Page 47 of Filthy Liar

I lean forward, bringing us nearly nose to nose. "Obviously."

Before I can move, one of his hands clamps at the back of my neck, his expression turning serious. "Are there any more little surprises waiting for me?" One dark brow angles. "Are you secretly a government agent here to investigate my immigration status?"

I can't help it. I laugh again, because now I can tell his seriousness is all for show. "I am not a government agent and your immigration status is irrelevant to me." I match his angled brow with one of my own. "Unless this was all an evil plan to get a green card."

Fynn’s grin comes back. "You found me out." He uses his hold on the back of my neck to pull me in, bringing my mouth against his in a breath stealing, toe curling kiss that has me hoping he will go about his duties sooner rather than later.

But, to my dismay, he releases me, grabbing my hips to lift my body away from his before getting us both to our feet and out of the barely warm water. He grabs a huge, insanely fluffy towel and wraps it around my shoulders, enveloping me in plush softness. "Are you hungry, my darling wife?"

My eyes follow the path of his hand as he reaches down to grip the length of his cock, sliding the condom free with a surprisingly violent sounding snap that makes me jump. My eyes jump to his. "Doesn't that hurt?"

He opens one of the vanity doors and deposits the used condom in a trash can hidden underneath. "No." He grabs a washcloth from another cabinet, dips it into the barely warm water and wipes down his still half hard dick. "Now, if snapped like that when I put it on, that would be a different story." He finishes cleaning himself off then turns to me, using another towel to dry his skin. "And you didn't answer me, wife. Are you hungry?"

I have to think about it for a second, because a lot has just happened. Luckily, my stomach is not shy about sharing her feelings, and it rumbles. Loudly.

"There's my answer." Fynn wraps his towel around his waist before stepping close and carefully pulling my hair free from the one still tucked against my body. "Let's get you fed and then you are going to tell me every fucking thing I need to know." His eyes fuse to mine. "And half of what I don't."

It's a reasonable request, but still makes my stomach turn.

When Fynn finds out all the things I allowed to happen he's going to look at me differently. He's going to see just how weak I really am.

The shame is swift and strong and has my eyes dropping between us. And Fynn doesn't miss the change.

He brings both palms to my cheeks, tipping my head up until my eyes meet his. "I understand it will be hard, but I need to know what I'm dealing with if I'm going to keep you safe." One thumb slides across my lower lip, tracing it with a soft touch. "And keeping you safe is another duty I take very seriously." His lips barely twitch. "Plus, I have no intention of becoming a widower within a week."

I'm starting to get a little more of his humor. His slightly drier delivery made it difficult to identify, initially, but there's no missing the glint in his eye, so I roll mine. "You're hilarious."

"Yes, I am, but I'm also very fucking rich and if anyone can keep you safe, it's me." He leans in to press a chaste kiss to my lips. "So, in that, you made an excellent choice in a husband."

I lift my chin the tiniest bit. "Among other things." I try to match his dry tone, but it's not perfect and he starts laughing right away.

He kisses me again before pulling back. "Cheeky girl." Then his hand is in mine and he’s pulling me through the house, pausing to drag one of his T-shirts over my head and to pull on a pair of pajama pants. It's odd to see him in something as casual as pajamas, and I keep peeking his way as he takes me into the kitchen and deposits me onto one of the backed stools lining the gigantic island. The huge flower arrangement he sent still dominates the top, but it's pushed to one side now, so I can watch as he digs through the refrigerator and pulls out a few containers.

He lines two plates on the counter, popping one of the containers open before scooping rice out. He pauses, eyes lifting to where I sit. "I'm waiting."

I shift in my seat. I'd almost been able to forget that it's confession time, and that’s not something I’ve ever been good at. Mostly because everything I had to confess was someone else's sin.

Just like now.

"My father..." I struggle to come up with the words to describe him. None seem to fit, so I decide simplicity will work best. "Is an awful, awful man."

Fynn's eyes lift to me again. "You don't say. I would have guessed a man who attempts to marry off his virginal daughter for his own benefit would be a saint."

I snort, but after a few beats I realize Fynn’s dry tone was not sarcasm meant to be humorous, but sarcasm built on anger.

And it warms me inside. I don't know that anyone outside of my roommate Crystal has ever been angry on my behalf before.

"He has always wanted to be more than he is." I pause looking back on my life through a lens that has changed dramatically over the past few weeks. "He's a coward and insecure and tries to make himself feel better by manipulating and controlling everyone around him." It's easy to see in hindsight, but as a child you don't really see your parents how they are. Not only because you don't have the experience or maturity to identify certain characteristics, but because they're your parent. Considering they never have and never will have your best interests at heart is difficult and painful.

Especially when it’s the truth.

"It's crazy because he grew up in a decent family." I chew my lower lip, wondering for the first time what my grandparents thought of him. "His parents were nice people who never got a traffic ticket."

Fynn finishes scooping what looks to be some sort of sticky Chinese chicken onto the rice, then slides one of the plates into the microwave. He turns to lean against the counter, crossing both arms as he gives me his full attention. "So he wasn't born into the family?"

I shake my head. "No, and he hated it. Was so jealous of anyone who had been."

Fynn’s gaze sharpens, his jaw clenching tight. "I’m assuming the man he wanted you to marry was part of the family?"

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