Filthy Gorgeous Lies: Book 1 (3 page)

“Rebekah.” He rubs a hand over his face. “She isn’t my girlfriend.”

“Really?” I say. “Maybe you should tell her that.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I don’t have girlfriends, Lexi. I’m not that kind of man and she knows that.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him what kind of man he is, but I can’t seem to get the words out. Maybe I’m afraid of what he’ll say. It really doesn’t matter anyway. This was all a mistake — a horrible, erotic, mind–blowing mistake.

He dips his head, his mouth hovering dangerously close to mine. I can feel the heat of his breath on my lips, and I’m tempted to take his plump bottom lip between my teeth. Inexplicably, I want to make him bleed, leave my mark. I want to taste his blood on my tongue.

I blink, shocked that I would imagine doing something so… twisted. This isn’t me at all. I’m a glorified waitress from Michigan, for God’s sake. I don’t sleep with strangers, and I certainly don’t fantasize about biting them. What is this guy doing to me?

“I have to go,” I manage to say.

He doesn’t move. “No, you don’t. You can stay right here with me.”

Before I can argue, he dips his head and captures my lips in a hot kiss. His tongue boldly sweeps into my mouth as his free hand slips around my waist. I don’t even try to pull away. I’m drunk with the taste of him. This is all I want right now — his mouth devouring me, his hands on my body. I don’t care how wrong or stupid or reckless it is.

I press my hands to his chest, needing to touch him. He’s all honed muscle and I skim my hands over his chest, soaking in the feel of him. He’s so beautiful, so rough and so unlike the guys I usually date.

His lips never leave mine as he leans back and pulls me onto his lap so I’m straddling him. I thread my fingers through his hair, pulling the dark strands roughly as I rock my hips, grinding against his cock. Even with his pajama bottoms and my panties between us, the friction is amazing. I can’t get enough.

The loud ring of a cell phone fills the room and I freeze.

I glance down at myself, straddling this stranger. What the hell am I doing?

I scramble off Cole and grab my clutch, pulling out my phone.

It’s Michael. The
real
Michael.

Shit. Tossing my phone down, I rush to pull my dress on, leaving it mostly unzipped in the back. I grab my heels, my clutch and bolt for the door.

Cole is off the bed in seconds. In two long strides, he meets me at the door, grabbing my wrist just as I reach out for the handle. I suck in a breath as he pushes me up against the wall, raising one hand above my head, smoothing his free hand around my waist as he presses his lower half against me, pinning me in place.

“Are you running away, Lexi?” he asks.

Licking my bottom lip, I blink up at him.
Am
I running away? Maybe I am. But I don’t know what to think, what to feel. This is just all too much to take in. I need some time to process everything that’s happened.

“I just… I need to go.”

He brushes his thumb across the line of my jaw. “You can’t escape this, Lexi. You can’t run from what we have.”

I shake my head, but deep down, I know what he’s saying is true. It doesn’t matter. I can’t allow myself to give into the temptation that is Cole. He’s far too dangerous for someone like me.

“I have to go,” I say.

“This isn’t over,” he growls. Then leaning in, he nips at my bottom lip and pulls away, opening the door to let me out. “Until we meet again, Miss Anderson. I’ll leave a candle burning in the window for you.”

I stumble into the hallway and blink, dazed by everything that’s happened. It isn’t until I make my way back down to the lobby that it occurs to me — I never gave him my last name.

Avery taps her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe you
mumbled it under your breath or something.”

I think back through my conversation with Cole at the bar, then later in the hotel suite and shake my head. “I’m positive I never mentioned my last name.”

When I’d gotten home, Avery was still awake, watching a Cary Grant movie on TV, and I’d immediately told her everything.

Avery leans back on the couch and takes a bite of her cheese pizza. “Well, someone must have told him,” she says, chewing slowly. “Why don’t you just… ask him?”

I snicker as I pick up the last piece of cold pizza. “Yeah, no. I’m not that curious.”

Except that I actually am. I just don’t have the balls to waltz into his hotel room and start peppering him with questions.

“So the guy gives you the best orgasm of your life and you’re just going to walk away? Wow, that’s tragic.”

“Oh my God, Avery! He’s a complete stranger!” I toss a throw pillow at her, which she dodges with a laugh. “I don’t even know his last name.”

She shrugs. “So. Who cares? What’s wrong with a little anonymous sex? It’d be good for you.”

I blink at her. Is she serious?

“Sex with a stranger would be
good
for me?” I repeat, disbelieving.

“Sure, why not? Seriously, Lexi, you’re twenty–three. Live a little. It’s better than crawling back to Michael.”

Just then, Nick emerges from his bedroom, looking scruffy, his pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips.

“Hey, Nick,” Avery calls out to him. “What’s your opinion on anonymous sex?”

“There’s nothing better than rough, no holds barred, stranger sex,” he says on his way to the kitchen. “Why? You two interested?”

Avery rolls her eyes. “You’re not a stranger, Nick.”

He peeks around the kitchen doorway and lifts a suggestive eyebrow. “I can overlook that if you can.”

“Ugh, gross,” I say. Nick is cute, but I’ve been living with him for far too long to consider him as anything more than a friend. For one thing, I see how many women he brings home on a weekly basis. “I’m not having stranger sex and that’s the end of it.”

Avery throws her crust down into the empty pizza box. “Did you ever call Michael back?”

“No.” I blow out a breath. “I was too focused on getting the hell out of that hotel room. I’ll call him tomorrow. Maybe I can catch him before his flight leaves.”

“I’d wish you luck, but I hate the bastard.” She smiles brightly. “I hope he chokes on his own vomit.”

She’s never met Michael, but just the suggestion that he may have possibly cheated is enough to earn him her eternal contempt. She has some serious hang–ups about loyalty. But every time I ask her about it, she just shrugs and changes the subject.

“Great,” I say, getting up. I toss her my uneaten slice of pizza. I’m not hungry. “I’ll give him your love.”

“Please don’t,” she mutters.

“Shit, it has to be around here somewhere…”

The next morning, I’m just dumping out the contents of my clutch onto the bed when Avery walks into my room, sleep–drenched and irritable.

“If you’re going to freak out, can you please be quieter about it? It’s ten in the morning and you’ve been tearing your room apart for the last fifteen minutes. People are trying to sleep.”

I whirl around to face her, panic clawing at my throat. “Have you seen my cell phone?”

“No,” she replies, drawing the word out in a questioning tone. “Didn’t you have it with you last night?”

My stomach sinks. “That’s the thing, I think I left it in the hotel room last night.”

The last time I saw it, Michael had just called, and I’d flung it on the chair so I could pull my clothes on. I remember grabbing my shoes and my clutch, but I must have left the phone.

“With the sexy stranger?”

“Yes!” I squeak. “What the hell am I going to do?”

With a smile, Avery shrugs. “Well, looks like you’re going to see Mr. Sexy again after all.”

My mind scrambles for a solution. “What if I tell my provider my phone was stolen? I can just get a new one, right?”

Avery snorts. “Sure, if you have two hundred bucks to blow. And I know you don’t. You still owe me fifty from last week.”

I cover my eyes and groan. “I’m such an idiot.”

“I thought you liked this guy. So you see him again.” She shrugs again. “What’s the big deal?”

“You don’t get it, this guy is… intense.” Which is putting it lightly. With just a look, he can make me melt. “If I see him again, he’s going to fuck me. No question.”

And worse, I’ll be begging him to do it.

I’m so screwed. Literally.

“I’m sorry, I can only give you a room key if your name is on the reservation, and I see here it isn’t.” The lady at the hotel reception desk glances up at me apologetically. “Would you like me to call up to the room?”

“No, no,” I say in a rush. “Thank you. I’ll figure something out.”

Any hope I had of sneaking into Cole’s room secretly and snatching my phone back was shot — not that I had high hopes of convincing the receptionist to give me a key anyway. It was a long shot, but I had to try.

Turning toward the bank of elevators, I steel myself for the only other option I have. Go up to room 1403, knock on the door, and pray to God Cole is fully clothed. If he isn’t, there’s no telling what I might do. Or what I might let him do to me.

Pressing the call button, I suck in a tight breath and wait for the elevator to arrive. The elevator on the left dings first and just as I step forward, the doors open and a man steps out, almost colliding with me.

“Oh, sorry,” I murmur, stepping past him.

“Lexi?”

I glance up at the tall, broad shouldered man and my heart stops. I recognize his neat blond hair and blue eyes instantly.

“Michael,” I breathe, stepping out of the elevator. “I was just… going up… to see you.”

He pulls me into a warm hug, his hands gliding down my back before settling on my waist. After long seconds, he pulls back, concern in his eyes. “Is everything okay? I’ve been trying to call you since last night. I was getting worried.”

The worried look on his face makes my chest feel tight. I should have been with
him
last night — instead, I was busy sneaking into the wrong man’s bed. Worse, even after discovering Cole wasn’t Michael, I’d stayed. I’d allowed pleasure to overwhelm me, blotting out all thoughts of Michael.

I flash Michael a tight smile. “Yeah, sorry, I accidentally left my phone at work. The battery is probably dead by now.”

He just nods, though I’m sure he’s asking himself why I don’t just go into work and get it. I’m eager to change the subject before he asks me. “So, um, they changed your room?”

“Yeah, it’s wild. They upgraded me to one of the imperial suites.”

I blink. Those suites cost a couple grand a night, easy. “Wow, really? Why?”

He flashes me that charming, all–American smile. “Clearly the woman at the front desk is hot for me.”

I laugh. I wouldn’t be surprised, actually. “Clearly.”

He steps closer, his blue eyes focusing intently on me. “But she’s not the one I want in that room with me tonight.” He brushes a thumb down my cheek. “I’ve missed you, Lexi.”

I nod and glance down at my feet, unsure how to respond.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I’ve missed him too, but something stops me. Less than twelve hours ago, I was upstairs with another man, grinding against him like a horny teenager. Since last night, all I’ve thought about is Cole — his hands on my body, his tongue stroking me to climax.