Page 67 of Pitiful Lies

“Okay, so, we've been a little careless about protection,” I begin.

“Protection,” he repeats.

“Yeah. I mean, um, you know, condoms,” I say, and I watch his jaw tense as he grinds his teeth.

“Koukla—” he starts, but I won’t let him finish yet.

“Angel, I know we don’t have labels for what we’re doing, and I am not asking you for anything. I don’t expect us to be exclusive. And I realize living here for the time being might be putting a cramp in your lifestyle, but I’m working on that. I’ve been looking for rooms to rent, and Maria said her old place is still available so I can call the super after I shower,” I say, continuing with a rush.

“Giselle—”

“Also,” I continue, running right over whatever he was going to say, “I think while we’re intimate with each other, well, we should start using them. Condoms, I mean. But just so you know, I am on birth control.”

I pause, tucking my hair behind my ears, and reaching inside me for a little courage to continue.

“Also, I had my last physical at the start of the summer. Blood work and all, and I’m healthy as a horse. Also, well, I haven’t been with anyone but you since way before that, but I know you can’t say the same, and, I mean, you understand what I’m saying,” I blurt the last, feeling utterly embarrassed.

Seconds stretch between us, and my cheeks are burning. But I don’t look at him yet. I can’t.

What the hell did I just do?

“Can I talk now?” Angel asks suddenly.

His voice is so deep and even it startles me into looking up. But Angel doesn’t wait for me to reply.

He just grabs me by the waist and sits me on his big lap. His hard thighs flex beneath my ass, and I struggle to keep my moan to myself.

One big hand cups the back of my neck, forcing my eyes to meet his icy blue ones, and the other is curved around my hip. Like he is afraid I’m going to disappear or something if he’s not holding onto me.

“First, you ain’t leaving this condo for some shithole basement apartment with zero security. You are staying right fucking here where I can keep you safe,” he says with a finality that brokers no argument.

“Second, demand anything you want, Koukla. Anything. Anytime. Any fucking place. And I’ll get it done. I swear it to you. Believe me?” Angel says, and his voice is little more than a growl at the end.

I wonder if that believe me is more a demand than an actual question. He raises an eyebrow, and that settles it. I nod, answering him.

Because I do. I do believe him.

“Good. Now, third, if you want me to wear a condom, I will. But I’m clean. I’ll send you a copy of my latest physical and you can even talk to my doctor if you want. But there’s only been you ever since that first night you tossed a beer in my face. I only want you, Giselle.”

“What?”

“I am telling you. I haven’t looked at anyone else, Koukla, much less fucked them. There. Is. Only. You.”

I close my eyes and a wave of anguish hits me because I want his words to be true. I want to believe them so damn much.

But I know better. And I hate that he’s lying to me.

“Stop,” I beg him. “You don't have to feed me a line, Angel. I am well aware of your reputation.”

“My reputation? Sisi, I'm not feeding you any fucking line. I’m not feeding you anything at all. I promise you'll know it when I do,” he says, and the innuendo is not lost on me.

Period or not, I shiver and look down, clenching my thighs together. Angel squeezes my neck, and I flick my gaze back to him.

“I’m not lying,” he says.

“The night I left I tried to surprise you at the Den,” I confess, finally telling him the reason I ran.

“You came to the Den?”

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