Page 114 of When Lies Unfold

I frown, because how the hell does he?—

“I pay to know what goes on in our village, Lola.” His words may be soft-spoken, but they’re still coated with his trademark arrogance.

I barely resist rolling my eyes before quietly adding, “Well, even if I hadn’t gone to see him, the jungle always helps me clear my head.” My voice grows softer. “There’s a certain tranquility it holds.”

The abrupt knock at the door precedes Gordo’s voice as he calls through the door. “Boss? We got a problem.” A heavy sense of urgency laces his tone, sending alarm ricocheting through me.

I raise my head to find Santy pinching his eyes closed, his mouth pressed into a punishing line. His low, murmured “Fuck” is encapsulated with regret before he calls out, “Gimme a minute.”

When I shift to move off him, his eyes flare open, and his arm bands tightly around me. His brows descend fiercely. “What do you think you’re doin’?”

Suddenly feeling far more vulnerable than ever, I focus on his skull-covered throat. My tone is casual but subdued. “Gordo needs you, so I should get going.”

After all, what’s done is done. Nothing can come of this, and I’m certainly not delusional enough to romanticize it.

Every romantic tendency I ever possessed was eviscerated from me long ago.

Reinforcing my defenses, I imagine steel infusing my vertebrae before daring to meet his penetrating gaze. “I think it’s safer to pretend this never happened.”

His arm goes slack, and I take advantage of it to slip off him. I ignore the instant sense of loss once he’s no longer inside me and the subsequent yearning for him that follows on its heels.

The twinge of pain in my shoulder as I rise off the bed makes me wince, and his narrowed eyes tell me he noticed.

Frantic to retrieve my clothes, I circle the bed to escape to the bathroom. All the while, I’m inwardly cringing at how awkward this is. Yes, I was naked moments ago, but we were both very much distracted.

Now, though, as I walk away, Santy’s attention weighs heavily on me as the mixture of our cum leaks down the inside of my thighs.

I don’t get more than a few feet from the bathroom entrance when it dawns on me. My only clothing is a sports bra that’s now in shreds and leggings that are coated in Belleza’s blood.

At the sight of my discarded clothes in the bathroom, a rush of icy pinpricks scores my skin, my heart lurching with a crevasse that maws open. My vision grows hazy at the edges while I vaguely register the sound of Santy rising from the bed and a dresser drawer sliding open.

“Here.” The single word, though uttered in his usual commanding tone, piques my curiosity. When I turn, I barely have the reaction time to clutch the clothing launched at me.

Staring down at the T-shirt and boxer briefs in my hands, I blink twice as my mind races to make sense of this. When I lift my gaze, it collides with his as he surveys me with an impenetrable look. “They’re clean.”

All I can manage is a dumbfounded look in response. Not that he appears to notice.

Casually, as if this is the norm for us, he pulls on a new pair of boxer briefs. I don’t want to admit how good he looks standing there in his underwear, his tattooed flesh on display.

The cuts and curves of his powerful, hard body taunt me as I recall how he felt pressed against me and how those same firm muscles worked hard to give me pleasure.

“Wish we had more time, but duty calls.” His words snap me from my stray thoughts as he disappears into his walk-in closet. He emerges a moment later, pulling on a button-down shirt before sliding on a pair of slacks. As he dresses, it spurs me into action, and I carefully tug on the clothing he gave me, mindful of my injury.

Once I’m covered, a fresh wave of confidence arrives on its heels, and I straighten my shoulders. “So…yeah. This never happened. We’ll go on about our lives the same as before.”

Fastening the buttons at his wrists, he arches a brow at me. His expression is oddly light with a hint of what appears to be mischief.

“So, you’re sayin’, in my next meetin’ with my men, don’t tell ’em how you came on my tongue and then on my cock?”

What an asshole. “I’m not kidding.” I plant a hand on my hip. “This was a onetime thing. Obviously.”

“Mm.” If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he’s suppressing a smile. “Obviously.”

I expel a breath and turn to head into the bathroom. I need to retrieve my clothes. I can stain-treat my leggings, at the very least. “Talking to you is pointless.”

“Leave your stuff. I’ll get you replacement leggin’s and a sports bra.”

I hesitate in the bathroom doorway, my eyes locking on Santy’s reflection in the enormous bathroom mirror. He gathers a different pair of black boots and socks.

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