Page 128 of Never Tell Lies

“Let’s go to bed.” He placed his folded trousers on top of his neatly folded shirt and turned to me. “It’s two in the morning and I’m tired of fighting with you.”

He walked over to the bed, still in his briefs, and threw back the covers. I sat on the end of the bed unmoving, constricted in the wretched green dress that clung to me like an unwanted second skin.

“Big. Faker.” I turned my head to look at him, and thanks to the moonlight I was able to make out his features.

His eyebrows raised at me as he stood there, appraising me. I crawled over to him, ignoring the protests in my tired muscles, and placed a hand on his chest, over the place where his heart beat that heavy rhythm. He was practically vibrating. Trying to sleep next to him right now would be like a doe trying to sleep next to a wolf.

“You don’t want to sleep, you’re humming with energy, Alfie, I can feel it.” I took his hand and placed it over my own heart. “I’m humming too.”

He pulled me in for a deep, harsh kiss. “I don’t want to fight.”

“You don’t want to fight because I’m sore, which means you can’t fuck me and if you can’t fuck me, you can’t manipulate me. But we have things we need to talk about.” I was surprised to see him smirking.

“You think the only way I can manipulate you is by having sex with you? O’Connell, there are a thousand ways I could get what I want out of you. The fact that I haven’t used them on you yet is a testament to my self-restraint.”

I snorted in response. “Self-restraint? Are you kidding?” Alfie seemed to exercise control in all things, except for when it pertained to me. Then his self-restraint seemed to go flying out of the window along with moral decency and my underwear.

“You have no idea, O’Connell. These, for example.” He pulled the thin straps of my dress over my shoulders until my breastssat full and heavy above the bunched material. “I’ve barely made a start on these.” He cupped them gently. My nipples throbbed for his attention but he did nothing other than hold them. He’d put me on the precipice and now he was just holding me there. Waiting until he was ready. His mouth moved to my ear.

“I see your heart thrumming through your chest.”

“And I see you using sex to sidestep me again.”

I received a low chuckle in response.

“Not sex, Lola.” He gave the waistband of his briefs a small tug. “I’ll keep these on all night, I’m just going to explore you for a while, that’s all.” His hands drifted away from my breasts, slipping into my hair. He held my head gently, then his fingertips began to move, slowly massaging my scalp. A shiver ran down my spine and I practically purred at the sensation. I closed my eyes and let out a breathy moan.

“See, baby? There are a thousand ways to touch a woman that don’t involve the obvious tricks, and I know them all.” I moaned as his fingers travelled to the nape of my neck, his voice whispering in my ear, hot and enticing. “You’re so tense. Aren’t you tired of fighting me?” I didn’t respond. I needed to stop this. Every fight we’d had today had been about control and here I was, letting him do it again. He eased me backwards and my stupid, traitorous body allowed it. He reared up to pull my dress down and off me, leaving me naked.

What am I doing? Snap out of it, Lola!

“Let’s see what your body tells me. We’ll start with these.” He knelt between my legs and carefully lifted my left foot, holding it gently in front of him. His thumb pressed against my inner ankle and I gasped slightly at the peculiar sensation. He trailed a lick along the sole of my foot, a gesture of worship I associated with submissive men. It felt odd, a little unpleasant. He watched me closely, then his finger followed suit, his nail dragging along where his tongue had been only seconds ago. The bite of his nailstung and sent a sharp shiver of pain-filled pleasure up my body. “You need submission, little Lola. I read you loud and clear.”

He placed my foot back on the bed and reared over me. I was so close to implosion and the only part of me he’d attended to was my left foot. He took my wrist and pinned it out from my body. He took his time kissing each finger tip and I gasped when he bit my wrist. He kissed a trail of soft kisses up my forearm and when he got to the crook of my elbow he nibbled lightly at the thin, sensitive skin. A shiver ran up my spine at the new sensation. It was a part of my body that had never been paid attention to before. He gave me a knowing grin.

“See, baby? Let’s see what else I can find.”

Lola, wake up!

“Stop.” I forced the word past my gritted teeth, and when he continued to ignore me I grabbed his face between my hands, forcing him to look at me. His expression was so incredulous it was almost comical.

“You’re saying no to me?”

“Yes.” I scrambled out from underneath him. I must be out of my damned mind.

Focus, Lola, Focus. You are a showgirl. You are a showgirl.

“Go back over there.” I pointed at the chaise-lounge. He scowled at me but did as I asked. Most men would have sat with a sulky huff but not Alfie. He sat elegantly, like a king at court. He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs, his hands folded together, his eyes trained on me and his head cocked slightly to one side. He was studying every single facet of me.

He could see the rise and fall of my chest and the pink flush of my skin. He saw how I pressed my thighs together and the way my hands twisted. I shuffled so I could pull the duvet over me, covering my nakedness, preventing my body from spilling any more secrets to him. He looked at me as if hiding my body was a great insult. He looked at me like I was a thief.

“Now we talk. About everything,” I couldn’t allow him to win this fight tonight. If I did, he would win every fight thereafter. I had to set a precedent, here and now, that he couldn’t fuck me over and get away with it. He studied me hard. I realised that with the duvet completely concealing me, he had nothing to work with. Most people read faces, but not Alfie. Bodies were his books.

I tried to keep my face still so as not to give anything away, but he searched and finally he found something. Was it the swallow in my throat? The tick in my jaw? His gaze landed on the hand that had subconsciously moved to my mum’s necklace. I dropped it immediately but it was too late. I watched as the cogs in his beautiful mind turned over, processed what he could see, and recalculated.

Oh, Crap.

“Fine, we can talk.” Wait, had I just won? He was about to have a real discussion with me? He leaned back on the soft cushion of the chaise-lounge. “Let’s talk about you.”

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