not a trailer park hussy, Brant. She’s a respected member of society. Extremely intelligent, though you wouldn’t know it from the life of leisure she lives.”

“I would consider those marks in her favor. You’re speaking as if you’d rather me date an uneducated redneck. I left her house last night and went home electrified. I worked all through the night and solved our issues with data recovery. The woman lit a fire in me.”

Jillian stood, pearls rustling, the fury in her eyes finding their mark and burning the skin they touched. “She’s looking for a husband. A new last name, a finish line to the race of life that all of these debutantes live.”

“I find it interesting for you to know so much about her intentions.”

“You know me, Brant. I have nothing but your best interests in mind. Trust me when I say to let whatever happened last night be the end of it. You don’t need a relationship, and would do best to stay away from this woman. Next time you want to get your rocks off, let me call the service.”

With a foot on the desk leg, I leaned back. “You realize how ridiculous it is for you to order me whores. Most maternal figures would be beaming to see me taking out a respectable woman.”

“Your mother would want this. Trust me.”

I frowned, flicking a piece of trash toward the basket before looking up into her eyes. “I don’t understand you half of the time.”

She smiled at me, a hint of sadness in her face. “Trust me, Brant. I could say the same about you.”