Page 39 of Liar

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“Of course I’m happy. Hello? Good sex.”

“I know a good sex smile, and then, I know a I’m falling for you smile. You definitely have the latter.”

“I do not. How can I fall for him if I barely know him?”

“That’s a good point.” She shrugged and went back to taking notes.

I opened Kent’s message and responded, letting him know I’d be there soon.

“Oh, hey, before you go, what was the name of that wine you were talking about the other week.”

“It’s a Tempranillo. It’s Kent’s favorite. He said it paired perfectly with steak. I swear he could eat steak every night. That and fettuccini alfredo.”

“That’s right. It was the same night you wore that sexy red lingerie we bought last year.”

“Blue.”

“Blue? I thought it was red?”

“It was, but I ordered another set because blue is Kent’s favorite color, and I wanted to surprise him.”

“Hmm,” Oaklyn leaned back, giving me a narrow-eyed stare, nodding slowly.

“What?”

“So, you don’t know him, but you know his favorite foods and drinks, and favorite color. And all of that was barely prompted. I could only imagine what else you have tucked away.”

“I also know what he tastes like. How he sounds when he comes and his favorite position. On top, because he likes that he can see every part of my body.”

“TMI, Olivia.”

“But that doesn’t mean, I’m falling for him. So what, that I know some of his favorite things. It’s all superficial. It’s not like I know about his family, or his traditions, or his past.”

“But you want to.”

“I—” I stuttered and had to swallow before I could get the denial out. “I do not.”

“Okay.”

Glaring, I shoved my books in my bag and didn’t justify her condescending okay with a response.

“Just admit it,” Oaklyn pushed.

“There’s nothing to admit.”

“Olivia—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I needed to get out of that room. Oaklyn put me under a microscope, and I didn’t want to look that closely at myself. Superficial was safe. And she was wrong. I didn’t want to know if he was a mama’s boy. Or if he had any nieces and nephews. I didn’t want to know what he did for the holidays, so I could imagine me by his side.

I didn’t want any of that.

Repeating the words over and over again on the cab ride over, I tried to reclaim the excitement I had when I first saw his name flash on my screen, but Oaklyn’s words were like an annoying buzz, I couldn’t ignore no matter how hard I tried. By the time I made it to the hotel, I had it mostly under control.

At least, I thought I did until I stepped inside to find Kent’s hands clasped on a beautiful gazelle of a woman’s shoulders, smiling down at her with familiar affection. I almost choked in shock when she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, and he. Freaking. Let. Her.

I schooled my features into a blank mask, prepared to give nothing away if he looked over.

My expression may have been placid, but inside was chaos and turmoil.

I don’t care.

I don’t care if he’s with someone else.

All I care about is what he does to me in that room.

It’s sex. Just like with Aaron.

I don’t care.

But those thoughts were in a losing battle of wanting to know everything. It was like watching him with that woman shined a light on the box I shoved all my feelings in. I always knew it was there, but I put every ounce of fear of being hurt on top of it and denied, denied, denied. But each knowing smile from Oaklyn over the past week chipped away at the lock I kept it all under, and things were spilling out.

Questions I never thought I’d want to ask were bubbling to the surface.

I wanted to demand who the hell that was. I wanted to demand that he never touch another woman besides me. I wanted to demand he was mine always—that I was his. I wanted to demand it all.

Oaklyn’s words wreaked more havoc than ever as I tried to portray calm and cool. I walked right past Kent, not acknowledging him on my way to the elevator. I couldn’t face him right then. I needed a moment’s reprieve to collect my thoughts before he came up.

A hand snuck through the closing doors that slid open to reveal a smiling Kent. I didn’t return the smile.

“Hello, Olivia.” His voice was like smooth honey sliding over my skin, but I refused to reciprocate. I couldn’t—my mind wouldn’t allow it.

“Mr. Kent.”

I watched him reach for me out of the corner of my eye, but I jerked back before he could make contact.

“Who was that?”

He retracted and stuffed his hand in his pockets, facing the door. “A lawyer.”

“You’re awfully affectionate with your lawyer.”

“Olivia.” He sighed like he was tired of dealing with a whiney child.



Tags: Fiona Cole Erotic