Page 117 of Loving the Liar

When I hear myself whimper, Chris is on me right away, his strong fingers fisting my wrist and pulling my nails away from my skin.

“What is it?” he whispers, turning on the lamp next to my bed.

“I-I don’t know,” I croak. My voice is barely audible when I add, “I’m scared.”

He lies down next to me, and we face each other. “Talk to me, baby. What are you scared of?”

My thoughts clear, and I focus on the feeling inside me. It’s never easy to pinpoint, especially recently. But tonight, something prevails over the rest.

“I didn’t go to the temple,” I murmur. “What if they punish me?”

His silence tells me I’m not wrong to worry. “Oh my god,” I gasp, sitting up.

“I’ll talk to them,” he assures me, his voice calm. “I’ll tell them you were ill. Or that I had you for the night.”

“Amazing,” I snarl. “Sorry I couldn’t come, another man was using me.” I pull at my roots, letting my head fall to my knees as I hug them to my chest. “Fuck.”

I feel him shift, and his voice sounds somewhere else in the room when he talks. “It’s two a.m., Sweets. Now is not the time to think about this.”

He comes back and caresses my head, so I look up. He’s holding the box of pearls and string he gifted me. Taking the string out, he knots one end, and pushes the other through a needle.

“Chris…what are you doing?”

Is he really planning on making a necklace at 2 a.m.? Apparently, yes, because he takes a pearl and gives it to me.

“Give it a task.”

“A task?”

He nods. “What’s the next step?”

“To go back to sleep, I guess.”

“Be more specific,” he says.

I huff, running a hand through my hair. “To lay back down.”

“Okay. Put it on.” He offers me the needle linked to the string, and I put it through the pearl. Then he looks at the mattress pointedly, and I lay down.

“This is stupid.”

“It works for you, and you know it. If something helps, then it isn’t stupid.” He passes me another pearl. “Again.”

I roll my eyes, but I do it anyway. “To close my eyes.” And I put it through again.

I look right at him when I do so, and that’s when I realize he’s topless.

God have mercy on me. This man fell from heaven and somehow chose to stay on earth for me. His olive skin glows in the yellow light, and with the way it hits his beautiful eyes, they are a mix of amber, brown, and dark green that shouldn’t even exist. My eyes roam from his Adonis belt, up his defined abs, strong arms, wide shoulders. They stop at his sharp jaw.

The corner of his mouth tips knowingly. “Why are your eyes still open, Sweets?”

I giggle. “Because you’re beautiful to look at, and I don’t want to miss one second of it. Do you have any idea how hard it is to resist you?”

His mouth presses into a line, and I can see it’s because he’s stopping himself from smiling brightly. He doesn’t manage, though. My admission has his gorgeous shy smile curving his mouth in the most beautiful, authentic way.

“I think it’s the fever talking,” he whispers.

And when tiny pink spots come to the surface of his cheeks, I burst into a laugh.

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