Page 14 of Unlawful Lies

I’d been kissed in a storage closet. I’d gone down on my knees for a stranger in the storage closet and been in awe of the manhood in front of me, only because it was so different from anything I’d felt before. Longer than I bargained, softer than my imagination. And harder once I had it between my lips.

Would Edward go farther than the boy in the closet?

Right now, he seems to know exactly where my mind has gone and follows me down that path. “Nicola.” My name comes out as a growl. “I’ll come back tonight. But you’re going to have to let me in.”

I finally manage to tug free of him and flip my hair over my shoulder. “Haven’t I already?”

Nicola

Ibite my nails down past the tips of my fingers, waiting for Edward to arrive.

It’s well past ten, the rest of the house already tucked in for the night. Except for my father, who decided he needs to be “out” with his men, which is code for a trip to the bar.

The same trip he makes every night and is either too proud or ashamed to admit out loud to his family. But we know. We always know.

My mother, Mary, gave my hand a phantom pat on her way out the door. In Arden’s absence, it was better for her to visit her own friends, those she wasn’t allowed to see normally. And Scott? He’s barely here these days.

Either way, it gives us a better chance of searching the house without anyone getting in the way. Once Daddy is gone, Mom usually chases the rest of the guards outside. Says their presence makes her feel like she’s in prison rather than in her own home.

She’s not wrong, either. Ever since the wild hair caused my father to get into the trade and push for expansion, he hired more men to protect us. His pocket grew, and so did the threats against us.

From the Balestra family specifically.

Tonight, however, that leaves me, the housekeeper, and a few scant guards around the perimeter. Kismet, I tell myself, tearing off a piece of my cuticle and wincing at the flash of pain.

Standing on the front stoop gives me the perfect view of the rolling hill down to the main road and the few headlights cutting through the gloom. None of them make the turn up to the house.

I wrap my arms around my torso against the chill, the movement forcing me to stop my anxious nibbling. Nothing but good will come of this. That’s what I have to tell myself, to say on repeat until it becomes the truth. Edward is helping me. And although it might give him a front-row view of the inner sanctum, this is not the base of our operation.

There will be nothing for him to find and everything for me to learn by getting closer to him.

Beneath his skin.

So close to his heart that he’ll melt in my presence and spill all of his secrets at my feet. I tell myself those lies, too, unlawful though they may be. Along with the other ones, the worse ones, that make me want to crush him into a thousand pieces only to remold him into someone who would actually want to be with me.

Me.

Not Arden Salvatore's daughter. Only?—

“Nicola?”

A throat clears, and I glance up sharply, forced out of my head. My eyes squint against the darkness like it will make a shit of difference. My heart thuds a steady rhythm against my ribs, and suddenly my chills vanish. There’s enough heat in those three syllables of my name to make my knees go a little jelly.

“I’m here,” I whisper back.

My breath gusts in front of my face even though it’s early June.

Edward separates himself from the rest of the shadows like my personal boogeyman come to life. The guards are situated around the fence line, and they won’t be passing by this space for another five minutes on their rounds, leaving us a small window to get him inside without anyone noticing him.

“I thought you were going to drive,” I hiss, motioning him into the house.

“And shine a spotlight on us?” Edward scoffs. “I know better.”

How lovely it would be if we were different people. Any other two people who didn’t have our families at war with each other and an impossible road ahead of us. No matter what we may choose for ourselves, things are not going to get any easier.

Even if we find this painting that’s missing.

I gesture for him to come forward and push against the front door. He straightens and I stare up and up and up until I meet his eyes. Tall. Imposing. Dressed in a black-on-black ensemble that makes my mouth go dry and other parts of me go wet.

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