Filthy Beautiful Lies Page 14

"Thanks again." I tip the coffee to my lips and watch as he exits the room.

After finishing my coffee, I decide to prepare for Marta’s arrival. I run myself a bubble bath in the extra-large soaker tub and sink into the warmth, letting the hot water strip away my earlier tension.

The basket beside the tub is stocked with everything I could need and more – luxury bath salts, shampoo, conditioner, facial scrub, razors, and body washes in several different scents. I lose myself in the process, lathering my hair and skin and enjoying the peaceful moment and the fragrant scent of herbs enveloping me.

Until I hear the bathroom door open.

I squeak and dive for cover under the bubbles as Drake’s lazy smile lights up his entire face and makes my belly flip.

"Nothing I haven’t already seen, sweetness. Relax. I’m going to grab a shower. Do I need to use another bathroom, or are you cool with this?"

Hmm, let’s see. Am I cool with the fact that I now live with a man who’s seemingly comfortable sharing a bathroom with me while we’re both naked as jaybirds? N-to-the-o. Privacy used to be something I valued. I merely nod.

He twists one of the nobs in the gigantic glass enclosed shower and water pours from the rain-like shower head mounted in the ceiling, then he tugs his shirt off over his head and steps out of the cotton pants he’s wearing. I glimpse a firm, hard ass before slamming my eyes shut. Jesus…does he spend all his free time at the gym?

The urge to glance over at his nude, muscular body is driving me crazy. I can hear the water spraying against the stone shower floor and the sound is maddening. It’s like being told there’s a priceless oil painting hanging on the wall and you’re prohibited to look at it. Basically, it’s torture. I already know what his manhood looks like, but the desire to steal a peak at the rest of him is almost overwhelming. I resist the temptation, but just barely.

I quickly finish my bath, thankful that I’d already washed up before Drake decided to join me. I secure the huge white fluffy towel around my body and exit the bathroom as quickly as I can, leaving a puddle of water on the floor in my wake.

Rather than dressing in my clothes from yesterday, I follow Drake’s lead and put on the clothes he’s laid out for me – another large t-shirt and sweat pants this time, then venture downstairs for a refill on my coffee.

His brothers are both still in the kitchen and Pace is ransacking the fridge while Collins sits at the island, talking on his cell phone and looking perturbed.

"So, golfing today, huh?" I attempt to make small talk.

"You want to join us?" Pace asks.

I look down at my ensemble. "I don’t think I’m dressed for it."

He chuckles. "True. But it’d give the stogy old men at Collins’ country club something to talk about other than their stock performance."

I glance longingly over at the built in coffee machine and then down at my empty cup.

Pace’s easy smile is back. God, that thing’s becoming addictive. "C’mere, beautiful. Let me show you."

He takes the cup from me and sets it down on the tiny platform opening and shows me which buttons to press while muttering to himself about the damn pretentious machine. The options are overwhelming for a simple cup of coffee. I’ve never been good with gadgets and this is like a having a live-in barista. The LED display confirms my order – small coffee and I tap brew on the touch pad. I’m rewarded with the satisfying sound of the coffee beginning to pour into my cup and another one of Pace’s adorable grins.

After adding a splash of milk and a bit of sugar into my coffee, I see Drake enter the kitchen. He’s dressed smartly in dark grey khaki style pants and a white collared shirt that stretches across his muscled chest. Geez, they’re like a polo team – or an advertisement for male cologne. You know, one of those where they’re in white pants with bare feet sailing a yacht, smiling at you with gleaming, straight teeth. Drake’s intense stare that I can feel deep inside me, coupled with Pace’s lopsided smile is, overwhelming.

I set my coffee down on the island with shaking hands as Drake stalks toward me.


Approaching Sophie where she stands near the kitchen island, it’s impossible to keep my eyes from slipping down over her curves. Her nipples have hardened against the t-shirt she’s wearing. My t-shirt. I don’t like that she’s on display in front of my brothers. And Pace needs to keep his damn eyes to himself. If I see that dumbass dopey grin on his face one more time, I’m going to punch it off.

Looking at her, and imagining what’s under that t-shirt, I struggle to keep my thoughts clean. My mind wanders back to last night when she stripped for me.

At the auction when she kept her arms locked over her breasts, I assumed there was something she was hiding. I didn’t think it was anything as grotesque as a third nipple – but I’d thought maybe she had a birthmark, or a mole, or some other imperfection she wanted to keep hidden from the men bidding on her. But there was no such imperfection.

Sophie was fucking delicious. From her full, heavy tits with small peach colored nipples, to her long, toned legs to her bare pussy – which had been quite unexpected. My cock aches just thinking about it. She’d stripped herself bare for me last night. Her courage was almost overwhelming. She thought I was the one who held the power in our little exchange, but I was smart enough to know, without a doubt, it was her.

I stalk closer and her trembling hands place the cup and saucer on the counter, but her eyes remain on mine – just like I’d reminded her last night. I’m glad she doesn’t cower from me, especially not in front of my brothers.

Prev Next
Romance | Vampires | Fantasy | Billionaire | Werewolves | Zombies