Dirty Lies Read online

  To an outsider, it would look like I cared about the girl in my arms. And I was starting to care about her. But why her? Why Skylar and not any of the dozen or so other beautiful women I'd hooked up with over the years?

  It was more than the physical attraction, obviously. Was it because she made me laugh, or was it her quick mind and how she read voraciously? Her favorite book as a child was Harriet the Spy, and now she read true crime. None of the women I'd screwed in recent years read much, and if they had, I hadn't spent enough time with them to find out their preferences.

  I swept Skylar's hair away from her neck, and she pressed her body closer. The coral hue of her little dress made her skin look more velvety and pale, and I longed to lick her from head to toe. We lay tight together, watching the slow movie. I became absorbed in the plot.

  After an hour or so, she rolled over and pressed her nose into my chest, puffing out an adorable little snort. I almost laughed aloud at the thought of putting a woman to sleep before sex, but I didn't want to wake her, so I hugged her close, ignoring my erection. Every so often, I'd gaze down at her face and brush my thumb over her cheek.

  She looked young, yet regal. Her mouth turned up at the corners, and her dark eyelashes grazed the tops of her cheekbones. So damn gorgeous.

  When the movie was almost over, thunder rumbled in the distance. Skylar nuzzled deeper into my arms and sighed.

  "I should go," she whispered. Her eyes opened, revealing a hazy blue color, then fluttered closed again.

  Poor thing. She was exhausted. She'd talked about working overtime on a reporting project and I wondered if she was pushing herself too hard.

  "Sorry for falling asleep," she murmured.

  "Why don't you stay? You had a lot of wine and you're sleepy. And it sounds like it's about to rain. You shouldn't drive."

  "Mmmm." She kissed my neck.

  "You can sleep in my bed and I'll take the guest room. Or the sofa."

  She let out a cute growl of dissatisfaction and pressed her forehead into my chest.

  "Or we can sleep in the same bed. I promise I won't try anything."

  She opened her eyes slowly and looked at me. "Okay."

  I climbed over her body and pulled her to standing. She followed me through a door and into my bedroom, which was decorated in the home's formal, tropical-colonial furniture.

  I was ambivalent about my uncle's home and its luxuries. After backpacking and staying in grungy hostels in third-world countries, the Palmira house and its formal decor seemed cold, like living in a showroom. The four-poster bed with a canopy top in my room was probably the most ostentatious piece, but it would be rude to ask my uncle to redecorate. At some point, I wanted to remove the gauzy, faux malaria curtains tied to the canopy rails that made me roll my eyes whenever I looked at them.

  "Ohhh, pretty," Skylar said dreamily as she touched the curtains hanging around the bed. "Romantic."

  Okay, maybe they weren't so bad.

  I led her to the master bathroom and found a towel.

  "Toothpaste?" she asked drowsily, and I set a tube on the wide counter. She shut the door softly after I left.

  Like I did every night, I locked the door leading to the hallway and made sure my gun was in the nightstand drawer.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Electricity

  SKYLAR

  I brushed my teeth with my finger, then took off my bra and stuffed it in between the folds of the towel, not wanting to fling it casually in a corner like at home. Thank God I'd worn one of my many cotton tank-top dresses. It would double as a sleep shirt, because there was no way I'd trust myself if I slept naked next to Luca.

  The bathroom was huge, as big as my bedroom. It was all blonde marble and porcelain. There was a ginormous Jacuzzi tub, a separate shower, a toilet, a bidet, and two sinks. I closed the door and sat on the edge of the tub, trying to gather the thoughts in my sleepy mind.

  By spending the night, I'd be at his mercy—at the mercy of my own desires. Would he sleep naked? I suspected he'd put on boxers if I asked. He'd been so polite all evening, doing nothing but kissing me. My stomach tightened with desire when I recalled how he'd pressed himself against me on the sofa.

  It was embarrassing how I'd fallen asleep, but I'd been so relaxed lying there with him. Hopefully he wasn't offended.

  I smiled weakly to myself in the mirror. Maybe Luca wasn't the most forthcoming guy about his past. But really, what did it matter? Hanging out with him was awesome.

  Emerging from the bathroom, I went to the gorgeous bed, parted the sheer curtains, and climbed inside. Luca was at his bureau, taking off his shirt, revealing taut muscles.

  He wore black boxer-briefs and I noticed his ass looked really firm. Tonight, it would take all my willpower to avoid sex. And yet, what exactly was I waiting for? Why was I holding back from pleasure?

  He used the bathroom, then shut off the light, joining me in bed. When he leaned over for a kiss, I tugged him on top of me. I ran my hands down his back, then lower. Yep. His ass was indeed as tight as it looked.

  We kissed for a long time, and a fierce Florida summer storm raced ashore. The room was dark save for flashes of lightning. When a loud crack of thunder exploded overhead, Luca protectively squeezed me closer.

  "You're sure you're okay with not having sex?" I whispered.

  "I'm totally okay. This makes me happy."

  He kissed my neck, wrapping a fistful of my hair in his hand and pulling slightly, tilting my head. When he bit me, I traveled to a different dimension. I opened my mouth, gasping at how his lips sent waves of heat throughout my body.

  Luca sat up, kneeling, and pulled me to him, my back to his chest. My hands squeezed his muscular thighs, and I lightly raked my nails over his skin. With his strong arms wrapped around me, I felt small and safe. Luca's hands caressed my thighs under my dress, alternating between gentle strokes and possessive squeezes. My breasts were heavy with longing in a way they'd never been.

  I was also kneeling, and he pulled my arms back and threaded his own through the crooks of my elbows so I couldn't touch him or move while his hand raked my front. My dress and panties were still on, and his underwear did nothing to obscure the erection pressing near my ass.

  "I want you to touch me," I whispered in a tentative voice. "Will you take off my clothes?"

  "Of course," he said.

  Slowly, he removed my dress, pausing to reach around and cup my breasts. Then he eased my panties down my hips, but only partway, so the fabric strained around my thighs. He took a fistful of my hair and turned my head so his lips were near my ear.

  "Tell me if you like this," he whispered. From behind, his hand cupped my ass, then stroked me lower. I felt one of his fingers slip inside.

  I gasped. "I like that. A lot."

  "Good," he murmured, taking his other hand out of my hair. "And how about if I do this?"

  He gently folded me forward so I was on all fours, then reached around and slid his finger into my wetness, over and around my clit. The sensation of his fingers working me with a slow rhythm in both places made my cry out softly from the intensity. I urged my hips back into his hands and rocked.

  "Oh, Luca," I whispered.

  The thunderstorm was everywhere now, loud and insistent. I wasn't sure if the electricity in the air was from the atmosphere or us. Luca whispered something in Italian, then switched languages.

  "You're so wet."

  His voice was hoarse, and I arched my back, wanting more. I felt damp and creamy everywhere. For a chilling second, I thought of James and how he'd once told me I was too slippery.

  "Am I too wet?" I asked, feeling self-conscious.

  Luca stopped, pulled me up, spun me around to face him, and planted a long kiss on my lips. "Sky. No. Don't ever ask that again. You will never be too wet for me."

  "Will you keep touching me?"

  "I think the better question is, will I be able to stop touching you?"

  I slid my panties off my le
gs and lay down. A low growl emerged from Luca's throat and he lay atop me, his skin hot and demanding. He ground his hips into mine, the fabric of his underwear the only thing separating us. I fed on his lips, sucked on his tongue. And yet, I wanted to wait, wanted to prolong penetration.

  "Lie next to me and touch me again," I whispered.

  He did, trailing his nose down my cheek and pressing his open mouth into my jaw as his hand went between my legs. Sweat bloomed at my hairline. Two of his fingers entered me, and I whimpered with pleasure at the delicious, straining feeling. He drew a breath in my ear, obviously turned on.

  Lightning crackled, illuminating the room and our bodies with brief white flashes. The rain came, pounding loud and insistent against the roof of the mansion.

  "This is…this is perfect," I said, feeling like I was telling him a deep secret. I almost wanted to cry from the intensity. I felt so close to him and knew this moment was fleeting and impossible to repeat. Thank God it was dark, because my eyes welled up a little and I shuddered. This was different, special.

  And might never happen again.

  Luca's breath caught, and he spoke in a low whisper as he slid his fingers over my swollen clitoris, causing my stomach muscles to twitch in response. "It is. It is perfect. You're right. We're perfect together."

  I hoped he wasn't lying.

  He teased and touched me, circling and stroking. I was so close. So close. My insides coiled. Tightened. My body was ready for the release.

  "Please, Luca. Please. Please," I whimpered, and he responded in Italian.

  "Sorry," he said after a breathless moment. "I'm loving you in my language."

  My heart skipped a beat.

  His circles around my clit grew smaller, firmer, more insistent. An orgasm tore through me, over and over, and I cried out louder than I ever had, turning into him and crushing my body against his.

  Luca held me as I trembled. Then a thought came to me. How could I be so selfish as to not please him in return? This must be torture for him.

  I put my hand on his chest and gently pushed him onto his back. Sliding atop his body, I kissed him, teasing his lips with my tongue. I sat and straddled his hips, running my hands over his chest, pausing to roll his nipples in between my thumb and forefinger. He gasped, and his chest twitched in response. I pressed my lips to his neck then slowly trailed my tongue down his body, my hair sweeping his flesh.

  "You don't have to—"

  He gasped when I removed his underwear, freeing his straining cock. I looked up, and said, "But I want to. I want to feel you."

  I knelt and wrapped my hand around his erection, amazed at his size and fever-hot skin. I stroked slowly from base to head. A flash of lightning illuminated the room, and I caught sight of his gorgeous face. Luca's brow furrowed slightly, and his lips were parted.

  "Is this okay?" I asked. God, how I hated being so self-conscious. But I couldn't help it.

  "It's incredible. Please don't stop."

  I stroked for a few more moments, and he groaned.

  "I'm not…I can't…I won't last long, Sky."

  With a steady rhythm, I continued, thrilled he was so affected. Then I paused. I teased. I went faster, running my other hand down his thigh, lightly scratching with my nails. He let out a low moan and came, and I'd never heard such an erotic sound.

  I slid next to him and kissed his cheek. Feeling him pant and tremble was so satisfying. I knew he was much more experienced than I was, but his kisses afterward seemed worshipful and grateful. As if the night meant something to him.

  After we'd used the bathroom, he took me into his arms again. We dissolved into sleep, exhausted from desire. I had one last thought before drifting off.

  This was too perfect to last.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Danger In The Night

  LUCA

  Screams.

  I woke from a deep and blissful sleep to the sounds of Skylar screaming for help.

  My heart hammered in my chest, jolting me upright. I jumped out of bed and followed her voice, panic spreading through my body like a wildfire.

  They've found us. The mafia. They're going to kill her. Kill me. Fuck…

  Her screams echoed from inside the bathroom. I practically broke the door down to get to her.

  The gun! I've forgotten the gun…

  She was wearing one of my big T-shirts and stood atop the edge of the Jacuzzi tub. "Luca! Oh God! Right there," she cried, pointing at the wall behind me.

  I spun around, sweat forming on my face. "Skylar, what? What!"

  "The cockroach on the wall. I hate them. Please make it go away," she squealed. "Do you see it? It's right above the toilet. I can't deal with it. It's the worst thing about living in Florida. Kill it!"

  I took a deep breath and slumped against the bathroom counter. She'd almost sent me into cardiac arrest over a two-inch bug. I walked into the bedroom to grab her flip flop.

  She was still standing on the edge of the tub when I returned and calmly thwacked the shoe against the wall, killing the insect. Using a tissue, I scooped up its carcass and flushed it down the toilet.

  My heart almost resumed its normal cadence, and I grinned at Skylar while washing my hands. She remained on the tub and muttered something about how every building in Florida had cockroaches.

  I wrapped my arm around her legs and gently lowered her down, then picked her up and carried her back to bed. In the darkness, I drew her close.

  "Don't do that, Skylar. I thought something really bad was happening to you. It scared me. Next time you see a bug, wake me up without the screaming, okay?"

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Past Is Off Limits

  SKYLAR

  The sound of steady rain against the bedroom windows roused me from sleep. A delicious thrill went through my body. I was in Luca's bed. Snuggling into the duvet, I stretched and allowed the covers to swallow me.

  An ache had settled in my core, like after doing hours of yoga at a retreat.

  Luca, who was lying on his back, worked his arm under my back and pulled me close. My hand lay flat on his hard stomach, and the sheet shifted from the twitching of his erection. I pulled the sheet back to look at him in the romantically gray, stormy morning light.

  I glanced up at his face. His eyes were closed, but his lips turned up in a lusty smile as I curled my hand around his shaft.

  "I think you're harder this morning than you were last night," I whispered.

  Still grinning, he opened one eye and looked down. "I don't know how that's possible."

  He put his hand around mine, and together, we stroked, slowly. Luca removed his hand and clutched the sheet near his hip, sucking in a breath. "If I'm harder this morning, it's thanks to you."

  His eyes were on my hand as I pumped for several tantalizing minutes. Licking my lips in fascination, I stopped moving and touched the tip of my index finger to the head of his cock, swirling a drop of clear fluid around the sensitive skin. He gasped, then came.

  So far, taking things slow and not having sex was proving to be extremely hot.

  A while later, while I lolled in bed half-asleep, Luca emerged from the bathroom in a T-shirt and shorts, his hair wet. He sat on the edge of the bed and caressed my messy hair.

  "Sky, I need my espresso in the morning. Do you want to come down to the kitchen with me? Or should I bring you breakfast in bed?"

  I didn't know if he was serious. No guy had ever offered to make me breakfast in bed. Since I didn't know if he was joking, I shook my head. "I'll meet you downstairs."

  In the bathroom, I marveled for several minutes inside the luxurious shower stall, which was tiled in a deep blue and had a wide nozzle, allowing the water to fall in a column. I giggled with a touch of embarrassment about how I'd screamed when I saw that bug last night. And he'd been gallant enough to wake up and deal with it…

  Running soap over my skin, I thought about how Luca was so respectful of my wishes. Even though we'd touched each ot
her all night, he didn't once pressure me for sex.

  Maybe he was truly old-fashioned, a gentleman.

  After my shower, I found him in the kitchen. The rain was coming down hard, pelting the roof in staccato beats. He had tuned a wireless speaker to a jazz station. The song was old and sensual, something about a valentine.

  Standing at the kitchen island in his big shirt and baggy boxer shorts, I watched with a mix of fascination and desire as he ground the coffee beans. He flashed me a little-boy happy smile, and I went to kiss him.

  It's like we're married.

  The thought popped into my head, and just as quickly, a feeling of shock. I'd never, ever dreamed of marriage. Not with James, and we'd dated for nine months. Not with any other guy either. I hadn't ever considered what marriage would be like. It wasn't something even presented as an option to me as a girl.

  "You're not put on this earth to serve a man or get married," my mother had said.

  No, I wasn't raised with bride fantasies or Disney princesses. James and I had never talked about marriage, because I thought I was too young, and he'd always asserted it was a stupid, outdated institution. So dreams of a wedding cake or a man who would sweep me off my feet were about as foreign as living on Mars.

  Until now.

  My chest tightened with anxiety. What was I thinking? Luca was just a fun fling.

  I had to keep reminding myself of that, repeat it in my brain.

  Only a fun fling.

  C'mon. Long-term material? Luca? He was probably hiding something. Maybe even a criminal past. Luca was so far from a prince or knight or whatever in shining armor, it wasn't even funny. And yet, the element of danger behind his silence added a layer of intrigue to his seductive charms.

  "Okay, so here's what you need to do," Luca said, interrupting my thoughts. He was at the counter holding the coffeepot. He positioned my body close to the counter and kissed my neck. "This is the Bialetti. Come. I need you to see this so you can learn to make me espresso. Oh, and I have some chocolate biscotti."