Page 70 of Black Ties and White Lies

I scoff. “Don’t act like you didn’t know that.”

Her eyes search mine. I don’t know if she finds what she’s looking for as I stare back at her. Regardless, I don’t back down. I’ve wanted to talk about that night since the moment it happened. I’m ready to lay it all out on the table now, to tell her how much I fucking hated the fact she crawled back into my brother’s bed that night. He’d spent the weekend sneaking away from her whenever he could, fucking the staff in the pool house whenever Margo was busy.

I’d wanted to punch my brother when I happened upon him plowing into one of the housekeepers. I saw red when I realized he was being unfaithful to her. I’d never been in a serious monogamous relationship, but I’d never pretended to be either. He, on the other hand, had been with her for years. She deserved his loyalty—his faithfulness—and the piece of shit couldn’t even give her that.

“I always wondered…”

“Wondered what?”

“If you wanted to kiss me on that beach.”

I lean in close to her, needing to feel the press of her forehead against mine. “Want is a terrible word for it. I didn’t just want you that night. I needed you. Desperately. I coveted my brother’s girlfriend, and I didn’t give a damn that you were his. There was nothing more I wanted to do then prove to you how terrible of a fit the two of you were.”

I can feel her erratic pulse thump against the fingertips that press into her neck. “Why didn’t you then?”

“Because you ran. You went back to his bed, and I fucking hated the idea of it. It’d already been horrible enough that I’d heard your soft little moans coming through the door as I’d walked by that night, unable to sleep. It was worse knowing you crawled back in bed with him. That he could do whatever he wanted with you because you werehis.”

“You heard us that night?” She looks shocked by the realization.

I grimace, remembering how livid I’d been that night. It was the first time a woman had ever captivated my attention—my affection—and it happened to be the girl my brother brought home to meet the family. “Yes,” I spit. “My room was the one next to yours, it was easy to hear.”

“Carter told me no one would.”

“He lied. He probably wanted me to hear. I’m sure he saw the way I looked at you.”

I can tell she wants to ask more questions, she just doesn’t know where to start. I’ll answer whatever she wants. I’ve already admitted to this much, might as well be up front about whatever she wants to know.

Water splashes as she leans in closer to me. I hold all of her weight, wrapping my arms around her waist. She rests her chin on my chest, looking up at me with her wide green eyes. “That night, he never,” she pauses looking around the room as she gathers her thoughts. “I mean I never you know…”

“No, I don’t know.”

“He didn’t make me…finish.”

I’m both relieved and angry. Relieved because lying in bed, listening to the sounds coming from her…it made me want to vomit. I couldn’t bare another second of being in that room next to them, imagining him fucking her, so I’d got out of the house. I’d been shocked to find her sitting on the beach—totally alone. Yet, I’m angry at how much of a selfish prick my brother was.

“I don’t want to think about that,” I confess. Even if she didn’t that one time, I still see red at the fact my brothereverhad her. That she was his before she was ever mine. Deep down, I’m livid that I don’t even know if she is or ever will be truly mine. Everyone will think she is with the fake engagement, but that isn’t what matters. What matters is I wantherto feel like she’s mine.

And I don’t know what to do with that fucking feeling.

It’s as if she’s completely in tune with me, knowing exactly how to tame the storm that brews inside my chest. She lays a chaste kiss to my lips. When she pulls away, I see the confirmation that neither one of us is willing to say out loud in her eyes. She may have been with him at one point, but right now, she’s here with me.

Turning around, she settles back into the tub, pressing her body against mine until it’s as if we’re almost glued together. I hold her tight, unknowing if I’ll be able to do this again once we leave the inn.

“I did crawl back in bed with him,” she begins. Her fingers stroke the top of my hand, her fingertip tracing the veins that travel up it.

I wince, loosening my hold on her for a moment. “Margo I—”

“Let me finish,” she snaps. “But that was after I snuck into the shower and touched myself thinking about…”

“Thinking about what?"

“Notwhat, butwho…”

My chest squeezes. I hate it, knowing this woman has more of an effect on me than anyone has before. And more of one than anyone will ever be able to have again. “I’m hanging on by a thin thread here. Stop being vague. Who did you touch yourself thinking about?” I let the tip of my finger brush against the sensitive flesh between her legs.

She moans. “You, Beck. Not Carter, not anyone else. It was just you.”

Her body molds into mine in pleasure as I inch my finger in her as a reward for the truth. “It could’ve been me doing it, Violet, if you hadn’t gone back to him.”

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