Page 27 of Filthy Liar

What feels like seconds later, she’s got her shorts on from last night, but when she tugs her shirt on, I see it in the light of day and decide she can’t go back into the bar with that on

“Put this on,” I state, tossing a clean black shirt toward her.

She catches it, looks down at the cotton fabric in her hand, then slowly lifts her eyes to meet mine. “Your shirt?”

“Can’t have you walking around in that tight-as-fuck top with all my brothers downstairs.”

“Humble?” she asks.

Her eyes widen at my words, and maybe I’ve upset her, but I’m a dick, and I don’t give much of a fuck about how she’s feeling about this. This is nonnegotiable. Her shorts are short enough. For a party at night, when I can drag her up to my room, that is one thing.

Shrouded in the shadows of the dark bar. The men occupied by other things, like clubwhores, is one thing. Her walking out there in the daylight in the tiny clothes she wore last night is another.

It makes me a chauvinist asshole. I know it does. But that’s who I am, and I don’t think I’ll ever change. Not in that way. ButDillion is mine, and I won’t have the other men looking at her that way or in the light.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t usually wear tight clothes like this, but the girls insisted,” she whispers.

I can tell she is upset. No doubt feeling self-conscious, even though that’s not what I would ever have wanted her to feel. But she needs to understand how shit is, and her not wearing a skintight fucking top to the club bar is how shit is.

“I love that outfit. It’s hot as fuck. It was perfect for last night. But it’s daytime, and you’re walking through the bar where all my brothers are hanging out. When I get back, we’ll get you some clothes and shit for here.”

She slides her tongue across her bottom lip, then pulls the shirt on over her body, covering herself. I’m a dickhead. Moving toward her, I cup her cheek again.

“You’re sexy, Dillion. Out-of-this-fucking-world hot. I’m selfish as fuck, and it’s only me. You did nothing wrong. Couldn’t do anything wrong.”

Touching my mouth to hers, I kiss her. It’s not hard, it’s not wet, but it’s good. The best. Because it’s real. She’s real—everything about her.

I bury my fingers in her messy hair. Tug her head back slightly. Looking into her eyes, I search them. Fuck me, but she’s downright goddamn gorgeous. I don’t know how I’m going to walk away from her, even if it’s just for a few days.

Breaking the kiss, I nibble on her bottom lip before I lift my head. “Now let me take you home.”

“Okay.”

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

DILLION

Humble leavesme alone in my living room, breathless. He kisses me, his fingers working between my thighs as he makes me come, and then he’s gone. His bike roars in the driveway, and I’m struck with déjà vu. My secret lover rides a bike. I walk to the window and watch him as he backs his bike out of the driveway and then rides away.

My breath hitches.

Could he be?

Could Humble be my secret lover?

Shaking my head, I decide I’m just making things up. Maybe I’m wishing it into existence. It would be easier if that were the case. If I weren't half in love with two men I don’t know.

It would make me feel better, so of course, that’s what I want to be the truth. I suck in a breath and hold it as he rides away. Then I turn around and make my way into the kitchen. I’m starving, and I have to work tonight.

Chewing on the corner of my bottom lip, I open the fridge and check the contents. There isn’t much in there. I ran out ofactual food a few days ago. I don’t know why I’m even looking. Closing the door, I walk over to the pantry. There are some crackers and cookies that stare back at me.

I don’t want them.

I walk out of the kitchen and head into my bedroom. I should be taking a shower, but instead, I set my alarm, climb into the bed between the sheets, and close my eyes.