Twisted Lies 2 (12 page)

“I make you uneasy,” he stated
matter-of-factly.

I opened my eyes.
Hell yes.
“Not even
close,” I lied.

He was the only man I’d met who could make
me jumpy, like some high school virgin, and I didn’t know why. I
knew men. I collected them like trophies and threw them away, but
McKay wasn’t a man I could play with like a Ken doll and toss
aside. He was the motherfucking rugged and raw real deal. I
couldn’t manipulate him with the flutter of my eyelashes, and this
made me fucking uncomfortable.

He gave me a calculating look. “Come here.”
He kept his voice low and soft but left no room to doubt that he’d
issued a command.

I placed my fingers on my hips. “I’m not a
dog. Don’t bark at me like that.”

McKay watched me with those devastating gray
eyes, his expression giving away nothing. “If you’re scared, it’s
understandable.” He widened his stance. “But I don’t bite.”

An image of me stripped down with him
nipping and biting my inner thighs flashed through my head. He
smiled as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.

“Unless you enjoy getting bitten.” His lips
twisted into a smirk. “Then I’m so down with that, darling.”

Between clenched teeth, I said, “Why does
everything that comes out of your mouth sound so scandalous and
dirty?” I bit my bottom lip. “You’re nothing like those stiff,
smelly old moneybags downstairs.”

He stiffened.

No. He was nothing like them. He was an
enigma I needed to solve in order to get the upper hand. Even after
scouring the Internet for additional information I could use as
leverage against him, I’d found nothing—no photos, no scandals. I’d
only discovered speculation and gossip about his alleged ties to
the criminal world—his billion-dollar empire having been built
using drug-trafficking, money-laundering, prostitution, and a few
other criminally speculated trades. The only bit of information
that did pop up over and over was his ownership of The McKay Club,
a chain of private invite-only clubs that were essentially
playgrounds for the elite, rich, and kinky to indulge in discreet
liaisons to allow all their freaky fantasies to come true.

“Because I’m not. I’ve earned my money the
hard way, darling.”

I scrunched up my nose. “Yes, I’ve heard.
Crime—the unpretty, messy side of Core McKay.”

“I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty,
Sinthia,” he spoke with quiet menace. “That’s the big difference
between me and all those pretty people downstairs. I fucking earned
every dime I have. No one gave me shit. There was no trust fund, no
job at some fucking law firm, no Ivy League college. I grew up on
the streets, and what I am is nothing compared to those elitist
pricks down there. I’m better.” He smiled. “You’re better. And
don’t let that attorney boy, Kyle Fillion, make you think
otherwise.”

Against my better judgment, I walked toward
him. “I don’t care about him or anyone else.” I licked my bottom
lip. “I am who I am. Anyone who can’t accept me can kiss my ass,” I
finished, standing before him.

“And just for the record”—he leaned down,
and his tongue swirled the delicate folds of my ear—“I’d love to
kiss and lick every inch of your beautiful ass.”

Holy shit!
My breath came more
raggedly. My nipples tightened, and warmth pooled between my
thighs. What I wouldn’t give to ride him hard and fast.

He trailed a thick finger across my
collarbone. My heartbeat pounded in my chest. My knees almost
buckled when he pushed down my dress strap. He brushed a hand
against my breast, and my nipples stiffened immediately.

The sensations of his touch, his clean
masculine scent mingling in the crisp air, and the heat emanating
from his body made me heady. He arched down, and his breath
skittered along my shoulder before his tongue traced the scar
running across it. Losing all sense of self-preservation, I reached
up and ran my fingers along the back of his head, sinking my nails
into the silky softness of his hair with my fingers splayed against
his scalp. I closed my eyes, bowing into him. Our embrace was oddly
sensual and too comforting.

This wasn’t right. My eyes opened. Breaking
the surreal moment, I released my grip on his head and swallowed
nervously. Abruptly, his head snapped up and gray eyes locked on to
mine.

Tracing a callous digit over my scar, he
asked, “What happened?”

Feeling a little self-conscious, I gave him
a stiff smile. “I ran into a stalker with a knife. He won round
one. He’s gone. I’m here. So it’s done.” At least I hoped it
was.

McKay frowned as he snaked an arm around my
waist, pulling me flush against him. “If it’s not, let me know. I
can take care of him for you.” The smooth proffer of violence in
his sophisticated tone was a cold reminder that underneath his
expensive tuxedo was a deadly predator.

“Thanks, but I can take care of myself.”

The way he looked at me told me he begged to
differ. I pulled away, straightening my dress. I didn’t need him to
run my personal life. No man was going to come in and save the
day.

“What you think is going to happen between
us will not happen,” I said calmly.

Catching my chin, his gaze bored into mine.
“It already has.”

His words sent a shiver through me, but I
smiled and tried to make light of my surging emotions. “You
wouldn’t know what to do with me, McKay, because I guarantee you,
I’m nothing like any woman you’ve ever met.” I was broken and
cranky, but right now, I was also confused and horny.

I gasped when he wrapped my hair around his
powerful wrist, tugging my head back so our lips almost but not
quite touched.

“You mean a woman who hides behind her pain
with snarls and quips?”

I tried to pull back, but my hair was still
tightly wound about his wrist. He continued to hold me.

“Let me go, McKay.”

He ignored my request and said, “I can see
the pain behind your eyes. Let me help you unlock it.”

It took several moments before I could
compose myself enough to reply. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“Liar. You’re like an open book to me.” He
nipped my bottom lip. “And when you’re ready to get on your knees
and beg me to fuck you hard and dirty, I’m going to read you from
cover to cover.”

In seconds, I’d gone from anger to arousal.
I wanted him to touch and fuck me in ways I’d only dreamt about.
Then I knew. I was no match for him. He would consume me, fuck me,
and spit me out without a backward glance.

He whispered against my lips, “And I have a
lot of dirty little things planned for you, Sinthia.”

My pulse accelerated. My fingers curled and
fisted the fabric of his crisp white shirt. His physical magnetism
was palpable. I swallowed hard, trying to resist the urge to lick
the all-seeing eye tattoo on the side of his neck.

“I want to strip you naked and lay you on my
bed.” There was a pause before he said, “I want to tie your legs
wide open, so I can see your glistening cunt.” His voice was low
and rough when he growled, “I will work you with my tongue until
you’re begging and screaming.”

Oh, damn, my kryptonite—dirty talk.

It was so easy to imagine his tongue lapping
my womanhood with desire that a deep shiver shook my body.

I tried to get away from his grasp, but he
held me close.

“Then I will kiss you.” He cradled the back
of my head, easing my mouth to his. The kiss was slow, methodical,
and scorching hot. He drew my bottom lip into his mouth, sucking
softly, until my insides were undulating with need.

He eased back, and his bright gray eyes
searched my face. He gave me one last swipe of his tongue before he
bit my lower lip and retreated. “Letting you taste yourself on my
lips.”

The truth of McKay’s pull irritated me to no
end. Everything about him was overpowering. His touch, voice, and
mere presence demanded surrender—my surrender.

“I never mix business and sex,” I said with
way more bravado than I actually felt. “It would just create a
wickedly bad scene when I decide to dump your ass.”

With any man, it would, but McKay wouldn’t
give me a second thought. That was the part that made it so
humbling.

“Tough words.” He reached up to run his
fingers over my hair, rubbing a strand between his thumb and
forefinger. “That only confirms that you want to fuck me just as
badly as I want to fuck you.” Steel laced his tone.

“What can I say? I could never resist a man
with a big dick and swagger,” I responded before reluctantly
stepping out of his grip, “until today.”

His face twitched. I pinched back the urge
to caress the light jagged scar running across his eyebrow. At that
moment, I knew McKay would be my undoing. No matter how hard I
fought the inevitable, I would end up right where he wanted—in his
bed.

“I see right through you, McKay, and I have
no interest in being the fuck toy you’ll discard when you get
bored.”

His eyes narrowed. “Maybe you see right
through me because we have a lot in common.” He reached down,
trailing a finger along my scar. “Like the fact that neither one of
us gives a shit about attachments.” He leaned downward, kissing the
scar. “Sounds like a match made in heaven,” he mumbled against my
skin.

I reached to push his head away, but
somehow, my fingers decided to make a home in his thick hair.

In a sadistic way, he was right. He and I
were an ideal match. We didn’t give a shit about relationships or
playing house. We had an itch, and we both needed to scratch it.
But something in the back of my mind warned me that going down this
road with McKay would be disastrous for me emotionally.

From my past mistakes, I’d learned to pay
heed to my inner voice. And this smoldering lust between us was
already out of control. I was playing with fire, and I knew it. He
was a strictly do-not-touch situation, yet I was dancing near the
flames, enjoying the fire as it burned my cheeks.

Any chance of disguising my need was shot to
hell when he trailed his finger across the cleavage displayed by my
low-cut dress. Splaying his hand across my breast, his thumb
flicked open the beaded hook holding my dress closed.

My full breasts spilled out. Immediately, my
hands went to jerk it shut.

“Don’t,” he ordered, his voice low and
rough.

I dropped my hands. Strangely, everything
about this man made me want to please and obey.

A smile curved his lips. My heart skipped a
beat as I tried to remember how to breathe. He covered my breast
with his big hand, moving his palm back and forth over my bare
skin.

Willing my mind to function, I stared up at
him, blinking. “Oh God,” I breathed. My breasts felt swollen.
Desire coiled low in my belly, causing my insides to spasm with
need.

“I can’t wait to fuck you and make you
mine.”

“I can’t do this, McKay.” But I wanted
to.

“You will—sooner rather than later. It’s
inevitable,” McKay said, never taking his eyes off of me for a
second. “And when you do, I’m going balls deep in you.”

I swallowed hard and bit my bottom lip to
hide the emotion that had it trembling. It was too easy to imagine
being naked with him, and my pussy flexed in anticipation.

His nostrils flared, and every muscle in his
body seemed to tense, straining against his shirt. “But only if you
say please.” In one smooth motion, McKay released me. He eased
back, and his steel-gray eyes searched my face.

Still reeling from McKay’s erotic words, I
couldn’t wrap my brain around losing myself to him. My hands shook
while fastening the front of my gown closed.

This was the first time in my life I was
scared to death—not of him, but of how out of control his mere
presence made me feel. The dirty, naughty things he made me want to
do, like fall to my knees and deep-throat him right here in the
open.

Not giving me a chance to recover, he pinned
me under a hard look. “Go, Sinthia, before I change my mind and
order you to get on your knees and suck me dry.” There was hardness
in his soft words, daring me to disobey his order.

I raised my chin in a gesture of defiance
and met his gaze. “Good-bye, McKay,” I muttered under my breath
before turning on my heel. I walked away, ignoring the hole he was
likely boring into my back with his gaze. And like a coward, I
picked up speed and ran off the rooftop.

Ignoring Max’s and Rocco’s knowing stares, I
paced back and forth on the rooftop.

Sinthia Michaels was trouble, and she was
just my type of woman. Now all I could think about was fucking her
so hard she would taste my cock in the back of her throat.

Shit. How the hell did I let it go so
far?

I’d known I was fucked when I watched her
strolling into the gala. Her body moved like a panther—sexy,
determined, and confident. She was tall and voluptuous with curves
that cried out to be caressed. In a matter of minutes, she’d
shattered my control. It had taken every bit of self-restraint not
to back her into a dark corner, pull up her dress, and fuck the
shit out of her.

I’d been obsessed with her bombshell body
since our meeting at my office. She was one of the most stunning
women I’d laid eyes on. I’d memorized her every feature from her
rich tanned skin, bow-shaped full lips, and tilted nose. Her long
hair cascaded around her shoulders like a sheet of fine silk. It
was all confirmation that I was losing sight of my goal to use
Sinthia to get to Bigsby. I’d had to remind myself several times
that she was just a pawn to be used to trap him.

But when she’d swayed onto the rooftop, I’d
seen the fire and determination in her eyes, and my cock had gotten
hard.

Damn. I loved it.

Not many women or men had the nerve to go
toe-to-toe with me. It was a shame Sinthia and I hadn’t met under
different circumstances, but I was playing to win. And Bigsby
Calhoune was my game.