Page 31 of Bitter Lies

“So,” I whisper, wishing for butterflies, tingles, anything but the gross sense of wrongness pulling at my veins.

“You’re so pretty.” He leans in and kisses me softly.

Opening my mouth to him, I sit still as he explores my mouth, almost clinical in my analysis. It’s not bad, but he’s a little aggressive with his tongue.

“Halsey,” he moans, pulling me into his lap and over his erection. Oh boy.

With not a tingle in sight, I practically sag in his lap as he slides his tongue against mine. At the least, although uncomfortable, the past isn’t rearing its fucking ugly head, but I do wonder just how far I plan to go with this as he sucks the sensitive skin of my neck into his mouth.

Is this it, then? Am I destined to only enjoy sex with Griffin? What a horrible fucking notion.

I’m strangely relieved that the decision of how to proceed is taken out of my hands when Griffin says behind us, “Am I interrupting?”

Some part of me must have expected this, although I’m a little confused as to why he’s here until Hogan says good-naturedly, “Hey, that was a banging party. Do you live here?”

Stiffly, I slide off Hogan’s lap and raise my gaze to Griffin’s, a small thrill rushing through me at the look of rage on his face. If I were stupid, I’d believe it’s jealousy, but I’m not. Still, knowing I got under his skin is a victory in and of itself because he’s constantly trying to get under mine.

But why?

“Yes, this is my house.”

Griffin’s cold eyes bore into mine as Hogan looks between us uncomfortably, and finally sensing the mood, he raises his hands. “Maybe I should go?”

“Wise idea,” Griffin mutters.

We both ignore him shuffling to the door, and only do I break my gaze from Griffin’s heated one when Hogan says from the door, “See you around, Halsey.”

But Griffin growls, and my eyes fly back to his, a surge of heat flying through my veins to find him staring at me with dark eyes and flared nostrils.

Ignoring the sweet slide, I raise my chin into the silence, mute under his moody reaction. Why is he here? Once again, why does he care who I’m with? It would seem he doth protest too damn much.

His mouth curves in a wicked smile, and with a shiver, I lean back as he slowly pulls his shirt over his shoulders and drops it on the floor.

Caught out, I run my eyes over his perfect chest, tracing the glorious muscles quickly before licking my dry lips. “What are you doing?”

“Fucking you.”

“Uh, what?” I gasp, goosebumps sailing across my skin as my core spasms at the dark promise. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“You want dick, right? Why else would that douche be here?” He drops his jeans and palms his rigid length.

Staring at his erection with wide eyes, I stutter, “Um.”

“I mean, that was a booty call, right?”

He raises his brow, and I get the sinking sensation he’s implying I did this to make him jealous, which under ordinary circumstances might have been true, and I will die before I admit. But if he hadn’t come home, he would’ve never known. Right?

“Yes,” I whisper, shivering when his eyes flare.

“Take off your clothes. I want to see your pretty tits while I fuck you.”

My mouth drops at his nasty words. He likes my tits? He’s always dated bitches with big boobs, and mine are nowhere near that. Shit, focus.

“You think I’m going to have sex with you?” I grimace, annoyed by the tremor in my voice.

I can’t deny the arousal circling through me viciously, but am I willing to be used and dropped again? There can be no other outcome with Griffin.

He cocks his head to the side and says, with a strange inflection, “Why not? One dick is as good as the next, right?”

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