The Lies Between Us (The Devil's Dust #4)(17)

“What am I doing?” I mutter, thumping my head against the door with each syllable. I really shouldn’t be here. Lip’s face flashes in my mind, the look of hunger flaring in his eyes when he saw me naked. I draw in a large breath and shake the image from my head. An unexpected yawn leaves my mouth when I lift my head and eye the extremely welcoming bed.

“Mmm. Sleep,” I mumble before I flip the lights off and drag my feet to the bed. Plopping into the sea of white cotton, I curl myself into the comforter and close my eyes. It’s going to be one of those nights where I’m too tired to think about anything else besides sleep.

Good.

“Goodnight, Lip,” I whisper into oblivion.


LIP

Sitting on the bed, I run my hands through my hair in distress. I have a chick in my f*cking home. A chick I’m not banging, at that. I close my eyes, the image of her naked and beaded with water from the shower flaring behind my eyelids. She’s freckled. Little dustings of freckles scatter along her chest, perky tits and thighs. A growl rumbles up my throat as I think about it, my briefs becoming strained as my dick lifts at the thought of her * dusted with little freckles. Who knew I was attracted to that shit? Those long legs that peeked out from beneath her towel make me want to do things to her, images of them draped around my shoulders filling my mind as I wring my fingers together in frustration. I stand and cross my hands behind my head, releasing a long breath and trying to clear my mind of her sexy ass.

I’ve never not f*cked a girl I’ve brought back to my place before. Hell, I’ve never chased a girl before. But she’s different somehow, and clearly needs help. I knew she was lying about her brother, I f*cking knew it. But coming across her at the laundromat was pure coincidence. I was there picking up a leather cut of a patched-in member who got spray paint on it. Life of a prospect, I suppose—I get the bitch work. But it will be worth it in the end, I know it.

When I saw Cherry’s car sitting at the side of the building, I was pissed. I was saddened that she really didn’t have anybody, and I was also furious. It’s hotter than hell outside and she was locked up in that piece-of-shit car with the windows rolled up. I shake my head at the image of her sweating and nearly suffocating. Her grayish blue eyes do something to me. They make my chest anchor in the pit of my stomach, and my balls tighten at the same time. They are gorgeous yet hold so much sorrow and torment. You can tell just by looking at Cherry that she’s been through something rough.

My gaze trails to the door. I wonder if she’s asleep, or if she’s up still. I know it’s gotta be weird being in a strange guy’s house. Opening the door, my heart beats off-rhythm against my chest. With each step toward her door, my mind runs with confusion on what the f*ck I’m doing. It’s quiet; maybe she’s asleep. I gently place my ear to the door, but hear nothing.

“Night, Cherry,” I whisper. I pull from the door and head back to my room, where I’ll jerk off to a feisty little ginger that plagues my mind.


CHERRY

A hand trails along my cheek, waking me from my sleep.

I moan and snuggle the covers into my chest. Deep laughter makes my eyes pop open with sudden awareness.

Looking up, I find a freshly showered Lip hovering over me. He’s wearing a black shirt that’s distressed to the point it looks white in some spots, and his leather vest over that. He smiles, and my eyes trail from his tattooed arms to his lips and up to his eyes.

“I got church this morning. There’s plenty of food in the kitchen, so make whatever you want. I’ll be back when I can,” he informs.

“Church?” My eyes furrow in confusion. It’s not Sunday.

Lip lifts his head and licks his bottom lip, like he’s thinking.

“Umm. It’s not the kind of church you’re thinking of. The club, they meet in this room sometimes called a chapel. We have our daily meetings in it. Prospects don’t always attend them, but we’re to be present in case there’s something the patched-in members need from us,” he explains.

“Hmm. So how do you become a patched-in member or whatever it is you called it,” I ask, my voice husky from sleep.

“Gotta prove my worth, show ‘em I’ve got what it takes.” Lip looks off.

“Ah, okay.” Whatever that means.

“See you in a bit.” He grabs the covers and pulls them over my head playfully before leaving.

A half hour later, I finally pull my ass out of bed in search of some food. I find some cereal and settle with that. Walking around the place with a red bowl full of Lucky Charms, I survey my surroundings. It’s definitely masculine. It could use some color, a touch of feminism for sure. I risk stepping out of the front door, just needing some sun on my face. A small breeze shifts Lip’s shirt around my thighs. I glance downward, eyeing my bare legs. The bottoms of my feet are warm from the patio steps, and I wiggle them. I should probably get back inside before Lip gets a call that a half-naked chick eating cereal is standing at his front door.

Turning to head back inside, my eyes land on a cluster of purple tulips across the street at the neighbor’s house. They’re beautiful, with a splatter of white along the petals. I don’t think I’ve ever seen tulips like that before.

I wash my bowl and spoon and before I know it, I’ve washed all the dirty dishes. I don’t stop there, either: I wash the counters, pick up the dirty clothes, and take the trash out. I clean the whole house. It’s the least I can do after Lip invited me to stay here.