Filthy Lies Read online

  Watching her struggle had been fucking horrible.

  The doctor, who looked to be barely of drinking age, seemed to know his job, at least. He'd assumed she was my girlfriend as he rattled off the instructions for wound care, prescription medications, and a follow-up appointment with her regular M.D and possibly an orthopedic specialist. I never once entertained the idea of correcting him. She should be my girlfriend—she should be more than my girlfriend actually.

  Nobody else would touch her while she was hurting, unless they were in possession of a Mass Gen ID badge.

  It should be my job to comfort her.

  She should be mine to protect.

  She should just be mine.

  Winter was asleep in my arms when I deposited her carefully onto her bed. God, how I wanted to climb in next to her and close my eyes too. I was fucking wrecked from this night—both emotionally and physically. I bent down and gently removed her shoes, deciding it wouldn't matter if she slept in her clothes. Some healing rest was what she needed more than anything else right now.

  As I settled the comforter over her, I noticed the tight expression she wore, even while asleep. This night had been a grueling marathon, and I knew the very best thing I could do for Winter right now was leave her in peace. She should sleep for hours from the pain medication she'd been given. Whatever problems there were, we could deal with them in the morning. I set her phone on the bedside table and shot a quick text: Let me know when you wake up, and I'll come down. You were so brave last night. J

  I glanced down to find her eyes wide open and watching me. "You're not leaving, are you?" So many times tonight I'd thought she'd been asleep when she hadn't been, as she'd done her best to bear through the whole nightmarish experience. Even in her exhausted state, there was residual panic. I could hear the fear, and it ripped into my heart like a red-hot blade.

  "I thought you were out for the night, Win. It's two in the morning. Go back to sleep, babe," I said as gently as I could.

  "But don't leave me." Her eyes filled with tears as she pleaded, reaching her good hand out to me before patting the side of the bed with the other bandaged one. "I won't be able to sleep if I'm alone. Please…"

  She wants me to sleep in her bed—with her?

  Fuck. Yes.

  And just like that, I caved.

  The whole thing was a no-contest situation, and again, shouldn't be a surprise. My sweet Winter was crying for me to stay. She needed my comfort so she could sleep. She begged me to get into her bed and sleep beside her.

  But yeah, like I had even a shred of strength to resist by telling her no.

  So, I kicked off my shoes and did what she asked of me.

  I lifted the comforter and slid in beside her, careful of her bandaged hand. As I stretched out on my side facing her, I didn't say anything, because I couldn't form words. I was barely capable of believing where I was. I didn't know how I'd gotten here, but now I worried I wouldn't be able to step back like I should do when it was time for things to go back to how they'd been.

  Back to normal.

  Would tomorrow be normal?

  You know it won't be.

  I shouldn't be here, but I couldn't be anywhere else.

  "Thank you, James," she said so softly it was almost inaudible, as she slid her body closer to mine, "for everything you do for me…all the time."

  Her eyes were closed again, but she'd turned toward me so I could see every inch of her face clearly. Winter had always been gorgeous in my eyes, but at twenty-four, she was even more beautiful than ever. The bathroom light had been left on with the door open enough to illuminate the darkness should she need to make her way there in the middle of the night. I used that tiny bit of light to study every feature of her face. I was close enough to feel her body heat. The warm ivory of her complexion contrasted against the sooty darkness of her eyelashes as they lay atop sculpted cheekbones. The pouty, luscious lips I wanted to kiss so badly that I ached, parted as if she were going to say something more. I could tell she was still in a fitful state as she struggled to find the peace of sleep.

  "Shhh, I'm here now. And I'll be here until you go to sleep," I whispered against her cheek before pressing my lips there. I breathed in the scent of oranges laced with the antiseptic smells of a five-hour hospital visit and couldn't pull away.

  She nestled in closer, her lips nearly against mine. "Don't leave after I'm asleep. James. Stay…with me," she whispered sleepily.

  "I'm always close if you—"

  Suddenly my lips were busy.

  Kissing her.

  To be fair, she kissed me first. And once she put those precious lips to mine, all bets were off. I wouldn't stop this. I was finally doing what I'd wanted to do for the better part of a decade.

  It didn't matter that she was still reeling from a traumatic event and dosed with pain meds. I didn't care that she was half asleep from exhaustion. I had no will to resist. None.

  She might not even remember this tomorrow.

  I'd never forget this for as long as I lived.

  Because right fucking now she wanted me in her bed, and she wanted to kiss me. And as stupid as it was for me to indulge in my long-lived fantasy with Winter Blackstone, I wouldn't deny her either. I'd let her take whatever she wanted from me for as long as she wanted to take it.

  Fuck. YES.

  I felt Winter come alive the second our lips touched. It was like she'd been waiting for it, too. Once we started, there was no reeling it in. Why the hell didn't I do this sooner? It was everything and so much more.

  I palmed the back of her neck and kissed down her jaw to nip along her throat. I licked her skin, needing to know what that felt like. She gave me access by tilting her neck, and I understood her gesture for what it was. Submission. Winter was offering herself. All I had to do was take what she offered.

  She felt so good.

  So I took.

  I found my way back to her lips with soft bites and nips trailing up her throat and across her jaw. Sweet. She tasted so sweet. When I pressed against her lips with my tongue, desperate to put any part of me inside her, she opened her mouth with a sexy moan that nearly undid me. With the wet warmth of her tongue tangling with mine, I had the first flash of worry of where this might go. The wild erotic creature in my arms didn't seem like she wanted to stop at kissing. She wanted more…

  "James, please…I…I'm—"

  "What do you want, beautiful?" I managed to whisper in her ear as I resumed my exploration of her lovely neck, unwilling to break our connection.

  "I…I want you to touch…me."

  My dick heard her words loud and clear, as did my embattled brain. "Where do I touch you?"

  She moaned her answer. "Anywhere…everywhere…"

  The princess had given me the keys to her tower with those two words. I would do what she wanted. I'd make her come and watch the whole amazing experience unfold as I did it.

  I slipped my hand under the waist of the yoga pants and watched for her reaction. Her eyes were still closed, but she wasn't anywhere close to sleep. Winter needed something to take her mind off everything, so she could relax.

  I needed to do this for her right now.

  It was on.

  She arched into my hand as I slid it down over the flat plain of her stomach, and kept right on going under the elastic of what I knew were lacy pink panties to find the prize. When my fingers met the soft wet heat enfolding her clit, she cried out and gripped my hand with thighs clenched so tightly I could feel them shaking.

  "You are so fucking sexy like this," I told her, desperately wishing I could see where my fingers were buried. I felt slippery, hot flesh and couldn't resist going deeper. I dipped in one finger and then another, loving the tight grip of being inside her. "Is this what you wanted?" I asked.

  Her answer was to ride my hand like a woman who knew how to get herself off.

  But that was all I sensed coming from her. In her current state of mind, I realized Winter wasn't fully awar
e of me beyond being the source of a physical release she so desperately needed.

  Still, I was at her service as I circled her clit and helped her get closer to it. I couldn't resist playing her body and controlling the delivery of the orgasms. Orgasms—plural. I would give them to her until she couldn't take anymore. The first came on very fast.

  Far too fast for my liking.

  She convulsed against me. I could feel her mouth working against my neck as she gasped out a few sharp shuddering breaths. Other than those small sounds, she was quiet when she came.

  Very much to my liking.

  The second orgasm arrived not far behind the first, as I fucked in and out of her with two fingers while working over her slick clit with my thumb.

  Absolutely perfectly beautiful in the moment. This moment. All moments. I was so fucking lost to her already.

  "Again," I told her. "Take it all."

  I curled my fingers up and inward to find the rough patch of skin. From Winter's convulsive moan, I'd found her special spot and stroked her a little faster. I could have her coming for as long as I wanted to this way. The control was completely in my hands. Knowing she wanted me to do this to her?

  Like nothing I'd ever known.

  Somehow Winter turned everything around on me, and she did it in a split second.

  "I love youuuuuu, Jaaaaaames."

  She said it in a soft burst with her lips right against my neck as she orgasmed for what had to be the third time.

  I heard her.

  The words were spoken under the duress of dominant sexual manipulation by me, but they were said regardless.

  "I…I…love you…I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love—"

  I found her lips and covered them with mine in an openmouthed kiss.

  So I could feel the sweetest words coming from her.

  And into me.

  I left her sleeping in her bed, and it was probably one of the hardest things I'd ever done, and it was only to clean up the mess in her kitchen so she wouldn't see it in the morning.

  The cookies were a bigger mess than the blood actually. After putting the round ones into a plastic storage container, I gathered the deformed and broken ones scattered around the top of the stove and the counter and put them on a plate. I ate two of them. They still tasted great despite their odd shapes, as I knew they would. She made awesome cookies, something I'd known—and tasted—for years.

  Why was I out here eating cookies after what had just happened in her bedroom?

  I didn't know what else to do. If I thought my head was fucked up before, I should probably get a gun and let a bullet take care of my problems. My logical mind told me she wasn't fully aware of what she'd said to me. Winter was injured, exhausted, and medicated, so nothing she'd said could be taken as a conscious statement of truth. This was my lawyer brain speaking to me. My James brain had a different opinion.

  My James brain argued that we didn't put thoughts into words if our minds didn't believe them. Winter could only say the things that were already inside her consciousness. She might be out of it, but she'd said and done things tonight that showed her feelings about me went deeper than I'd ever realized.

  My James brain was a fucking goddamned asshole for dangling something in front of me that I wanted so badly.

  I'd probably do anything to hear her say those three words to me again.

  Those words changed everything.

  Every-fucking-thing.

  I turned off the light in the kitchen and went to check on her one last time.

  She had rolled to her side, her long hair wildly strewn over the pillow like dark silk. Her expression looked peaceful now. The earlier tension had left her—finally—and I was grateful. I hated the idea of her suffering and in pain. I leaned over her, close enough to hear her breathing in a steady, calm pattern of in and out. She would get through this and be okay. Thank God, I'd been here to help her.

  But things would be different now. For us and for our families. Because it couldn't go back to how it had been before between us. Not after this night.

  And I didn't want things to go back to how they'd been before, either. Because even if I did want that, I was honest enough to admit I'd never be able to follow through on walking away from her. I'd have to make some changes—give up some of the things I craved but couldn't have with her—if I hoped for any chance at all.

  I pressed my lips to her forehead gently so I wouldn't wake her.

  "I love you too, beautiful."

  For a split second she smiled.

  She was dead asleep, but she heard me…and she smiled.

  Chapter Eight

  WINTER

  Sex dreams are totally conflicted. On the one hand, you wake up smiling and feeling like you were in on an amazing secret. That's the good part. The not-so-good part is feeling guilty for visualizing supremely filthy deeds with someone you are definitely not having sex with, but wish you were.

  I peeked under the comforter and checked. I wasn't naked. The same pink Red Sox T-shirt and gray yoga pants were still in place. Clothes that James put on me so he could take me to the ER last night. I did remember him eying my boobs and saying they were spectacular when he was putting the shirt on me. Oddly, I felt no embarrassment about that. I didn't care that he'd seen me. Maybe it would help him to finally make a move—

  "The princess awakens." The subject of my dirty dreams rose from the comfy chair in the corner of my bedroom and sauntered to the bed looking utterly delicious as always. He must have left at some point to shower and dress before coming back. "How are you this morning?" He stayed after he brought me home.

  I lifted my right hand for inspection. Bandaged between thumb and index finger with a stabilizer to keep me from moving it. There was a slight throbbing in the general area of the cut, but nothing I couldn't handle. My threshold for pain wasn't the problem. The sight of blood was what I couldn't stomach. "Hi." I smiled at him and wondered how I'd ever repay him for being so good to me. "I'm okay…really, I am fine. James, I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you for all you did for me last night. God, I was so scared—"

  "No need, Win. I was right where I wanted to be." To keep me from interrupting, he held up his palm. "I'm not saying you didn't scare the ever-lovin' shit out of me when you showed up at my apartment leaking blood all over, but I'm eternally grateful I was home." He carefully lowered himself to sit on my bed. "But don't ever do that again," he said sternly.

  "Believe me, I won't. Jesus…" I dared to ask the question. "I was a mess, wasn't I?"

  "Yeah." His stern look morphed into a wicked grin, letting me know there were a lot more details he could have shared to answer my question, but he was being nice instead.

  "What?" I looked at him, supremely jealous he was showered and gorgeous in his worn jeans and soft white shirt, while I was full-scale call-in-the-National-Guard disaster. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

  "How is that, exactly?" He made air quotes with his fingers and was adorably cute doing it.

  I couldn't help staring at his lips as I sought any kind of comeback that would take the focus off me. "Never mind," I said finally, realizing there was no good answer to my original question. An image of us kissing flitted through my head, but the details were frustratingly missing. "James, last night—"

  "How much do you remember from last night?" He hadn't lost the smirk on his face even a little, either.

  "Umm…what do you mean?" Instant fear hit my gut. "Did I do something…b-bad?" My muscles delivered me a swift and silent "fuck you" when I made the move to sit up. The aches and pains screamed at me, and I couldn't help the pathetic groan that escaped.

  "Easy there," he scolded. "You need to take it slow, because your body has been through a helluva lot in the last twelve hours."

  "Twelve hours. What time is it?" I tried to get a good look at the alarm clock on my bedside table but his frame blocked my view. "James, I…I have t-to be at the center by t-t-ten o
'clock." I lost the small shred of composure I'd managed to bluff my way through. Hot tears fell as he drew me in with strong arms.

  "Shhh, you're all right. I got you," he said reassuringly while caressing me up and down my back. "And you didn't do anything bad, Win."

  Despite wallowing in my own personal ocean of self-pity, James was still here with me—helping me through the mess I'd made and taking care of me. I clung to him wildly, again feeling an odd sense of intimacy, or at least the flash of a memory of intimate acts between us. It was weird, and I had no proof that anything had happened, but my subconscious told me otherwise.

  I pulled back from his embrace so I could look him in the eye, because seeing his reaction to what I was about to ask him was the only way I could get the truth. "But what did I do last night? You said something about wondering how much I remembered from last night. Well, the answer to that is nothing really after we left the hospital…so I need you to tell me," I pleaded.

  His brown eyes with the green flecks—that made them so unique—flared enough for me to catch the surefire tell that there was more to the story of us and last night than I was currently aware.

  "Was I…did I do something inappropriate, James?"

  He shook his head back and forth slowly. "Not to me."

  He answered every question like a lawyer, and it was starting to annoy me. "You mean I didn't do anything to you, or that you don't consider whatever it was inappropriate?"