Page 32 of Conflicted Lies

I can tell he’s trying to hide a laugh, which fills me with a flash of triumph of sorts. I slide into the car, not wanting him to see my tiny grin.

If my family discovered mewillinglysliding into a detective’s car, all the sentiments of how proud of me they are would be thrown out the window. And, yet, part of me wonders if that’s why I’m doing it. It’s the one thing I shouldn’t be doing. The one thing my mother and father would entirely disapprove of. It makes it exciting.

No doubt they would kill him, though.

He knows this and is apparently willing to risk it.

And while he annoys me, I don’t want him dead… yet. I like playing with him. It’s been keeping me very entertained these last few weeks. Granted, I didn’t think I would ever see him again, and now I can’t get him to leave.

He shuts the car door and walks around to the driver’s side. I make a point not to speak to him as he takes us to my favorite diner, He doesn’t push for conversation, either. He just grins the entire fucking trip like he’s already won.

When we park at the diner, he quickly comes around to open the door for me. I don’t thank him. Because this is a kidnapping. Kidnappers do not get manners, even if they have a badge.

I stand out in my formal silk gown and expensive jewelry. And though the café isn’t busy, the few diners scattered at the tables turn to look as we enter.

He leads us to my usual table, ordering two plates of pancakes with extra syrup and two mugs of black coffee as I take the seat opposite him.

It’s eerie that he knows my regular order. A reminder that perhaps I’m too regimented. But if I were to compare myself to my father, then I’m not half as bad, but I don’t know if that’s a good comparison.

“Care to let me know why I’m here?” I ask.

“Because after this, you’ll be coming back to my place, and we’ll be fucking.”

I sneer at him. “I’m not sleeping with a cop.”

“You’re really hung up on that, aren’t you? Did Mommy and Daddy teach you that police are the enemy?”

My smile is cruel. “Yes. And they also taught me manners and that if I ever need them to make the scary monsters go away, they’ll be there. But some monsters I prefer to slay myself.”

“You seem to be shit at slaying anything. Maybe you’ll have better luck with my cock.”

“Well, it’s significantly smaller, isn’t it? Perhaps this time, I might use blades instead of my hands.”

He’s smirking as he says, “I much prefer it when you use your mouth.”

My pussy throbs, and before I can reply, the waitress stops at our table and places our pancakes in front of us.

His eyes sparkle as he cuts the first bite and puts it into his mouth. “Are you saying you haven’t thought about it? Your kiss the other night indicates otherwise.”

“I…”

“You have. And you aren’t a virgin anymore. So I don’t plan to treat you like one this time.” He takes another bite, and we both know he was the only one treating me like a virgin that night, and it certainly didn’t end on that note. There was no sweet lovemaking. That’s not why I was there. But next time… It could be disastrous.

I want to say I’m not interested, but I’m curious. I might not be able to kill him right now, but if I can strangle him through other means, I’d be crazy not to take that opportunity.

I’m conflicted. I can’t stand this man, but my body is very interested in having another night with him.

“You hate me, so why would you want to have sex with me?” I ask. I don’t understand why he started playing with me in the first place. It’s most likely to get dirt on my family. But surely, he knows I’m not stupid enough to share information like that with him.

“No, I despise who you are. But hate? That’s a strong word.”

“Should you even be associating with me, knowing who my family is? You’re lucky Hawke didn’t break your legs last time,” I say, keeping my gaze on my pancakes. And it goes without saying that if my father or aunt found out, he’d no longer be breathing.

“Eat. You’ll need the carbs,” he tells me.

I automatically get his reference—he plans to fuck me all night. And the thought of it doesn’t disgust me. It excites me. That is so wrong on so many levels. I’m so conflicted, on the edge of wanting it so badly, but knowing better than to reach for it. I’m already lying to my family about him and our association, but this? This would be damning myself. Wouldn’t it? Or can I gain my own fun from it?

I stab my fork into my pancakes and start to eat. Not because he told me to, but because I haven’t eaten anything for at least six hours. I was too nervous to eat at the beginning of the event, and I chose not to eat during it.

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