Page 91 of The Lies We Steal

I thought he would have time to cool down before we headed back downstairs. I was going to give him space, let him punch something, but we didn’t even get out of the office.

We had been so absorbed with the video that neither of us heard our phones buzzing in our pockets until it was too late.

Lyra had blown my phone up with texts and calls, all of them reading the same thing, “Get the hell out of that office.” Greg was on his way from the party, and by the time we had read the messages, he was already messing with the doorknob.

My heart dropped to my feet as we rushed to shove everything back into the safe, shutting it as quietly and quickly as possible. My wild eyes searched for places to hide, the sound of the lock wiggling making a trail of sweat race down my back.

We were screwed.

Until Alistair palmed my elbow, jerking me into the closet across the room. He shut the door, the plantation shutter door allowing us to see bits and pieces of what was happening outside.

I couldn’t breathe, I felt weak and lightheaded as I rested my hands against the tight walls, my back cemented to Alistair’s chest as we waited with charged pants. I was frozen as I watched Mr. West waltz into his office.

His expensive shoes floated across the carpet as he made his way around to his desk. I could feel the fury sweeping off Alistair’s chest, his heart beating vigorously against my spine.

He wanted to do something stupid. His anger getting the best of him at the moment. The man who’d made a deal that ended his friend's life was only a few feet away and I was nothing but a toothpick holding the dam back.

I felt him shift his weight and I panicked.

My hand darted down to his, wrapping around his long fingers like a child seeking solace. I folded my hand around him, clutching harshly. I wasn’t doing it to protect him, I was doing it to protect myself.

If he busted out of here we were both fucked and I wasn’t going down with him. As much as I hated it, we were in this position together.

Greg fiddled with his computer, sitting in his chair and making himself comfortable. I had no idea how long he’d be there and I didn’t know if I could stand here forever.

I shut my eyes, pinching them as I tried to imagine anywhere else instead of this claustrophobic room with the one man on earth I couldn’t stand. My breaths came out erratic and it felt like there was nothing I could do to calm my galloping heart.

My brain was submerged with distress signals. The ability to process this anxiety was shutting down my system. Everything felt scattered and normal function felt unlikely.

Just beyond my shut eyes, Alistair let go of my hand and both of his hands come down to my hips stopping there with authority, grounding me to my spot. I felt my breath in my stomach, the collapsing of my rib cage over and over again.

With gentle strokes, he followed the curves of my body like a reserved path. Fingertips ghosting over the material of my dress, all the way to my chest where he paused.

I was cast in a daydream, nothing here felt real.

Not even when his hands slipping below the fabric, callused palms brushed my tender nipples and it sent tiny bolts of lightning to my center. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I should have been furious. I should have stopped him, but it was as if another person had taken over my body.

An alter-ego had come out to guard me against the terror.

I tilted my head back onto his shoulder, my nose brushing his razor-sharp jawline and I swore it almost cut me.

“Can you feel that, Little Thief?” He murmurs, so inaudibly that I thought I might be hallucinating.

I nod agreeing so that he’ll continue to knead my breasts, maneuvering in small circles, lifting the weight of them up as the pads of his fingers dive firmer into my skin. My daze of warmth began to fizzle out as I heard Mr. West move in his chair, leaning up to type something into the keyboard.

“It’s called the flood.” My legs twitch at his voice, “That rush of endorphins that’s filling you up. Your brain does that before you’re about to die, so it’ll be less painful. Making you all tipsy and aroused. It’s why you liked being scared. It’s why under it all,” He’s chest resounds, “We are the same.”

I could feel it.

This sensation of ecstasy that baptized me from head to toe. Drowning me in need. How alive the stir between my thighs felt. The way it was all elevated because Mr. West was but a few feet away. At any instant he could catch us, his hands assaulting my breast, my back arched into him as I panted like a dog in heat.

I felt so near to death, yet so fucking alive.

Swallowing hard as he moved his study south, hands tugging the skirt of my dress up and around my waist, exposing the lacy top of my black thong. I was grateful for the dark color, hoping the arousal already pooled there wasn’t visible to him in the dark.

“I can smell how wet you are, Briar. Your cunt was needy for me in the pool and she’s needy for me now and I’ve barely even fucking touched you.” He talks to me like I’m in trouble. Speaking down to me, as his palm traced the curve of my ass.

My body trembled from the feeling, making me shift so that I could feel his cock pushing into me from behind. I could feel my mouth hanging open in silent pleasure, my body betraying all forms of control I’d previously had over myself.

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