Page 26 of Web of Lies
He lifts his hand and places it on my head, threading his fingers through my hair. "Everything okay?"
"Now that you're here, it is."
"Did something happen?"
My hands ball into his shirt, clinging to him like a lifeline. I could tell him, but that would mean telling himeverything. Not only what happened tonight but also how and why I ended up in this situation. And I can’t stomach the idea of him finding out the truth about me, not like this.
"No. Just a bad day," I mutter, burying my face in his shoulder. One more lie.
"Okay," he says in a hushed tone. A smile tugs at my lips when he plants a kiss on the top of my head. "I'll take a quick shower and join you after. Then, if you want, you can tell me what's going on."
I hum in response, not trusting myself to speak, and pull back to look up at him. His eyes lock onto mine, and he leans in, his lips connecting with mine in a soft, fleeting kiss before breaking away. He disappears into the bedroom, and a moment later, the quiet rush of running water fills the apartment.
I return to the sofa, and my eyes drift to the folder. Shame creeps up my throat, acidic and raw. I swallow hard, trying to force it all back down again and shove the memories back into some dark corner of my mind. I wrap my arms around myself and take a deep breath as I settle back down into the cushions.
A few minutes later, Kyle steps out of his bedroom. His short hair is damp and messy. He's wearing a fresh black shirt andsweatpants. Chewing on my lower lip, I watch him grab a bottle of water from the fridge, walk over to the sofa, and sit beside me.
"So, Freckles," Kyle says, nodding toward the stack of papers on the coffee table. "What are you doing there? Is it work again?"
"Something like that," I murmur.
He unscrews a water bottle and lifts it to his lips. His Adam's apple bobs with each swallow, drawing my attention. My gaze travels down his neck and over his arms, taking in the way his shirt stretches across his muscular chest.
But then the memory hits me. The ghost of someone else's hands and broad body caged me against the table. My stomach twists as heat and shame pool in my core. I shift from one leg to the other. I want to feel something else—someoneelse.
I lean onto Kyle's side, who instinctively wraps his arm around me. My head rolls back onto his shoulder, and I close my eyes.
"Is everything okay?" he asks, resting his head against mine.
I can’t bring myself to answer. My chest feels too tight, and the words are trapped in my throat. His warmth seeps into me and wraps around me like a comforting blanket. In his arms, I feel safe, as if the world can't touch me, and every gentle brush of his fingers erases the ghosts of other hands.
"I just... I need this," I finally say, my voice barely louder than a whisper.
"Okay," he says, his voice dropping to a deep, soft tone as he tightens his arm around me and pulls me closer.
My eyes flutter shut as I twist in his embrace and press my hands against his chest, curling my fingers into the fabric of his shirt. This feels right. With his hands on my body, being in his arms feels like no one else can touch me, like he’s the only one who can keep me from falling apart.
But it’s not enough. The ache inside me grows, craving more: for him to hold me tighter, press closer, cover every inch of me,and drown out every ghost of another’s touch. I want him to feel every part of me until there's no space left that isn't his.
Without a second thought, I rise and swing a leg over Kyle's lap, straddling him. His eyes widen with surprise, and he lowers the bottle. I take it from his hand, screw the cap back on, and set it aside. Then I slide my arms around his neck, fingers burying in his damp hair, and press myself close before crashing my lips to his.
Kyle's hands land on my waist, and he tilts his head, deepening the kiss until there's no space left between us. His tongue slips into my mouth. The familiar taste of him and mint floods my senses, making my head spin. Without thinking, I rock my hips against his, and a low moan slips from my throat.
He groans, the sound low, the vibration in his chest rippling through me like a shockwave. His grip on my waist tightens, fingers digging in as he guides my movements, his cock twitching to life beneath me. I grind against him, feeling his bulge grow harder. But then Kyle breaks the kiss.
"Easy there, Freckles," he says. "Not that I'm complaining, but something feels off."
"Shut up," I breathe, my voice rough and shaking. Kyle raises a brow, his eyes flicking over my face as if he's trying to read between the lines. He opens his mouth to say something, but I shake my head and press my lips back to his.
Without breaking the kiss, I push myself to my feet and awkwardly shift on the sofa cushions while peeling off the boxer briefs. Once they are gone, I lower myself again and straddle him, but his hands catch my ass and stop me just inches above his lap.
"Are you sure about this?" His eyes meet mine.
I swallow hard as my heart skips a beat. "Yeah. I need it. Just… like this," I whisper, and reach between us, slipping my hand into the waistband of his sweats and wrapping my fingersaround his cock, thick and heavy in my hand. I give him a slow pump, pulling a deep grunt from his throat.
His hands tighten on my ass as he guides me, and I hold him steady. The swollen tip brushes against my slick opening, and my jaw slacks as it pushes in. My body welcomes him greedily, clenching as he sinks in deeper, inch by thick inch, each piercing of his catching onto my rim before it slips in. My head drops to his shoulder as a moan rolls off my lips. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding onto him as he stretches me open.
Once I'm settled on top of him and he fills me all the way, my eyes flutter shut. My heart drums against my rib cage in a violent rhythm as if it might burst.
