Page 69 of Every Silent Lie

“Hi.”

“I just texted you,” Lynette says to Dec, just as his phone dings.

He opens the message. Nods. “Got it.

“I’ll leave you in peace. See you in the morning.”

“Thanks, Lynette.”

“Nice to meet you, Camryn,” She gives me another one of those genuine, warm smiles, and I expect her to collect her coat, maybe a bag, and leave via the front door, but she gathers nothing and disappears up the sweeping staircase to the left.

“You too,” I murmur.

“Housekeeper. In case you were wondering.”

“You know I was wondering.”

“And she lives here.” He removes his coat and hangs it on a nearby coat stand. “In case you were wondering.”

“She lives here?”

“She has the top floor.” Dec tucks his fingers into the collar of my coat, brushing my skin, and eases it off my shoulders. “I’ll give you a tour later,” he whispers across my nape. My mind empties, my eyes close in bliss, and my bones turn to jelly, making me collapse against his chest as he drags his lips up to my ear. “Walk.” His palm spreads across my stomach as he encourages me forward, forcing me to open my eyes. The whole staircase comes into view, circling up, a chandelier suspending from the very top of the house, cascading down the middle of the wide spiralling stairs. I fleetingly admire it as I take the steps, one unsteady foot at a time, Dec pressed into my back. My heart’s beating so hard, not in anticipation, but with nerves. I can’t seem to regulate my breathing, can’t control my shakes. What the hell is wrong with me?

I don’t fuck for the sake of fucking.

It means something.

Oh God.

We reach the top and Dec steers me to the left toward some double doors, leaning past me to turn the gold knob. “Okay?” he asks, flicking a light on as soon as the doors open.

“Fine.” The bedroom comes into view, his bedroom, and my soles sink into the super-soft carpet. I have only a second to take in the cosy space before Dec turns me to face him.

“Then why are you shaking?”

My exhale is long, and he nods, telling me he understands. I screw men. That’s it. Take what I want and leave, not giving them a second thought again, moving on to the next man that offers a brief, woeful repose from my heartbreak. “If I kiss you here,” he murmurs, dipping and resting his lips on my neck, “are you less nervous?”

I suppress my broken moan, my head rolling, as he kisses up to my jaw.

“That sounds like a yes.”

I nod, speech evading me.

“And here?” he asks quietly, pressing his lips onto the side of my mouth.

Another nod, my insides aching for more.

“What about here?” I don’t feel his lips anywhere, so I open my eyes, and the moment I do, I’m looking into his shining gaze. He slides a hand onto my arse and tugs me close, then drops a kiss on my lips. My hands fly up to his hair and fist handfuls, opening up to him, meeting his tongue in the middle.

“That’s a definite yes.” He starts walking me backward, owning my mouth, truly kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before. It’s soft, it’s slow, it’s measured and purposeful. My nerves disappear as if they were never there, every part of me drowning in him. I feel his hands reach round my back for the zip of my dress, and he smoothly draws it down my spine, our kiss never faltering. My shoulder blades pull in, my arms unhooking from around his neck to allow him to get my dress off. I inhale when I feel it hit the floor around my feet. “Okay?” he murmurs again, constantly checking in, grazing a palm down my side to my hip. He just needs to keep kissing me. Never stop kissing me. “Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” I swallow and take my fingers to his shirt buttons, starting at the top, slowly exposing his chest as he watches me. I keep my eyes on my task, and as soon as I undo the last one, I take a moment to admire the sliver of skin before slipping my palms onto his shoulders to push it off.

His hands fly up and grab my wrists, bringing my eyes to his. “Let me,” he says, stepping back, effectively giving me the best view. And him of me. It’s too bright in here—I’m used to a hazy darkness, just enough light to see what I’m doing.

My eyes naturally go to the table lamps, feeling uncomfortable in my semi-nakedness. “The lights stay on,” Dec says, his voice gruff with lust. “You don’t get to hide from me, Camryn.”

I shoot my eyes to his and hold my breath as he rolls his shoulders and shrugs out of his white shirt, teasingly slowly, and yet his face remains serious, eyes full of promises I hope he can keep. His chest makes me blink hard. The ravines between each muscle are dark, well-trimmed dark hair dusting his pecs. My mouth waters, my eyes following the trail from his belly button until it disappears past the waist of his trousers.