Page 59 of The Lies We Tell
“You wanna tell me the full story of the guy and the Vise?” I ask. My words slur a little. I normally try to stay sober-ish, but I guess a member claiming an old lady is a big deal. Shots and beer have been flowing all night.
Spark places his glass on the table. “Iris teaches kindergarten, and one of her kids keeps getting beat on by his old man. It upsets her. Told me it looked as though the kid’s fingers had been repeatedly slammed in a drawer. Fucker’ll think twice before hitting his kid again.”
“As the child of a Baptist preacher who routinely beat seven fucking bells out of his kids and occasionally whipped them for failing to remember Bible verses, I appreciate what you did.”
King slaps my shoulder in a gesture. “No kid should go through that, man.”
“You need me to go puthisfingers in a Vise?” Spark asks. The last three words run together. “We could go slewing,” he says, repeating the word I’d used earlier.
I’m about to respond when I realize what I’ve done. I planted seeds of the truth about who I am. The veins at the side of my head throb, even as I’m overwhelmed by these men who’d have my back.
And any kind of response gets stuck in my throat.
King mistakes my action for sorrow, and he grips me again, shaking me slightly. “Family always looks out for its own. You need to make that shit right, we’ll all go with you.”
And even as I sink as though my foot is tied to an anchor, my heart feels the tiniest flicker of warmth.
22
BRIAR
It’s early morning several days later, and I’m wide awake. Saint came home at some point after I’d gone to bed last night, and for the first time, I slept okay without him there to hold my hand. Now he’s wrapped around my body, but I want to let him sleep. I have a meeting in the city later today, and he’s agreed to drive me.
I know I should start to do things on my own. I could take the train. Heck, I could attempt to go back to my apartment. But today is not the day to do all those things, given my heart rate still spikes at the mere thought of it.
I ease his arm from over me, and he flops onto his back. His hair covers part of his face, but I resist the temptation to move it away before getting out of bed.
Once I’ve loaded the coffee grounds and pressed the button, the coffee maker splutters to life. Yesterday, I bought a much nicer blend, and I made the executive decision to toss the sludge he was drinking before. When it’s done, I pour a cup, add some creamer, and go sit outside. A hoodie of Saint’s sits over the back of the chair. It smells of him as I pull it on. The stones are chilled beneath my feet, but feeling the early morning sun on my face is worth the cool.
It’s not the same doing this in the city. New York is noisy, no matter what time of day I sit outside on my tiny balcony. A car horn, a siren, voices of groups as they go out for dinner or return home from a nightclub. Here, it’s peaceful.
I hear his footsteps before I feel him stand behind me. Saint slides a hand down the front of my hoodie—his hoodie—and beneath the tank I wore with my shorts. His fingers seek my breast, rubbing over my nipple as he wraps his other arm around me and nuzzles my neck. His erection pokes my back through jeans he’s pulled on.
“Woke up and you weren’t there. I didn’t like it,” he says. His breath is warm on my neck, and I tilt my head to allow him access.
“Didn’t like it, or didn’t know what to do with this?” I press back against his cock, feeling it twitch against me.
“Both. I mean. I could have jerked off and told you about it later but was wondering if that was my only option.”
I thread my hands behind me to grab his hips. “Watching you do that would be hot.”
“Watching you watch would be hot too. But I prefer audience participation.”
His grumble makes me smile. “I’m nervous about the meeting this afternoon with the ad agency.”
His lips make their way up the side of my neck to behind my ear; the action makes me shiver. “Well, I have the perfect plan to help you forget about it for at least ten minutes. And a morning quickie before breakfast is basically fasted cardio.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t work out. The squishy bits of me don’t appreciate fasted anything.”
Saint laughs and takes my wrist, leading me to the bedroom. “That’s a good thing, because the hard bits of me really appreciate the squishy bits of you.”
When we get to the bedroom, he tosses me onto the bed as though I weigh nothing. I’ve never been overly concerned about my body, but the fact I’m with a man who can toss me around feels extra special.
And Saint delivers.
Within minutes we’re both naked; maybe four more minutes later, I come on his tongue. I love the way he throws his whole face into the endeavor. It makes me feel cherished and delicious.
The same way I felt when he encouraged me to ride his face.You gonna hover there politely or are you going to fuck my face like you want it?
