The Innocent Liar (11 page)

Chapter Twenty

E
li snatched his jeans off the side of the bathtub where he’d abandoned them and grabbed the wallet from the pocket before discarding the pants again. He was so hard he was almost afraid to let Fiona touch him, but God he was ready for her touch. When he caught sight of himself in the mirror, he stilled, and he looked. His lips were still glistening, and he touched the lower one, remembering what it felt like to have that warm, wet skin against his mouth. Her taste had driven him mad, her scent so perfect and arousing, but it was her clenching muscles that tightened around his fingers with every thrust that had made it a fight not to simply pull his shorts down and fuck her right then and there.

He took a deep breath as he focused on his mouth in the mirror, and then he licked the last of her come from his lips and turned for the door. She was curled up on her side, waiting for him to return, and as he stepped back into the room, she stretched out beautifully. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a more stunning figure—so perfectly curved and tight. Part of him thought it might just be her; he had to admit she was just as captivating with clothes on as without. The bedside lamp was still on, and when he dropped his running shorts to the floor, she pushed herself up on her hip as her eyes zoned in on his cock. He smirked, but she was far too busy looking elsewhere to see the expression on his face.

He’d grabbed the wallet for a reason, and as he fished the emergency condom out of the inside, he watched her. She was licking her lips. Her expression was this odd combination of fascination and terror. The wrinkle in her brow was definitely fear, but the set of her jaw and the way her tongue seemed to be frozen between her teeth was definitely desire.

“Gee, Flopsy, it’s just a penis.” Her eyes flashed to his, but she didn’t seem capable of humor at the moment. He flicked the condom off the tip of his finger like a cigarette toward her. Her focus shifted back down to his dick, and the condom hit her smack in the middle of the forehead. He couldn’t stop his laugh when the packet bounced off her forehead and landed on the bed in front of her, and her eyes bulged for a second as she realized what happened. He approached the nightstand as she looked sheepishly up to him. She picked up the condom as he discarded his wallet. He turned the light out, leaving them in near darkness.

The snow was still coming down, and the vibrant clean white was picking up what little light there was and shining through the window in a dark bluish haze. He could see her surprisingly well, and as he climbed onto the bed beside her, her hands found his thighs. He leaned down to her mouth, kissing her quickly before he let her take the lead. Her hands trailed slowly up the tops of his thighs and left his arousal pulsing against his stomach. He saw her shadow lean down to him and he held his breath, waiting for the warm, wet suction of her mouth. It was her hand he felt first. She grasped his erection, and then he felt it. Her lips were hot and moist as they passed over the head of his cock.

He hissed as he sucked in a breath of air, and then he cussed…and then he cussed some more. He couldn’t seem to stop saying
fuck
every time she pulled more of him into her mouth, and when her hand tightened around him, he uttered the only name he knew to call her. It wasn’t her real name though, and he wanted so much to know who she was in that moment he almost begged. Instead of begging, he cussed some more. She sank as far along his length as she could, and then she pulled up, letting her lips trail tightly across the sensitive skin. She set a mesmerizing pace that tested his patience, and after a minute of pure heaven, he stopped her.

“You better get that condom on me quick, before I decide I don’t give a shit if you get pregnant.”

He pushed her back to the bed as she fumbled with the condom wrapper, and then he was forcing her legs out wide, threatening to enter her if she didn’t hurry. He slid the length of his erection between the lips of her vagina, and he very nearly caved and pushed it into her when he passed over her entry. She whimpered as she felt it, and then he pulled back, letting her slide the condom over the head of his dick. She rolled it down his length, and he practically had his dick inside her by the time she pulled her hands free. He pushed, feeling himself sinking into the most incredible warm grip. She squeezed around his shaft, and he nudged deeper. The sensation of her body giving way as he pushed deeper and deeper was incredible, and when he was seated at her core, she cried out quietly against his shoulder as a groan escaped him. She was tight—perfectly tight, and her muscles were strong and desperate as they held onto him.

When he eased back, it was only for a moment before he thrust to her depths again, swiftly and harshly driving into her body. He started rolling his hips between her legs then, plunging and retreating, filling her and then leaving her again and again. She was panting, and he could feel her warm breath on his lips. He was so right to think missionary position in the dark could be amazing with her. This was what he needed. To feel her breath against his lips. To kiss her when he wanted to. To feel the inside of her thighs along his hips as he started pistoning into her body.

He kissed her as he plunged, and when his speed quickened, and he started pounding, his mouth found her shoulder, biting into her gently as his hips bucked. Her legs wrapped around him, and her hips lifted from the bed as he fucked her hard. He gripped one of the spindles of the wooden bed, pulling himself into her with a jolting force. She was groaning and whimpering as her body was pushed and invaded and consumed by him, and he knew the second she came when her muscles started trembling and clenching around him, spasming as he continued to plow into her.

It was two deep and furious penetrations after she fell apart that he followed, and as he gripped the spindle, pulling as hard as he could to plunge as deep as she could take, he snapped the wood. It didn’t much matter in that moment because he was far too busy being consumed by his orgasm as he came inside her. It took entirely too long for his hips to slow to a gentle rocking motion, and when he was easing slowly in and out of her again, he leaned to her lips, kissing them.

He left her for only a moment to dispose of the condom, and she ended up in his arms after that. He stared out at the dark blue sky as he tried to imagine who she might be. What if who she was, wasn’t something he could handle? What if the life she lived could never accommodate a man like him? It was an uneasy feeling, to say nothing of the utter fear he felt at the idea of losing her. He wanted to keep her. He needed to keep her. She made him want to be better than what he was, and he wasn’t at all sure he’d ever felt that—at least not in any romantic capacity.

He kissed her forehead, and she murmured against his chest, and then he shut his eyes.

Eli woke before her the next morning. The sun was shining through the bedroom window, and the light was shimmering off Fiona’s dark, silky hair. He watched her for a minute. Her lips were so pink they just begged to be kissed. She was naked, and in this perfect light, all he could do was study her. He brushed the pad of his thumb over her nipple, and she mewled quietly in her sleep as her body wriggled. When he sat up on the side of the bed, he caught sight of the headboard or, more specifically, the broken spindle.

“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath. That was certainly a first. He pulled the two halves from their anchors in the horizontal frame of the bed, and he studied it for a moment. The spindle he could make in an hour, but the headboard would have to be completely unassembled in order to correctly insert it, and that was if he could unassemble the headboard without breaking any of the other joints and seams. He gave up worrying about it for the time being and started coffee instead.

Fiona found him shortly after that, again dressed in his T-shirt. He was still walking around naked, and as he was turning from her, he caught her lips lifting at the sight of him. She poured herself some coffee, and he wrapped his arms around her.

“Good morning, Freckles.” He kissed the side of her neck.

“Finally something that doesn’t sound like an animal’s name.”

“I had a beagle named Freckles growing up.” He kissed her again and then grabbed a coffee cup of his own.

“You give
pet name
a whole new meaning.” She smirked.

“Now, who’s to blame for that?” He smirked right back.

“You are. I gave you a name. You simply refuse to use it.”

“Your completely made up name sucks. Now come take a shower with me. I’d like to enjoy this morning before I have to tell the owner of this cabin I broke a rather expensive piece of his furniture. One I can’t easily fix by the by.” He pulled her away to the bathroom with him, coffee mugs in tow.

Chapter Twenty-One

“F
uck.” Eli kept muttering the word as they drove south out of Cody. He was obviously having a hard time coming to terms with something, and she hoped like hell it wasn’t her or what they’d done because she was far too addicted to the way he could make her feel at this point to give it up.

He finally snapped up his cell phone, making a call. “Hi, John. Thanks again for letting Fiona and me stay at your cabin last night. We really appreciate it.” He was silent for a moment. “So, how attached to the bed in that cabin are you?” More silence, and she finally understood his unease. “You wouldn’t mind if I replaced it then with a new one from my collection?” He glanced over at her quickly, rolling his eyes. “I might have broken one of the spindles.”

She actually heard the chuckling from the other end of the line, and she glanced out the window at the passing scenery as she stifled her own laugh.

“I’m really sorry. I can fix it, but it’ll take a bit of time, and there’s a good chance I’ll do more harm than good before it’s all said and done. I’ll likely have to rebuild a portion of it once I start taking it apart. It’s certainly worth a rebuild, and I’ll return it once I’m finished, but regardless, I’d like to give you a new one in apology.”

She finally looked back to him, and he was smiling.

“Great. I’ll have one of my men bring over the new one and take away the old one tomorrow. I’ll return it once we’ve repaired it, and then they’re both yours. Thanks again.” He disconnected then, and when he glanced at her, she was smiling. “Shut up.”

It was a long trip back. The roads in Yellowstone were still closed due to the snow, so they were stuck taking the long way around to avoid the mountain passes. She spent the majority of the trip trying to wrap her head around the night before. He was incredibly good at the fucking stuff, and for a man with a seemingly harsh persona, he was also incredibly good at being gentle—and rough, for that matter, in perfect measure. He was also damn impressive to look at. She’d felt a bit like a dope the night before when she realized she couldn’t seem to look away from his cock, and she’d sulked for half a second when he turned the light out. But he’d let her touch and taste, and she’d closed her eyes, just enjoying the feel of him.

He was large—more than large, and his body was even more powerful and fit than she’d initially thought too. Every ounce of him was exceptional. However broken she sometimes thought he might be on the inside, there was nothing at all broken with the outside. He was like this perfect physical specimen of a man who had some major imperfections hidden under his beautiful exterior. She almost liked him more for that. She didn’t wish it on him, but she trusted him a little more for not being perfect, and it made her feel better about not being perfect either.

She’d never wanted someone to see her as much as she did with him. She needed him to see every one of her flaws, every one of her secrets, and she needed him to be okay with it all. Sadly, the first man she wanted to share that with she couldn’t, and even more unfortunate, she actually thought he might be able to be okay with her past. Someday perhaps.

“Tell me about your parents.” She was surprised to hear her own voice. She’d more been thinking about asking than actually intending to say it, but now that the question was out, she watched him, waiting and hoping for a glimpse of who he was.

“My parents are wonderful. My mother, Donna, is a retired music teacher, and my father, Tom, is a private investigator.”

“And how does one become a P.I.? Can’t say I’ve ever known one.”

He chuckled. “You know a bounty hunter, and you think it’s odd my father is a P.I.? He’s been a P.I. since I met him twenty—”

“Met?”

He glanced over at her, his expression completely unreadable. “He’s not my biological father, but he adopted me.”

“You’re adopted?”

“No.” He sighed, and she couldn’t tell if it was annoyance or not. “My mother is my biological mother, she married Tom when I was twelve. He adopted me.”

“So, your real father gave up his legal rights to you.” She felt she was treading on thin ice, and the cool look on his face confirmed it.

“Tom
is
my real father. My biological father died when I was ten, and frankly, the man had no business being a parent—being alive for that matter.”

She knew she’d stepped over a line then. His jaw was tense, and his hands gripped the steering wheel harshly.

“What of you?” He glanced at her quickly, but his expression wasn’t terribly sincere. “Let me guess, I’m not allowed to ask?” He didn’t bother looking at her when he said that last part.

“My mother is great. For the most part it’s always been just the two of us. I haven’t seen her for a while though.”

“What of your real father?”

She looked at him for a moment, stunned. She wasn’t sure why it caught her off guard that he was asking about her real father, but it did. “Umm. He only re-entered my life five years ago. I like him, love him actually, very much, but we’re still…rebuilding a relationship. It’s hard when someone’s been absent from your life for so long.”

“And where do they live?”

She couldn’t answer this question, and she hated it. She shook her head subtly, and he caught it. “Midwest.”

“Let me guess, Kansas City. Isn’t that where you
said
you were from?”

“Maybe it’s the truth.”

“Or maybe it’s another lie. Who could possibly know with you?”

Her face fell, and her mood did too. She hated being the liar. She wasn’t one, never had been if she could help it. That’s not at all how she’d wanted the conversation to go, but she knew he wasn’t any happier than she was now, and she had her delving nosy self to thank for it.

“I don’t like lying to you.” Her voice was soft, and when she glanced to him, he looked at her quickly before returning his eyes to the road.

“Need to know, right? I know the routine.” However much he may understand it, he very obviously didn’t like it.

He said next to nothing for the remaining hour and a half of their trip, and when they finally pulled up at three thirty in the afternoon, she was miserable. She climbed out of his SUV, heading toward the door without a word to him, and when he caught her by the arm as she passed by him, she stilled. She looked up to him, and he squeezed gently on her arm. She turned to him, and his hand released its grip, dropping down to her hand and intertwining their fingers. He watched her for a moment, and she could tell he was trying to decide what he wanted to say.

He didn’t get a chance. The door to the shop suddenly opened, and Jake stepped out with a bag of garbage in his hand. He took in the sight of them, and she instantly dropped Eli’s hand before she could stop herself.

“Trying to get a jump start on the cleaning. Didn’t want you to come home to a mess and be here all night.” He looked stunned.

“Thanks, Jake.” Eli’s words sounded strained.

So did Jake’s answer. “I was talking to Fiona.”

Jake walked away then, and Fiona walked inside, leaving Eli standing in the middle of the sidewalk. He didn’t follow her in, and after fifteen minutes of chatting with Mike and Aaron, the phone on the workshop floor rang. Mike snatched it up quickly. He said little, and when he hung up, he looked back to them.

“Eli ran down to the showroom, but he said lock up for the night. We’re free to go.”

Jake said nothing to Fiona as he grabbed his coat and keys, and soon they were gone, and she was alone. She spent the next few hours cleaning, and by the time she made it up to her loft, she was exhausted and conflicted. Eli had never returned. His SUV had been gone from the curb for hours. The man was one mixed signal after another, and she didn’t like half of the signals he gave her, but it really didn’t matter. He did what he wanted when he wanted, and there was little that stopped him; she’d figured that much out to say the least.

By the next day at lunchtime, Fiona had walked to her door ten times, intending to go find Eli and give him a piece of her mind, but she’d not once managed to actually make it out her door. She didn’t want to fight with him, and she didn’t want to get upset with him either. If there was an argument to be had, he likely wouldn’t be one to back down, and sadly, she really wasn’t either.

When there was a knock on her door at noon, she stared at it for a moment, contemplating staying put on the couch. Ignoring him would do little but irritate him. Eventually she growled and stood, throwing the blanket to the seat behind her. She marched to the door, already gearing up for the fight, and when she pulled it open, Eli was glaring just as much as she knew she was.

He walked by her without waiting for an invitation, and she spun to him, crossing her arms on her chest. “What?” Her tone said
fuck off
.

“I’d have thought you’d have come down by now,” he muttered.

“I don’t work until three thirty.”

He shook his head in frustration with a scrunched up, annoyed expression that was very reminiscent of a disappointed parent whose child had just done something outlandish. “I’m well aware of your schedule,
Fido
.” He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly while she continued to glare. “Care to tell me why
you’re
upset?”

“Odd you expected me to come down to find you when you couldn’t even manage to say goodbye yesterday and tell me you were leaving. What exactly is it you think I owe
you
?” Her arms were still crossed on her chest.

He ignored her question. “What is going on with you and Jake?”

She threw her hands up in the air, marching past him as she opened her mouth. “Nothing! We’ve already had this—”

“No! What was the excuse you gave him, Fiona, for why you couldn’t become involved with him?” She stared at him, stunned for a moment. “I’m not stupid. The man likes you, and I don’t believe for a moment he hasn’t propositioned you in some way at this point. Do you think it escaped my attention that he was just a bit upset about seeing me touching you yesterday?”

“He’s jealous.”

“No shit! But that wasn’t a man who already knew he was out of medal contention, so tell me!” He snapped the words out as her shoulders jumped.

“I told him I wasn’t in a good position to date right now.”

“Yet you have no problem fucking me.” He let the words sink in. She wasn’t sure what to say. “So, at any time did it occur to you to tell him you just weren’t interested?”

“I didn’t know what was going to happen in Cody, Eli.”

“I see. Keeping your options open.” He stared at her, not letting up. “Regardless of what happened between you and me, it changes nothing with him. You’re either interested or not, and he deserves to know the truth. When you string him along, you make it impossible for him to deal with me. That’s not fair, and it’s dishonest, and I’ll be the one to pay the price.”

“I was trying not to hurt his feelings.”

“Baby, his feelings are fucking hurt! He resents the hell out of me, and frankly, I can’t afford to lose a good employee because you’re toying with him rather than being honest. I’ve got a thing for dishonesty, Fiona, if you haven’t noticed, and it pisses me the hell off that you’re more than willing to sleep with me, but you don’t have the nerve to be honest with him. Should we just go fuck on the workbench in front of him? Hey, then he’d get the picture, right?”

Her face slackened, and she turned toward the kitchen, sinking into one of the chairs. He was right. How the fuck had Mr. Emotional Constipation himself figured this one out? She’d always struggled with letting people down. Should she really be surprised she was doing it to a man who didn’t deserve it now?

“I’m sorry. I just really wanted to be friends with him, but…”

“You need to talk to him.”

She nodded.

“What happens between us is our business and no one else’s,” he said. “I’m not suggesting you tell him anything about us. But if you’re not interested, then tell him. And if you are interested, then tell me.”

“I’m not interested. I’ve already told you that.”

“Funny you’ve not told him.”

She looked at the tabletop as he sat catty-corner from her at the end of the table. When she peered up at him, his head was cocked to the side, watching her.

“Are you hungry?” It sounded stupid given the conversation, but she was grasping for some way to change the mood.

He smiled a rather devilish smile, and when he reached for her leg, she held her breath. Apparently, he was more than ready to change the mood too. He slowly moved his hand up her thigh to her crotch, and when he squeezed her through her pajama pants, he leaned to her ear. “Ravenous.” He nipped her earlobe, and she yelped.

“Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Lunch break. I have an appointment at one. No time to eat you sadly, but I do intend to fuck you. Come with me.” He stood, taking her hand and pulling her toward her bed, or his bed depending on how one might look at it. When she reached the side of the bed, he stepped behind her, slipping his hands up under the hem of her T-shirt and stripping it off over her head. He knelt behind her, peeling her flannel pants down over her bottom. He slid her underwear down next, and as he bit into one of her cheeks, she groaned. His bite was controlled, and he held the pressure only as long as she could handle before releasing her skin and licking over it.

She felt his fingers trace over the initials imprinted in her upper right buttock, and her intense desire suddenly paused. Her eyes stared deadpan out the window. She didn’t need this reminder right now, and when he stood behind her, his fingers still trailed over the raised skin. He nuzzled his lips against the top of her shoulder, and his free hand clasped the side of her waist.

“How was it made?”

She had no reason to hide this, but it didn’t mean she wanted to discuss this either. “A knife.” He took a deep shuddering breath against her skin, and the hand he held on her hip trailed around to her stomach, splaying out over her lower belly and pulling her back into his body.