Page 7 of Web of Lies

Riley

The atmosphere around us pulses with energy. The music is deafening, and the air is thick and humid from the dancing crowd. People twist and sway to the rhythm of the booming techno music. Every flash of light across the room reveals glimpses of faces, hands, and moving bodies.

Kyle stands behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist, keeping me close.

His fingers are hooked into the belt loops of my miniskirt as we sway to the beat.

Thrusting my hips back, I grind against his half-hard erection pressing into my ass.

With a playful smile, I throw my head back onto his shoulder and turn to face him.

His attention is on me alone, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans in and presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth.

The pulsating bass vibrates through my body, my heart pounding in rhythm with the beat, and my skin tingling with excitement.

The flashing lights, the heat, and the closeness of sweaty bodies swallow me.

It's chaos, but the kind that makes me feel alive.

Tonight, there's no thinking or worrying—just the music, the moment, and Kyle's touch.

It's messy, loud, and wild —exactly what I need.

A night of pure fun to forget all the trouble I'm in.

The heat of Kyle's minty breath against my ear sends a shiver down my spine.

His booming voice breaks my trance as he talks over the pulsing bass.

"Let's grab something to drink." The thought of something cold sliding down my throat hits me hard, drawing my attention to my dry mouth and tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth.

I lift my head from his shoulder, meet his gaze, and nod.

In the blink of an eye, he releases my waist and laces his fingers with mine.

His grip is firm, and his palm feels warm and damp against mine.

He pushes through the crowd, shielding me with his body, and guides me toward the stairs that lead up to the bar, tucked away in a quieter part of the club.

The music still pounds in the background, but here, we don't have to shout to hear each other.

Kyle guides me to an empty spot at the bar, where I lean against it and rest my weight on my arms. The cool wood of the countertop is pleasantly soothing against my flushed skin.

Meanwhile, Kyle stands beside me, one hand on the counter and the other on the small of my back, just above the waistband of my skirt.

"What do you want?" he asks, looking at me as I scan the menu.

"Rum with Coke. Lots of ice," I say, offering him a smile.

He nods and signals to the bartender, who rushes toward us the moment he spots Kyle.

Since I started seeing him, I've noticed that he is well-known in this scene.

Nearly every bartender and bouncer recognizes him, and they all go out of their way to keep him satisfied.

No one ever causes trouble with him, which works in my favor.

Partying has never felt this effortless or safe.

I'm spoiled not just by Kyle, but by everyone around us.

Orders are always quick, and if I want something stronger to spice up the night, Kyle will get me the best-quality stuff, like the pack of cocaine hidden in his jacket pocket, which he brought just in case.

The bartender puts our drinks in front of us, and Kyle slides him the cash.

I grab my glass, bring the straw to my lips, and take a bigger-than-reasonable sip.

My eyes flutter shut as the cold, fizzy Coke rushes down my throat, cooling my overheated body.

Then comes the distinct burn of the rum, warm and sharp, spreading through my chest.

"Tastes good?" Kyle asks as he raises his beer to his lips.

At the question, I open my eyes and look up at him, take one more sip, then set my glass down. "Very. I didn't realize how badly I needed it until now." I rise to my toes and place a kiss on his cheek. "Thanks."

"Always, Freckles. If I'm out with you, I have to take good care of you." His free hand lifts, brushing a messy strand of hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear. Heat creeps up my neck at the soft gesture, and when I meet his brown eyes, they're already locked on mine.

Leaning in, I press my lips to his, drawing a grunt from Kyle in response.

He slides one arm around my waist and pulls me close as our mouths move together in perfect sync.

His lips are warm and slightly sticky from the beer.

The bass of the club pulses through the floor beneath our feet, matching the rhythm of my heart as it speeds up.

Eventually, Kyle pulls back, his lips barely touching mine. "You kiss me like you're trying to start something," he mutters, his voice rough.

"Maybe I am," I whisper back, my eyes flicking down to his lips and then back to his. "But maybe I just wanted to thank you properly."

He smirks and tilts his head. "Then I should get you something else and see what else I can get as a thank you.

" A chuckle vibrates in my throat as I bury my fingers in the fabric of his shirt.

His hand slides from my back to my ass and grips it firmly as he leans in again, brushing his lips along my jawline.

"You look so fucking sexy tonight," he groans.

"That tiny top barely covers your tits, that skirt riding up your thighs… "

His hot breath tickles my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "You say that every time we go out." I roll my eyes, even though my skin is buzzing at the compliment and the hunger in his voice.

"Because it's true every time," he says. His hand slides lower and pushes beneath the hem of my skirt, tracing the curve of my ass cheek. "You sure know how to drive me crazy."

His lips brush against mine, softer this time, and I'm just about to close the gap when—

"Bennett." A male voice interrupts us, loud enough to be heard over the club's bass-heavy music. Kyle freezes, lets out a frustrated groan, and pulls back to turn toward the source of the call. I follow his gaze and spot a man pushing through the crowd toward us.

"Give me one second, Baby. It's business," Kyle says, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head before he leaves me at the counter and heads toward the man waiting.

They fall into conversation, and I catch a glimpse of the man handing Kyle an envelope, which he quickly puts in the inside pocket of his jacket.

I bring my drink back to my lips and chew on the straw, watching them with furrowed brows.

Kyle always tries to draw a line between me and his job.

Whenever we go out, he makes an effort to hide certain things from me, like not answering most calls.

But moments like this slip through the cracks every now and then.

It's impossible to avoid. While Hunt Corp.’s killers clock out at the end of the night and go home, Kyle doesn't have that luxury.

To him, his work is part of his everyday life.

Suddenly, a tall, close, and unfamiliar presence appears beside me.

"What would it take for you to ditch the guy you're here with and kiss me instead?

" a male voice asks, and I take my eyes off the two of them to find a man standing next to me.

He's about Kyle's height, leaner, and not as muscular, but he obviously spends time at the gym.

A few tattoos peek out from under his sleeves, adding a bit of an edge to his otherwise clean-cut look.

He has a sharp jawline, messy blond hair, and an annoyingly confident smile.

Despite all this, he's cute. If I weren't already here with Kyle, he might have a chance.

"It depends on what you have to offer," I say with a smirk, entertaining the idea, even though there's no way I would give up a night with Kyle for someone I don't know.

Still, it doesn't hurt to keep my options open.

After all, Kyle and I are just friends. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

At the thought, a subtle but sharp ache blooms in my chest. I inhale deeply, trying to force the emotion back down.

"The kind of pleasure you've never experienced before. I know how to satisfy a pretty woman like you," the guy says, and it takes every ounce of self-control I have left not to burst out laughing. They're always so cocky and full of themselves.

I'm about to clap back when—

"Hey." At the sound of Kyle's voice, my head whips around in his direction as he walks toward us.

The other guy turns and raises his eyebrows.

"If you're trying to go after my girl," he says in a low but clear voice, "you'd damn well better be ready to take me on, too.

I don't like being left out of the fun."

The guy laughs uncertainly, shifting under Kyle's stare, clearly unsure whether this is a joke and he should go along or bolt. And honestly, I don't know either.

I furrow my brows at Kyle's suggestion, giving him a quick what the hell look before turning my attention back to the guy who looks at Kyle as if he just suggested something from a fever dream.

"What?" Kyle snorts and cocks his head. "Not into threesomes with another man?

What a shame. You don't know what you're missing.

" His smirk widens as he slowly looks the guy up and down, who clears his throat, shifts his weight from one leg to the other, visibly uncomfortable.

His eyes flick between us as if he's trying to figure out if Kyle is joking or serious.

"Fuck," the guy mutters as he turns around and stomps off. As if nothing had happened, Kyle steps back beside me and leans against the counter. He slides an arm around my waist, grabs his beer, and takes a sip.

"Was that really necessary?" I ask, leaning into the comfort of his presence. As intriguing as the idea of a threesome may be, all I want is a good night with someone familiar where I can just be myself. No expectations, no performance.

"Why?" Kyle shrugs. "I was serious."