Page 7 of King of Liars

No, it was better in my head than anything that could ever come to life in the real world, I decided, so I could feel better about what I denied myself. But some part of me assured me that was a fucking lie.

I kept looking at that goddamn number he’d keyed into my phone after our first chat.

Just one taste, that’s all I need.

I’d fucked around with plenty of guys before, ones I wanted with a painful desire, but then we fucked and it was over, the lust gone. Surely, it’d be the same with Sy. We’d mess around some, maybe in front of those guys, and that would be the end of it. No more torment. No lingering lust.

Still, there was the fear that any contact would leave me wanting more, but that was unlikely…or was that part of the long list of lies I told myself to justify what I wanted to do next?

I clicked in the message box beneath our last exchange.

Would he know I was typing? Would he happen to have this screen pulled up, thinking about me as much as I was thinking about him?

Of course not. He had the knights to keep him occupied. Hell, they were likely running a train on him in that moment, making him call out the way I wanted to be the one to make him call out.

Hey, man…

As I keyed in the words, I knew I was making a mistake. I’d lost some fucked-up game in Sy’s head, but I didn’t fucking care.

3

Boss

Awalk of shame usually happens after a sex act, but in my case, it was happening on the way over to Sy’s.

The text exchange replayed in my mind over and over again on the drive to his place:

You still hanging with your knights tonight?

Depends… Curious?

He damn well already knew the answer. I hated feeling like he was inside my head, privy to so many thoughts he had no right to see.

I’d finally caved with a simpleyeah, keeping it lowercase, which was actually harder than going with autocorrect and leaving the first letter capitalized.

Surely Sy saw through my ruse…my lie. He’d been right about me all along.

I’m not like those other guys.

I couldn’t believe I’d ever bow before him, endure such humiliation at his hands. And yet, there I was, walking up his drive from where I’d parked on the street, looking at all the cars packed into it, his other knights’.

I hadn’t been interested in the pretense of hanging at the local bar. No. Just wanted to get this over with.

I made my way to the door, where I stood, just as I had the week before.

I had another chance to back out.

I could walk away with my pride still intact, but I was compelled by the same force that had brought me to that house, and I knocked, against my own best interest.

Waiting…my mind worked overtime as I imagined that maybe this was when I’d discover this entire situation had been some elaborate gag Sy and his friends had orchestrated. They’d fucking haze the shit out of my dumb ass as though we were in some frat-porn fantasy. It’d all wind up on video as I found out there never had been any knights or king or sex games.

Just me, looking like a moron.

Maybe that would have been a better nickname for me—Moron.

The doorknob turned, and when it opened, Two stood in the doorway in a pair of jeans, the Calvin Klein band showing beneath the waistband. His expression was locked in that ever-present grimace that his face still managed to look sexy as hell in.

“Password,” he said.

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