Art of the Lie (4 page)

“I think this is the weirdest conversation I have ever had.”

“Welcome to my dating world for the last several years.”

He raised his eyebrows but said nothing. After a pause, Lindy went on.

“So now, whenever I meet somebody I actually like, it’s just this huge
issue
I have to worry about from the very start. When am I going to say it? How am I going to say it? How’s the guy going to react? How do I even want him to react? What if he doesn’t think I look good naked? What if the sex is terrible and how will I even know that?”

Richard had raised a hand to interrupt her as she was halfway through her last sentence. “That last one, you don’t need to worry about.”

“How will I know if the sex is terrible?”

“No,” he said, very slowly and patiently. “What if he doesn’t think you look good naked. Not an issue. Wipe it from your list of concerns. Your very
long
list of concerns.” He was staring down at the pillow, tugging at a loose thread in one corner. Lindy followed his gaze, remembered what the pillow was hiding and looked away quickly.

“That’s nice of you to say.” She was far from convinced.

“Not really. I came by the other day and your door was open a little, but I didn’t see you anywhere so I thought I should check it out and make sure you were okay. Like, make sure nobody had broken in or anything. So I looked for you and…you know, you just have a loft with no real doors and a transparent shower curtain. Although I noticed it sure steams right up once you start the shower running. Which you did right when I got there, or else I would have heard the water and known where you were to begin with. I locked the door for you on the way out, by the way. You should really be more careful.”

“You saw me in the shower? Naked? Richard!”

“You’re shocked? You just asked me to deflower you, and now you’re shocked that I accidentally walked in on you in the shower?”

“Don’t say ‘deflower’. Oh god, that makes it sound so medieval. It’s a hymen, not a bunch of freaking rose petals. There’s nothing poetic about it. Ugh. You know what? Let’s just not talk about it at all, okay? Just forget I said anything. You just go home and forget this and I’m going to kill myself with an ice cream overdose. Please explain to my family after I’m gone.” She started to get up, planning to head for the nearest convenience store that carried ice cream by the half gallon. And wine. A lot of wine.

“Sit back down. You’re not going anywhere.” His voice was quiet, but the steel in his tone made Lindy’s knees weak.

She stopped, mid-stand, and sank back onto the deep seat. “Richard, I’m really sorry. I don’t know what came over me, it was just temporary insanity or something. Please, can we just try to get past—”

“Are you saying you’re no longer interested?” He looked up at her with an expression she’d never seen on his face before. Harder, more intent. A dark thrill ran down her body and she tried in vain to suppress a shiver.

“I’m saying I was nuts to ask you to do this,” she replied, feeling strangely like a kid in the principal’s office being asked to explain herself. Only with much more interesting consequences for misbehavior.

“Why?” He leaned forward until he was only a foot or so away, still staring. Daring her to back away. “Don’t you think I’d do a good job?”

Jesus. She tried to find her composure, but it was nowhere to be seen. The tone of his voice had done something to her, prompting a surge of moisture and tingling need between her legs. Her own voice came out as an utterly undignified squeak. “I wouldn’t know the difference. I have no basis for comparison, remember?”

“How could I possibly forget?”

Chapter Three

Lindy looked like a deer in headlights.
A very, very sexy deer in headlights
, Richard amended to himself. Her eyes were wide and a little glassy, and as he watched, she licked her lips. The pink tip of her tongue entranced him, and he had to take drastic measures to keep from swooping down and just attacking her mouth. Thinking as hard as he could of kitten road kill, he moved to sit next to her, closing the final inches between them.

Virgin
virgin
virgin
, his hindbrain chanted, and he stuffed the chant firmly down beneath the ill-fated kittens before his overeager penis could take up the battle cry and completely short-circuit his brain. He could have resisted forever, he thought. He could have resisted anything but Lindy actually
asking
him to sleep with her. To be her first. Because he was such a good friend.

He didn’t care if he regretted it later, he was almost dizzy with wanting her.

“If I do this,” he said, trying to lighten the mood, “will you still respect me in the morning?”

Her upper lip flexed. Not quite a smile, but close. “You’re assuming I respect you now?”

“I’m wounded.” He clutched a hand to his heart. “You wound me.”

“I will still respect you in the morning. I might even make you pancakes.”

“Hmm. Sex for pancakes. I think my virtue is worth pancakes and at least some bacon or something on the side.”

“
Your
virtue?” Lindy shot back. “I thought we were talking about my virtue here?”

Now she was smiling. Nervously, but smiling. Much better, he decided. He loved her smile, especially the cute one where she looked at him like he was crazy but she liked him anyway. “Hey, you’re not the one who’s talking about giving it up for the price of a few pancakes.”

“No, I’m just the one offering to pay for it with pancakes, apparently. But fine, I’ll spring for the bacon.”

“Then we have a deal.”

“Okay then.” She looked a little stumped about what to do next. She was wringing her hands, also, probably not a good sign. Richard pulled one of her hands free from the tangle, rubbing her palm with his thumb until her fingers relaxed a little. She smelled good, like shampoo and perfume.

“So,” he said, trying to sound casual, “we should probably shake hands on it or something. Or, you know, kiss. To seal the deal.”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.” Lindy was back in the headlights again but he decided to just go for it. Her mouth—lush, full lips already slightly parted—was just too alluring to resist any longer.

He bent and brushed his mouth against hers,
featherlight
, pulling back when she was clearly expecting more. Never too early to start teasing, he figured. And if he’d gone any further just then, he didn’t know if he could have stopped so easily. He didn’t want to scare her away. Control, that was what he needed here. Iron control. He still couldn’t believe what was happening, though, and control was probably the last thing he had over the situation.

Lindy looked up at him, eyes wide and anxious. Placed a hand on each of his shoulders and gave a little jump when Richard put his own hands on her waist, tugging her closer. When he pulled her nearest leg over his lap, she had another moment of evident panic.

“You know, I wasn’t planning to do this until tomorrow. I had a whole thing planned,” she blurted.

“Really? You’ll have to tell me all about that some time.”

“Maybe I should’ve gotten drunk first.”

Richard felt utterly calm and confident now that they’d started. If he knew one thing, it was how to make out with a girl, and that knowledge had already started to apply itself. “No, this is better. Much better.” He lowered his head and nuzzled the soft hairs behind her ear, pulling a shiver and a sigh from her. When he spoke again his lips and breath teased the taut muscle leading from her jaw to her shoulder. Lindy shuddered at the touch, as if he’d incited a minor riot in her central nervous system. “You wouldn’t want to dull your senses; you’d miss out on too much of the fun.”

“You sound pretty sure of yourself.”

He chuckled. “About this, I am. Not much else, but this?” He drew back, lifting his hands to her face. “
This
I’m absolutely certain about. You are going to enjoy the hell out of this experience, Lindy Moore. You are going to be the most well-satisfied ex-virgin in the history of sex by the time I’m through with you.”

He stifled her retort with a kiss, the first real kiss he’d ever given her. Determined and insistent, demanding and receiving her full and immediate attention.

* * * * *

Alcohol would have been redundant. Lindy felt drunk anyway. Intoxicated with her own bravery and success, and definitely high on Richard
D’Arco
.

She had planned to maintain a certain detachment. But she hadn’t anticipated how overwhelmed she would be by the strength of her own response. Every fantasy she’d ever had about Richard came roaring back into her hormone-flooded brain, fueling her reaction like lighter fluid on hot coals. Before she quite knew how, she found herself straddling Richard’s lap, kissing him back with mindless greed. When he cupped her ass and pulled her closer, pressing her against his stiff cock in a slow cadence, Lindy groaned and rubbed against him even harder, despite the sting it brought to her freshly waxed skin. She was too turned-on to care what she looked like, too turned-on for shame to even register as a blip on her radar. Richard didn’t seem to mind.

And when her arousal got the best of her just a few minutes later, taking her by surprise and clobbering her with an orgasm, Richard didn’t seem to mind that either. If anything, he helped, grinding into her and biting the muscle in her neck that seemed hardwired to her clitoris. And as Lindy shuddered and keened, he chuckled and marked his spot on her neck with a love bite.

“God, that was hot,” he whispered when her high, soft cries had stopped and her trembling finally ebbed. Lindy whimpered and he laughed, squeezing her tight. “Now let’s see what it looks like when you do that naked.”

He carried her across the hall to his own bedroom, really just a corner of his loft marked off by two walls that met to make a freestanding right angle. Lindy buried her face in his shoulder, wrapping her legs tighter around his waist, unwilling to let go even for the time it would take him to put her down. He wound up on top of her on the bed and happily resumed the same hypnotic grind he’d executed on the couch. Lindy arched into him, still not quite recovered from her unexpected dose of bliss. Little reverberations kept coursing through her, and she craved more.

“Lind, you’re not allergic to latex or anything, right?” He nudged the words into her ear, accompanying them with a series of little nibbles and licks.

She shook her head. Latex? Then she realized he meant condoms, and the reality of what they were about to do hit her full force. Lindy opened her eyes and stared up at Richard’s ceiling, which looked so much like her own—all exposed beams and ductwork with too many cobwebs. Light streamed in from the wall of windows. She clutched at Richard’s back, wishing herself back to the couch and the insanity that had forestalled her panic.

He noticed. Richard pulled back and gave her a speculative look. Lindy dreaded what she thought was coming next, the buzz-kill words. He was already sitting up, backing away.
Are you all right? Is it okay if I do this?

Instead his question was more specific, and wholly unexpected. Hooking a finger through a tiny hole near the bottom of her well-worn black t-shirt, he stroked his fingertip against her stomach and asked, “Is this shirt special to you in any way?”

“Um, no?”

“Good.” And he ripped it from hem to neck in one swift move, shoving the cups of her front-clasp bra down impatiently and dipping his head to suckle at one already taut nipple. “Take it all the way off,” he muttered impatiently on his way to the other side, unsnapping her bra expertly in passing but leaving Lindy to figure out how to accomplish the rest. Finally working her arms free of the shirt and bra straps, she flung the clothes away and let herself wallow in the delicious sensations Richard was arousing.

“These are so fucking gorgeous. I could spend hours,” he admitted, rearing his head and cupping her full breasts, watching them jiggle slightly as he moved his hands. “No. I wouldn’t last hours. I’d want to fuck them before that.”

“Oh,” she said, her breath coming short again. “How does that work, exactly?”

His laugh, muffled once more against the crest of one breast, was confident, smug and devastatingly sexy. “Maybe later. That’s the advanced class. Sorry, didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“You didn’t,” Lindy whispered, shifting her legs against his hips and trying to tug him closer, get him to lie down on top of her again. “It didn’t freak me out, it made me wet.”

She had guessed he might like to hear that, and if his incoherent groan was any indication, she had guessed correctly. Laughing, she resumed her efforts to fully pull him down, only to be thwarted again.

“I have to see for myself,” he explained, shifting farther down and pulling her skirt and lace-trimmed cotton panties down with him. “Oh you are definitely trying to kill me, woman.” He pitched the garments over the side of the bed and stared at her for a few moments, long enough for Lindy to grow nervous. Had the waxing been a bad idea? She hoped not, because she really liked it. It would be a shame if Richard didn’t.

“What?” she finally asked, unable to tolerate the silence. Her fingers fisted in the faded blue comforter that covered Richard’s bed.

“Fucking unbelievable. I don’t know whether I want to fuck you or frame you and put you on my wall.”

She blushed and dropped her head to the side but she could still feel his eyes on her, and she decided she could grow to like it. Very much. Almost as much as she liked his hands, which were on her next, tracing slow lines from her ankles up the insides of both legs. After a moment, apparently not satisfied with the composition, he gripped her by the ankles and pressed her knees up and out, spreading her wider.

“Richard, what are you doing?” She tried to retreat but he was holding her in place too firmly. A dreamy smile played around the corners of his mouth, distracting her. His dark eyes were still focused, laser-sharp, on her cunt. Which, Lindy knew, was wetter than it had ever been in her life. And more creamy moisture was welling up, threatening to spill over. “You’re making me self-conscious.”