Page 3 of Web of Lies
A wave of relief washes over me. My gaze shifts from my phone to the end of the sidewalk ahead. Just one more turn, and I'll be fine.
With hurried steps, I push through the crowd, round the corner, and there he is. Kyle leans against his big SUV as if he owns the entire street. His head is tilted forward, and his gaze is locked on his phone. His black hair is combed back, with a few stray strands framing his forehead. A loose black T-shirt hangs off his broad shoulders and is paired with matching gym shorts. Except for his face, every inch of his visible skin is covered in tattoos, painting a perfect image.
"Kyle," I call out, and at the sound of my voice, he looks up from his phone. His sharp features soften, and his lips stretch into a smile at the sight of me. But his joy is short-lived. His gaze slips past me, and he steps away from the car. His shoulders roll back as he straightens his posture, like a predator locking onto a potential threat.
I break into a jog, and the second I'm within reach, his long fingers close around my arm, and he yanks me toward him. Mybody collides with his tall, muscular frame, and his arms slip around my waist. He tilts his head forward, his cheek brushing against mine.
"Are you okay?" he asks in a hushed tone.
"Now I am," I say, arching my back as I grip onto his shirt. The all-too-familiar scent of him wraps around me. A blend of cedar wood, lemon, and pepper mixed with the slightest hint of tobacco. My heart rate slows, and I melt into his embrace. Not only is Kyle 6'4" and built like a god, but he also knows how to fight. It's one quality I've come to appreciate since I started dating in this line of work. Unlike some, most contract killers and bounty hunters train not only for aesthetics but also to improve their combat skills.
"Is he still there?" I tilt my head to look up at him, his deep brown eyes staring ahead in the direction of my pursuer.
"He's leaving," he says, and loosens his grip on me. "The moment he saw me, he turned the other way. Do you want me to go after him?"
"No." I let out a deep breath and take a step back, running my palms over the crumpled fabric of my miniskirt.
"It was probably just some pervert who wanted to harass my pretty, freckled princess." He hooks a finger into the strap of my crop top and pulls on it.
"Shut up, Sidekick," I hiss, forcing myself to keep a straight face and hide my smile. He always knows exactly what to say, making some stupid, flirtatious comment at just the right moment to lift the mood, even in the worst moments.
A smirk spreads across his clean-shaven face, highlighting his high cheekbones as he runs his finger over my bare, freckled shoulder. The touch sets off electric sparks across my skin as he traces higher until his fingers wrap around the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His lips press against mine in a dominant kiss. My eyes flutter shut, and I melt into his embrace, my lipsshifting against his. Heat climbs up my neck and spreads across my cheeks as I slide my arms over his shoulders, pressing myself flush against him.
"You're so eager." He breaks away from the kiss and whispers against my lips. "Have you missed me?"
"Not one bit." Lie. "You’re the most insufferable man I’ve ever met." Another lie—or maybe a half-truth. Because, yeah, Kyle can be unbearable. He’s loud and cocky. But he also makes me laugh until my stomach hurts and my cheeks burn. And if I’m being honest, he’s the most fun I’ve had with a man in a very long time.
He presses his forehead against mine and stares into my eyes. His pupils are dilated, blending with the deep brown of his irises. With each breath, his warm, minty air tickles my face, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to close the distance between us.
"Yet, you keep crawling back into my bed."
"Just because I enjoy having sex with you doesn't meanI miss you."
"Keep telling yourself that, Freckles," he says, tightening his grip on my neck. "You're such a good slut." He tilts his head, his lips brushing against mine. "Maybe I should take you straight home. Bend you over and fuck you like you deserve."
My breath hitches and my eyes flutter shut as waves of warmth pool deep in my abdomen, but I resist the urge and roll my eyes instead, masking my excitement. "I love our little adventures, but not today." I flatten my hands against his chest. "You owe me dinner. Already forgotten?"
With a low, disapproving grunt, he loosens his grip on my neck and takes a step back. "Of course I remember," he scoffs. "You've got me information on a target for a dinner date." He lifts a hand to my face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "But we could pick up some takeout and head straight to my place."
"No," I narrow my eyes. "I got all dressed up, and you're taking me out." I cross my arms in front of my chest.
Kyle takes another step back, letting his gaze roam over my entire body, and whistles. I'm wearing one of my favorite summer outfits. It's a two-piece set consisting of a crop top and a high-waisted miniskirt in navy green. I would finish the look with the denim jacket tied around my waist if it weren't so damn hot today. I also applied a full face of makeup and styled my hair, which is rare for days when I work in the office. Since there's no dress code for those of us who work away from the public eye, I usually wear skirts or leggings with loose sweatshirts and often tie my hair in a messy bun.
His lips curl into a grin as he spins around and opens the passenger door of his car. Goosebumps spread across my skin as a cool wave of air rushes out and ghosts across my overheated skin. "Hop in. I know a place I want to take you."
"I hope it's nothing fancy." I take a step forward, duck under his arm, and drive my fist into his solid abs before climbing into the car.
"Do I look like I'm taking you anywhere noble?" He tips his head down, and I let my eyes wander over his broad frame.
"No." My gaze lingers on one of his skull tattoos, surrounded by flowers and snakes, that peeks out from the leg of his shorts. Heat blooms in my stomach as his muscles flex each time he shifts his weight. "You look like you're about to take me to the gym," I say, forcing myself to look back at his face.
"My gym has good shakes," he snorts, but then shakes his head. "But no, we're going somewhere else. I'm sure you'll like it." He slams the door shut, then circles the car and climbs into the driver's seat.
Chapter 2
Riley
Kyle's long fingers wrap around the nape of my neck. With his body weight pressing into me, he cages me against the cold mirror of the elevator leading up to his penthouse. My arms are draped over his shoulders as our lips move against each other. His tongue curls around mine, and the taste of mint and him fills my mouth.
