The Lies Between Us (The Devil's Dust #4)(13)

“What do you do when you’re not doing that?” he interrogates. I smirk and lift my hand, revealing his heavy silver watch.

“What the?” He brings his wrist up, finding it bare. “You sneaky little shit!” My cheeks flush and a smile splits my face. He’s so sure of himself, but when I take something from him without him knowing, it unravels that ego of his. “You’re good at that.” He chuckles, swiping the watch from my hand, and I shrug.

“Where did you learn how to do that? I didn’t even feel you take it off me,” he questions, putting it back on his wrist.

“My dad taught me. I didn’t live in the best part of town growing up, or have the best upbringing. Stealing food and belongings around the neighborhood to sell for money was something I was raised to do.” I look up from fumbling with my hands and see Lip’s eyes wide. My face goes stoic when I realize what I just f*cking said. I close my eyes and curse myself. I can’t believe I just said all that to him.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. We didn’t struggle for food growing up, but my father was a piece of shit who took what he wanted. He made sure me and my brother learned that trait early on.” My head jerks up, surprised he shared something personal, too. He brings his gaze from the ceiling to me and pulls me close. The music from the party blares with such intensity the walls shake.

I rest my chin on his chest and look at the door. This man who lies next to me, a man full of many dark secrets and an edge as sharp as a serrated knife, makes me feel oddly safe. Maybe it’s because we’re both tainted with the horrendous upbringing our parents bestowed upon us. We have both seen hell at its finest, felt the warmth of its flames from a young age. Maybe if we stick together, we can find Heaven on Earth.

My eyes droop as the song “Kiss From A Rose” by Seal plays loudly from inside the main area. As if Lip notices the song too, his eyes slowly trail to mine. We lie here in silence, our lips mouthing the lyrics to the song every so often.

“Show me your horns.” Lip smirks.

“My what?”

“Your horns. I bet you look sexy as f*ck rocking out.” He breathes heavily. I narrow my eyes, unsure what he means. I twist my lips. It’s a little childish he’s asking me to show him devil horns, but I do it anyways. I point my index fingers toward my head and he throws his head back laughing. My heart jumps in my chest and my cheeks flush.

“Not those horns. They’re more than visible,” he teases, lowering my hands. He pulls one of my hands up, tucking my middle finger and ring finger in with my thumb, making my index finger and pinky point straight up. “See, devil horns. The rockers do it.” He smiles.

“Oh, Devil horns,” I whisper. My brother does this all the time when he’s listening to AC/DC. I raise both my hands up with Devil horns, and stick my tongue out.

“Shit, you look hot.” He growls. “A girl rocking out, there’s nothing sexier. You just need a little bit of leather and you’d be a wet dream.” He winks.

I laugh, my cheeks warming. Noticing my embarrassment, he pulls me closer, easing my humiliation. Lying here, the song “Don’t Cry” by Guns N’ Roses blares. Listening to the song, I don’t fight back my yawn, exhaustion weighing heavy.

“Lip, I think it’s time you take me back,” I state sleepily.

“I’ve been drinking,” he mutters. “Just stay here with me.”

I lift off the bed, my heart pitter-pattering off rhythm. “Lip, that’s not a good idea,” I object. I can’t stay here with him; I don’t trust myself not to do something stupid. He’s stupidly good-looking, and I’m having a hard time not seeking more than comfort from him as it is. As much as I want to open my cold heart to him, to just be free, I’m afraid Eric has ruined me to let that flag fly any longer. I don’t trust anyone, and I surely shouldn’t trust a biker who has women flocking to him.

He stands and pulls his shirt above his head and my mouth snaps shut, my thoughts of … what was I thinking about? He drops his jeans to the floor and my eyes immediately dart to his boxers. I can see his length pressing against the material, and my body throbs at the thought of how big he might be. I look away. The lights turn off, and I feel hands grabbing at my shorts.

“Lip, I-I…” I stammer frantically, my body tensing. He shuffles my shorts down, ignoring the warning in my voice, his fingers tickling the skin along my legs as he pulls them off. “I cant, I’m—“

“Relax.” He laughs, climbing into the bed beside me. I don’t relax, though; my body is stiff from fear beyond belief. He brings the blanket up and wraps his arm around me, tucking me into his frame. He’s not trying to f*ck me; instead, he’s tucking me into bed. My chest eases, and I exhale a ragged breath. I am shocked that he’s in here with me, not having sex, when he could be with one of those girls having lots of sex. He’s not what I expected at all. He’s sweet, sexy, and the right amount of rough around the edges.

I feel the head of his dick pressing at the small of my back, and realize it’s getting harder. He shifts and it pokes at my butt cheeks, and my body comes alive with desire, desperately wanting to just give in to temptation.

My breathing shallows, and my sex throbs with a dangerous craving of whatever Lip is offering. His cock presses into my back again, hard.