Twisted Together (8 page)

My
stomach quivered.
I
belong with him? What?
It
was funny how hard it was to challenge his claim. Licking my lips, I
glanced out the car window at the house again. “You honestly
think they'll be content with believing we're together? That will be
enough?”

Laughing
softly, he squeezed my knee then stepped from the car. “It's
enough. Now come on.”

With
my blood racing, I climbed outside. Something in Kris made me believe
in him. It wasn't exactly a
good
feeling, but right then, it helped stabilize me. He knew these
people. If he said they'd see us and be mollified by Kris's 'claim'
on me, perhaps he was right.

Gravel
crunched under our polished shoes. The door was huge, but modern.
Whoever owned this place had updated it, while keeping the ancient
charm intact. Kris didn't bother to knock, he just pushed his way
inside. I realized he never really
asked
for much, his method was to take what he wanted.

I
swallowed loudly at the thought.

Inside,
the large room was bright with chandeliers and candles. It was
decorated with swans, from ice ones on the food tables, to statues
along the walls. Opulence was the theme, and an easy one to identify.
This event was for the rich, and the rich wanted each person to know
how much richer they were.

Turning
in place, trying to hide in Kris's shadow, I just gawked.
Holy
shit, I think that chocolate fountain costs as much as my debt.
Probably even more!

Some
people looked our way, but most just kept talking, drinks glistening
in manicured hands. Kris linked fingers with mine, pulling my
attention his way. Again, the simple, sweet actions left me stunned.
Leaning low, he whispered into my ear. His voice rolled right to my
center. “Over by the shrimp, that would be my father, Mr.
Lentin.”

Flaring
my nostrils at Kris's scent, I forced my eyes to flick towards the
man he was talking about. Taller than his son, trim and hard on every
edge, Mr. Lentin had the look of a soldier, not an ice cream
monolith.

As
if sensing us, he looked our way.
They
have the same blue eyes.
Eyes
that flashed from me, to his son, then down to our bound hands.

“
Come
on.” Kris guided me forward, making my legs move for me.
Together we approached our target. The way Kris crushed my hand broke
into my foggy anxiety. Looking over, seeing how tight his jaw was, a
realization slammed into me.
He's
actually nervous about this. I've never seen him like that before.

The
crowd around Mr. Lentin simmered, eyeing us as we stopped before
them. “Hey Dad,” Kris said, so casual it felt out of
place for the party. He was smiling, but the edges threatened to
crack.

Tension
boiled between the two men. Everyone clearly sensed it. I tried to
slide my fingers away from Kris, but he held on, locking like a
Chinese finger-trap the more I struggled. This was a war I didn't
want to be in. I hadn't understood the relation Kris had with his
father. In that moment, facing harder blue eyes than the ones
belonging to the man who'd held me down and kissed me, I gleaned it.
I knew now.

And
I was in the middle. I was the secret weapon.

“
Kris,”
Mr. Lentin said, twirling his champagne flute languidly. He hadn't
taken his eyes off of me. “I'm glad you made it. I see you took
so long because you were bringing a... guest.”

My
lungs squeezed. Speaking was impossible. Luckily, Kris didn't seek my
voice, he was more than happy to talk for us both. “This is
Jack, he's not a guest. He's actually my date.” I'd been
expecting the words. Even so, my whole face burned in humiliation.

Mr.
Lentin didn't blink, he just narrowed his in pure scrutiny. I
imagined I was at the gallows, or the very gates of heaven, being
weighed for my sins. Whatever he saw in me, I didn't think he liked
it. “Oh, a date. I see.”

Does
he believe him?

In
a burst of courage, I yanked my hand from Kris and held it out to his
father. “It's nice to meet you, sir.”

No
one moved. The air was so thick, so hot, I wondered how the ice swans
weren't just melting away. Sipping his drink, the older man turned
back to Kris. “We'll talk about this later. Show him around,
let him enjoy himself some.” There was no sweetness in his
tone.

Letting
my hand fall to my side, I wiped the dampness away. My shame just
kept growing.

Kris
spun, hooking his elbow in mine. “There's not much to talk
about, Dad. But I will indulge the part about showing my boyfriend
around. Thanks.”

Stumbling
as I was pulled away, I cast a wary look back at Mr. Lentin. He was
glaring at me, a mask of pure disgust.
He
hates me right off the bat. Is that good or bad?
I
didn't like the feeling, that was for sure. Those eyes burned into me
even when I looked away. I felt them on the back of my skull.

“
Here,”
Kris murmured, pressing a cold glass into my hand. He'd dragged us to
an empty corner near a table of beverages. He wasn't drinking his,
just twisting the steam violently.

Holding
the glass at my side, I watched him curiously. “Did it work?”
I needed to know. If it had all been a waste of effort, what then?
Would Kris decided not to keep his part of our deal, would it be
voided by failure? “Did he think we were—”

“
Shh,”
he snapped, glaring at me over the rim of his champagne. “Not
so loud.” My flinch caused his forehead to smooth. “Just
be careful, is all.” Seeing him so wound up, combined with
apologizing to me in his own way, put me on my toes. Kris stared into
his drink, speaking to it more than me. “He doesn't believe
we're dating.”

“
How
can you tell?” I whispered.

His
smirk was cynical. “I know my father. He took one look at you
and doubted the situation.”

A
cold thought wormed into my veins. “You aren't giving up, are
you?” Kris slid his ice-blue eyes to me, silent. It curdled my
insides, everything falling apart around me. “No, you can't.
Not so easily. We can convince him!”

There,
I saw the glitter in his squint. Finally, he tasted his drink; a deep
gulp. “You're surprising me, Jack. How do you suppose we
convince him?”

I
thought he was actually asking me for advice, until he slid forward
like a wave and gripped my left hip. The burst of fire went to my
toes. His hold was tight, like he could bury his fingers so deep he'd
burrow through my flesh and right into my waiting cock.
He's
fucking with me. He wasn't about to give up.
“Asshole,”
I managed to hiss, unsure what else to say.

Laughing
in the back of his throat, he eased his vice like touch. Blood rushed
back to the indents he'd made, making me tingle with awareness. “So
concerned about our charade failing. Jack, you don't understand me at
all if you expected me to give up.” His wink made my mouth dry.
“I don't often give up on the things I want.”

His
double meaning was clear to me.

“
Anyway,”
he said, finishing his drink and setting it down. “Anyone can
lie and say they're dating. My dad isn't a fool. To make him believe
will take a bit of showing.”

The
gold liquid in my glass became an easy place to focus. Kris kidnapped
my words too easily. “That's what last night was about. You
weren't kidding, you knew we'd need to prove our relationship to
him.”

“
That
wasn't my only goal for last night.” It was a mere hush, but I
heard him. Kris watched me, drew me to him like a black hole. The
drink couldn't keep my attention any longer. Speaking of our
encounter had made my dick lurch in my boxers.

Remember
to fight, I have to keep myself grounded! It's just an act, just...

Just
an act.

“
There's
dancing upstairs,” he said, brushing the outside of my wrist
and nearly making me drop my drink. “Come on, let's go make
some gossip happen.”

My
tongue was thick and heavy. Chugging the champagne in one swallow, I
placed the glass down. “Alright.”
Dancing,
I can do dancing.
“But
I should warn you, I've only ever danced in clubs.”

Kris's
grin was all teeth. “I'll lead you, don't worry.”

Together
we crossed the room, climbing the wine-colored stairs. The balcony
surrounded the main room, giving a wonderful view of all the glamor.
I didn't hear the music until we crossed through two new doors, the
vision inside expanding my brain's idea of how many people could fit
in one building.

Downstairs
had been like a waiting room, despite the food and expense. Here,
with an actual band playing violins and a number of fancy
instruments, was a party. It was a cavern of red and gold, wall to
wall men and women spinning with laughter.

“
Wait,”
I said, tugging at the back of his vest, “how will your dad
even see us up here?”

“
He
doesn't need to.” Kris clasped my wrist, guiding me deeper into
the masses. “Everyone will tell him for us. Trust me.”

Trust
him?
As
if that was so easy, or even possible. I needed to remember the
promise I'd made to myself.

In
the center of swaying bodies, Kris hooked an arm around my waist. A
masculine motion that instantly sent red flags to my brain. It was
the way a man held a woman, and I was no woman. Kris didn't act like
he expected me to fight, he was busy scooping my hand up to set it on
his shoulder. I felt like a doll being posed.

Parting
my lips to complain, I instead felt air fly free as he spun me in a
circle. I'd seen his muscles (the reminder of his bare chest last
night set my cheeks red) but I didn't know how powerful he really
was. He moved me with ease, never failing to guide my body in a
series of circles out onto the floor.

Part
of me thought I should dig my heels in, give him a hard time.
I'm
letting him manipulate me, but if there was any place for it, isn't
it here?
I
understood his plan. Around us, the crowd would focus. They'd see the
son of Vanilla Pinings swirling with another man. Then, the rumors
would blossom.

Kris
stared at me, a cement wall that locked my knees. He stopped spinning
us, saving me from stumbling. “You move fine,” he
murmured, releasing my hand so he could clutch my waist. The
sensation of him digging into me caused my ribs to strain around my
deep inhale. “All you need is someone to show you the way, and
you flourish, Jack.”

That
brought a scowl to the surface. “And you're eager to be the one
to show me.”