Page 92 of Cruel Lies

"Nash’s turn," I breathed, tossing my hair provocatively.

The man in question cleared his throat and glared newfound daggers at Angel. "Truth or dare, fucker?"

Angel’s slow smile spread like a slow-creeping moss that turned into a raging forest fire at the halfway point. "Dare."

Nash’s glee was unbridled. "I dare you to kiss Harper."

"Are we five now?" He shot a look of disgust at his brother and shook his head. "I’m invoking my option to switch to an alternate."

"Fine. Truth, then. Why are you still acting like you hate her when we all know better?"

The room grew silent, and Angel’s face contorted into a myriad of emotions.

Anger. Frustration. Regret. Sadness. Rage. And finally, resignation.

He didn’t say a word as he got up from his seat and stormed off, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

Rowan and Nash didn’t miss a beat, though. They both turned to me expectantly and waited with eyes that burned with an intensity that had me squirming.

"I suppose that makes it my turn?"

Nash grinned. "Yes, it does."

I pretended to think about it for a hot minute, my eyes continuously drifting to that closed door. It seemed that Angel had drawn his line in the sand, and I felt a particularly strong pang of regret that the literal door he closed between us was also a symbolic door in our lives that had been left open for me since I met him.

The fact that he was the one slamming it shut this time hurt.

"Make it a good one, Harper. I’d hate to see you waste your turn on some weak sauce shit?—"

"Wait. Since Angel bailed on your turn, Nash, maybe you should go again," Rowan interjected.

I took another swallow of the absinthe and grimaced as the room tilted a little. "Yeah, Nash, go ahead." I needed a minute to find my feet again. Regroup and plan a strategy.

Nash leaned in and bared his teeth at me, inches from my face. The oppressive aura from him was like a ton of bricks squashing me from all sides. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think with him so close to me.

"I dare you to take your panties off and stick them in Rowan’s pocket."

My throat went drier than the fucking Sahara Desert. "I’m—what?"

His breath was hot against my skin as he brushed his lips against mine playfully, teasingly. "You heard me. Slip your panties off and give them to Rowan as a going-away present." Hisgrin widened as he moved his lips to the side of my jaw, brushing my ear lobe. "I bet he’ll sniff them when you’re gone."

Rowan glared at him but didn’t move to stop him or protest the dare. Sure, I could demand another option, but what was the point? Knowing Nash, it would be a whole lot easier to take his first offering. The alternate would be far worse and likely degrading.

I reached under my skirt and tugged the lace thong off my hips, painfully aware of both pairs of eyes on me all of a sudden. My whole body lit on fire as their eyes watched the downward progression of my hands, their fists tightening on their thighs when the first peek at my panties appeared below the hem of my skirt.

I could have just let them drop to the floor and avoided anyone getting a glimpse of what I had just revealed, but I was three sheets to the wind and a lot braver than I had been sober. Maybe it was the realization that I wouldn’t have to look them in the eye over breakfast tomorrow and relive this moment in shame that made me do it. Maybe it was the stupid lizard brain lurking under my inebriation. Maybe I was just ready to lose myself in them one more time.

I lifted a foot and planted it squarely on Rowan’s lap, sliding my thong down that leg first, then the other. His hand circled my ankle, and I winked at him as he held me steady, his eyes never leaving mine.

Like a gentleman.

Nash, though, had no such hang-ups.

The fucker was practically drooling as he watched me spread my thighs just enough to peek at what lay beneath my panties. I could see his cock twitching in his pants as he groaned and shifted his position, that bottom lip trapped between the rows of his teeth, much to my enjoyment.

"Fuck, Harpie girl, you’re a tease."

I tugged those panties off the end of my foot and waddedthem in a ball, stuffing the damp fabric into the front shirt pocket of Rowan’s leather jacket. I patted the pocket gently, smiling as I imagined him pulling them out later and sniffing them like Nash had joked.

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