Sweet Liar (Dirty Sweet, #1)

“Then this time I’ll tell you. Try to pay attention.” He moved his hands back to my breasts, plumping them. “I watched how your body leaned into me. I watched where. Those were the parts of you begging for attention.”

He pinched my nipples now, light at first, then, when I moaned, harder.

He waited for me to quiet before going on, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. “I listened to your whimpers. If you’d backed away, I would have known it was too much. But you arched your back toward me. So I gave you more.”

He continued this way, easing through each of the same movements as before, showing me how he decided he’d touch me based on my reactions. Teaching me that I was the one who ran the show. All he had to do, he said, was observe. Observe how my breaths grew shallow the closer I got to orgasm. Observe how my grip got tighter on his shirt. Observe how my eyelids fluttered and my head fell back.

I heard him talking. I heard what he was saying, but also I didn’t. I was whirling again in a second, more powerful climax. I exploded like a bomb, shaking and crying out with volatile pleasure. It was agony. It was rapture. It was fire and ice and everything in between.

And I knew—absolutely without a doubt knew—that I was in trouble.

Not only because I was bound to become very fond of this man—more likely, it had already happened, and I just hadn’t admitted it—but also because I was one thousand percent certain that whatever it was that he’d done to me—twice now!—couldn’t be taught to someone else. It was a skill. It was a talent. Something a person was born with or wasn’t. Maybe it could be honed, but only if there was already a natural inclination and a desire to please, and I’d never dated a man like that before. Never dated a man with those gifts.

I couldn’t teach this to a lover.

Dylan Locke was meant to make things better. Instead, he’d ruined me forever.





Nine





Dylan





I was caught. Ensnared in her net. I’d taken the bait, and after one sweet taste, I was captured. There was nothing left for me to do but surrender, let her cut me open and skin me. Let her feast.

I’d never guessed that my end would be so inviting, yet here it was, so delicious and tempting.

After watching her beautifully fall apart—not once, but twice—I knew there would be no sleeping that night. I had to have her in every way. I’d devour her, let myself be devoured, until dawn, if she let me. We still hadn’t made it past the foyer. There were so many places left in my flat to defile her, and I planned to take advantage of them all.

I pressed tightly against her, grinding the steel rod in my trousers into the softness of her belly while I kissed her with abandon. With one hand braced on her hip, another cupped under her chin, I anchored myself in the moment, ignoring the nagging worry about tomorrow and the late hour and the incessant vibration of my phone in my pocket, and kissed her so deeply I lost myself.

“What is that?” she asked, breaking away suddenly. “What is that buzzing against me? Do you have a vibrator in there?” She moved her hands down to my trousers and reached, not for the aching rod of my cock, but into my pocket.

Then she withdrew my phone, still buzzing, the screen lit up brightly in the darkness with a single name—Ellen.

It should have been Hell-en. That would have been more fitting considering the moment she seemed desperate to destroy. She was, in every way, a devil.

The ringing ended and the screen showed I’d had six missed calls. A second past and it began buzzing again.

That’s when I came to my wits.

Ellen calling, late at night, over and over—it had to be Aaron.

I snatched the phone from Audrey’s hand and answered it as I brought it to my ear. “What’s wrong?”

“Thank God you finally answered. I didn’t remember you being such a sound sleeper.” Ellen sounded both worked up and accusing.

I had no interest in addressing the latter. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s Aaron. He’s not in his room. I can’t find him.”

Cold panic washed over me replacing the heat that had blazed through my veins only minutes before. I stepped away from Audrey and ran a hand through the flop of my hair. “What do you mean you can’t find him? It’s—” I glanced at my watch. “Nearly three in the morning. Where the hell would he have gone?”

“I don’t know, Dylan!” She was terrified. I could hear it in the shrill pitch of her voice. Ellen was never terrified. She was cool as a cucumber, that one. Her agitation fed mine, urging me to act.

“I’ll be right there. Ring the police.” I glanced at Audrey and found her already putting herself together, hiding away the soft silk of her luscious breasts, covering the damp curls of her stunning pussy.

“I already have. Please, hurry,” Ellen said, and I hated her in this moment more than I’d hated her in years. Hated the reminder that we still shared our son, though we’d never share anything else again. Hated that she’d asked me nicely, as though she assumed I had a choice in my own child’s safety. Hated the intrusion of harsh reality into my perfect lie of a fantasy.

I hung up on her in reply.

Without pause, I headed straight to the coat cupboard and pulled out the cashmere Ted Baker hanging inside. I put it on, then turned back to my guest. She was just slipping an arm through her own coat. I rushed to help her, brushing her long caramel hair off her shoulder before moving to button her up.

“I’m sorry,” I said, wishing I had time for other words, sweeter words. She deserved better than this.

She shook her head adamantly. “No, you have to go. I get it.” She brought her hand up to stroke her knuckles against my cheek.

I caught her hand as she dropped it and brought it to my mouth to kiss her palm. “I’m still sorry. There’s so much more…” I closed my eyes, forcing away the thoughts of all the more I’d meant to address with her this night. When I opened them again, I couldn’t look directly at her. “I’ll walk down with you.”

We were silent in the lift. I was too worried, too frantic, too furious at Ellen to make conversation. Whether Audrey was respectful of my situation or peeved about the interruption to our plans, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t allow myself to think about it. I could only think about Aaron.

Halfway across the lobby, I stopped suddenly. “What am I thinking? You need a ride.” I pulled out my phone and dialed my driver.

Audrey put a hand up as though to stop me. “I can Uber. You take the car.”

“It will be faster if I walk. It’s only a couple of blocks. I’d prefer if—” I cut off when the driver answered the line. “Yes, she’s ready to be picked up now. Same address as earlier.” He gave me an estimated time of arrival, and I hung up.

“He’ll be here in seven minutes.” I looked out the front doors to the snowy street beyond then back at my companion, longingly. “I wish I could stay.”

“No, please don’t. Go. Text me when you find him safe.” A thought seemed to occur to her. “Oh, and Dylan. When you find him...listen to what he has to say. Kids don’t usually do crazy things like this without a reason, as silly as their reasons might seem.”

My brow furrowed as I endured her advice. I didn’t generally like counsel without invitation, particularly from someone without any kids of her own.

She sensed she’d overstepped. “I’m sorry. It’s not my place. Just...it wasn’t that long ago that I was sneaking out of my house, and I thought I could help.”

She was genuine and utterly enchanting, and I realized, I wasn’t bothered after all by her intrusion. I was grateful.

I wanted to kiss her for it. Because she had perfect plump lips. Because she tasted like honey. Because she was warm and the night was cold, and I’d been in the dark for so long.

But casual kissing wasn’t what we were about, and I was in a rush, so I nodded my goodbye, and dashed out the door.

It took less than ten minutes to walk from my building to Ellen’s. The doorman let me through, having been alerted that both I and the police would be arriving. When I got to her unit, I rapped quietly on the door, aware of the wee hour of the night.