Throne of Truth (Truth and Lies Duet #2)(30)

I didn’t give up mine.

I kept it as physical support, tracing the droplets on the sides, smearing it with grime from my hands. I needed something to hold. Something to touch. I just wished it could be her.

“Are you going to spit it out, Penn, or do I need to leave?”

I brought the glass to my lips, buying another few seconds as I swallowed a cold mouthful.

She shifted impatiently, her thighs tight and fingers clutching the couch.

Wiping my lips with the back of my hand, I said quietly, “Where do you want me to start?”

She flinched as if I’d shouted. Her shoulders stayed around her ears as she snapped, “How about the beginning?”

“There are too many beginnings to know which one you mean.”

She rolled her eyes. “Stop with the riddles and spit it out.”

I inhaled hard. “You want to know about the alley.”

She nodded, her tone sarcastic. “Obviously. If that’s where you want to start.”

I risked looking at her. Our eyes locked, heat and fire and brimstone. Passion and lust and denial. So much denial. She looked at me as if I wasn’t worthy of being close to her even though I’d saved her life.

Twice.

“I was there.”

“I know.” She crossed her arms. “What part did you play?”

“Part?” I frowned.

“Were you the one to rip my clothes, steal my necklace, or try and force me to give a blowjob?”

I winced, gripping the glass too hard. Any harder, it would splinter. Placing it on the table, it wobbled in my haste to be free of it.

Elle flinched; her nostrils flared, waiting for my damning response.

Familiar anger toward her rose. Anger I was more acquainted with than whatever I felt now. Shoving myself off the chair, I slammed to my knees in front of her.

Grabbing her face, I held her firm as she shied backward, trying to get free.

My fingers dug into her cheeks, holding her even as she latched her fingers around my wrists and scratched me hard. “Let me go.”

I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t answer.

My lips sought hers.

I dragged her forward, our mouths connecting in a vicious kiss.

She cried out as I held her close. My tongue licked her seam, begging for entry but not forcing, even though every cell in my body demanded to shove her back, climb on top, and show her in actions not words who I was.

It fucking hurt that she had to ask. That she looked at me and wasn’t convinced. That she could think such awful things about me. That she couldn’t see.

Her tiny fist connected with my sternum. If I hadn’t been punched there a few times already, it wouldn’t have registered over the sex haze in my brain. But she prodded a deep bruise, stealing my air, making me pull back.

“Stop touching me.” Her voice was a hiss, a threat, a plea.

I didn’t let her go, drinking in her rage, sinking into the vulnerability in her gaze. “How can you ask that question?”

She coughed in surprise. “What question?”

“Who I am?”

She bared her teeth. “Because I don’t know.”

“You do know. You’ve known all along.”

“Wrong. You’ve lied to me from day one.”

I shook my head sadly. “I never lied to you, Elle. Not once.”

She swatted away my hands, sucking in a breath. “You lied about everything.”

“Did I lie about how much I want you? Did I lie how much I—”

“You’re going to sit there and claim whatever it was between us was purely physical?”

“Is. Not was. It’s not past tense.” I took her hand, my cock hardening against the intoxicating buzz between us.

“Answer the question, Penn.” She tried to untangle her fingers from mine.

I didn’t let her.

I wanted to nod with conviction. To say the connection linking and pinging and zapping like nuclear energy was nothing more than shallow lust. But we both knew emotions had crept their sneaky asses into our lives long before we’d acknowledged it.

They’d been there since that very first night.

They’d been there every day for three goddamn years.

I’d hunted her down, invaded her life, and befriended her father because of emotion. To deny that would be the worst kind of lie because it would mean I’d have to lie to myself.

“I won’t say that because it’s not true.”

“Oh!” She rolled her eyes. “You’re finally going with truth.”

I scowled. “I promised, didn’t I?”

She laughed, hard and brittle. “Sorry if I don’t believe you. That I don’t believe you’re going to answer me honestly for the first time—”

“You dare lecture me on honesty?”

“You dare deny you’ve been anything but a liar?”

“Elle,” I snarled. “Don’t start an argument you can’t win. You want the truth. I’m giving you the truth. You’ve known the fucking truth all along.”

She stood up, knocking me sideways. My arm flew out, smashing her glass of water off the coffee table. Liquid spilled in a waterfall onto the brown and turquoise retro rug but I didn’t care.

She charged for the door.