Forgotten Truth (The Forgotten Series Book 1) (19 page)

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Authors: Virginia Wine

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BOOK: Forgotten Truth (The Forgotten Series Book 1)
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Once we sit, Clayton moves in. “Pink’s my favorite color, Genevieve.” Clayton admires her dress.

She smiles. “Is it? You can call me Gen.” She scans the crowd for Walker.

“Where is Walker?” I ask Nathan.

“I’m not sure. He got up when Clayton got here.”

Predictable, but I keep that to myself.

“So...” Clayton makes another attempt to get Gen’s attention.

Sipping on her lemon martini, I watch as their eyes meet.

Interesting.

“Are you here with someone, Genevieve?”

Surprised, we all look at Clayton. Everyone is speechless.

“That seems to be code for no?” Clayton smirks.

“Yes, I’m here with someone. Calm down. He’s here somewhere.”

Clayton looks left then right. “Well, now you’re just making shit up, Genevieve.”

He shocks us all, but we can’t look away.

“Are you always like this?” Gen leans in closer. “Call me Gen. Is that too difficult for you to remember?” She rolls her eyes.

“Clearly your boyfriend isn’t spanking you enough to tame that smart mouth of yours.” Clayton’s working her last nerve.

Gen takes in a huge breath, losing patience. “Where is your off button?”

“I can show you.” Clayton looks down at his crotch.

“The next time you have something to say, raise your hand and put it over your mouth.” Gen loses her shit. “You must have driven your parents crazy.”

“No, not at all. I’m not that kind of guy.”

“You’re aware you’re still talking, right?” She flips her hair and avoids looking at Clayton.

And in strolls Walker.

What the hell?
I think.

“Hey, babe.” His arm falls on Gen’s shoulder.

“She can do so much better,” Clayton says to Nathan a little too loudly.

But, honestly, if I had to choose, my money’s on Clayton.

The waitress shows up to ask if we want another round. “Sure. Drinks all around,” says Gen.

“So, what’s your friend’s story?” Clayton tilts his head towards the waitress.

“Are you a sexual predator Clayton?” Gen is delighted with her wit.

“I’ve been called worse.” He laughs.

Walker watches this play out, none of us knowing what to do.

“Who’s up for another dance?” Walker says.

“Not me. I’m going to enjoy being off these four inch heels for a while,” I say.

“Sure,” Gen says, making obvious eye contact with Clayton. She’s no match for this one. Clayton just proved it.

Walker takes her hand and we watch as they disappear into the crowd.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” I say, amused.

“Holy fuck.” Nathan looks at Clayton. “What was that?”

“None of your business,” Clayton says.

“What brings you out tonight?” I genuinely want to know, but he quickly snaps his head to Nathan.

“Why didn’t you tell me Camilla approached you today?” Nathan asks, his tone somewhat accusing. Camellia bragged about her conquest to Clayton while training her.

“I planned on telling you tonight when we were alone,” I say. “But don’t worry. I handled your ex. Hopefully, she’ll stay the hell away from me.”

“Dance,” he commands.

I stand and he places his hand on my lower back and guides me to the wall. He pins me against it. Is he upset? His expression gives nothing away.

I’m backed up against the concrete and the coolness feels good. He slides one finger from my collarbone down the front of my body, not caring who sees this display of sexual dominance. Pressing his erection against me, he licks my neck then softly kisses it and whispers, “I’ll handle Camilla. I’m the one who’s protecting you, understand?”

His words send a thrill straight to my center.

His closeness creates a cloud of confusion. My brain is suffering from lack of oxygen.

“Yes, I understand, but—”

I don’t even get another word out before his lips crash into mine, claiming me in front of the entire place. He moves against me and I blush, knowing I’m being out maneuvered.

“And the sex whisperer strikes again,” I say when we come up for air.

He smiles. “I want to be clear that you’re mine, and I will take care of you in every way.”

“I surrender.”

“Good.”

“We can still talk when we get back to my place,” I say.

“Just talk?”

“Obviously there’s only one answer with your cock pressed against me,” I tease him.

He shakes his head and slowly puts inches between us.

Chapter Seventeen

 

 

 

~Nathan~

 

IN THE MIDST
of the loud music, strangers dancing, and our friends’ chatter, I focus on Bryer. How did I go from being an overbearing testosterone filled prick, to a hopelessly in love pussy who needs to hold her, not just fuck her? It’s like finding an imperfect person who is perfect for me. The word pussy-whipped comes to mind. Why doesn’t that terrify me?

We make it to her apartment, where she changes her outfit. She comes out in boy shorts and a sweatshirt that’s bearing her midriff.

“Jesus, Bryer, we’re supposed to talk now?” I pant.

“Talk first. I just wanted to make sure I had your attention.” She giggles.

“Oh, you have it. You always have it.” I wrestle with the hard-on that just sprang to life. She snuggles into her corner, close enough to touch me, and she reaches for my hand.

“Nathan, I know the Camilla thing is over, but if her behavior was any indication, this isn’t over for her.”

“Rest assured, I plan on handling it. It’s not a competition. She never stood a chance.”

“I’m over it. I trust you.” Finally. There are the powerful words I’ve been longing to hear.

“Trust.” I repeat, wanting to promise her the world.

“I spoke to Gen.” Bryer squirms.

“Okay.” I know what she’s getting at, but Walker is a subject that’s not in my comfort zone.

Still holding hands, we remain connected.

“I found a hypnotist,” she tells me again. “He helped Gen’s mother, and she highly recommends him. His success rate is very high.”

“Okay, so what are you thinking?”

“You should take a look at his website on Monday and make an appointment. I’ll go with you. Let me give you all his information. I think this is the next step, Nathan. The sooner the better.”

“I know. I’m ready, although a small part of me is hesitant.”

“I understand. This is a scary step, but your uncle’s right. We need to figure this out, and I’m with you all the way.” She leans over to kiss me.

“I’ll look into it Monday at work and make the appointment, and, yes, I want you there.”

She nods.

“I was thinking...” I’m a little shaky. I’ve never asked a woman this before.

“Yes?”

I snuggle even closer. “I’d like to invite you to my house tomorrow.”

She’s surprised, since I’ve always come to her place. We’ve never even spoken about my home.

“I would love to.”

Little does she know I vowed a long time ago that no woman would cross that threshold.

“Why now? Is there some big mystery? You’ve never mentioned your place before. It kinda leaves me hangin’.” She smiles.

In one fell swoop, I lift her over my shoulder. “Oh, I’ll leave you hanging all right.”

She dangles upside down, laughing, as I take off for the bedroom.

“You’re such a caveman.”

“Your caveman.” I toss her onto the bed.

 

***

 

I WAKE FIRST
and wonder if I slept through the night, or if I had a nightmare. The not remembering is upsetting.

Bryer’s eyes are closed, so I stare at her beauty in this peaceful moment. Thinking back to last night, I marvel at how incredible making love to her was.
Yes, love
. But those words will wait.

Standing in front of the person I love bearing my soul is a new territory for me, and it comes with a fear I’m not familiar with.

I can’t resist running my fingers through her long blond waves. They’re so soft and wild. She stirs and slowly comes to life.

“Were you trying to kill me last night?” she whispers.

“Me?”

“You get a five star review, but then you rolled over and fell asleep.”

“I didn’t.” I laugh.

“Oh, you most certainly did. Three orgasms later and you were through with me.” She pouts.

“Well, I thought you wanted your own personal sex god to service you wherever and whenever you wanted.”

“I do.” She giggles.

“Oh, baby, you haven’t even seen the best of me yet.” I move onto a more serious subject. “No nightmares?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“That’s a load off my mind.” I let myself breathe in relief.

 

***

 

SUNDAY’S NOT MY
favorite day of the week. I hop on the website Bryer gave me while she’s in the shower. Being psychoanalyzed does not mean I’m officially crazy, does it?

 

***

 

~Bryer~

 

WE’RE ON THE
highway heading west. This part of town is the least developed. In most cases, you can’t see the houses from the street and it’s very secluded compared to where I live.

Though I remain quiet, I’m curious as to why we haven’t been here before. We approach a brick driveway lined with trees.

“Looks like a picture out of a fairy tale,” I say, surprised at how grand it feels.

Nathan grabs my hand and lifts it to his lips and kisses it.

Within seconds I see the brick Tudor style home, which is a far cry from my humble abode. The large circle driveway has a brick fountain in the middle, similar to his father’s.

Within the extravagant entrance, with the grand front door, three fireplaces are prominent, even from outside. There’s a three-car garage to the left and a lush landscape. I’m trying to take it all in.

”My, my. I’m impressed.” I stare at my surroundings while Nathan walks around to get my door.

“Don’t be,” he says, holding out his hand.

I take it, still absorbing the extravagance. I didn’t think for a moment that Nathan had money. I never cared. A rush of panic stirs over Nathan being out of my league.

“Once upon a time there lived a prince,” I say with attitude.

“Well, officially this was my parents’ house, where I grew up. So, don’t be too impressed. It’s a hand-me-down.”

He pulls me to the front door where he punches in a code and the entrance opens. Hardwood floors gleam as the sun seeps in from the grand picture windows, allowing me an expansive view of his
manor
.

Although it possesses a homier feel than I expected a moment ago, it’s still intimidating. Realizing Nathan may be more aristocratic than I thought is daunting. I won’t find any big spools used for coffee tables or stolen street signs in this bachelor pad, that’s for sure.

“Bryer, you’re quiet. I understand if you didn’t anticipate all this, but it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change me.” He looks nervous.

“Yes, it’s quite the burden.” I smile up at him. Rubbing my hand on the beautiful baby grand. “Do you play?” “No, my Mother did, I have memories of us playing together. Right here, my guitar in hand, I was terrible at the time, but she only encouraged me.” he smiles at the memory.

“Come with me. You’ll see my messy things all over the place.”

Once I walk through the entrance way, there are newspapers, his laptop, a glass still on the coffee table, and personal belonging scattered around. I like that it’s not perfect, not sterile.

Reaching for my hand, he brings it to his lips. “I’ve never brought a woman to my home before. I wanted to share it with you. It’s where I grew up. All my memories are here both good and bad.”

My heart just melted a little. “I’m just surprised.” I wave my hand at the vaulted ceiling and expensive everything. “You’ve never brought a woman here?”

“Never.”

“But—”

“But nothing. Never. Let me give you the tour. All of this was here when I was a child, except a few updates I made throughout the years, so it feels like home. I want you to feel at ease here.” Hope glitters in his eyes.

“Whenever I’m with you I feel at home.”

“You do, do you?” He pulls me into his arms. “You hungry? Or should we continue the tour? You look a little pale.”

There’s a twinkle of humor in his eyes. I’m getting all worked up nestled in his arms, but I’m also distracted by my surroundings, he has money, why is this bothering me? He’s the same man who was in my bed all night.

“A tour sounds great.” I sound much more self-assured than I feel. He reaches for my hand and pulls.

“Here’s the kitchen.” He only points, because it’s open to the living area.

“You cook?”

“Yes.” He grins.

“Imagine that.”

“Be careful what you ask for.” He leans in to kiss my cheek. “The dining area is casual.”

He downplays the open floor plan that includes a beautiful Italian dining room table that seats eight.

“There is a workout room of course, but once you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all,” he teases, attempting to lighten the mood and ease me into his life.

After opening the French doors, he gestures for me to step into the most beautiful outdoor living space I have ever seen that includes a fireplace, columns, seating, and another area to entertain.

“I never use this area.” He shrugs.

“It’s exquisite. I’d be out here all the time.” The colors are so vibrant, the smell so intense they awaken my every sense.

“My mother did all the landscaping herself. She loved gardening.”

“How do you keep it up?”

“I have someone maintain it for her,” he says quietly. “Let’s save upstairs for later.”

“Okay, I’m starving. You worked me quite hard last night.”

“I’m flattered.” He laughs and heads for the kitchen, while I remain at the door gazing at this masterpiece. The flowers alone take my breath away, and I can imagine myself on the luxurious two-man lounger, cuddled up with this man, admiring the beautiful surroundings.

“Hey baby,” he shouts to get my attention. “Scrambled or sunny side up?”

“Scrambled.” I close the doors and head in to help. “What can I do?”

“Just sit at the bar and admire the view.” His back is to me, but he turns his head and winks.

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