Page 21 of Man of Lies

There was nothing clean about the way he was looking at me. Nothing simple about his gaze drifting to my mouth, tracking every breath, like he already knew how close I was to giving in. He looked at me like I was something he wanted to ruin.

I licked my lips out of reflex, but his eyes followed the motion like he was starving, and that hunger knocked the air out of my lungs.

"I need more specifics," I said at last, squeezing the words out in a voice that didn't sound like mine anymore.

"Then let's lay them out." He stepped back just enough to give me room to breathe and held up three fingers, ticking themoff individually. "First: no interfering. You don't ask about my business, and I won't pry into yours."

My lips twitched in helpless amusement. "We've already broken that one."

"Then we start now," he shot back without missing a beat. "Second: keep it quiet. Nobody needs to know about this. Not your brothers. Not whoever you've got digging around my bar."

He said it coolly, like he’d clipped any personal judgment off each word, and I gave a slow nod. Agreement on record. I wasn't ready to acknowledge how close to the truth he might be, but I didn't want to lie to him, either.

"Third: we keep it physical." His rasp skimmed over my skin, dragging goosebumps in its wake despite the heat rising off the asphalt. "No strings. No expectations. When one of us wants out, we walk. No questions asked."

It was pragmatic. Rational. Precisely the kind of simple arrangement I should've wanted. But I didn't trust easy offers, especially not when they were too good to be true. And Silas, standing there with his ponytail slipping loose and his chest rising and falling with passion, wasn't offering clarity. He was giving me disaster in stages.

I reached for the loose strand of hair and brushed it behind his ear. His eyes widened, but he didn't flinch, and he didn't pull away.

"What happens," I asked quietly, "when that's not enough?"

Something flickered in his eyes—uncertainty maybe—but it vanished before I could name it. He stepped in until our chests brushed, dipped his head, and breathed against my lips, "We'llcross that bridge when we come to it. No one's watching, counselor. No one's keeping score. Take what you want from me."

Just like that, I broke.

Everything I'd been holding back surged to the surface, weeks of restraint gone in an instant. I grabbed him by the neck and tugged him the final inch toward my lips.

The kiss was brutal, all teeth and hunger, obliterating every thought until there was nothing left but my need for him. Silas didn't just meet me; he devoured me, turning my own need against me until I couldn't see straight. So I closed my eyes. His warm, wicked laughter spilled into my mouth, and his arm came around my waist, pulling me tight against him.

With my eyes shut, I felt everything: his strength, his heat, and the raw, coiled power he was barely holding in check. And I wanted every inch of it.

He tasted like stout—rich, biting, with that elusive undercurrent of sweetness I'd already memorized as uniquelySilas.His tongue slid against mine, teasing, tasting, and leaving me gasping. His self-control was surgical, restrained down to every calculated breath, and it was killing me. Every inch of my skin buzzed with a current that didn't feel like mine anymore. It felt like him—like some invisible wire had bound us together and started rewiring me from the inside out.

Then my phone rang, shattering the moment.

Silas groaned into my mouth and tightened the arm around my waist. "Ignore it," he rasped against my lips.

God, I wanted to, but the second one cycle ended, a new one began: incessant and impossible to ignore.

He stilled, resting his forehead against mine. We stood like that for a few ragged breaths, both of us straining to gather what was left of our control. Slowly, reluctantly, his hands slipped away. But the heat of his touch clung to me, even as I fumbled for the phone with trembling fingers.

The moment I saw the name on the screen, my stomach dropped. If Colton was calling at this hour, it wasn't good news.

"Colt?" I answered, already bracing for the worst.

"Get over here." I'd never heard him sound so grim. "Your brother's gone."

Chapter Ten

MASON

The school looked smallerthan I remembered, but everything did at two a.m., when the streets were empty and the sky was dark, vast, and empty overhead.

I killed the engine and sat there for a minute, kneading the steering wheel, watching the building's shadowed windows like they might blink back. The night had finally cooled, but the air was heavy and motionless this far on the outskirts of the parish. Even the insects had gone silent. Nostalgia pressed against my ribs from the inside.

Colton hadn't said much when I got to his apartment; he'd just opened the door with a grim expression and a half-empty glass of gin in one hand. I'd seen him puking in the bushes after our LSATs, but I'd never seen him look like he'd had the wind kicked out of him.

"He just…left," he'd muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. "We argued this morning, but—I didn't think it was that bad." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "I came home from work and he was gone."

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