Page 30 of These White Lies

“Definitely trouble,” he mutters, stepping between my legs again.

“If you’re lucky,” I manage to say, though it’s more breath than the sass I intended.

His mouth curves into a slow, devastating smile as he traces the line of my mask with one finger.

“Last chance to run.”

I catch his wrist lightly in my fingers, holding him there.

“Maybe.” I tilt my head up toward him. “Idoneed some fun.”

His hand falls from my mask to my neck, not squeezing, just holding me there.

“Say it again,” he rasps, jaw tight, cheekbones cutting sharper beneath flushed skin, his every muscle strung with need.

“Say what?”

“That you want me to help you remember.”

I look into those burning green eyes, my brain telling me this is a bad idea but my body screaming at me to keep going.

“Make me remember,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “So that I never forget again.”

It’s the most honest I’ve been about anything in a long time, and I don’t know what it is about this man that makes it so frighteningly easy to be myself. To just react and not worry about how he will receive it.

He shoves my dress higher around my waist and groans. “Fucking beautiful.”

One hand traces my hip before his fingers slide between my legs. The movement is slow and deliberate, making me gasp. I can feel how wet I am, how close I am to coming undone just from this.

“I want to take my time with you,” he says against my mouth. “But I don’t know how long we have before someone interrupts us.”

My answer is a moan as his mouth finds my neck, and then trails open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin of my collarbone until I’m shaking in his arms.

He stills, his breath hot against my skin. “Last chance. Once I start, I’m not stopping until I make you forget that asshole who made you doubt yourself.”

My pulse hammers.

“For the love of god,stoptalking,” I manage to say, voice ragged. “And fuck me.”

He nudges my knees wider until I’m completely open to him. “I plan to.”

7

BRADY

4 Years Ago

“Make me remember.”

Fuck.

Something cracks inside me at her words. Not just the consent she’s giving, though in the shadowy world where I’ve been forced to live this last year, it’s something I need to be absolutely sure of. It’s what it hints at underneath.

She’s obviously insecure. Which is fucking insane to me. I don’t know exactly what her ex did, besides the cheating, to make her feel this way, but the vulnerability behind her strong façade is crystal clear when you look in her eyes.

When she said he was in the hall, I had a momentary, irrational urge to fling the door open and beat the shit out of him. This woman is smart and funny, not to mention that even with half her face hidden behind her satin mask, she’s beautiful. I hate some spineless jerk made her doubt it. And I fuckinghatecheaters.

Maybe I should thank him. Because if he had realized how much she was worth, she wouldn’t be here with me tonight.