Liar (Madison Kate #2)(58)
"Nope, I'm just going to hang out over here," I told him, sinking down into his desk chair, which was set up in front of his keyboard again.
He gave me a tired smile. "You don't trust me, Hellcat?"
I scoffed. "I don't trust me, Max Steele." I absentmindedly ran my fingers over the keys of his keyboard, not depressing any but just feeling them out.
He was silent for so long I thought he'd fallen asleep, but then he spoke again.
"Can you play?"
I looked back over to him and found him lying on his side with his drowsy eyes fixated on me. His voice was so thick with sleep I doubted it'd take long before he was asleep for real.
"I'm no concert pianist, that's for sure," I teased. "But my mom taught me to play when I was little. I don't totally suck."
Steele murmured a sound, his lids drooping shut. "Play me something," he mumbled.
My brows shot up, but his eyes were already closed. It'd been years since I'd played the piano, so I was bound to be rusty. I'd heard Steele play; he was like a fucking piano prodigy. How embarrassing to muddle my way through “Ode To Joy” while he was listening and cringing every time I hit the wrong key. I couldn't...
"Please, Hellcat?" he added in a sleepy whisper, and my heart melted. I couldn't fucking deny him. Taking a deep breath, I searched my brain for something to play. Of course, now that I needed to think of the notes, they were all gone from my brain. So I glanced at the handwritten sheets scattered on Steele's desk, and slowly, quietly, I started playing from that.
Soon I was able to shake off my awkwardness and lose myself in the melody that he'd written, appreciating the beauty of it even as my fingers created the sound. The steady rhythm of Steele's breathing acted as my metronome, and I kept playing long after he’d fallen asleep.
When I stopped, something had shifted inside me. Somehow, without even being awake, Steele had helped me find a small measure of closure with my deceased mother. Somehow, the dark streak across my soul had lightened a fraction, and my mind felt at ease for it.
22
After I was certain Steele was fully asleep, I tiptoed out of his room and went in search of food. My stomach was grumbling with embarrassing volume, and my blood was screaming for coffee.
I passed Karen on her way out of the kitchen, and she gave me a kind smile.
"I left you some breakfast, just in case," she told me, placing a hand on my arm, "and James brought a package in for you. I left it on the counter."
I thanked her and wished her a good day, vaguely recalling James was the name of the new groundskeeper my father had hired while I was in Cambodia. I still hadn't met him personally, but given the immaculate condition of the grounds—when they weren't blanketed in snow—he must be hardworking. All the staff lived off-site, with the exception of Steinwick and Karen, who each had a room in the cottage at the back of the property.
To my disappointment, the kitchen wasn't unoccupied.
A surly, brooding bad boy covered in ink and sweat was draped all over one of the barstools, and I heaved a sigh. Briefly, I considered turning around and walking out again, but he'd seen me and I refused to back down to his superiority complex.
"Nice shiner," I sneered when his eyes met mine across the kitchen, one of which was surrounded by some heavy purple and blue bruising. Kody hadn't held back, that was for sure.
"Nice tits," he replied, his cold smile elaborating on that for me. He wasn't talking about right now, drowned in Steele’s hoodie that I'd commandeered. He was referring to when I'd been spread out naked on the kitchen island with Kody's dick deep inside me.
I hadn't flinched away from his gaze then, and I didn't flinch now. Instead, I just leaned across the island, propped my face up on my hands, and batted my lashes at him.
"You know, you're really starting to reek of desperation and jealousy, Archer. If you want me so badly, maybe try a personality adjustment? Then maybe you'd stand a chance of getting what Kody got all morning... then again in the shower." I dragged my teeth over my lower lip, letting the pure lust of those memories show on my face. Archer—for all his stoic resolve to remain unaffected—couldn't stop the flash of desire from crossing his face. He wanted me, he just didn't want to want me, and that was what had me morbidly curious. "Then again, maybe not. Not all sins of the past can be forgiven with repentance."
Archer's glare flattened to something cold and dangerous. "You certainly seemed to forgive Kody easily this morning. Or were you just that eager for dick that you didn't care where it came from?"
I gave a cold laugh, moving around the island as I made my way over to the coffee machine.
"Don't be silly, Archer. Right now, I wouldn't touch your dick with someone else's pussy, let alone my own." I flipped the espresso machine on, letting it warm up as I drummed my fingertips on the counter. I didn't bother turning around to throw my insults at Archer because why the fuck should I waste the energy? But also, if I were to say that to his face, he'd likely see the lie written all over me.
A scraping of chair legs against tiles was the only warning I got before his huge frame bracketed me, his hands braced on the counter on either side of me and his hot breath on my neck. Suddenly I was cursing my decision to put my hair in a ponytail before coming downstairs. He wasn't touching me, not even a finger, but I could feel him over every fucking inch of me.