Page 42 of Black Lies

“Anytime he’s not here. Fuck that.” He let out a heavy sigh and turned in his seat. Stared into my eyes. “I’m never gonna be able to give you this. Shit, I’m never gonna be able to give you anything.”

“I don’t need you to.” I shook my head. “I only need you to love me.” The words stuck on the way out, my mouth regretting them as they fell from my lips. He wouldn’t understand, he’d think it more than it was, the statement putting too much weight on our affair.

“Love you?” He looked down, laughed softly under his breath before peeking back up at me. “Lucky, I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you. I just never thought I could have you.”

I lost a heartbeat, crawled over the center console, sitting in his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. Kissed his mouth in full view of the guard shack and a threesome of movers who I’d never see past next week. His hands slid down my body. Squeezed my ass while his mouth claimed my own. It had been the wrong statement for me to make, his admission one that broke my heart and made my year, all at the same time. I pulled off, breathing hard, my eyes meeting his, and told a twisted version of the truth. “I love you too.”

“All the good that does us.”

“Come inside,” I begged. “You can christen it, f**k me in every room of the house. Make it yours.”

His body tightened underneath me. “Hasn’t he already done that?”

I smiled against his mouth. Took a final taste of his mouth. “Not in any way,” I whispered.

“I take back any time I ever called him smart.” He wrapped his arms around me, shouldering the door open and carrying me out of the truck. Set me gently on my feet, his hand shutting the door while looking warily up at the house. “Rich prick,” he muttered, leaning back against my pull of his hand, his strides slowly taking him up the entrance steps, a mover passing us on the way, professional smile flashed at us both in turn. “Ms. Fairmont. Mr. Sharp.” The woman chirped, steps continuing, no pause in her stride.

I felt the start in Lee’s step, pulled him fully into the house. “She thought I was Brant,” he hissed, glancing over his shoulder at the woman.

“You’re with me. He hasn’t been here. The movers will probably assume it,” I nodded at the room before us, a three-story entrance hall, with as many as four men actively unpacking before us.

“Meaning I can f**k you right here and none of them will be the wiser?” He moved closer, pushing me against the closest column, the press of his body making it very clear where his thoughts lied.

I giggled, pulled away from him. “Behave,” I mouthed, stepping away to tap the arm of the closest individual.

“Yes, Ms. Fairmont.” The man turned, giving me a wide smile while nodding respectfully at Lee.

“We’d like some privacy. Can you find Ann and have her clear the house of staff?”

“Certainly.” The man scurried away, Lee watching him in amazement.

“Does everyone do everything you tell them to do?”

I stepped back against the column and pulled him back before me. “Kiss me.”

His eyes hooded, he obeyed, returning the crush of his body to mine, his kiss hard and possessive, his hands blatantly groping me over the thin cotton of my sundress. “I guess that’s a yes,” he muttered.

“Yes,” I agreed. “Now, f**k me eight ways to Sunday.”

“Yes, Ms. Fairmont,” he drawled, yanking down my panties with one firm hand. “With pleasure.”

Chapter 48

I know you don’t understand. I know you hate me. But you will soon find out Brant’s secret. I can’t keep it hidden. It won’t stay quiet, is screaming silently until the plug is pulled and its howl will fill the air. And once you find out, you will understand. You would have done the same thing.

I’d spent almost two years on Lee. Breaking into his life. Removing all obstacles. Making him fall in love with me, forcing that love to squeeze from his pores and envelop his heart.

I had succeeded. I had him fully in my hands. The only issue was, I didn’t know what to do with him at that point.

You could only control, manipulate, a man so much before your leash of control broke. Especially a man like Lee. A man who grabbed at everything he could and wanted more. I could feel the twinge of my leash. The crackle of weakening threads as he pulled hard against my ties. Hard in the direction of Brant. His hatred for him grew the more Lee felt for me.

Jillian was right. I was playing a dangerous game. And risking everything for my own selfish goal.

Chapter 49

2 MONTHS AGO

The oceanfront guesthouse became our f**k den, far enough from the main house to be our own oasis. Sometimes Lee visited twice a week, sometimes twice a month, his appearance as sporadic as the sun. Lee’s stress at getting through the guards subsided the fifth or sixth time he pulled through our gates without a moment’s hesitation on their part, a friendly nod the only indicator of his presence.

“Your guards suck.”

“What do you mean?” I craned my neck back, my head in his lap, meeting his perturbed gaze.

“I could be killing you in here.”

I laughed. “Then I’d have been dead months ago.” I flipped the channel. Found ESPN and stopped. I’d watched more sports in the last year than I had my entire life. Brant read and invented in his free time, while Lee watched mindless games that had no impact on anyone’s life.

“I’m serious. What’s the point of having guards if they just smile and wave at anyone who pulls in?”

“I told you, they know who you are.”

“Which is what? Your f**k buddy?” The bitter tone in his voice gave me pause. I muted the TV and turned, rolling onto my side and looking up into his face.

“I’m not intimate friends with them, Lee. I told them to always let you in. Isn’t that good enough?”

“Why aren’t they loyal to Brant? He’s the one who pays their salary. Pays everyone’s bills in this place. And where the f**k is he?” This was angry Lee. Moody, gets pissed off at anything and everything Lee. My least favorite version of him, a side effect of a passionate man. Brant never got mad. “I’ve been over here ten times, and he’s never been home. Does he even live here?”

“You know he does.” I dropped my head back, stared at the ceiling and wondered how I got myself in these situations. How many more impossible questions Lee would have for me today. “Remember? That was a fight in itself.” I’ve fought with this man ten times more than I’ve ever fought with Brant.

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