Page 55 of ILY
I grimace. “Yes, and a groundhog.” He won’t distract me with his sexy face, damn it. I refuse to let him. It is hard though, especially when he’s just so fucking hot all the time.
“Anyway,” I say, desperate to keep focus, “my point is, you lied to me, but I never lied to you. This entire thing is built on sinking sand.”
“Is that a bible verse?”
I blink. “I…don’t know. Maybe. All I know is you’re a liar. A very sexy one, but a liar nonetheless. And I don’t trust you.” The words don’t feel like the truth as they trip off my tongue.
His eyes soften, and he looks genuinely full of regret. “I wasn’t really lying. Iwasstalking you, and Idolike you. But I know that me withholding the truth was the wrong move, and I am sorry.”
I blink at him, and he stares back at me. I want his words to mean something. Desperately. But my god, I feel like the wool was pulled over my eyes.
I take a deep breath. “I have more questions.”
He meets my gaze and holds it. “I can’t promise all the answers. My job is still my job, Leaf. And I’m very good at my job.”
Something warm burns in my chest, and I feel like I’m being dared to cross lines. Something about his words sounds like a challenge—like he wants me to push him. I could be reading this wrong, but if we’re going to get over this, I have to test the waters. I have to see what he’ll let me get away with.
“I bet I can make you talk.”
His eyes widen. It’s obvious this conversation isn’t going the way he expected. It’s not going the way I expected, and I started it. I set my coffee cup down and walk over, almost close enough to straddle his lap.
His breath catches in his chest as I stare down at him. “Is your name actually Thorne?”
“It is.”
“Why?”
“You’d have to ask my parents. Icelandic roots, I guess.”
My brows fly up. That’s interesting. He doesn’t look Icelandic. Then again, I don’t know what Icelandic is supposed to look like. So maybe he does.
I bite my lip and watch him watch me. His pupils are getting bigger. “Are you going to arrest me for trying to buy TNT?”
“No.”
“I’m not worth it?”
His hand twitches, then lifts, and he touches my hip, fingers digging in slightly. “You’re worth a lot of things, Leaf. You don’t belong in jail though. Maybe don’t go on the dark web to buy shit anymore because it actually is dangerous. If I hadn’tanswered your ad, someone else might have shown up, and then it could have been you we found buried on this property.”
I feel the blood drain from my face a bit. “How many murderers have you caught?”
“A few.”
“I want a number.”
He takes a breath. “I can’t tell you that.”
Humming, I spread my legs and hover over his thighs, then reach down to pull his shirt up until his nipples are exposed. Making a claw, I scratch down one side, and the left one pebbles. His breath hitches in his chest.
“Does anyone you work with know you’re here?”
He shudders as I take his nipple between my thumb and finger, pinching hard before rolling it. His hips shift restlessly. “I can’t…tell you that.Fuck.”
I sink down onto his lap, and my fingers go for his zipper. His cock is straining against his boxers, and it only takes a small tug to the side for me to free it. It’s flushed and hard, wet at the tip.
I fight the urge to lower my head, kneel between his legs, and suck him down to the back of my throat. I’m obsessed with giving this guy blowjobs. Liar or not.
So instead, I curl my fingers around him and begin to jerk him off—slow and light. I can tell from the frustrated way he grunts and curls his hands into fists that it’s not tight enough. That he wants more.
