Page 171 of Never Tell Lies

I dared to look up at him and my chest caved in. Confusion. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t upset. He wasconfused. He fell away from me, in touch and in soul, and I felt the loss keenly. He stepped away and I tightened my grip on his lapels, determined to keep him with me. As if I could fix this as long as I kept touching him, but if I let the connection break it would all be over.

The confusion slowly darkened to cold fury. My gut clenched. I let him go and took a step back of my own until the foyer tablewas between us, the vase of bleeding hearts playing piggy-in-the-middle.

I waited for him to speak. After a long minute, his mask fell into place and his impenetrable walls shot up around him.

“I have to make a phone call,” he said, his voice eerily calm, and I watched in stunned silence as he turned on his heel and left the room.

Sixty-One

Was I supposed to leave?

How long had it been since Alfie had left? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? Who was he calling?I need to make a call.Who responded like that to being told they’d been cheated on? Alfie Tell, that’s who. My unpredictable man. If he still was mine, that is. The thought that he might be done with me sent a sharp pain shooting through my chest, a pain so acute it stole my breath away.

I hovered near the couch, unsure what to do. My head fell into my hands and I bit my lip hard, trying my best not to cry.

A shiver ran up my spine at the sound of his loafers snapping smartly on the tile as he returned. Relief and fear flooded me as I stood like a defendant in court, awaiting my verdict.

I racked my tired brain for the right words to diffuse this situation, but I came up empty. Alfie came to a stop about five feet away from me, staying out of my reach. I expected fury but instead, there was just the same cold confusion. He looked like he was trying to work out a complex mathematical formula. What was going on inside that messy mind of his?

“You’ve fucked me up, O’Connell.” I flinched in surprise. I hadn’t expected those words out of his mouth. “You’vecompletely fucked me up. I want to punish you but I can’t hurt you. I want to throw you out but I can’t let you leave.” His gaze speared mine and I saw the unspoken question there:What am I supposed to do?

I tried to keep my voice steady as I spoke. “Whatever you need to do, just do it. I won’t hold it against you.” I tilted my chin up, my shoulders falling back as I opened myself up to whatever came next. Whatever it was I would deserve it, and I knew that whatever it took to fix this, I’d do it. I wondered if he knew how far I’d go to keep him. He studied my face before finally closing the distance between us, his movements slow and careful, as if he was wary of touching me.

He sidestepped me and I turned with him as if we were doing some sort of dance, his greys locked on my blues, until he stood with his back to the couch. He didn’t sit. He gazed down at me and just as I was about to cave and drop my gaze, he spoke.

“Kneel.”

I stared at him, shocked. I didn’t understand but I followed his order anyway. With curiosity sparking in my belly, I knelt. The effect on my psyche was immediate. I already wanted to spill my secrets.

He sat, his legs either side of me, barricading me in. “Place your hands on your thighs, palms up.” Again, I hesitated for only a moment before complying.

“What are you doing, Alfie?” I breathed, unsure if I was even supposed to speak. The fact that I was questioning my freedom to talk should have worried me more than it did.

“I need you to be honest. You’re at your most honest when you’re vulnerable, and you’re at your most vulnerable when I dominate you.” I wished that wasn’t true, I truly, honestly did. “I would rather fuck the honesty out of you, that would work better for me, but at this moment, fucking you would border on rape.” My eyes widened.

“What? Alfie, no it?—”

“Yes. It would. Listen to the rational part of yourself, Lola. Do you truly want me inside you right now?” I searched for a part of my mind that he didn’t own. I craved him as always, but sex? Right now? Like this? He was right. I would let him fuck me out of guilt and fear, and that was a grey area of consent that I’d been willing to overlook. I shook my head, admitting I didn’t want him, and the sadness in his eyes was unmistakable. But I hoped gratitude was showing in mine. Even now, when he must hate me, he was still taking care of me, he still knew my body better than I knew it myself.

I lowered my gaze and gasped when he forced my chin up. The coldness had returned to his eyes. His hands eased into my hair, coaxing it into a ponytail that he wound around his right fist. His hand came to a stop at the nape of my neck, his grip painfully tight. He tested his grip, manoeuvring my head like I was a puppet. He held me in place, his gaze locked on mine, searching.

Just then, the lift pinged behind me and I heard a pair of smart shoes step into the room. Humiliation flared at being seen like this and I tried to rise but Alfie’s grip on my hair forbade it. He gave the person behind me a glance and I wondered who it was and if it was whoever he had disappeared to call. Was he really going to do this with an audience? Why? I didn’t want this. I didn’t.

“Tell me to stop, Lola.” Tell him to stop? I couldn’t. He was giving me this one shot at an out, but I couldn’t take it. I shook my head as well as I could manage and met his gaze.

“When?”What?It took me a moment to understand what he was talking about. I guess the cross-examination had begun.

“Yesterday afternoon,” I said, my throat hoarse. I hated myself for putting us here. We’d made love on this couch, watched TV on this couch, and now…

“You were wearing the dress I bought for you.” It wasn’t a question and a fresh wave of guilt washed over me. I lowered my gaze again, ashamed, unable to take the look in his eyes or the barely restrained hurt in his voice. He tightened his grip further, and I winced but didn’t complain, only brought my eyes back up to his. I was oddly grateful. Despite the humiliation at being watched by an unknown person, despite the pain, he hadn’t thrown me away yet. He was talking to me. He was trying.

“Why? I was good to you yesterday, I’m sure of it. I gave you a gift, I sent you flowers. I did not impose on or harass you in any way. I did everything right.” His brows furrowed and this time I couldn’t help the tear that slid down my cheek. My heart was breaking. However I’d expected this to go, it wasn’t like this. It had never occurred to me that he might consider this his fault. His eyes drifted over my face, studying me before falling on my mouth. “What made you lean in and give your mouth to another man?”

“I don’t know.” I sniffed.

“Try again.” His tone was as cold and unforgiving as the tile I knelt upon. I gulped and tried to straighten out my scrambling thoughts, but how could I explain it to him when I didn’t understand it myself?

“I didn’t lean in…exactly,” I said, trying to think over the moments before my lips had met Bradley’s. Why had I done it?

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