Lily White Lies(62)

Offering a hand, he helped me to my feet.

“This was extreme, even for them. But I’m not sorry they did it.” Scanning his face for a reaction, our eyes locked, as I continued, “What I mean is you’ve been great. I don’t think I would have handled this weekend as well as I have if it were anyone else.”

Almost unnoticeably, he took a hold of my other hand.

To his unknowing eye, I was the portrait of calm, but what he couldn’t see was that my blood was in a race with my adrenaline, causing sweaty palms, jumping nerves and unblinking eyes.

His eyes were unyielding, keeping mine as their submissive hostages. His lips slowly grew nearer and his eyes continued to hold mine without mercy or relent. As I teetered on the line between rational and reverie, he lifted a hand to my face and softly stroked my bruise with the back of his fingers. I tilted my head as his hand crossed my cheek, leisurely working its way around to the back of my neck.

He had the power to turn a private fantasy into a heated reality. Slowly, he lowered his head until his lips brushed mine... once... and then again, savoring each second of foreplay to a kiss. A slight tilt of his head brought our lips together in a delicate union  .

I lost my anchor on reality as his kisses deepened, drawing me into his impressive body. My head spun and my legs buckled as he tilted his head from one side to the other, experiencing my lips from every angel. With his arms wrapped tightly around my waist, my fingers explored every inch of muscle on their journey up his back.

He reluctantly ended our kiss and looked deeply into my eyes. The recurring fantasies I had been having about this moment paled in comparison to the feel of his arms around me and the taste of his lips on mine.

His words came out quietly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m not sorry. I wanted you to.”

He lowered his head again, this time his kisses more urgent, more probing, exploring the recesses of my mouth with his tongue. He took the soft moan that escaped from between our lips as his cue to move forward, lowering me gently onto the sheepskin that lay in front of the fireplace. Currents of electricity raced through my veins as he pinned my body down with his own. As I lost my fingers in his thick hair, he lifted his head.

“Meg, we can’t... not yet”

I couldn’t bring myself to speak although my mouth hung open as if to question his abrupt change in demeanor.

He let his head hang limply, his eyes avoiding mine.

“I know my timing here really sucks, but I have to be honest with you. My name is Con... Con Ellis... and that’s why I said I was sorry I kissed you. You have the right to know who I really am before we go any further.” He blurted his words as if that were the only way he would get them all said.

Confusion set in quickly and without realizing it, my hands had pushed him away, trying to get him off me as I put the pieces of what he said together.

“Ellis? Why is that name familiar?”

“Wesley Ellis was my father.”

The air in the room became thick as I tried to inhale. My eyes fell on everything in the room except him, as events from many years ago raced forward in my mind.

He asked, “Are you alright?”

I shook my head as I managed to get on my feet. “I feel like I went from ‘This is your Life’ to ‘Tales from the Crypt’ in a matter of seconds. What do you expect me to say?”

“I’m sorry; I should have been upfront with you earlier. That first time I saw you at the café, when Cory told me who you were, I was afraid that if you knew who I was, you wouldn’t...” He vigorously ran a hand through his hair. “I wanted a chance to show you that I wasn’t like them. I wanted you to get to know me independently of my father and grandfather.”

“Grandfather? What does he have to do with this?”

He looked at me quizzically, and replied, “My grandfather... Jack Ellis, but you probably know him better by what most people call him—Joker.”

I sunk to the couch and processed what he had said. Several minutes went by before I could think of anything logical to say.

“I’m missing something here. You’re worried that your family tree will scare me off?” My ironic laugh came out as more of a grunt. “Maybe you’re the one who’s missing something.”

“What are you talking about?”

I felt my eyes slowly fill. “Your father killed my aunt and uncle... that was an accident. My grandfather killed your father... that wasn’t an accident.” Wiping underneath each eye, I added; “Now you have a new reason to be sorry you kissed me.”

His brow creased. “Your aunt and uncle? No, your mother and father... and your grandfather didn’t kill my father. My grandmother did.” Holding my face in his hands, he looked me directly in the eyes, and said, “And I’m definitely not sorry I kissed you.”