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“You weren’t a virgin,” he said, the same silky tone making her wonder if he wasn’t as affected as she was.
“No,” she whimpered, as his fingers moved faster, harder and his mouth dropped lower, to her breasts, teasing one nipple with a flick of his tongue that ran in time with his touch. She was quivering against the glass, a mess of feeling and sensation, a jumble of needs.
“So? Was this your game? Your way out of a job you hate? You don’t want to scrub toilets all your life so you dress this very beautiful body of yours in expensive outfits and hope to hook some rich fool who’ll fund your existence?”
His words were lashing her with painful accusations but his fingers were making it better, wiping away any hurts she’d ever suffered, reminding her of only the pleasures in life, reminding her of bliss and release.
But her brain was shaking Addie, begging her to speak. To say something. A denial, anything, to refute his opinion of her.
“There was only one man before you,” she said, digging her nails into his shoulder as wave after wave of pleasure built within her. “One man, and he was years ago. Years before I met you.”
His eyes flashed with an animalistic sense of ownership but Addie didn’t see it.
Addie was falling apart.
She cried out as a white-hot orgasm began to unfurl in her body, starting in her abdomen and spreading like flashes of lightning to the rest of her body.
He slid his tongue across her breast, from one nipple to the other, and he clamped his teeth down on it, nipping it just hard enough to make her pleasure spike in all the best possible ways.
“You are usually a better liar than this,” he said with dangerously soft tone to his voice.
“I’m not lying,” she whispered, her breath coming in fits and spurts, her brain refusing to cooperate with thought now as pure pleasure swallowed her alive.
“You lie as easily as you breathe,” he contradicted, and pulled away from her, removing his touch, his kiss, his warmth, leaving her quivering and on the brink of exploding. She stared at him in confusion and disbelief, her eyes heavy, a drugging need to be with him overpowering everything else.
“I want you,” she said. “That’s no lie.”
“I’m aware of that.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes holding hers with an intensity that pulsed in the air around them.
“And you want me,” she said bravely, already doubting the proof of what she’d just felt. Of what he’d shown her he wanted.
“Perhaps,” he shrugged his broad shoulders, giving her the impression that he was ‘take it or leave it’ with regards to their intimacy.
“No,” she shook her head. “You can’t call me a liar and then lie yourself.”
“Fine,” he said, his brows drawing closer together. “I want you. But not enough. Not enough to debase myself by sleeping with you while you continue to insist that the charade of our relationship was real.”
She was too flummoxed by pleasure to comprehend. She didn’t immediately understand his meaning.
“You are still trying to perpetuate your lies. Tell me the truth and I’ll take you to bed right now.”
The words hung between them like a challenge, a challenge that Addie felt building around her. Tell him the truth? Tell him the truth?
She ground her teeth together, her expression defiant. “I’ve been telling you the truth. Since that night at the restaurant, I’ve been completely honest with you…”
“Why do you need fifty thousand pounds?” he pushed ruthlessly, swiping the carpet right out from under her feet, leaving her unbalanced and gasping for air.
Out of nowhere, she pictured her mother. Not as she was now, but as she’d been then, before the accident. When her mother had been a respected, middle-class career woman, always in the latest fashions, hosting elegant dinner parties and impressing the neighbours with her ability to run a house, raise a family and hold down a job she loved.
Addie thought of her mother as she’d been and tears cloyed in her throat. That was the woman she had promised to protect, the woman she owed her silence and allegiance to.
She loved Guy, and she wanted, more than anything, for him to believe her. But her mother’s secrets were not Addie’s to share. They never had been.
“It’s personal,” she said with a small shake of her head. Her body was cold, now. Though the sun was shining, she felt as though she’d slipped behind a storm cloud. Belatedly, she realized she was practically naked. Though the bikini offered little protection, she slipped it back into place, her fingers not cooperating as efficiently as she’d have liked.
His expression was sardonic. “And yet you tell me you are being honest with me?”
“I am,” she said, refusing to be cowered by him. “About what matters.”
