The Innocent Liar (22 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Finn

BOOK: The Innocent Liar
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He could do nothing but pant for minutes, and she lay beneath him, gently stroking his back as he let his body calm. She was looking out the window beside them when he finally lifted his head from her shoulder.

“What are you looking at?”

“Our reflection in the window. It was quite an incredible thing to see a few minutes ago.”

He started chuckling quietly, but it stuck in his throat when he saw the teeth marks he’d left on her shoulder. He’d not broken the skin, but it was damn close, and there was little doubt it would leave a bruise. He ran his fingers over the skin as his brow furrowed, and she reached up to his face, stroking her thumb along his cheek.

“Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. That was one of my favorite parts.”

“Being bitten?”

“Listening to you come as you bit into my shoulder. Never knew a person could be so loud with a mouthful of skin.”

He smiled down at her as he eased back to sit on the chaise. She winced and hissed as his cock was pulled from her body. He reached for her, spreading her lips gently. She was red and swollen, and he instantly shook his head as he raked his hands through his hair.

“I’m fine.” She sat up, pulling his face to her and kissing him.

“It was too rough.”

“It was the perfect rough.”

He carried her to bed, leaving her for a minute to get a cold, wet washcloth from the bathroom, and as he held the cool cloth to her rather abused nether parts, he leaned over her, studying her eyes, kissing her gently, and brushing her hair away from her forehead. She may be willing to let him go a little crazy with her body on occasion, and he’d obviously proved he couldn’t handle being without his hands for long before he’d lose his mind, but he still felt guilty.

“Would you stop worrying?”

“I’m not worrying. I’m feeling bad.”

“Well, then, would you stop doing that?”

He sat up, abandoning the wet washcloth on the floor, laying between her legs, and opting to use his mouth instead. She sighed as her head dropped back, and she murmured quietly as his tongue moved slowly and gently over her skin. She didn’t come, and he ignored her clit entirely, letting his tongue dip into her and caress along the sensitive skin surrounding her entry. When her breathing slowed, and her grip on his hand loosened, he crawled back up beside her, pulling her into his arms.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Then I need to tell you something.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

B
rynn’s eyes flashed open, staring at the ceiling high above her for a moment before she looked over to where she’d last seen Eli sleeping. She was maybe still in shock. She was
definitely
still in shock—no maybe about it. When she got up, she dressed quickly. She could hear women gabbing in the kitchen. She’d decided after the night before and now hearing the confirmation of it, that her mom and Donna were fast friends. They also both shared the gift of gab.

She was half-afraid to enter the room in fear she and Eli had kept the house awake last night. Nothing quite as humiliating and inappropriate as that, but she’d caved quickly to Eli’s wants—her wants too, but her wants had limits, such as parents being in the house. His didn’t seem to have any limits whatsoever, not even biting his way through an intense orgasm was enough for him.

As she neared the kitchen, her heart sped for a moment, and when she entered, she was met with the smell of cooking and coffee. The women were busily moving about the kitchen, sipping the fresh brew, and gabbing all at the same time. Their actions were this bizarre kind of well-timed orchestra of movement. Her mother would stir with one hand while talking, and the moment Donna would chime in, her mother would take a sip of coffee, humming her response to something Donna would say. A timer would ding, and her mother would then move to the microwave, still talking with her coffee cup in hand, and Donna was instantly at the stove picking up the stirring where her mother had left off, sipping her own coffee and talking just as animatedly. The conversation flowed smoothly as did the coffee and given the smell of the room, the food promised to be divine too.

“Well, good morning, sweetheart!” Her mother’s eyes shined brightly at her, and Donna turned quickly, smiling. “Did you sleep well?”

Brynn had no idea if that was her mother’s passive aggressive way of saying
stop being a tramp
or not, and she just stared at the woman for a moment, trying to figure it out.

When her mother’s eyes narrowed in confusion at Brynn’s stall, Brynn quickly responded. “Oh, yes. Yes. Yes. Of course. Why wouldn’t I…have? You know…” She was stammering, and she was also acting bizarre and defensive.

Donna and her mother laughed with a confused chuckle that suggested they thought perhaps Brynn was losing her mind, but what it wasn’t, was a knowing chuckle. They were definitely in the dark about her foray into light bondage, nipping, and midnight confessionals.

“Well, okay then. We’re making cinnamon rolls, so you need to get out. The men are in the living room.”

She walked out of the room toward the living room, and when she entered, all three looked up from their focus on the TV.

“Merry Christmas, sunshine.” Sam smiled.

“Merry Christmas.”

She glanced at Eli, and he looked at her quickly before looking away. As she sat in an armchair, she pulled her knees up beside her and studied him. He seemed horrified, and she was instantly sad for him. She thought he understood there was no reason to be nervous, but she was guessing that was little real comfort. His face was sullen and lost, and every time he swallowed, it seemed painful. He seemed to be forever trying to stay ahead of losing his breath, and as she watched, he inhaled one deep breath after another.

She understood. She had only a loose amount of perspective to apply to what he’d confessed to her the night before, but it was enough to understand why this had been such a big hurdle for him. When Brynn let her gaze travel out the window to stare into the distance, his words from the night before came back like a painful fist to the stomach.

“I killed my father.” He’d instantly sucked in a quick breath and waited for her response.

She’d actually held her breath the moment she processed his words. She’d rolled over to face him, and he’d done the same, and it was after another deep breath that he continued.

“He was beating the shit out of my mom. I just pushed. All I wanted was to make him stop. I…I didn’t actually think about the stairs being there. I mean, I saw them, but I just wasn’t thinking about anything but…but stopping him from hitting her one more time. She was already on her knees, trying to stand, and when he pulled his fist back again, I just pushed as hard as I could.”

He’d focused on her neck then. She didn’t actually think he was waiting for a response, though. His brow would flinch, his head would shake slightly, and he’d suck in another quick breath. He was remembering it, and she couldn’t imagine what that had to be like for him.

“I was ten when it happened. I remember what it felt like to push that hard rock of a man. He was tall like I am now, and as a child he seemed like a giant to me. His chest was rock hard, and when I hit it, I remember being disappointed because I knew there was no way I could stop him. But then his body gave way, and he fell.” His voice was distant and quiet. “I still remember the look on his face as he fell backward, clutching at air. The sound…God, it was sickening. Or it is now. Then, I had no frame of reference for what I was hearing. It was bones splintering and breaking, crunching…”

He closed his eyes, and she reached for his cheek, running the palm of her hand down the side of his face.

“They said it was self-defense. It was.” He paused, thinking. “But I also wanted him dead. Didn’t matter if it was self-defense or not, though, because it never made it any easier to close my eyes at night and not see it all over again, hear it again, feel it. For years, I hated even walking near anyone on stairs. I kept thinking about pushing them.” He shook his head as though it had come out wrong or he’d explained it wrong. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’ve never wanted to. But when you have these memories of what it feels like, sometimes you can’t help but imagine it.”

She nodded, and his eyes flashed to hers. He looked so terrified, and she hated it.

“It’s like…standing on a cliff and imagining yourself falling over. You don’t want to fall, but you imagine it anyway, and you panic as you do. For years, I was so terrified I’d hurt someone. I didn’t want to, but I thought about it, and I couldn’t let go…”

His eyes had teared, and hers were already falling as she continued to stroke his cheek and watch him.

“You’re not supposed to know what it feels like to kill someone when you’re ten because it’s not a memory or a feeling you can deal with at that age.”

His nostrils flared and his eyes were red as his tears finally fell. She pulled herself up to his chest, kissing his lips gently. She leaned up, kissing his forehead too, and then the tip of his nose, and he breathed shuttering breaths as her mouth moved over his skin. She held his face, letting her lips brush across his cheek, and then he pulled her mouth back to his as his fingers held firmly to her.

He pulled back after a moment, dashing his tears quickly away. “I would
never
hurt you. I need you to understand that. I need you to believe that.”

“I do.” Her voice had come out as a whisper. Her throat was so tight it hurt to speak, but her heart was breaking. It hurt every part of her body to see his pain. “I do.”

He’d clutched her up tight in his arms then, and she listened silently as his breathing slowed and he fell asleep. She left the lamp light on and watched him. She couldn’t imagine what he’d experienced with his own father, and it was harder still to imagine what the struggle was like to carry around those memories for a lifetime, but there was no part of her that didn’t trust him. She knew what abuse was. She knew it well, and it wasn’t in any part of him.

Now looking at him sitting nervously on the couch, he acted like she’d accused him of being a monster after his confession the night before. He seemed convinced, if she were guessing, that she wasn’t at all okay with his past and what he’d told her about it. That simply wasn’t true, but she didn’t have a clue how to make him understand that, least of all in a room with two other men sitting by.

When he stood, she glanced up at him. “I’ll be back in a little while. I have to do something in my office.” And then he was gone. Tom’s focus followed him for a moment, and he glanced at Brynn. After five minutes, she stood as well. She didn’t want this to be how they spent the day. She was happy he’d told her, yet he seemed to be anything but happy.

She found his office door cracked, and she sneaked up to it, peeking inside. He was tying a ribbon on a bottle of wine, and she recognized it instantly as the one she’d tried to give him at Thanksgiving. She’d abandoned it on his kitchen counter when she’d fled, and she’d assumed it had gone in the garbage just as he said it would. It was just a cheap bottle after all, but seeing the care he put into tying the ribbon on the neck, she’d have thought it was the fifteen hundred dollar bottle she’d opened. The bow was an utter fail. It sat crooked and uneven, but it was the care he took trying.

He sighed pulling the loops of the bow up and trying to make it behave the way he wanted it to. “Well, that looks fucking stupid,” he muttered as he let the loops fall from his fingers, and that’s when she decided enough was enough.

“Doesn’t look stupid at all.”

He turned to her quickly, and she slipped into the room, closing the door behind her. He looked entirely too serious, and she cocked her head to the side as she approached him.

“Never took you as a re-gifter.” She smirked, and he finally smiled. It was weak, hesitant, but it was a start.

“It was more the statement behind the gift.” He let her sit on his lap, and he ran his fingers through her hair as she dropped her head to his shoulder. “I never threw the bottle away, and I wanted you to know that. I couldn’t. I was already so in love with you that night. It killed me finding out you were married. I wanted to be close to you more than I’ve ever wanted to be close to anyone, and when I found that ring, I knew I wasn’t—not the way I wanted to be.”

She lifted her head, looking down into his eyes.

“It’s why I needed you to know about my biological father. I don’t want secrets.”

“Eli…” She suddenly felt guilty. She was the only one holding out, and she pursed her lips trying to figure out some way of acknowledging that.

“You’ll tell me when you’re ready. It’s okay. I’m not fishing for information.” He watched her nod. “Are you really okay with it—what I did, what happened?”

“Yes. Of course, yes.” She studied his eyes closely.

“I heard you and your mom talking last night. I should have told you. It bothered me all evening, but I didn’t say anything. The bathroom in her room has a Jack and Jill bathroom with the office, and I’d come in here to grab a design. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop…but I didn’t walk away either.”

“Eli, I wasn’t happy about what she said—”

“No, I know. It just really made me question whether she was right.” She instantly started shaking her head. “Who knows, maybe she is, but…I love you.” He shrugged his shoulders. “You’re all I want, and I will do whatever I have to do to make this work. If you need time—”

“I don’t—”

“Stop interrupting.” He smacked her butt and smirked. At least he was relaxing. “You’ll have whatever time you need. I want the rest of my life to be with you. I want you here. I want you safe. And I want you happy.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Now—” he smiled sardonically “—can we do something about your atrocious morning breath?” She clapped her hand over her mouth, and he chuckled.

“I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Lovely. I’ll join you.” He stood, depositing her on her feet before pulling her away to his bathroom and into his large master walk-in shower. He held her under the warm water. “Are you still sore?”

“Only a little.”

“I’m sorry. I think I might have gotten carried away. Too much of a control freak to be bound and tormented.”

She laughed.

She ended up on her knees, and he ended up coming in her mouth. He was gentle as he thrust, and he watched her with such interest as he came, filling her mouth with his warm salty flavor. She swallowed as she stood, and his breath lurched as he watched her throat work. He ran his hand down the front of her neck, and then he dropped his head to her shoulder.

“Well, that’s not going to help my morning breath now is it?”

He bit her neck as he squeezed her butt cheeks. “Such a sass.”

The cinnamon rolls were incredible, and Eli was too. For the rest of the day, he smiled. He was happy, and he was at ease. He wasn’t a man who thought he needed an excuse to touch Brynn, and he’d pull her into his lap when he chose or wrap his arms around her whenever he felt like it. His touching was never inappropriate, just affectionate. She started catching her mother smiling at him a lot too. Brianna watched him curiously as though she was exceptionally interested in who he was, and when she’d catch him touching Brynn in some way, she’d smile broadly. Of course, Brynn caught Sam touching Brianna too, and it brought an instant smile to her lips as well.

By the time their two day visit was done, Brynn was quite certain her mother would not be sleeping alone when she returned to Denver, and she was also quite certain her mother liked the love of her daughter’s life.

Brynn cried like a child as her mother hugged her tightly, and her tears didn’t end there. She cried as Sam, Donna, and Tom took their turn too, and as they all trudged out to their two cars, Eli wrapped his arms around her from behind her body and rested his chin on her shoulder.

“You’re going to see her again soon. I promise.”

He carried her back to the bedroom, and as she lay lazily on her stomach on the bed, he rubbed her back, kissed trails across her skin, and nipped gently as he moved. She’d almost fallen asleep when she heard his voice at her ear.

“Move in with me.”

“Doesn’t sound like much of a question when you say it that way.” She murmured, still barely conscious enough to function.

“Control freaks don’t ask.” He chuckled warmly, letting the vibration of his lips tickle her skin. “Please.” That wasn’t a question either. It was a desperate plea.

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