Page 72 of Under the Lies

I stare at her, she stares at me. The anger in her slate-gray eyes shift into a different fire, one that burns brighter. Hotter. They dart to my lips as she bites hers.

Fuck, she’s destroying me, even without her touch.

She doesn’t want to want me. And I shouldn’t want to touch her as much as I do.

But damn if I do. Especially when I see how much she wants me, but she’s letting her fear get in the way.

Fear of wanting this. She was bred for perfection and I’m the farthest thing from it.

Maybe that’s why I can’t stop myself. She’s the light to my dark, the angel to my devil. I want to take what makes her pristine and ruin it, to have her revel in sin with me.

Letting go of her wrist, I grab her ass and haul her closer. I don’t know what it is about her that makes me want to eliminate all the distance between us. She’s a siren who calls to me.

A gasp leaves her as my hand continues to glide down her body.

She makes me want things that I don’t want for more than a night, and never from the same woman, but she makes me want to keep coming back for more. And I hate it. But I chase it all the same.

My hands coast down her body, committing every inch to memory, a map for me to explore later.

Her eyes flutter closed and her fingers dig into my shirt, my chest. A smile slowly curves onto my face as my hand goes lower and lower until I feel what I’m after. And I don’t hesitate to take.

Sayer’s gasp is sweet music for my ears as I yank the wine bottle from her hand. Her eyes snap open to glare at me. I bring the bottle to my lips with a smirk.

“Let’s play a game,” I say.

“Wh—what?” she stutters.

“A. Game,” I speak slowly.

She eyes me suspiciously as I take another pull from the expensive ass bottle of wine I hadn’t planned on opening yet. “What kind of game?”

Without answering, I walk through my open floor plan until I’m in the living room. Quiet footsteps let me know Sayer’s following. I knew she would. Her curiosity is like a ball of yarn, toy with it a little and the whole thing will unravel.

I watch her approach from the comfort of my couch. She stands on the other side of my glass coffee table, hands on her hips.

“What kind of game?” she repeats.

I put the bottle on the table between us. “A game I intend to win.”

She quirks a brow. Arms crossed and waiting for elaboration.

“Ever played Never Have I Ever?” I brace my elbows on my knees.

Sayer’s brow stretches higher in surprise. “Yeah. In college. Aren’t you a little old for that though?”

I smirk. “We’re not playing it. But it’s something similar. I don’t know you anymore, Sayer, and I don’t like letting strangers into my home.” I see a dozen questions in her eyes, none of them louder than did you ever know me? Something growls in my chest with a resounding yes. “So, we’re going to play Answer or Drink. I’m going to ask you a question and you’ll have to—”

“Answer or Drink,” she finishes, ignoring the narrowed look I give her for interrupting.

I expect her to ask more questions, like why I want to do this, what’s the point, or any other trivial shit she could throw my way, but once again, Sayer surprises me by nodding her head. “Okay, let’s play.”

My mouth opens, the first question on my tongue when Sayer decides to interrupt, again. “But only if I get to ask some questions of my own.”

How did I ever think she’d make this easy for me?

I lean back on the couch. “By all means, then, ladies first.”

“Where are the rest of my clothes, Noah? How long am I to stay here?”

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