Page 2 of Twisted Lies
My body tightened, preparing to run away as if a horde of paparazzi was nipping at my stilettos.
Core’s cold gray eyes narrowed. “I’m a hard-hearted, ruthless motherfucker who doesn’t know shit about love or relationships.” He pulled me forward, one hand taking a firm hold of my wrists, while his legs forced my knees apart. “And neither do you.” His free hand ripped off my panties. “Perfection is complete fantasyland bullshit.”
His hand slid against my pussy, and two fingers pushed inside, stretching me open. I moaned as I clenched around those fingers tightly.
“See, darling?” He smiled knowingly. “That’s our reality. It’s raw, wicked, and wild—a connection on a level very few will ever have or could even dream of.”
I didn’t have it all figured out. What I did know was Core was no Prince Charming, and I, for damn sure, wasn’t a princess. There would be no fairy-tale ending for us. It would be hard work, and more importantly, it would be real. Life couldn’t be all about tiaras and knights riding in to save the day.
Damn it!I would rewrite my fucking story and leap into the black abyss on faith alone because I wasn’t looking for forever.
I licked his lips, unzipped his pants, and wrapped my hands around his hard cock before squeezing hard. He hissed as he relaxed against the soft leather chair, watching with intensity as I slid to my knees.
This was my give. This was his take.
And there was no going back.
Till death do us part…
1
Sinthia
Manhattan.Past. B.C. (Before Core)
I blinked back happy tears.Me, the girl from the other side of the tracks, had been accepted into my dream school. And naysayers like Kyle Fillion—my worthless ex-boyfriend—could kiss my ass.
Even after all this time, I couldn’t believe his hateful words still hurt like a motherfucker.
The truth of the matter was I wasn’t sure what I was more ashamed of—that I had been so weak back then when we were together, or that he’d proven it so easily when I allowed him to trample my heart and pride without even fighting back.
My heart raced just thinking about that ego-bruising night.No. That’s ancient history, and I’m not that naïve girl anymore.
I brutally pushed down the emotional pain.
Fuck Kyle, and fuck love!
Horns honked loudly, mercifully jolting my thoughts back from an impending descent into depression. I sucked in a lungful of stale, humid air as the cab driver cursed and hit his own horn. He mumbled under his breath while tapping the steering wheel as we sat in heavy Manhattan traffic.
Damn, I should have just taken the subway.
I bit my bottom lip, staring at the bumper-to-bumper gridlock. I was going to be late for work, again, and Grace was going to lose her shit. I pushed a few wisps of blond hair off my face, then touched my neck.
“Great,” I muttered.
The ringing of my cell snapped me from an almost frantic tirade.
“What’s up, Jade?” I smiled goofily.
Only Jade could bring me back from the brink of panic.
“What’s up?” She paused dramatically. “My girl, Sinthia Michaels, has arrived! That’s what’s up. I’m so happy for you, Sin. I knew you would get in!” Jade screamed.
Knowing her, she was probably doing her happy dance in the middle of Manhattan. It was so cute how gleeful and excited she was for me.
“Well, I wasn’t as sure. Getting into fashion school was a long, frenzied, competitive process,” I responded.
Jade laughed. “Please. You worry too damn much. You’re a super-talented clothing designer. One day, your hot collection will be parading down the runway during fashion week. And I’ll be holding court in the front row, salivating over all the clothes I get to snap up first.”
