Page 50 of Tell Me No Lies

Piper laughs, the sound light and sweet. “That doesn’t sound like something that would make you feel better.”

“That's where you're wrong.” I lean in, running my nose alongside hers. “Touching you makes me feel much better.” I let my hand skim up her bare thigh, just like I did every time she came to the table tonight.

“If you're not careful, touching me will get us in trouble.” Piper leans back, lifting her brows in a serious expression. “I'm pretty sure you shouldn't be sticking your hand up my skirt in public. I think that's one of the many things that pisses God off.”

“If I didn't touch you, I was going to touch them, and I can promise you there would have been a big difference between the two.” I trace higher, relaxing more and more with every inch of her I cover. “Didn't you say you had something you wanted to tell me?”

“Shit. Yes.” Piper squirms around, trying to wiggle her way off my lap. “But I can't think with you touching me like that.”

I pull her closer, locking one arm around her waist as my hand continues its upward trajectory. “Try.”

Tonight was brutal, and as much as I appreciate Piper taking care of me, that's honestly only going to make me feel worse. But touching her. Making her feel good. Reminding myself I will never be like them, that will ease the anger threatening to ruin everything.

Piper sucks in a breath when I reach her inner thigh. “Well,” she whimpers a little as I trace one finger along the silky fabric covering her pussy. “I was in the room with all the women, and noticed one of them was staring at me really hard.”

I nip at her neck, letting my tongue flick against her warm skin. “And?”

Piper shivers, her thighs clenching around my palm. “And she motioned me into the hall. I followed her, and...”

Her words trail off as I hook my finger into the leg opening of her panties, probing through slick, swollen flesh in search of my target. “And, what?”

She groans as I find her clit, fingers clenching my arm. Not pushing me away, just holding. “And I hate you so much right now.”

“You shouldn't tell lies, wife. Especially not ones that are so blatantly obvious.” I drag my finger through her wetness. “Because there’s no mistaking how very much you do not hate me right now.”

She whimpers again, hips bucking as I go back to her clit, carefully teasing beside it as I bring her back to the conversation. “You followed her into the hall, and then what?”

Piper swallows, the muscles of her neck working as her nails dig into my skin. “And then she pulled me into the utility closet, and it was Myra's best friend Lucy and she’s married to one of the guys who got in the elevator with us when we got here.” The words rush out, like she's hurrying to get through them.

But we’re not done yet. Having her like this, face flushed with the pleasure I’m bringing her, softens the reality of where I am and what I have to be. “I bet she was happy to see you.”

Piper's head tips back, her breath coming in sharp pants. “Probably.”

I watch her face, needing to see what I'm giving her. Desperate for proof of how different I am from all those men around me tonight. “And did you tell her we’re going to help her?”

Piper’s legs twitch as her lower lip pinches between her teeth. “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

I nip at the lobe of her ear, flattening my fingers between the pillowy softness of her labia before working them side to side. The sound she makes at the change is a balm to my soul. It smooths the sharp edges of doubt and fear tonight brought out. “That's it, Sugar. Let me hear how good I make you feel.” I want it. Can’t fucking live without it.

“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” She rocks against my touch, chasing down what I will always willingly give her.

“Never.”

20

SPRAY STARCH HAS MANY USES

PIPER

“HOW DO I look?” I do a spin, grinning in spite of everything.

Everything being my horrible outfit, my ugly brace and the fact that Tate wouldn't let me touch him last night.

Or this morning.

It's an odd thing to want to complain about only receiving orgasms instead of giving them, but I'm just about there. I enjoy everything he does—a lot. But I would also enjoy making him feel good—especially with how much he’s struggling—and he is taking that joy from me. If we didn't have to go down to the stupid breakfast and stupid lecture thing, I’d throw a whole hissy fit until he let me put my mouth on his cock.

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