Filthy Beautiful Lies(15)

 

This line of thinking reminds me of the conversation I had with Sophie the other night. Her sister’s illness, just like my previous harrowing experience puts your life into perspective. It makes you weigh the things in your life, and put everything under a microscope – what you’re doing, how you spend your days. After I found out the truth about Stella, I could have easily spiraled into a heavy-drinking male whore. Instead I threw myself further into my work and my charity. Doing anything else would have put me on the same level as her. And I wanted to be better than that, shit, I needed it.

 

My brothers’ conversation comes flashing back to the forefront. They were shocked to hear I wasn’t sleeping with Sophie, but they don’t know the half of it. They’d be stunned to learn I haven’t had a single partner in two years – that I’ve been living a celibate life, devoting myself only to my work. They’d be even more shocked to learn that Stella wasn’t the one still holding things up between us. I was. And I had my reasons. Reasons I hoped to figure out and finally deal with soon. Maybe then I can finally put the past behind me and build a future –a concept that both excites and scares the fuck out of me.

 

I sink down into my office chair and click on my computer.

 

The first order of business is to get some sexual relief.

 

 

 

 

 

Sophie

 

 

 

 

 

After I emerge from my shower, scrubbed clean and hair neatly combed, I dress and head downstairs to find Colton. Every little insignificant moment we share – like earlier in the mudroom when I refused his offer for new shoes and he looked at me with reverence in his eyes, like I was some strange creature he’d never before encountered, I can feel us growing closer. Our connection, however odd and undefined, is growing deeper with each passing day I spend here. It’s the last thing I expected. And my attraction to him is off the charts, making my body’s reactions more intense and harder to ignore.

 

When I near his office, I hear voices from within. Is someone in there with him? The door’s been left partially open, so I knock once and push it the rest of the way open, registering the sounds just as I enter the room. Dual feminine moaning coming from his computer. He clicks a button on his keyboard, silencing the noise in an instant. Oh my god. Was he watching porn? He’s seated at his desk in the huge leather chair, but his face gives nothing away. His eyes smoldering on mine are the only thing I can see.

 

My face heats with the secret knowledge that while I’d been upstairs in his shower, he’d snuck down here to watch some girl on girl action. Was he pleasuring himself here in the confines of his office? Don’t look down. I refuse to let my eyes fall to his lap. My curiosity is going to get me in trouble someday. What he does in here is his business. But if he has needs and desires, why not just come to me like he did in the beginning? Surely even a bad blowjob is better than his own hand, right? Apparently not. The rejection stings more than it has any right too. But the strange notion that he’s cheating on me worms its way into my head – however irrational.

 

"Did you need something?" he asks, his voice deep and slightly breathless.

 

"I…" Why had I come down here? When I didn’t find him in the kitchen, or the den, my feet led me to his office. There was no denying I looked forward to his company in the evenings. I pause and start again. "I was just wondering why you’re home early."

 

He lets out a heavy sigh pushes his hands into his hair. "I had something I wanted to take care of."

 

As soon as he’s says it, my mind dives into the gutter. Had he come home early to do this?

 

"Are you hungry?" he asks, his posture straightening.

 

"Sure."

 

He rises from the desk and leads me to the dining room. Apparently we aren’t going to discuss his failed masturbation attempt, or that I’d overheard him watching porn.

 

"Have a seat," he says, motioning to the dining table. "I’ll be right back."

 

Normally we carry the dinner dishes that Beth leaves for us together into the dining room, but him serving me feels nice. I pull out my usual chair, the one next to his spot at the head of the table, and plop myself down.

 

Colton soon returns with our plates and glasses of sparkling water, topped with sliced lemon. After my run, I feel like I can eat just about anything, but the food smells amazing.

 

We each dig in, the comfortable silence of routine settling over us.

 

At night is the time I have to ask him questions and get inside his head a bit. I’m pondering what to ask him about tonight when I notice him frowning at me.

 

"Why aren’t you eating?" he asks.

 

I look down at the pasta primavera on my plate. He’s right. I’ve barely touched it.

 

"Is everything okay with your sister?" he asks, setting his own fork down beside his plate.

 

I take a sip of water and lick my lips. "Yeah. Things are okay. She starts her first round of treatment this week."

 

He nods thoughtfully.

 

I can’t help but think I’ve infiltrated his life, his routines, with my own baggage. Maybe I should never have told him about Becca, because the way he looks at me now is like a sad, exploited girl.

 

"Do you regret bringing me here?" I blurt.

 

"Why would I?" he asks, his brows drawing together.

 

Because you haven’t laid a finger on me in days, because you bought me to take my virginity and I’m still as pure as they come? I shrug. "Nevermind, forget I said anything." An uncomfortable silence fills the room and we each continue picking at the food on our plates. "So, I’ve been wondering. Why don’t you don’t have a girlfriend?" I ask next.

 

He takes a sip of his drink, stalling for time.

 

 

 

 

 

Colton

 

 

 

 

 

Sophie is watching me expectantly, waiting to hear about my relationship status. It’s not something I’m ready to discuss with her now, or possibly ever. Every damn muscle in my body is strung so tight I feel like I’m going to spontaneously combust. I’d been distracted as fuck at work again today, and came home to get a little relief in the form of an orgasm. Only I’d failed at that too.

 

I look up into the sweetest, most innocent pair of blue eyes I’ve ever seen and draw a shuddering breath. Sure, my last relationship had ended in disaster, but just because a beautiful, well-spoken, sweet woman is sharing my home, it shouldn’t turn me into a pile of hormonal goo at a basic question.

 

I need to man up. She’s seven years younger than me. I’d bought her for fuck’s sake. It makes me feel a bit like a creepy old man. Even though something tells me that’s not how she views me. No, when she looks at me I can see the pulse thrum in her neck, her cheeks blushing like a ripe berry. There is some chemical reaction, a basic attraction between us. She feels it. I feel it. Yet we both ignore it.

 

In my darker fantasies, I’d eat a girl like her for breakfast, but as I’ve gotten to know her and forced myself to take things slow, a different side of me was emerging. He is kinder, more patient, and open to exploring the possibility of a woman in his life for the first time in a long time. I like him.

 

Sophie’s still watching me across the table, still waiting to hear my response about why I’m single.

 

"I guess no one’s caught my interest in a while," I answer. It’s the truth. I hadn’t been looking for anything serious. Regular sex was the only thing I was missing – hence my impulse buy at the auction. I’d been in San Francisco for business when I learned about the auction – and bored, or just lonely, I’d gone if only to see what the fuss was about. I never truly expected to walk away with a woman on my arm. But Sophie’s trusting eyes had implored mine, silently begging me to get her out of there.

 

"Come on, what’s the real reason you’re single?" she presses on.

 

"Not discussing that."

 

"Play along. Just let me in a little, and in turn, I’ll answer anything you want to know." She smiles adoringly, batting her eyelashes.

 

Her offer is enticing. I wouldn’t mind getting deeper inside her head. If she wants the truth, I’ll fill her in. "In my experience women are interested in two things. Money and power."

 

She opens her mouth to protest and I hold up a hand stopping her. "You wanted to know."

 

She motions for me to continue, then folds her hands in her lap.

 

"You can argue all you want, but I’m not just speaking about the women in my life. It’s biology. Have you ever studied evolutionary science?" She shakes her head. "Women are looking for the biggest, baddest caveman out there - a provider to protect her and her offspring. It’s simple science."

 

She seems to accept my line of thinking and I continue, after taking another swig of my drink.

 

"They want a well-hung, devoted husband whose wealth can afford them the type of lifestyle they dream of. He works all day, slaving away to make a living while his trophy bride is fucking the pool boy." Or gardener, as it were. A kid barely out of high school who wouldn’t know what to do with his dick in his hand. "She has everything she ever dreamed of, but she gets bored spending her darling husband’s money all day and soon needs a new toy – something fun and dangerous to distract herself with. If it’s not the pool boy, then its pain pills and wine-spritzers at ten am. Trust me, Sophie, this is the world I grew up in. I know it well."