Page 33 of Tell Me No Lies

“Don’t blame this all on me, dick.” Piper wraps the fabric of my T-shirt around one hand, fisting it tight. “Maybe you’re the problem. Did you ever think of that?”

“No. I’ve been too busy losing my shit because of you.” I drag my teeth along her skin, the sharp intake of her breath making my dick twitch in my pants. I shove up to my knees, needing space. “Every goddamned thing you do.” I run my hands over her bare thighs, fingers sliding under the hem of her shorts to reach as much of her as I can as I soak up the sight of her spread across my mattress. “Every goddamned thing you say.” I run my touch higher to grip the curve of her hips. “Every goddamned breath you take. It all drives me fucking insane.” My fingers span her ribs as I drag them higher. “I can’t imagine not having you close to me all day long, but I don’t think I can survive having you that close and not being able to touch you. It was fucking miserable.”

"It was your own fault." Piper stares up at me, the fire I love so much blazing in her eyes. "You could've touched me whenever you wanted."

That breaks a little of the frustration driving me. A smile tugs at my lips. "Liar. The first time we met you aimed your stun gun right at my—"

Piper pulls at the shirt she’s still gripping. Hard. I'm not expecting it, and it sends me toppling forward, barely catching my weight on my forearms. She doesn't even flinch. Like she never thought for a second I’d allow myself to hurt her. Even by accident.

And then her mouth starts running.

"I'm so sorry I was trying to protect myself after a group of bloodthirsty biker-gang-looking guys showed up on my doorstep." She continues yanking on my shirt, like she doesn't want me to get away. "What did you expect me to do? Invite you in and feed you cookies? For all I knew, you could've been just as bad as them."

Arguing with her actually relaxes me. It's familiar. It reminds me she would never let me treat her the way my father treated his wives. "I hope you're not insinuating I look like one of those ugly motherfuckers, because—" I suck in a breath as the warm softness of her palms slides over my bare stomach. Sneaky woman wasn't trying to keep me close, she was working my shirt almost all the way up to my armpits without me realizing it.

I groan, my head dropping to the pillow above her shoulder as the tips of her fingers tease the piercings through my nipples. I’ve thought about touching Piper more times than I can count, but never once did I consider what it might be like to have her touch me. There was no reason.

I've always been the giver when it comes to times like this. Always felt the need to prove I wasn't there to take. It worked for me. Leaving a woman well pleased brought me almost as much satisfaction as my own release. It meant I was different. Meant I wasn't selfish.

Meant I wasn't him.

But that lack of forethought has left me grossly unprepared for the sensation of Piper’s hands on my body.

"I like these." She gives my pierced nipples another flick before her hands shift, gripping the shirt stalled out under my arms. She attempts to fight it higher, but it’s trapped. She squirms around under me, making irritated noises.

Her struggle gives me a few seconds to collect myself, so I lift my head, meeting her narrowed eyes. "Something wrong, Sugar?"

She wads up the entire front of my shirt, fingers hooking through the neckline. "I want this off." For a minute I think she’s going to try and tear through the fabric. But instead she yanks the section in her hands, stretching it away from my body before hooking it over my head, leaving the bulk of the shirt at the back of my neck, but my arms still trapped through their respective holes. "I don't have the same hangups about touching each other as you do." Her intentions register as her hands move to the waistband of my jeans.

I try to roll off of her, realizing this is not going the way I need it to, but Piper moves with me, and by the time my back is on the mattress, she's straddling my thighs, busy hands halfway through undoing my fly.

"Piper." However she tangled my shirt around me is starting to cut off my circulation, so I grab at the mess behind my head and wrestle it down my arms, letting it drop once I’m free. "Slow down."

She goes still, eyes lifting to mine, one dark brow angling.

"I…" How the fuck am I supposed to explain this to her? That I need to be the one putting in all the work. Because if I'm not, I get a sick feeling in my gut. Because I'm terrified that one day I'll change. That one day genetics will catch up with me and turn me into the kind of man I came from.

Piper’s expression pinches, forming a line across her brow. She abandons her quest to get me naked and slowly lowers to lay on her side next to me. "What's wrong?" All the aggravation and sarcasm is gone from her voice, replaced with genuine concern.

For me.

This is why I can't fucking stay away from her. Not only is she ready to come at me at any time, anywhere, but she can turn soft just as quickly. Soothing the raw edges I continue to nurse any way I can. She feeds all the parts of me, and they've been so fucking hungry for so fucking long.

But confessing the real reasons behind my needs would drag me somewhere I don't necessarily want to think about, so I simply say, "I should be the one touching you."

Piper’s quiet for a second, gaze moving over my face, and I know she's analyzing what I just said. Digging into it for a deeper meaning. I would do the same thing to her because I'm desperate to know every fucking inch of her. Inside and out.

But she doesn't ask questions. Doesn't try to get more. She simply nods before reaching out to pick up my hand, bringing it to rest on her waist. "Then touch me."

I hesitate, still struggling with what touching Piper says about me. What it might make me in the eyes of the women who work for me.

“It can be our secret.” Piper scoots closer, bringing the soft line of her body to mine. “No one else needs to know what happens between us. It’s none of their business what we do.”

I know she’s right. We’re both consenting adults. I know I’m not using my position to control her. Couldn’t if I tried.

But this isn’t only about what other people will think of me. I’ve been fighting myself for so long over what I am—what I don’t want to be—and I’m tired.

Piper’s face falls at my hesitation and she gives me a sad smile. "Fair enough." Her fingers circle my wrist, lifting it from her body, and she starts to roll away.

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