Page 22 of Lust & Lies

NOELLE

I AWOKE TO THE WARMTH of Aiden’s body pressed against my back and his arm wrapped around me. One hand was cupping my breast possessively while his soft snores filled the room. My lips curved into a smile before I even opened my eyes.

I stared at the far wall, realizing I must’ve turned over at some point, because I remembered falling asleep facing him. Gently, I lifted his hand from my chest and lowered it to the bed, careful not to wake him.

I stayed still for a moment, listening to his breathing, ensuring I hadn’t awakened him, before turning so we were face-to-face again. Strips of sunlight slipped through the blinds, falling across the bed and brushing over his bare shoulder.

He was perfectly still, his face relaxed, lips parted slightly. Those wicked lips. I was tempted to kiss him awake, but decided to let him sleep. After the way he’d licked me into oblivion hours ago, he and those lips deserved some sleep.

He’d licked me like this pussy was the last scoop of ice cream in the ice cream shop. Smiling, I watched him. He looked so peaceful and innocent now after being so filthy earlier. Savage and sweet... Those were the perfect words to describe my husband.

And he wasn’t just being that way with me now. He’d always been that way. Last night, after he came back to bed and I fell asleep in his arms, I had another dream that hadn’t felt like a dream at all. It felt more like a memory.

In it, he’d brought me here to this very country estate. It looked exactly like its picture in the Home and Garden magazine, and I remembered being shocked he’d actually bought it. Shocked that he’d purchased something I’d circled in the magazine.

He’d walked me through each room, revealing every item he’d purchased, which was every item I’d circled. This man had brought them all. For me. Random things I’d selected, like door handles with heart symbols etched into them and pillows with our initials on them.

They were all things I thought were cute or simply cuter than other things on that page. I’d only circled them because he’d kept bringing me magazines, telling me to choose things for our future home.

I hadn’t wanted them, not all of them. Mainly because I never imagined we’d actually get to have the life we’d dreamed of. Yet, I’d enjoyed fantasizing about our life together. While I’d been fantasizing, Aiden had been plotting and planning.

And he’d brought that fantasy to life for me, for us. After the tour, we ended up in the backyard with a blanket spread over the grass. Aiden had prepared a picnic for us. It had been a picture-perfect day.

The sun had sat high in the sky, and the air had smelled like flowers and fresh-cut lawn. We’d sat there for hours, talking about nothing and everything while the breeze blew, causing the edges of the blanket to ruffle.

Aiden’s hand had stayed locked with mine. His eyes focused on me as I talked. I loved the way he gave me his undivided attention, making me feel like I was the most important person in his world at all times.

Every now and then, he’d lift my hand and press a kiss to my knuckles. The way he’d looked at me had made my heart race. Though it had been a dream, the emotional memories had been strong.

Even now, they lingered, leaving me feeling giddy. Aiden Park loved me. It was obvious in the way he talked to me... then and now. In the way he looked at me, smiled at me... both then and now.

I felt loved in his presence, loved because of his presence. And I’d gotten all of that from a dream. Reality wasn’t any different. This man had loved me for a long time. Had always wanted what was best for me.

Even now, with my memory gone, he was still loving me sweetly, cherishing me wholeheartedly, being patient with me. He was my dream guy, literally. I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead as he slept.

My stomach chose that moment to growl. Since he’d cooked dinner for us yesterday, I would make breakfast for him. Breakfast in bed sounded nice, and it would give me a chance to show this sweet man that I appreciated him.

I mean, sure, he’d told me he did most of the cooking and hinted that I might be a kitchen disaster, but breakfast couldn’t be that hard. Right? I could handle toast, scrambled eggs, and grits. Maybe oatmeal.

Something in me felt certain I could at least pull that off. I eased out of the bed, my body growing cold the instant I was away from his warmth. It didn’t help that I was as naked as the day I was born.

Crossing the room, I moved to my dresser and grabbed a pair of pajamas from the drawer. Panties too. I glanced back to make sure Aiden was still sleeping. He was, his chest rising and falling with each breath, hair mussed from the pillow.

God, he was gorgeous. I stood there for a second, just staring at him, admiring my husband. This feeling, this calmness, this quiet joy, I hoped it never went away. I smiled to myself before tiptoeing out, easing the door shut so I wouldn’t disturb him.

I padded down the hall to the guest room and headed straight for the bathroom. After washing up and brushing my teeth, I slipped into my pajamas. There was no need to get dressed up. It wasn’t like I was leaving the house for anything.

I combed my hair, then styled it into a low ponytail that I braided and then wrapped around itself. After washing my hands, I applied light lip gloss, just to feel a little extra cute as I cooked. I stared at myself in the mirror.

Yup, I looked like a woman who was ready to prepare breakfast for her man, and then wash that breakfast down with her man’s cum. I winked at myself before leaving the bathroom.

The floor was cool under my soles as I headed downstairs, unable to believe that I was really up, getting ready to prepare breakfast for my husband. I couldn’t mess this up. This was my chance to shed the title of Kitchen Disaster.

Or at least downgrade to Little Ms. Kitchen Chaos. That had a better ring to it. The moment I stepped into the kitchen, I froze, a sense of dread creeping over me. The refrigerator door stood wide open.

I hadn’t left it like that. Even if Aiden had come down in the middle of the night for something to drink, I knew he wouldn’t have left it open either. Was there someone in the house? A slow ripple of unease worked through me.

Then came a sound from the refrigerator that was definitely not the hum of the motor. Yeah... Someone was in here. My gaze searched the room, looking for something to defend myself with. Found it.

I eased toward the knife block on the counter, keeping my eyes on the fridge door. I stretched my arm out, reaching for my weapon of choice. My fingers wrapped around a handle. Exhaling slowly, I slid the knife free, the quiet scrape of metal against wood unheard by the intruder.

Gripping the handle tightly, I started forward just as the fridge door began to close. I had to act now! Racing forward, I slammed the intruder against the wall, pressing the knife under their jawline, my forearm against their chest to hold them in place.

I stared into the wide, dark eyes of our burglar. If I wanted, I could end them right here, right now. And I could do so without bathing the kitchen in blood. Aiden would never know it had happened.

All it would take was an upward thrust, just beneath the jaw, angled toward the frontal lobe. They’d die in seconds. No blood splatter, no mess to clean up. As for the body, all I’d need was some plastic wrap and a shovel.

It would be a clean, controlled kill. And I’d still have time to make breakfast before Aiden came downstairs. The sound of items hitting the floor pulled me away from my thoughts of blood and death just as a scream rent the air.

Blinking rapidly, I emerged from whatever trance I’d slipped into and stared into the face of a middle-aged Hispanic woman. Wait. Why was our burglar a middle-aged Hispanic woman who looked terrified at the moment?

“Mrs. Park, w-what are you doing?” the woman stuttered.

Mrs. Park? I cocked my head to the side. Oh, me. Right. I was Mrs. Park. Noelle Park. Aiden’s wife. And this woman knew me. But I’d never seen her before. Well, I didn’t remember meeting her.

The sound of footsteps rushing in our direction made me step back from the woman, lowering the knife to my side. What the hell was I doing? The fear and confusion in the woman’s eyes sent guilt pulsing through my veins. Seriously, what the hell was I doing?

“Noe!” Aiden called from behind me.

Before I could turn around, he was at my side, turning me toward him. Dazed and confused, I released the knife, letting it clink to the kitchen floor.

“What happened?” he yelled, gaze moving to the other woman briefly before settling on me again. “Are you okay?”

I wanted to answer, to let him know I was fine. But I kept thinking about what I’d just done and the thoughts that had run through my head along with the plan I’d come up with without a moment of hesitation.

If he’d come a second later, would I have killed her? Of course, not. Right? I mean, I wasn’t a killer. I wasn’t even a violent person. Was I? The question lodged itself in my chest like a splinter, painful and impossible to ignore.

I’d gone from thinking about breakfast to thinking about ending someone’s life in a single heartbeat. No hesitation, no fear, no thought to run to Aiden for help or to call the police. Only cold calculation and thorough plotting.

That wasn’t me. That couldn’t be me. The movie! It had to have been the movie from yesterday. I’d watched people kill with no remorse, kill to survive, kill because if they didn’t, they’d be the one who died.

That movie must’ve stuck with me. I mean, it was the first movie I’d watched since I woke up with amnesia. Yeah, it was the movie that influenced me. That had to be why I’d acted that way and come up with that outlandish plan. Right?

The more I tried to cling to that excuse, the less it felt like the truth. Aiden was still calling my name, asking if I was okay. I stood there, listening to his voice that sounded miles away. I couldn’t reply.

I was trapped in my thoughts, held immobile by my fear. Unable to meet his concerned gaze, I stared at his chest as I tried to understand why I’d done what I’d done. I had no explanation, no idea why I’d reacted in such a way.

But I knew one thing: reactions were instincts honed over time. They didn’t disappear with memory loss. My body remembered things my mind had forgotten. That was why my reaction scared me so damn badly. My pulse pounded in my ears, my mind replaying the scene over and over.

My grip on the knife, the angle of the blade, the exact pressure of my forearm pinning her in place, the plan to get rid of the body afterward.

Every detail I’d come up with had been precise. Too precise. I had no explanation, no idea why I’d reacted in such a way. It was like I’d been someone else for those few seconds. Someone dangerous. Someone I didn’t recognize.

I began trembling, tears welling in my eyes, blurring my vision. My hands fisted at my sides as if I were attempting to hold myself together, trying to force my body to cease shaking. It didn’t work.

“What happened, Dolores?” Aiden yelled.

“I’m not sure, sir. I must’ve scared Mrs. Park,” the woman that I now knew as Dolores said. “I came to prepare breakfast for you both and to meal prep your food for the next three days. But I must’ve startled her. I hadn’t expected her to be in the kitchen.”

“Look at me, Noe,” Aiden insisted, hands moving to my face. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

Blinking rapidly to clear my vision, I raised my gaze to his. The concern in his eyes made the tears fall harder. Before I knew it, I was pressed against him, face resting on his chest, with his arms wrapped tightly around me.

“It’s my fault,” he whispered. “I should’ve told you she would be here this morning. It’s my fault you were frightened, love.”

I tried to speak, but all that emerged was a choked sob. Aiden didn’t say another word to me. Just scooped me up like I weighed nothing and started toward the kitchen door.

Over his shoulder, he called to Dolores, “You’ll be paid double for today.”

“Mr. Park, that’s not necessary,” she said quickly, but he cut her off.

“It’s not up for debate. I’ll take her into the living room while you finish up in here.”

“Yes, sir.”

When we were almost at the door, I tapped his chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, glancing down at me.

I lifted my chin over his shoulder, looking back at Dolores as she crouched to pick up the fallen items off the floor. Items I’d caused her to drop.

“I’m so sorry, Dolores,” I apologized, voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

She looked at me, her expression softening before she gave me a small smile.

“Sweetie, it’s okay. You’ve been through a lot. How about I put a note on the kitchen door when I come to prepare stuff in the future, so you’ll know I’m here?”

I nodded, relief that she wasn’t angry with me and shame at what I’d done to her knotting in my chest.

Her smile widened. “Forget all about what just happened,” she said gently. “It’s not your fault. Okay?”

I nodded again.

“Let Mr. Park take you to rest. I’ll prepare your favorite turkey bacon omelet for you and some chocolate chip pancakes.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling even more guilty for nearly killing such a kind person.

“You’re welcome.”

Aiden continued forward, carrying me from the kitchen. However, I didn’t miss the look he threw over his shoulder at Dolores or the nod he gave. Was that a silent thank you for how she’d handled things?

Or was it something more nefarious? Ugh. Why was I even thinking about that? Clearly, he wasn’t the one I should be worried about. Neither was she. I was. That thought sent a chill over me.

But I couldn’t ignore the facts. My reaction to her was a sign that something was off about me. What if my husband hadn’t been the problem at all? What if he’d never been the one I needed to be wary of or fear? What if the problem had been me all along?

What if my husband was the one who should be afraid, not me?