Filthy Beautiful Lies(#1#2)

Sophie

After our erotic shower encounter, my relationship with Colton takes on a new meaning, changing in a subtle, but noticeable way. He texts me during the day while he’s at work and calls once he’s on his way home.

I’ve been working several days a week with Kylie, driving myself to her suburban home in one of Colton’s cars. It’s nice to feel like I’m making a contribution to something, and now that Colton and I are actually clicking, I feel a lot better about my situation.

He called at lunchtime today, sounding melancholy, which is completely out of character for him. I’d pressed him about what was wrong and he just said that it was a tough day and that he was looking forward to coming home.

At six o’clock, the house staff has been gone for hours and I’m anxiously awaiting his call to tell me he’s on his way home. I can’t wait to surprise him.

Finally my cell phone rings and I prance across the kitchen to retrieve it from the island. “Hello?”

“I’m on my way,” he says, his voice flat and emotionless.

“Okay,” I squeak. It will be my mission to cheer him up once he arrives.

When Colton arrives home thirty minutes later, I’m ready for him. I took special care getting ready too, taking an extra-long soak in the tub and shaving nearly every square inch of my body, and then prepared a special meal for him. It was the only thing I could think to do when I learned he was having a bad day – it’s the same thing my mom used to make me when I needed comforting.

I meet him by the back door. His suit is rumpled and his expression is sour. When his gaze lifts to mine, his face softens, but I can see something is weighing on him and the need to help bubbles up inside of me.

“Did something happen at work?” I ask, helping him out of his jacket.

He tosses the garment onto the waiting bench. He does this every night and they miraculously end up freshly laundered and back in his closet. I don’t even think he realizes it.

“Sort of,” he says without meeting my eyes.

“I’m good listener. You can tell me things, you know? You can trust me,” I assure him.

“I know. But when I get home, talking about my day is usually the last thing I want to do.”

I nod. I know the feeling well. When Becca was sick, friends would encourage me to talk about it, and even though I appreciated the gesture, I knew talking about it would only bring all my worries and fears to the surface. Best to keep them locked away. So while I understood him, it made me even more curious about what could be troubling him.

“I made you dinner,” I say.

“You cooked?” he asks, his voice lifting in uncertainty.

I nod my head, feeling insecure for some strange reason. It could be the curious way he’s looking at me.

“What about Beth?”

“I sent her home.” I have no authority to release his staff, but Colton doesn’t say anything else, he just follows me into the kitchen, tugging at his tie to loosen it.

Now that he’s here in the kitchen with me, I’m fidgety. Using two pot holders, I bring the dish I’ve prepared to the kitchen island and set it down in front of him. I feel like I’m showing off an elementary school science experiment. One with very questionable results.

He looks down at it curiously before meeting my eyes. “You made me mac-n-cheese?” He grins unevenly.

I instantly feel like a fool. This man has an entire staff of servants and a personal chef. He dines on things like organic beet and arugula salad, grilled swordfish and hand fed prawns. And I just made him elbow macaroni smothered in processed American cheese. His amused expression makes me want to crawl into a hole and die.

Why did I even bother? And now I feel particularly stupid, because I’ve sent his cook home for the night. “Nevermind.” I grab the casserole dish to clear it away and his hand on my wrist stops me.

“Stop.”

“It was a stupid effort.” Wasted.

“Stop,” he says again, removing my hands from the dish. “You cooked for me.” My eyes jerk up to his, trying to make sense of the reverence in his words. “I haven’t had a home cooked meal like this – comfort food – in…a long damn time. Thank you.”

I’d misread his reaction. He’s surprised. And apparently happy. Pulling out a stool at the island, he sits down and helps himself to a heaping portion, piling a mound of macaroni in his bowl without pretense. “Do we have any milk?” he asks around a big mouthful of pasta.

I laugh at him and head to the massive fridge, and pull out a carton of organic milk to pour him a glass. I watch Colton eat two big servings of the dish, and he insists I join him. We sit side by side at the countertop, stuffing ourselves with ooey-gooey melted cheese and pasta. It actually tastes halfway decent and I’m relieved. Though if I’m being honest, it’s his reaction that makes my heart soar.

He’s instantly more light-hearted and seems to have let whatever stress was troubling him slip away.

“How are things going with Kylie? She says you’re a godsend.”Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

“It’s fine. Kylie’s a sweet girl and it’s exactly what I wanted – something to get me out of the house.”

“Good.” Colton digs in for another bite, seemingly satisfied with my response.

“More milk?” I ask, noticing his glass is almost empty.

He looks at it thoughtfully for a second. “Actually…which wine pairs well with mac-n-cheese? Pinot Grigio?”

I nod. “Sure. If you like.” I make a move to get up and his hand on my elbow stops me.

“Stay put. I’ll get it.”

I glance down at the casserole dish that we’ve made a rather impressive dent in, and cover it with the lid, before setting it inside the fridge.

He returns a moment later with two glasses of wine and hands me one. “Thank you for this,” he says, his voice solemn and his eyes on mine.

I nod and meet his gaze, taking a sip of wine. Mmm. Colton Drake, wine and yummy comfort food. My day is complete.

We set our bowls in the sink and head outside to the balcony off his office, settling into the lounge chairs to sip our wine. After several minutes the wine and soundtrack of the waves relaxes me.

“What should we do now?” The sultry tone to my voice is entirely unintended, but his dark gaze finds mine and my sex muscles tighten. Eep! The hungry look in his eyes is new and unnerving.

“Come here.”

I slide off my seat and cross the few steps until I’m standing directly before him. My heart hammers unevenly in my chest and the sensuous look in his eyes has me wondering if tonight is the night. Though I’d been merely curious before, I’m now dying to know what it will feel like when he finally takes me. As strange as it sounds, it’s an invasion I would welcome. To be wrapped up in his strong arms, to feel his full lips on mine and to finally understand what all the fuss over sex is about…I shudder at the thought.

“Are you cold?” Colton’s fingertips reach out to stroke my upper arms.

I shake my head. The shivers racing along my skin have nothing to do with the temperature.

“What happened the other night…” he pauses, his tongue lazily stroking his bottom lip as his eyes burn on mine, “was that okay with you?”

I swallow the massive lump in my throat. I should have felt horribly embarrassed that he’d caught me masturbating in his shower. Yet any and all feelings of shame are absent. I feel liberated, free. And his response, to strip down and join me, his hard cock tall and proud pressing into my skin showed me that he felt the exact same way. There was something deeply comforting about that. And knowing that he knew how to pleasure my body better than I did? That was the icing on a pretty freaking awesome cake.

“Y-yes,” I answer, blinking up at him.

He reaches up to trace my bottom lip with his thumb and then hooks his palm around the back of my neck, drawing my mouth closer to his. “Good girl.” He leans in closer, wrapping his hands around the backs of my bare knees. “Take off your panties,” he whispers.

“Here?” The balcony is private, but we’re still outside.

He doesn’t respond, his eyes just stay locked on mine. Clearly there’s no room for negotiation.

I’m wearing one of the cute sundresses I’d bought with Marta my first week here, and the cool night air nips at me as I reach under my dress and slide the panties down my legs. They drop to my ankles and I step out of them, handing the scrap of navy silk to him with a cheeky grin.

I have no idea what he wants, but his hand glides up my inner thigh, pushing my dress up out of the way. His fingers caress my bare skin. Even after the bikini wax started to grow out, I’ve kept myself shaved smooth, liking how sensual it makes me feel.

His eyes find mine as he continues lightly rubbing me. I can feel myself getting wet as endorphins rush into my blood steam. I wonder if last time was a fluke, or if I’ll be able to reach climax again. God, I want to. I tilt my hips closer allowing him a better angle and Colton’s mouth twitches with a smile.

“Come here.” He takes my hand and helps me lower myself down onto his lap so I’m straddling him. My legs are spread wide and my bare pussy is close enough that he reaches down and begins rubbing me once again. His other hand curls around the back of my neck and he brings my mouth to his. His lips are soft and full and demanding.

He quickly takes charge of the kiss, his tongue caressing mine in a hypnotic rhythm. My entire body responds, my hips rocking closer and my hands pushing into his hair.

Reading my body’s reactions, Colton picks up his pace, circling and rubbing my clit until I’m soaking wet and right on the edge of climax. The need to touch him spikes within me. I reach between us, unbuckling his belt and nearly rip his pants open in my mission. Once his thick, warm cock is in my hands he lets out a soft growling sound of pleasure. I pump my fist up and down, loving the way his desperate kisses feel as we move toward release together.

Gripping my ass underneath my dress, he tugs me closer until his hot length is nestled right up against my cleft. Angling my hips closer, I rock against him. His fingers bite into my skin he breaks the kiss, his eyes flashing dangerously on mine.

I slid up and down his cock, my slick skin so sensitive I can feel every hard ridge and vein as I ride him. I wonder what he would feel like inside…

“Careful,” he growls, his voice sticking in his throat. His eyes are dark and half-closed like he’s drowning in pleasure.

Ignoring his warning, I lift and lower myself on him, unable to stop moving against him. The friction of his solid cock against my sensitive clit is too much. Little cries of pleasure break the silence and I move faster, rubbing against his hard cock, chasing the orgasm I want so badly.

Colton watches me move against him, his hands still gripping my ass as I work my body against his. He feels so good. I wonder what it would feel like to let him finally push inside me… My body clenches and I cry out his name, coming in a wet gush all over him.

When the blur of my earth-shattering orgasm wears off, I open my eyes and meet his. His jaw is clenched tight and he looks angry.

“I’m…I’m sorry.” I hop up from his lap and scramble away, afraid I’ve done something wrong.