Page 80 of The Lies of Bryn van Doren

Without looking at him, she reaches over in search of his hand. He offers it willingly, gripping hers tightly.

Didn’t know her, precious, but I owe her a debt.

Jessica blinks her eyes closed slowly, freeing a single tear in the process, as she replays his words from a few days ago. In so many ways, it’s been the longest week of her life. Paradoxically, it’s also been the fastest. Every day, she wakes up with a heavy heart, not entirely sure how to proceed. In ways she can’t even begin to understand, she lost her mother in one agonizing moment that crushed her so fiercely, she couldn’t breathe; and before she could even attempt to catch her breath, the man at her side swooped in and gave her what she needed.

As they pull up in front of his home, as he climbs out of the car without letting go of her hand, she wonders what will happen next. A small voice in the back of her head whispers that she can’t hide in his penthouse forever. It’s not who she is. It’s not how her mother raised her. And yet, an even louder voice at the forefront of her mind declares she’s not ready to let go of Khalohn’s hand. Her whole body aches for him. To be touched by him. To getlostin him—even if only for a little while.

As they ride up in the private elevator, she squeezes his hand and steps closer to him. He looks down at her as she presses her chest to his. Jessica can see it when his blue eyes turn dark in hunger, but he doesn’t make a move—just like he hasn’t tried to make a move the last five nights she’s been in his bed. Only now, she wants him. She needs him. And as she pushes herself up onto her tiptoes, reaching for a kiss, she aims to tell him as much.

The instant Jessica touches her mouth to his, Khalohn loses a bit of his restraint. As the days have gone by, the thread by which he’s holding on has grown thinner as it’s been pulled taut. Inappropriate as it may be, after sleeping next to her warm, soft body for nearly a week without tasting her—the sight of her body tucked into her fitted, sleeveless, knee-length, black lace dress along with her four-inch black stiletto heels has had him on edge all afternoon. When she flicks her tongue out, teasing his lips open, he can’t silence the groan that crawls up his throat. By the time the elevator chimes on the fifteenth floor, he’s got her locked in his arms, his tongue tangled with hers, and her fingers holding tight to the back of his head. Jessica moans, and one of his hands slips down over her backside. At his touch, she arches into him further, kissing him harder, and the thread he was holding on by snaps.

“Jessica,” he growls into her mouth.

His voice is so low and husky in warning, even he barely recognizes it.

“Please,” is all she says.

It’s all she needs to say.

Khalohn angles his head, plunging his tongue into her mouth. She returns his kiss, oblivious to the elevator doors as they open and then close. They’re both breathless when Khalohn finally lifts his face from hers, glances over her shoulder, smacks the button to command the doors open, and tugs her into his foyer. The sound of her heels against the hard floors as she hurries behind him only serves as a reminder of how fantastic her legs look. That one thought is all it takes for Khalohn to fantasize about those same legs wrapped around his hips.

Upon reaching the landing at the top of the stairs, he whirls her around, until her back is against the wall. She gasps, dropping her purse at their feet before he finds her mouth once more. The taste of her soft moan is sweet. Her hands tugging at the lapels of his suit jacket is sweeter. Khalohn is so hard, he wonders if he has it in him to be patient—to shower her in affection, bringing her to the height of her pleasure before indulging in his own. Then Jessica thrusts her hips, in search of the friction she craves, and he decides to merely give the woman what she wants.

The grip she has on his jacket changes as she moves to rid his body of the garment. It hits the ground, and then they’re on the move. By the time they cross over the threshold of Khalohn’s bedroom, they’re clinging to one another—skin to skin. When he reaches down to assess the state of her sex, his stiff length grows painfully hard.

The simple tease of his fingers isn’t nearly enough. Jessica says as much as she pulls away from him and climbs into the middle of the bed. Silently, she reaches for him, but there’s hardly a need. He’s right behind her. Then he’s on top of her, the weight of his body between her legs incredibly welcome. Jessica spreads her knees wide as he grazes the head of his shaft along her seam, nudging her sensitive bundle of nerves before he eases back down. When he penetrates her entrance, his perfectly blue eyes staring down at her, her whole body shudders in anticipation. He pauses, barely inside of her, and she’s certain there’s nowhere else she’d rather be. It’s been over a week since she’s had this. Now, she doesn’t want to be without it.

I’m his,she says to herself, her hands sliding around his waist and onto his back, silently begging him for more.For as long as he wants me, I’m his.

When Khalohn finally buries himself inside of her, he does it hard and he does it deep. Jessica gasps, her nails biting into his skin as she arches her back completely off the bed.

“Khalohn,” she mewls.

He freezes, entirely captivated by her face—her eyes closed, her lips parted, her pain forgotten in one single moment of bliss. It’s then he understands. It’s then he acknowledges just how much of an idiot he’s been. Now, with his eyes wide open, he sees how precious she really is.

Jessica—my Jessica.

With no more lies between them, he takes her slow and makes it last.

When dusk beginsto settle, casting the room in shadows, Khalohn and Jessica are still lying naked together in bed. Each of them on their sides, his leg wedged between hers, her thigh hooked around his hip, his arm draped around her waist—they lay sated in a comfortable silence, simply admiring one another. Jessica memorizes the color of his eyes in the current light, her fingers delicately tracing his cheek along the clean line of his beard. She used to think the silence between them after sex was about pretending; like if they didn’t say anything, they could pretend what they had was real. Now it doesn’t feel like pretend. It feels like pure intimacy. So much so, she’s almost afraid to ruin it.

Unable to hold her tongue a minute longer, she finally whispers, “Who are you?”

Khalohn doesn’t answer. He looks her straight in the eye, as if he’s inviting her into his soul. This makes Jessica almost smile. The temptation to do so feels good. She’s barely smiled in a week.

Still, hoping for more, she amends her question. “Who are you beneaththis?” she asks, dragging her fingers through his beard.

“Just a man,” he murmurs, his voice deep and tender.

“I don’t believe that,” she replies, resting a hand against the side of his neck.

“I loved my wife,” Khalohn confesses. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he can feel Jessica flinch. He tightens his grip around her waist and goes on to say, “I’m not a perfect man. Never claimed to be. Still, I loved her. I was loyal to her. I thought I could trust her to do the same. I was wrong.”

He pauses, never taking his eyes off Jessica. His hand at the small of her back dips down lower, cupping her backside as he pulls her even closer. Her breath catches in her throat, her eyes widening for a fraction of a second before she melts into him. Her hand travels to the back of his neck, her arm wrapping around him as she submerges her fingers in his hair.

“When she left, I promised myself I wouldn’t go there again. I’m a businessman. I make smart investments. I take calculated risks. Matters of the heart are unpredictable. Unreliable. So, I took mine out of the equation. I convinced myself I didn’t need love.”

“Everybody needs love.”

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