Lying for Love Read online

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  Gina had never been so glad for five o’clock on Friday in her entire life. It had been one of the worst weeks she could remember. Even worse than when she’d discovered her exes’ devastating deceits. It’d taken every ounce of her willpower to push herself out of bed each morning and make herself go to work especially when what she really felt like doing was hiding under the covers and crying for the loss of the best relationship she’d ever had.

  She opened her apartment door, intending to do nothing but eat comfort food and zombie-out in front of the TV all weekend. But when she stepped inside, she immediately saw the two large bouquets in the living area and the ones in the kitchen.

  She let her purse slide off her arm and drop noisily to the floor along with her keys. For long moments, she stood frozen and stared. Miles had been there. No one else would have done that. A range of emotions struck her all at once—sadness, anger, frustration, surprise. Her body trembled from the onslaught. She staggered to the bedroom where she found even more of her favorite flowers.

  The urge to break them, smash them, stomp them to bits, surged through her. Needing to calm down, to get away from them before making a mess that would take hours to clean, she stomped to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

  Resting her forehead against the door, she took deep, calming breaths—one, two three—before turning toward the sink. Goddamn it. Another bouquet of flowers.

  Fury grew in the pit of her stomach and spread throughout her body. How dare he come into her home without her knowledge, much less her permission? He had no right. Not anymore.

  Throwing open the bathroom door, she trudged into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Mewz sat on the kitchen table, mewling loudly. While she stroked his soft fur, she noticed the card lying on the floor, picked it up, and read it. By the time she finished, her hands trembled.

  In love with her? All the lying, all the damage he’d done and he breaks into her home and declares his love in a card? Bullshit. She didn’t know what his game was, but that was the final fucking straw. She was going to get her key back and make sure he understood to stay the hell away from her.

  Chapter 4

  On the drive to Miles’ house, Gina didn’t let herself feel anything but the anger coursing through her. Anger at his deceit, anger at herself for believing his lies, anger at the pain that threatened to break her.

  Coming to a screeching stop in his driveway, she yanked the keys from the ignition, threw the door open, and slammed it behind her. She banged on the front door and crossed her arms over her chest.

  The sight that greeted her knocked her off balance for a moment. The Miles standing before her wasn’t what she was used to. His dark chestnut hair stuck up in disarray, his clothes were wrinkled, and the scruff on his face suggested he hadn’t shaved all week, but he still smelled fantastic, and it pissed her off that she noticed.

  His eyes lit up, the corners of his lips lifting. “Gina, you—“

  “My key. Give me the key back. You had no right letting yourself into my home.”

  His face fell. “Didn’t you get my note?”

  “Yeah, got it. It’s in the trash along with the rest of your stuff. Don’t ever—” Goddamn it. She would not cry. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to quell the emotion threatening to fracture her resolve. When she had a better grip on it, she shoved him backward. “Why? Was it all a game? Was it funny to you? In that note, why did you say…why…”

  “That I’m in love with you?”

  “Yes,” she said, hating that her voice cracked.

  He reached for her, but she batted his hands away.

  “I’m so sorry, Gina. I never meant—”

  “You never meant to lie to me? Is that what you were going to say? If so, save the bullshit because I’m not buying it.”

  “I just wanted to get to know you. I’d intended to tell you the truth after we met up for lunch that first time, but you seemed so relieved that I was gay. During our conversation, it was easy to see you’d shut down if I had admitted I wasn’t. We never would’ve become best friends. I never would’ve had the chance to fall in love with you.”

  “Shut up. Don’t say that.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “Truth? Yeah right. Suddenly you’re so truthful. I can’t believe anything you say. Just give me the key and—”

  “I left the key on top of the note on the kitchen table.”

  Another lie? Maybe not. Mewz had knocked the note onto the floor. Maybe the key had fallen too. If she didn’t find it when she got home, she’d have the locks changed. Problem solved and that part of her life would be over. Over. A pang of sorrow gripped her. When a tear escaped and slipped down her cheek, she wiped at it roughly and turned to leave. There was nothing left to say.

  “Wait.” His voice was so soft, so quiet, she thought she might have imagined it. “Please.”

  Something in his tone, maybe the pure desperation, froze her feet in place even though she wanted to keep moving, knew she should keep moving.

  “Give me five minutes, Gina. Come in for five minutes, hear me out, and if you still hate me, I promise to never bother you again.”

  With her back still to him, she said, “You had five months. What’s another five minutes?”

  “Maybe nothing but I want you to know the whole truth before walking out of my life.”

  What did it matter anymore? Leave. Just leave. Her traitorous feet turned her around and stepped inside.

  As she looked around the living area she’d once considered her second home, Miles closed the door behind her then walked ahead and took a seat on the soft tan couch that they’d curled up and watched TV on so many times. He motioned toward the matching chair across from him. “Please sit.”

  After debating standing for a moment, she tromped across the hardwood floor to the chair and sat. “Four and a half minutes left.”

  He scrubbed his chin stubble before speaking. “Do you remember the first night we met? How disgusted you were with men?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course. What’s your point?”

  “You were so beautiful, so fierce, but so angry. I was disappointed that I’d never get an opportunity to know you. When you mistook me for being gay, apologized for your outburst, I saw my chance.” She must have glared because he said, “Wait. Please. Just let me finish.”

  She waved him on.

  “We had lunch a few days later, and we hit it off so well. I knew I should have told you then. Told you the truth but I convinced myself that I needed more time to show you I wasn’t like the men who had hurt you, had…lied to you.” His gaze dropped, his head hanging dejectedly. “I know how stupid that sounds.”

  She was surprised by her response. “Actually, I can understand the night we met. I can even understand not telling me during lunch. But five months? All the times we slept in the same bed, undressed in front of each other, all the times I tried to set you up with men. God, Miles. There’s no excuse.”

  “I know. The longer it went on, the more I feared coming clean, the more I feared losing you. So the more excuses I made. I wanted you so badly. So many times, when we were in bed, I wanted to pull you close, kiss you senseless, but to do that, I had to admit to deceiving you for so long. I was a coward.”

  Hearing him say he wanted her, wanted to pull her close and kiss her, made her throat go dry and a warm sensation swirl around her stomach. How many times had she wished he could feel for her what she felt for him? And now she knew he did. They really could be together as lovers as well as friends—if he hadn’t ruined it with his deceit. She’d been lied to so many times by the men in her life. He knew that. Knew she couldn’t, wouldn’t, tolerate it anymore, and he’d looked her straight in the eyes and let her believe a lie. For five months.

  A part of her did understand why he’d let the lie continue. She knew what it was like to convince yourself of something that wasn’t true because believing the lie was easier, believing the
lie allowed you to keep doing something you knew was wrong—because you feared the consequences of the truth.

  And he was right. Had he told her his true sexual orientation that day at lunch, she’d probably have left and never seen him again. That meant she’d have never gotten to experience the happiness his friendship had brought to her life. As hurt and angry as she was, she couldn’t bring herself to regret that friendship.

  “The party,” he said, “last Saturday…I’d planned to tell you that night. Tell you I was in love with you. But then you seemed interested in that guy. I couldn’t believe I’d waited just long enough to lose you to someone else.”

  In love with me. Every time he said it, the more it tore at her heart. “The only reason I was with him was because I hadn’t…You know I hadn’t had sex…Anyway, I thought if I got laid, it would stop me from wanting you so much. The last time we slept together…” Her face flamed, and she decided there was no reason to share that information.

  “I thought I’d die that morning. Lying there, you in the throes of an erotic dream…”

  “You knew? Oh God.” She stood, pacing, embarrassed beyond belief.

  “Not touching you…It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Besides watching you walk out of my life.”

  When she turned, he was right there in her path, only inches between them. She should leave, end this torture, but instead she stayed, gazing into his pain-filled eyes. He wasn’t faking his regret, his sorrow. It was too raw, too close to the surface. She could see it, feel it. She wanted to reach out and touch it, soothe it.

  His eyes shone, a tear slipping down his cheek, and she broke. She reached out a trembling hand and wiped the tear away with her thumb. His eyes closed, his lips parting as he sucked in a harsh breath. She ran her thumb over his bottom lip and blocked out the voice telling her she was a fool. She could have this, have him, if only this one time.

  Rising on tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his. Electricity sparked between them, burning need roused her nerve endings. The real thing was better than she’d ever imagined.

  At first, he didn’t respond, just stood there statue-still. When she slipped her tongue inside his mouth, he groaned, shuddered, and his hand grasped the back of her neck, the other wrapping around her back. She felt his muscles bunch, his grip on her fierce, desperate, as if he was afraid she’d get away.

  She returned his crushing hold, their tongues teasing, tasting each other. It was so much better than the dream. His hand slid to her butt, urging her upward. She hopped, wrapping her legs around his waist, his erection seated perfectly, pressing into her where she needed him most, where she ached. Her hips ground against him of their own accord. Having him inside her was what she craved, what she needed to put out the fire burning, consuming her body, consuming her mind.

  Her lungs burning, she pulled back, sucking in panting breaths. He sucked an earlobe into his mouth, nipped at it, and then trailed kisses down her neck. He lingered at the base, swirling his tongue around, and her nerves responded by sending little shivers skittering throughout her system.

  He spoke, lips still pressed against her skin. “Want you so bad. Need you. Love you.”

  She shuddered in his hold and forced herself to meet his gaze. Love blazed in his eyes, she’d swear it. She wanted to return the sentiment, tell him she forgave him, that she loved him too, but she didn’t trust herself to speak, didn’t trust him anymore. All she knew for sure was that she desired his touch and she’d have it regardless of the consequences. If she could get the sexual tension out of her system, she’d be able to think more clearly, be better able to trust her instincts.

  Instead of speaking, she covered his mouth with hers again and ground against him. He walked, still kissing her, and bumped into a wall—hard. They stopped only long enough for a quick laugh, momentarily slipping into the effortless friendship they’d shared. He carried her down the hallway toward his bedroom—to the bed they’d watched movies in, had laughed in, had slept in as best friends.

  And now, now they would share it as lovers.

  “I don’t deserve this,” he said, breathing against her ear.

  She loosened the grip her legs had on his hips, sliding them down until she stood before him. “Maybe not, but I need it. No talking. No thinking. Just touching.”

  Desire stormed in his eyes as he grabbed the hem of her shirt, but he stopped, looking unsure, maybe fearful. Not having time for doubts, she pushed his hands away, grabbed the hem and whipped her shirt over her head, flinging it across the room. A wicked smile curved his lips as he followed her lead and did the same. Pants followed.

  He stood there staring at her in nothing but her bra and panties. The look of appreciation and hunger made her wet and tingly between her legs. She started to take them off, but he stopped her and cleared his throat. “Let me. I’ve thought about it so many times.”

  Instead of being annoyed that he’d broken her no-talking rule, she shivered at the heat and longing in his voice.

  His fingers trembled as he stroked down her cheek, her chest, and stopped at the front clasp of her bra.

  “Hurry,” she whispered. Slow and sensual was great, but it wasn’t what she wanted right then. She was angry, horny, confused, and she wanted fast, furious, fevered.

  As he popped the clasp and pulled the bra cups away from her breasts, Miles’ hands shook, his pupils dilated, and raw desire electrified the air between them. “So beaut—”

  She grabbed either side of his head, cutting him off with a crushing kiss. His hand traveled down her stomach, skirting under her panties. No hesitation this time. He didn’t stop until his fingers dipped into her wetness. Her body instantly reacted, her legs spreading wide, thrusting against him, needing more.

  He grabbed the panties and pulled them down to her feet. Just like in the dream, he was eye-level with her pussy. She shivered as his fingers grasped her hips, holding her steady. He leaned forward, slowly, too slowly, and when his mouth connected, taking her clit between his lips, her body bucked.

  She fisted his hair, trying to pull him up—she was too emotional, too raw, the sensation too intense. He resisted, ignoring her urging him up, continuing his delicious onslaught on her clit. Her muscles tensed, body vibrating. When he increased the pressure, sucking her swollen nub with vigor, it was too much. She stopped pulling his hair, smashed her pussy hard against him, and came apart. He moaned into her, sucking on her until her legs quivered and she buckled at the waist.

  He jumped up, grabbed her, steadied her, and never taking his eyes from her, he shucked out of his underwear in record time, pushed her onto the bed, and covered her body with his weight.

  He tried to scoot down, to rain kisses on her breasts, but she didn’t need any more foreplay. She’d had five months of it in addition to the incredible orgasm he’d just given her. What she needed now was him deep inside her. Nothing else mattered but that. Digging fingernails into his shoulders stopped his descent. He looked at her and must have understood, must have seen the urgent need, the begging in her eyes, because he rose to his knees, lifted her butt, and coated the head of his cock with her juices before plunging deep in one thrust.

  For long seconds, they both stopped breathing, frozen in the insane pleasure of what a stupid untruth had denied them for so long. He filled her, fit her just right. Miles recovered first, falling forward, bracing his weight on his forearms, moving in and out of her with strong, deep strokes.

  She squeezed his ass, met him thrust for furious thrust while staring into his sea-green eyes, his soul seemingly bared to her. Sex had never felt so good, so right, so complete. With Miles, all the pieces of the puzzle fit.

  He adjusted his angle so that his pubic bone grazed her ultra-sensitive clit with each forward motion.

  “Harder,” she demanded. Fingers that held his butt now dug in, mercilessly clawed the muscular flesh, urging him deeper, faster. He obliged, frenzied, face contorted in pleasure, and she was certain her expression mirro
red his.

  Every nerve in her body zinged, her blood thrumming in her veins, heart racing as she neared the edge. At the end of his next thrust, he pushed deep, ground hard against her, pushing her over the threshold. She cried out, “Miles…fuck…yes…” Her body convulsed as wave after wave of bliss washed over her, pussy muscles clenching around his hardness until her body exploded in sheer ecstasy.

  His arm muscles corded, back bowing. “I can’t…Oh god, Gina,” he gritted out as he pulled from her body.

  She grabbed his juice-slicked cock and stroked as his semen coated her stomach. Watching his pleasure dazed her. It was the sexiest sight she’d ever seen. He trembled, a vein throbbing visibly in his neck as she milked every last drop from him.

  He reached over, grabbed his shirt from the floor, quickly cleaning her stomach before collapsing and wrapping her in his arms.

  They clung to each other, hearts pounding, neither ready to let the other go. Let go. Such a foreign thought now. He’d lied, he’d deceived, but it hadn’t been out of malice or bad intentions. Hell, was she even angry anymore? If he hadn’t done what he’d done, she’d never have let him get close to her and she’d never have experienced the happiness of their time together. Never would have experienced the ecstasy she’d only ever felt while in his arms.

  *

  They lay there silent except for the sound of their breaths, which had finally calmed. There was so much to say, but he feared speaking, feared breaking the calm, the contentedness, the sheer joy he felt at that moment. If he could keep her tucked close to his body like this forever, it wouldn’t be long enough.

  Even after the incredible sex, he couldn’t believe she’d desired him so much—as much as he’d desired her. When she’d first pressed her lips to his, he’d been shocked, elated. Sinking into her, losing himself inside her had been the most incredible pleasure he’d ever known.