Page 8 of Sinful Little Lies

Clearing my throat, I sit at my desk and begin rolling a joint when Verena breaks the silence. “You can still roll that, but can we hit the bong too? That shit looks wild,” she asks, giggling and pointing at the four-foot bong collecting dust on my top shelf. Nodding, I finish rolling and tuck the joint behind my ear.

“As you wish.” I agree, reaching for the bong and bringing it to the bathroom to fill it with water.

Walking back into the room and towards the couch, I hold up the four-footer and present it to her. “Alright. All clean, the bowl is packed. Anything else you need from me, pretty girl?”

Fuck.Pretty girl?

It just slipped out. Being in her presence feels right. Saying it felt right. I clear my throat and continue speaking before she can think about it too much. “Need me to help you light it?”

She nods and positions herself behind the bong, ready to inhale. I light the bowl and pull the piece out when she gives me a thumbs up, telling me she’s ready to take the hit.

Inhaling and exhaling, she makes it look so easy. The beauty that radiates from her still shines, but it has been dimmed.

By who or what? That’s the million dollar question. One I would do fucking anything to have answered. Something about her is different. She’s definitely lost some weight and her face looks more sunken and hollow. Maybe no one else notices her dire need for help, but I’m not like everyone else. I see right through her placating facade.

I see her darkness.

I see her rage.

I see her.

My mind flashes with images of Verena standing over a dead body. We’re covered in blood, standing over someone we’ve killed together. I feel my heart pounding in my chest as she turns to me, blood coating her clothing and skin. She looks like the goddess of death. Destructive and so fucking beautiful. She walks towards me, cupping my cheek, and smearing the blood on my face.Pulling me closer to her, she whispers in my ear, the most heavenly words ever spoken.

“Fuck me, Grimm. Use me until every inch of our bodies has been bathed in their blood.”

Verena’s coughing snaps me out of my fantasy and immediately, my hand moves to cover the erection tenting my pants. I turn around and fix my situation as I’m walking to grab the grinder. Dumping out the ash, I repack the bowl and hand the lighter to V. “Would you be able to assist me?” I ask, my voice hoarse. Keeping my cool has proven to be way more fucking difficult than it should be.

She nods softly, a smirk appears on her face, but falls as quickly as it arrived. Just a glimmer of that beautiful smile makes my heart pound. The sound fills my ears and I’m afraid it's loud enough for her to hear it.

Fucking hell, Grimm. Relax.

“That was nice, thank you. I feel good,” she announces, taking a seat on the couch after my hit of the bong. I hope thismeans she doesn’t want to go back to the party. “Do you mind if we stay up here a little while longer?”

Fuck, yes.

“Yeah, no problem. Same old party happens every weekend. It’s not every day that I get to see Verena Losado in the flesh. Only happens once a year as of late.” I joke, sounding more spiteful than intended.

Verena’s eyes widen slightly, like she’s caught off guard. I shake my head as I start to apologize. “I’m sorry V, I didn’t mean for it to come out like tha-”

She’s holding out her hand, telling me to stop. That smirk creeps onto her face yet again, and she chuckles. “I guess I deserved that one. I’m sorry I’ve been MIA. This last year threw a lot at me and work was piling up. I’ve been picking up more shifts recently.” She explains, her eyes shifting around the room. Is she…lying?

She sounds like she's been genuinely busy, so I’d like to give her the benefit of the doubt but something isn’t right, here. In reality, I’m hoping that means she’s been too busy for her boyfriend, too.

I want to ask her about Leo. Are they still together? Has he hurt her since that night? Would she be honest with me if I asked her? Probably not. Sighing, I push the questions to the back of my mind. Unless she brings him up, I need to respect her relationship. No matter how much I want to fucking pummel him for ever hurting a hair on her head in the first place.

Walking over to the couch, I take a seat and her intoxicating scent wafts all around me. That familiar smell of blackberry and cocoa butter fills my senses. My cock jerks in my jeans, wanting to bury itself deep inside of her, never washing her scent off of my skin.

Reaching over, she plucks the joint from behind my ear. If her fucking scent didn’t get enough of a reaction out ofme, the spark of electricity that flows through me when her fingertips graze my skin surely will. If I wasn’t buzzed from the weed filtering through my bloodstream, I would be well beyond fucked from the sheer high she’s capable of giving me from a single touch.

My hard-on is making a great, big appearance right now and there is no stopping him this time. It physically hurts to restrain him from stealing the spotlight and ruining my moment, but I think of things like my siblings, my dog, and the fact that Verena is still with her douchebag boyfriend.

That last one calms the little man down with no problem.

Verena holds the joint out to me. “You rolled it, you light it,” she says. I stand and bow, emphasizing once again that I will do anything for her, no matter how big or small.

“As you wish.”

She giggles at me; the sound making my heart thrash against my chest as it wraps around and squeezes every fucking fiber of my being. She may think I’m joking, but I’m not.

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