Page 77 of Filthy Liar

Hesitantly, I agree. I start to walk back to my bag, but Humble snaps behind me, and suddenly, someone grabs my bag and wheels it over to me. Dipping my chin in a single nod, I look into his eyes.

He looks like he’s about my age, maybe even a little younger. I watch as he tugs the handle from my suitcase up and smiles at me. He looks even younger when he smiles, almost like an older teenager.

Reaching out, I take the bag from his grasp. My fingers brush his, which causes him to take a step backward as he clears his throat. His head dips down, and his focus goes straight to his shoes.

“To my room, baby.”

I do what Humble says, but only because I feel like being locked in his room may be the safest place for me. There is something seriously sketchy about this whole thing. The fact that it wasn’t Humble who told Wackie to bring me here and a million other things.

Nothing really adds up.

I’ve been in weird situations like this with my own family, and I know that nothing good comes from them. A thick sensation of tension fills the whole building. As I climb the stairs, I have a hard time not only seeing but breathing through the thickness.

When I walk into Humble’s room, I pull my bag behind me and lock the door. Taking a look around the room, I am shocked at the state of it. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

The room is clean.

Not just a little clean but spotless.

I’ve never seen a single man’s space this way before.

Everything is perfect.

I’m too exhausted to worry about it, though. Stripping out of my clothes, I am too tired to even open my suitcase. Humble’s dresser comes into view. I tiptoe in my bra and panties toward it.

Tugging open the bottom drawer, I reach inside and slide my fingers along the soft cotton fabric of a tee. It’s so worn. Like it’s been washed a million times. It’s probably his favorite one. I think about leaving it there, wondering if he has a special attachment to it.

But then I decide that even if he does, it feels far too delicious to leave in the drawer. Pulling it out, I reach behind my back and unhook my bra. The straps slide down my arms, and I feel the cool air slide over my breasts.

My nipples tighten as I pull the shirt over my body. Gripping the collar, I lift it to my nose and inhale deeply. It smells like him. Closing my eyes, I sit on the floor for a long moment, just inhaling and exhaling Humble’s scent.

Before I fall asleep on the floor, I force myself to stand and walk over to the bed. When I tug the comforter back, the fresh scent of clean laundry assaults my senses. There was no way he was asleep in this bed when I called him.

It’s as if the sheets were freshly changed just a few hours ago.

Looking back at the door, I shift my attention to the bed again. It’s clean, and I’m tired. I decide I’ll start asking questions later. Because I do have some serious questions. When I slide under the sheets, I let out a heavy sigh, and I decide that I don’t give a damn about the questions because this feels amazing.

My head hits the pillow, and the entire room goes completely dark. At the same time, my mind goes completely blank. Sleep consumes me. I know I shouldn’t feel safe, that there is something going on in this clubhouse, in this group, that is unnerving, but I don’t care right now.

This bed feels too good, and I feel too tired to give a shit about any of it.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep when I feel the bed dip beside me. The sudden jostling wakes me up, but not enough that I can open my eyes. I feel like I’m in a dreamlike state, not quite awake, but clearly not asleep. Almost as if I’m on the outside looking in on what’s happening.

Fingertips dance up my arm from my wrist. Then I feel lips at the side of my neck. I turn my head slightly, and my mouth meets his. The scent, the taste, I know it’s him. Reaching my hand behind him, I wrap my fingers around the back of his neck and squeeze.

Humble’s hand slides around my waist, then dips between my legs. I close my eyes, and my breath comes out in a single heavy exhale as his fingers slide through my folds. Turning my head, I touch my lips to the underside of his jaw.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps. “You’re so goddamn wet. It’s so sexy.”

“Humble,” I breathe.

He hums as his fingers work between my legs. He doesn’t stop, though. He moves them quickly and with purpose, bringing me toward the edge. I’m so close to falling over that I am surprised by how quickly he’s brought me this close.

“Please,” I beg. “Please.”

And please, he does… or at least his fingers do. Pinching my eyes closed at the same time his fingers pinch my clit, I come. It’s fast. Humble already knows every place to touch me. Every button to push. And how to make me come faster than anyone else ever has… not that many have tried. He certainly can do it faster than I ever have.

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