Page 28 of Liars and Liaisons

Assuming that to be the end of the conversation, I link my fingers together and turn to the window.

All I see is foliage, no matter which side of the SUV I look out, and the scenery makes my chest swell with excitement. Aplana Island is nice in terms of the ocean views and tourist propaganda, but I can already tell Duris is a different kind of serenity entirely. Something almost pure and untouched, and it feels fitting that someone would come here to escape the limelight.

Dark gray rain clouds roll in as the trees clear around a gravel driveway, and a massive house comes into view. Its dark gray stone walls are covered in thick vines, and dozens of tall black windows with green shutters give it a false sense of invitation.

The gravel drive curls around a circular patch of grass before the dark wooden front door. It’s framed by thick Doric columns and a short, slanted roof. The main part of the house seems to split off into two separate sections that jut back into the opposing direction.

“Holy shit.” I blink as the vehicle comes to a stop at the entrance, gaping up at the sheer size of the home. “This place ishuge.”

I mean, I’ve been here before, but I didn’t really have time to appreciate the grandeur. Not when Nate and his older brother, Harrison, were practically shoving me in the car, as if the man inside was liable to rush out and ambush us at any given moment.

“Fourteen thousand square feet,” Grayson says. “Sixty acres, give or take.”

“The house I grew up in was barely even fifteen -hundred, and there were five of us in there.”

“Yes, well,” he says again, staring at me with a blank, emotionless expression. After a moment, it slides past me to the house beyond. “Extra space is nice when you hate your family.”

“Oh.” I can’t imagine hating mine, even at our worst. In fact, it’s my love for them that keeps me from going back. My love that keeps them safe.

“Let me guess. Your family is the bee’s knees, and you can’t bear the thought of being without them for even one second.”

“The bee’s knees?” A laugh catches in my throat. “How oldareyou?”

Liquid heat ignites in those green eyes, and my mouth closes, as if he forced it shut with the intensity of his stare alone.

“Too old for you,” he says.

“Good thing I don’t want you.”

He scoffs. “You don’t know what you want.” A pause, then, “I’m younger than Nathaniel though. What were you doing with him anyway? Aren’t there anynicemen your age?”

“There are plenty. But you know what they say.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him. “There’s no substitute forexperience. Older men have lived so much, you know?”

I’m taunting him, well aware that I’ve barely touched a man in my life, much less his brother. We didn’t go out long enough for that to develop, with both of us keeping busy and more than happy to leave each other with some light petting.

At the time, I thought he was being respectful of my unvoiced wishes. Now, I can’t help thinking Kal’s existence played a big role.

Or maybe he just wasn’t interested in me that way. Not enough to take it to the next level.

Grayson leans in, his eyes darkening. “What sort of experiences did my big brother show you, hmm? As I recall, you came for me at that fundraiser as if it were the very first time anyone had touched you. Either he isn’t that good or you’re all talk.”

Swallowing, I unbuckle my seat belt, indignation rising like a hot spring in my chest. I reach out, letting my palm snake slowly down the front of his shirt, toying with a few of the buttons. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing or why I’m doing it, but something possesses me.

That stupid, smug satisfaction on his face. I want to slap it off.

But he might murder me and toss my body off the mountain if I do.

Instead, I let my fingers trail lower, sucking in a quiet breath when I reach his belt buckle. His eyes stay on mine, and suddenly, the vehicle feels cramped and like we aren’t getting enough oxygen.

The sensations short-circuit my brain, and I shift even closer on the seat, mesmerized by how clear and dark his eyes get. As if his desire wipes away the cold, harsh shield he’s erected to keep others out.

Tilting my entire body, I let my mouth graze the sharp cut of his jaw. His posture is completely rigid, and he claws at the seat beside his hips, as if physically restraining himself from touching me back.

A flash of that night at the fundraiser whips across my mind—with me doing this exact same thing and wondering distantly why he wouldn’t move his mask so I could see his full reaction. I shiver, my muscles pushing me closer, and my hand slips between his legs.

He hisses through his teeth when I bump against his arousal; it’s long and thick and very, very hard, and I have the immediate urge to retreat. The intimidation factor just mounts, and when I run my palm along his shaft, I note to myself that I’m wildly out of my element here.

I have no clue what the next move is. When I look up at him, it’s clear he knows it, and anything else I might do would likely just be embarrassing.

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