Truth: A Sinful Series, Book One Read online

  Turning my attention away from my bliss, I look to Sarah. “Get them a table at another club, on us. Pull around a limo and get them on their way. Be discreet. Do it now.” Sarah immediately turns to share my offer, and the girls are appeased. Security begins to escort them out. I would feel guilty for being so manipulative, but my desire for her has literally turned me into a monster. That’s a lie—I’ve always been a monster. Although, I’ve never been so driven to be inside a woman in my life.

  Looking around the room, I spot her by the stairs that lead to the private rooms. My heart starts pounding as the visuals of taking her into one of those rooms invades my mind. My feet start moving before I recognize what I’m doing. I don’t even have a plan. What am I going to say to her? Hey, mind if I tie you up and fuck in front of an audience? I need to get myself together. What the hell has gotten into me? Stopping in my tracks, I run my fingers through my hair, then grip the back of my neck and hang my head low, taking in a slow, deep breath.

  When I look up, I see a sleazy-looking asshole making his way over to her. As he approaches, she smiles politely, but I can tell she wants nothing to do with him. He leans in and whispers something to her. I imagine his breath touching her skin, and when I see her shake her head and take a step back, I get the urge to make him eat his tongue for whatever he just said to her. I look over and motion for security.

  “Do you see that asshole?” He leans in again to her as she scans the space for her group.

  “Yes, sir.” She backs away, holding up her hands to chest level and shaking her head again.

  “Revoke his membership and kick him out. Be discreet and make sure he understands he isn’t welcome back, with whatever means necessary.”

  “Yes, sir.” Nodding his head and cracking his knuckles, my sentinel makes his way toward the man at the same moment those beautiful blue eyes make contact with me. We stand stock-still, held in our gaze. I feel the draw to this woman from where I stand, and I can tell she feels it too. She darts her eyes to the door and then back to me, raising her eyebrows as some kind of challenge. I can’t help it; the corner of my mouth to turn upward into a sly smile. She wants to play. Giving me a wink, she walks toward the doors, and I know I need to act. Refocusing, I start on my original path, weaving through people and making my way to her.

  Outside, I see her hail a cab, still looking around for her friends. I need one sign that I’m not crazy, blinded by my desire for her. The car pulls up and she reaches for the door, looking back over her shoulder. Her hesitation is all that’s needed because she isn’t looking for her friends; she’s looking for me. It’s in that moment that I’m spurred forward, feeling the most incredible sense of urgency for her to stay. Without second-guessing, I reach out as she ducks into the cab, grabbing her elbow and feeling the delicious charge between us. Her head shoots back, and our eyes meet again.

  “Truth or Dare, gorgeous…”

  Time seems to stop; at the least, my breathing does. All my wettest dreams rest on this very moment. The gleam in her eyes says she wants to play, and that’s the beauty of the question. I can see her truth, she wants this, and the dare is a challenge she won’t pass up.

  Pushing back up slowly to standing, she looks at me and then down to her elbow. I wonder if she feels the connection, the vibe, the charge—whatever the fuck anyone wants to call it, we have it. I know she feels it. The moment our eyes locked, I could see everything. I recognize her yearning, the fire and the need to dominate and be dominated but not be controlled. This woman is made for me. I feel dizzy from just touching her elbow, drunk from the haze of our connection. Her eyes bore down to my depths because like recognizes like and we stand lost in each other. I know her answer before it leaves those gorgeous plump lips.

  “Truth,” she whispers. Her voice has a slight rasp in it, making my dick jump. Keeping my eyes locked to her face, I step aside as she turns back to the front doors, breaking our eye contact. Moving my hand to the small of her back, I lead her into my hedonist Church.

  I TRY AND STEADY MY breathing as I follow this gorgeous stranger’s lead. I don’t know why I am so willing to follow him into darkness, but something about him makes me feel curious and alive, and I swear for a moment it was as if I recognized him, like we’d met. My brain is on overload. The attraction is firing between us like tiny firecrackers, gaining momentum with every step. It’s palpable. This is the very last situation I thought I would find myself in tonight. But I swear the heat building between us is crashing like sets of waves, only restrained by our public setting.

  The man is massive. He has to be about six foot four, with broad shoulders and the darkest brown tousled hair, it’s almost black. God and his hands are like mitts; I can feel it take up my lower back and spread heat up my spine. His skin is olive colored, and I can see a hint of a tattoo peeking out from his starched white collar. How much of his body is covered? He looks polished, elegant with a hint of an edge. His face is rugged, and he carries a five-o’clock shadow that showcases his full lips. His eyes are held prisoner by the longest black lashes, but it doesn’t matter because those hazels are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

  The moment he issued that little challenge, disguised as a game, my body responds automatically. Goose bumps riddle my arm, and I feel hyperaware of the heat coming from his hand resting on my lower back. I’ve never experienced a feeling like this, ever. It’s so foreign but very welcome.

  Whatever the hell I’m feeling, I know that it started earlier; I could feel a shift when I was standing with the girls. It was electric as if someone turned on a light switch inside of me. I felt someone’s eyes on me, watching me while I previewed all the sin. A small part of me questioned my sanity, but now I know that he was actually watching me. How am I not skeeved out? The most shocking revelation is no, I am not skeeved out; I feel hungry for his attention. What the fuck is happening to me? What the fuck am I doing? I have to bite down on my lip to stop any nervous laughter from escaping because I refuse to turn back now. I’m doing whatever the fuck I want. All I know is the minute I laid eyes on him, I knew I wanted him, and I’ve never felt so emboldened in my life.

  Looking up, I meet his staring eyes on my lip, as I release it from my teeth. His fingers press into my back, and he licks his lower lip, seemingly hypnotized by the action of my mouth. I know exactly what he wants and everything he’s thinking. The thought throws me because it’s as if I’ve known him forever, but we’ve just met.

  “Have we met? You feel familiar…” My eyes dart away, unwilling to claim the vulnerability in that statement. I feel stupid saying it out loud. Thank god for my phone buzzing. I reach into my purse and pull it out to see a text from Tinkerbell. I swipe my phone open and read the message saying they “left without me.” I couldn’t care less, but this may be the only time I’m happy she texted. I’ve spent the entire weekend getting clear about what I want and who I don’t. The single conversation I had with Nick this morning was the most relevant of my year. It was our goodbye. Tonight is supposed to be easy, fun, but he feels too intense to be easy.

  His deep gravel draws me back to his face. “No, but I know what you mean…it’s not déjà vu because every moment feels new, but I do feel it…the recognition.” Taking a beat, he smirks at some private joke in his head. “I’m King.” His stare is penetrating as if he sees the thoughts I don’t want to admit to.

  “Just King? You either have quite the complex, or your mother was trying to indulge her only son.” Laughing, we keep pace back into the main room and over toward a bank of leather bench seats tucked in by an antique privacy screen that looks like it will allow for secret touches and dirty conversation.

  “Just King, and I’m not an only child. Are you going to tell me your name, or will you leave me guessing?”

  I smile at the idea of making him guess as reality comes crashing in. I can’t tell him my name. I shouldn’t be here in the middle of a sex club only hours after the dissolution of my relationship. My body tense
s and I look away as we move closer to the seats. I try to come up with an explanation for leaving. That’s the only thing I should be doing right now.

  “Don’t leave.” His voice breaks through my thoughts, stopping us in our places.

  “What, wait, huh… How did you know what I was thinking?” I’m caught off guard by how this deliciously sexy man can understand me before I have even processed my own thought.

  King pulls my body closer so he can lean down close to my ear. “Can’t you feel it? I know I probably sound crazy, but I can feel your body humming and I know it’s for me. I don’t care what reasons or reason is making you second-guess yourself. I need to have you, and I believe you feel the same way. I have never felt such a pull to anyone in my life. I would ruin everyone in this room if they stood between us. Stop thinking, let yourself feel, trust yourself.”

  Trust myself? That’s exactly what I’m trying to do. I’m just not sure I can remember how. But he’s right: my body is humming, and it’s definitely just for him. The feeling is intoxicating. I want to think I’ve given a long moment of contemplation, but the truth is the minute I saw this man, we were a foregone conclusion.

  Pushing back against his hard torso, I jump into the deep end of sin. “Hmmm, I like the idea of leaving you guessing. You clearly like games—I’ll stay, but no name for you…” Narrowing my eyes at him, I continue. “Speaking of games, I believe you asked me a question and I answered. The ball is in your court, King.”

  He outstretches his arm to offer me a seat and watches as I take it. How does he make taking a seat feel like foreplay? The way he watches me, I feel devoured. I lean back into soft leather bench, supporting myself with one arm, and drape my long chestnut hair over my shoulder, feeling it tickle my wrist, leaving my neck exposed.

  His eyes follow to my neck, and they narrow as he bites his lower lip. This man has the aura of a sex god. I have no doubt he will make me forget my name and my life. The latter is what I am hoping for the most, but I plan to flirt back just as hard as I’m getting it. It’s been a long time since I felt like myself, comfortable in my skin. I’ve spent too much time worrying about other people when I should have been focused on myself.

  “Would you like a drink? Champagne perhaps?” he asks, refocusing his attention to my face and sitting next to me.

  “Bourbon and Sprite would be amazing.”

  His grin gives away his approval. I swear I’m wet at the idea of his approval.

  Calling the waiter over, King gives our orders and turns his attention back to me. “So, truth…” His pause causes me to squirm. “You liked watching the couple fondle their partner earlier.” His eyes light up when I press my lips together. I’m hoping that if I press them shut, they won’t give away my dirty thoughts. The heat rises through my body, and I am grateful that the room boasts the kind of ambiance that lets my embarrassment exist in the shadows.

  “You were watching me?”

  He waits seemingly to gauge my reaction at the realization.

  The sides of his mouth make a slow turn upward. “Oh, I was captivated. I studied every single one of your reactions.” He rubs his jaw, and I notice the five-o’clock shadow again. I want to run my tongue along the edge of his jaw.

  “Why?” He scoots closer as I lean in, desiring the closeness of his body. We are cheek to cheek, like before, creating a bubble around us, a haze of desire we can’t or more appropriately won’t see our way out of. His breath is warm against my cheek, and I want to turn my head and bite his lobe. Squeezing my thighs together, I try and keep my breathing calm, which seems like an impossibility. I can barely think being this close to my divine stranger.

  “Because I want to recreate every single reaction your body had while watching. The way your legs tensed, but your body wasn’t; you were squeezing your thighs hoping to take some of the pressure away from that swollen little clit. Weren’t you?”

  “Yes.” My breath is husky and barely above a whisper. Touch me.

  “Your hands rubbed and squeezed at your hips because you were wishing someone would take you from behind as you watched them. Grip your body and demand from it. You like the idea of an audience…” The stubble of his face scratches my cheek, and I lean in fractionally for more.

  “Yes.” Touch me.

  “You bit your lip because you wanted to feel the pain she felt when they pinched her nipples…”

  My chest is moving up and down on stride with my breathing. I want him on me, in me, touching me. I want to feel the sting of his teeth on my nipple. My clit feels like it may explode, forcing my body to rock ever so slightly with torturous need, but I can’t admit what I desire.

  King runs his nose down the side of my neck toward my shoulder in the same way a person delights in a bouquet, breathing in to take me in and consume me. “I can smell your excitement. Now, answer me.” His voice is a command for my answer.

  “Yes.” A small moan escapes my lips.

  “Yes, what?” he growls, gripping my neck and pulling it to his lips as he sucks and devours the delicate flesh. I want to accept this part of me. Nick was cruel and used my proclivity against me. I decide now.

  “Yes, I wanted to feel the pain.” Admitting my truth feels like a baptism. I want to feel the pain, the exquisite pain of being taken by a man that is meant to dominate me. I want to feel revered and worshipped while being defiled and owned. He’s everything I never knew I wanted until I walked into Church.

  Releasing me from his decadent assault on my neck, he turns my head until we are eye to eye. “Come with me.” He stands, holding out his hand for me to take.

  Slipping my hand into his makes me feel small. His hand engulfs mine. I look delicate, and it’s a feeling I am unfamiliar with. He brings my hand to his lips and turns it over to kiss the inside of my wrist, causing my stomach to do a little flip. It’s such a sweet gesture from someone who looks anything but.

  “Be mine for tonight. Let me show you everything your body desires. I want to bury myself inside you until you forget your own name. Let yourself be seen. I want the girl behind the mask, the one who keeps her dirty little secrets and waits to think of them only when she touches herself… I want her.”

  I’m dumbstruck by his words. I know what I’m doing, and I know that it’s wrong, but why does every fiber of my being scream to me this is right! I want this, and the fact that he wants the dirtiest version of me makes me want to strip my clothes off and fuck him in the middle of the room. I don’t care about the consequences; tonight is for me. I’m going to drown my sorrows in King and let him kiss every part and make it better.

  “I want to hear it.” He locks eyes with me, shaping my understanding. He needs to know that I am all in. He needs me to say the words so they can act like the seal cementing our arrangement. Our one-night-only affair. I push back from him to give myself distance…distance because I want him to know that I am not saying anything because he is a heady drug making my mind splinter from my body. I am of very fucking sound mind and body.

  “Just for tonight. I’m yours and you’re mine.”

  KING SLOWLY REACHES HIS LARGE hand out, spreading his fingers as they touch my stomach until his palm is flat. I can feel the heat from his hands burning through the fabric of my black silk wrap dress. His touch is delicate and purposeful, the opposite of what I expected but everything I crave.

  “I’m going to kiss you, and I only tell you because I’m not sure how strong my restraint will hold before I rip that fucking dress off your gorgeous body.” His voice is controlled through gritted teeth as he gathers the fabric into his fisted hand, forcing me to pull closer to him. Bringing his other hand up, he cups my jaw, positioning my head where he wants, and releases my dress to mirror his already placed hand with the other hand.

  Bringing his mouth down to mine to hold me in place, our lips barely brush against each other, and then softly, reverently, he begins to kiss me. I’m all consumed, completely enveloped by the movement of our mouths, the feel of hi
s hands directing my head, my chest against his torso. I don’t know where I begin and he ends. The outside world is irrelevant. I could die, and I would be forever sated. The kiss begins to pick up speed as I grab the front of his suit lapels, like a drowning man to an oar, clinging to the breath I’m being given.

  Breaking our kiss, King moves one leg forward, forcing me to take a step back, and I instantly realize we have backed up into another person. My eyes grow wide with embarrassment, and I turn my head to apologize when I feel the man run his hand down my arm.

  “You’re gorgeous. Any chance you want to share this one?” His voice, dripping with his attraction, makes me wince and my skin crawl.

  King reaches across my stomach, turning it to position my body behind his. He reaches out lightning fast, grabbing the man by the throat, causing him to sputter and bat at King’s hands. I’m frozen in my spot. I should run, but I’m more mesmerized by the calm collectiveness King has. He holds this man by his throat but doesn’t seem animated or overcome by the man’s struggling. He’s hyperfocused, protective, violent. This man is powerful and dangerous. I watch his strong, capable arm flex and undulate as the man struggles, and just as fast, he releases him, watching him fall to the floor.

  He flexes his hand to relieve the stress of the strength of his squeeze and shakes his head, “Do you know who the fuck I am? If you ever touch her again, I will have your fingers removed, one by one.” Rubbing his jaw, he tilts his head. “That’s not an idle threat. Leave before my generosity changes.” King’s eyes are locked on the man as he struggles to make his way off the floor, crawling a few feet before standing and running toward the exit. King turns to me and takes my hands in his. Turning one over, he kisses my wrist, and my palm caresses his cheek. I can’t help but watch like everything is in slow motion while my arms populate with goose bumps from his touch.