Grand Lies by JC Hawke

10

Nina

He askedme not to make him wait, so naturally, it made me want to take my time. Soaking in a cloud of bubbles, three quarters of the champagne obliterated, I pop a chocolate truffle into my mouth. Tilting my head back against the rim of the sunken bathtub, I let the silky-smooth treat melt down my throat.

I’ve been no more than an hour—I’m sure of it. But as the rapping of his knuckles echoes off the smooth marble suite, I jump, legs slipping from the edge and champagne spilling over my breasts.

“Shit!”

“Nina? Are you okay in there?”

“Uh, yeah, just a sec!” I climb from the bath, wrapping myself in a towel and padding over to the door.

Swinging open the door, I find him on the threshold, arms crossed over his chest and looking down his nose at me. I shouldn’t laugh, but he’s mad, and mad Mase is fun to play with.

“Hello.” I smile, looking up through my brows seductively.

His head lowers, his eyes creasing in the corners as he watches me. “You’re late.”

I lift his wrist, checking the time. I don’t miss the immaculate black shirt, dark jeans and that smell. God, he smells edible. If possible, his eyebrows drop even lower.

“I have five minutes until seven thirty.”

“You were still in the bath.”

“Sorry, Mr Lowell.” I pout, leaning into his big body. “You want to wait whilst I finish up?”

“No,” he answers quickly.

I shrug. “Okay. Close the door on your way out.”

* * *

Mase

She’s pushing it.Pushing me and she knows it. She’s loving this. And so am. Fucking. I.

“Nina,” I warn as she turns from me, dropping her towel in the next second. “Fuck!” I groan, my fingers in a white-knuckle grip on the doorframe.

“Come on, Mase. We can go out later.” She eyes me over her shoulder.

“No, get dressed. Now,” I demand.

She has no idea how fucking gorgeous she is. This is the first time I’ve seen her fully naked, always having something between us. Yet she is everything I imagined and more. My eyes try to take in every inch of her, but they are drawn to the curve of her hips. That ass. Do not turn the fuck around. Worse, she bends, picking up the champagne at her feet. Her perfect pink pussy is on full display, and it’s over, my control gone. I’m behind her in two strides, one hand around her throat, the other cupping her cunt.

“You changed your mind.” She smiles.

I apply the slightest of pressure to her throat while squeezing her clit tight between my fingers. “You want to play, Pixie?” I say, sliding in three fingers without warning, pulling her ass back and hard onto my throbbing cock.

She gasps, her head falling to my shoulder, her body writhing against me. “Yes!”

I drop my hand before she can rub herself towards orgasm. “Bed. Now,” I ground out, spinning her to face me.

It takes every bit of my strength not to pull her puckered nipple into my mouth because if I do, I won’t stop, and I can’t fuck her in my bathroom right now. She smiles lazily up at me, and I worry she might have drunk too much.

I bend, lifting her over my shoulder and then carry her out to my bed.

“Fucking hell, Nina,” I rasp, looking down at her lying naked on my sheets. She drops her knees to the mattress, baring herself to me. My hands link together behind my neck as I fight to keep in control.

I don’t want to rush this.

Dropping my hands to her spread legs, I smooth them up her thighs.

“Is this for me?” I ask, dipping my thumb inside her tight little cunt.

“Hmmm,” she purrs.

“Nina,” I whisper, waiting for her eyes to find mine before leaning over her. I rub my thumb along her bottom lip, smearing her desire over the pouty flesh. Her tongue darts out to swipe away the saltiness, but I’m already there, licking and sucking at what’s meant for me.

Only me.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she pants between kisses. “I need you bare.”

Her words set something off inside me—something primal. The thought of having her again—nothing between us—has my throat working on a deep growl.

Leaning up, she grips my shirt between her fists, then she pulls at the fabric to rip it open. It doesn’t budge.

I smile down at the little spitfire, knowing what she wants but can’t manage herself. Slowly, I ease off of her, standing at my full height. I pop open the first two buttons, then rip the expensive as shit material straight down the middle, buttons flying off all over the room.

“Happy?” I ask, staring down at her, feeling like a caveman.

“You know I’m not,” she says with a suggestive smile.

“On your knees now,” I snap, making her squeal when I grab her ankle and flip her.

She goes to pull her legs up under her, but I’m already there. I drag her up by the hips, setting her on her knees.

“Don’t move.”

She shivers as my hands leave her. “Mase!”

“Don’t. Move.”

The room falls silent, and I stand watching her, slowly shedding my clothes until I’m naked. Completely bare. I drop to my knees on the floor, my mouth salivating at the need to taste her. She sucks in a breath as my index finger trails from the top of her spine to the curve of her ass.

I glide it down over her, pausing at her rear entrance.

Just, the slightest, of, pressur—

“Mase,” she panics.

I chuckle, sliding lower until I am sinking into her. Deep down to my knuckle. I give her three slow pumps, watching mesmerised as she sucks me into her heat.

“So greedy.”

I pull my fingers out, planting my face exactly where it belongs. I suck on her slit long and hard as she tries to pull away from me, my arm wrapping around her waist to keep her exactly where I want her.

She moans my name, soft whimpers that have my cock throbbing with the need to be inside her. I plunge my tongue relentlessly into her, not stopping until she’s screaming into the sheets, body shaking and her cum is dripping to my chest.

Her body drops lax to the bed as I rise to stand above her. She twists, looking up at me, spent.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” I promise, my hand moving up and down my length.

She scoots to the edge of the bed, her lips parted and eager to please.

I shake my head, smiling as I push her down to the mattress. “I won’t last long in there, angel.”

I settle between her legs, palming her cheek as I thrust into her heat, every solid inch, my pelvis rolling over her sensitive clit. It’s enough to set her off again, her pussy clenching my cock in a death grip.

“Fuck!” I groan. “Or in there. Shit, Nina.” I search her eyes, but she is completely lost to her own pleasure.

My hips start to pound against her, my hands going to the backs of her knees to guide her body to mine. She seems to regain some composure and reaches between us, grabbing my balls and rolling them between her fingers.

I pull out, flipping her to her front again and meeting her hips as they rise to meet mine.

“Oh my god!” she cries, sinking her face into the sheet again.

I don’t stop, don’t ease up or relent until I get a tingling in the base of my spine, my toes curling into the carpet at my feet as my muscles lock tight.

“Fuck!” I growl, throwing my head back as I empty myself inside her.

Again.

* * *

Nina

My body liesspent beneath him, struggling to take his weight but too addicted to make him move. My initial plan was to prove a point. His gifts felt too much, too over the top.

“Why so serious?” He smiles into my neck, pulling out of me and rolling me so I’m on top of him.

A wave of panic floods me. Uncontrollable emotions I won’t ignore.

I can’t accept his gifts.

I climb off the bed, grabbing my towel to cover myself. “Mase, I don’t want your money. I don’t want you to buy me things.”

He sits up on his elbows, confusion marring his beautiful face. “It was only a bit of body wash, Nina, something you could wear to dinner.”

It was so much more than that, and he knows it. Who shops for a woman he’s just met? “No. It kept me here for the day, gave you the control you wanted.”

“And? Are you really calling me out on buying you nice things?” he questions, still lying gloriously naked. His cock sits heavy against his abdomen, already becoming hard again.

Stay strong, Nina.

“I’m calling you out on… on…” I huff, losing my train of thought.

Fuck it.

I drop my towel hoping it renders him just as stupid as he does me.

I walk to the bed and straddle him, dropping myself down onto his length until my ass hits his muscular thighs.

He growls, bringing his head to mine, but I don’t let him have the connection. I push him back to the bed, towering over him.

“I’m calling you out on keeping me here all day, alone, whilst you buggered off doing God knows what.” I rise to my knees, leaving only the tip left inside me.

The cords in his neck strain as he looks down at the place our bodies meet, desperate for me to take him. “You bought me that stuff so I wouldn’t need to go home today, yes?”

“Yes! I stand by that decision,” he argues.

I lower my knees a fraction before letting him slide out of me completely. “Wrong answer.” I smile.

“Fuck! Ride me, and I won’t buy you another gift ever again.”

His boyish plea has me relenting, but I want to get my point across.

Feeling ungrateful, I lean over him, still keeping our pelvises apart. “I’m thankful, truly I am. This is probably what most girls dream of, but it’s not what I want.” I smile sadly, wishing I wasn’t such a screwup.

His hand comes up, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “What do you want, angel?” he asks, his face growing serious.

Grasping his cock between us, I line him up, hesitating for just a second. “Right now? You.”

He lifts his hips, entering me on one swift thrust.

* * *

The light smellof smoke wakes me in the early hours, and I roll into the body beside me, not fully comprehending the smell.

He is so warm, so solid. It makes me feel safe.

But I can smell smoke, and I’m hungry. Really flipping hungry. The growl of my stomach has my legs untangling from Mason’s and carrying me from the bedroom.

We got a little carried away last night, completely giving up on our date by nine. I should feel bad, but I don’t. He should have let me go home and get myself ready.

Maybe I wouldn’t have freaked out.

I sneak from the room and start down the curved staircase, my feet coming to an abrupt halt halfway down. My breath catches in my throat as my heart somehow slows and speeds up within the same beat.

The entire ground floor is lit in candlelight, every surface littered with a warm glow that mirrors the London skyline beyond. Slowly, I descend the final steps, trying not to think about the man lying in bed upstairs.

Instead, I try to see the room as only an observer and not the recipient of such a beautiful, thoughtful gesture. This isn’t for me. The dining table is set for two, champagne on what would have been ice bobs in the chilled water. An extravagant bunch of white roses sits in an arrangement in the centre. I can smell them mixed with the smoke from neglected candles.

I notice a square box sitting on one of the place settings. This isn’t for me. Then it’s in my hand. The lid popped open before I can even think twice about it.

The most beautiful gold bangle sits on a cushioned ring. It’s simple, with just one lone diamond sparkling at the clasp. It’s stunning, personal, and something I’d buy for myself.

I glance in the direction of the stairs, unable to keep him out any longer. He consumes me in every way imaginable. My thoughts, actions, even my body. He shouldn’t be the driving force behind my decisions, but he’s becoming something my head cowers to and my heart craves.

I snap the box closed, placing it back on the place setting and walk to the lounge area.

Scattered pillows surround a tray of strawberries, chocolate, and roses. Regret gnaws at me. God, I was such a bitch before, moaning about him buying me gifts. It may be over the top, but he wanted to do this for me.

My stomach growls again, reminding me it needs feeding. Feeling like a child who might get caught, I sit on the cushioned floor, my back to the sofa as I inhale the plate of strawberries.

I don’t hear him at first, but when I spot his feet beside me from the corner of my eye, I start to savour the strawberry in my hand—accentuating every delicious bite, letting the juice run from my lips.

Simply because I choose heart. I choose chocolate-covered strawberries. I choose the man who wants to give me his time. I choose Mason Lowell. At least for tonight.

I plant my knees in front of him as he stands gloriously naked, looking down on me. My body stirs with arousal at the dark look in his eyes.

“Were we even going to go out tonight?” I ask.

His hands cup my jaw as he bends, licking up my chin and into my mouth, sucking my lip hard before righting himself again.

I take that as a no.

My tongue darts out, finding the remnants of strawberries, and I pull my lip into my mouth, sucking all the sweetness I can from them.

His cock twitches in appreciation, precum leaking from the tip.

“I’m not sure strawberries and salt mix,” I say, looking up through my lashes and his muscular body ripples under my lustful stare.

He doesn’t answer me, fisting his length at the base and dragging the tip across my mouth, painting my lips with his excitement.

I roll them, resisting the urge to lick his taste from them. “Mase, speak to me.”

“I am,” he says, grasping my chin and pushing the head of his cock against my teeth. “I want you to open up for me.”

His words stab me in the gut.

He wants me to open up for him.

I just don’t know how.

Beyond Luce and Megan, I don’t allow anyone to creep past the hard shell I’ve spent years creating. Dancing has always been my expression. I use it to let everything out without words.

So I show him the only way I know how and plead with him with my eyes to let it be enough.

Darting out my tongue, I swipe him from my lips, watching him as my mouth forms around his tip. He groans loudly, his knees dipping as he scrapes my hair from my neck and pulls it into one hand, winding the soft strands around his fist.

It’s a power play, and I want it. I want him and his threat to control me, but only here. He can control every part of my pleasure—of his. But nothing else.

He lifts my chin. “Keep your eyes on me,” he manages, voice gruff.

He starts to thrust his hips, hitting the back of my throat on every stroke, slowly getting deeper and deeper.

I smile around him, making his eyes darken. He shakes his head before looking away from me. “Baby, don’t give me that smile.”

“Mmmmm,” I murmur, his cock lodged in my throat, causing my voice to vibrate around him.

“Fuck,” he snaps. The hold on my hair intensifies as he winds it even tighter, his hips thrusting even faster, harder, unapologetically. His eyes find mine again, and realisation flashes across his face as I struggle to take him. I may be the one on my knees, with his hold on my hair, but he isn’t in control either. It’s been lost in the moment, a free-for-all as he fights my reflexes for release.

Forcing myself back, I drop to the floor, knowing he will follow, and he does. He doesn’t hesitate, lining himself up and thrusting inside me.

“Dripping. Fucking. Wet,” he rasps.

He starts to roll his hips into me, lifting my leg over his forearm to get to the perfect spot. “Mase! You feel so good,” I moan.

His eyes find mine, softening instantly, then his lips drop to mine, and he takes my mouth in a beautiful, slow kiss.

My leg falls to the side and he stills inside me, his arm still draped under my bent leg. His hand comes around and grasps my wrist in a stronghold. Our breathing is erratic, the only other noise between our deep, sucking kisses.

My body aches to have him, wanting more and less, and for this feeling never to end. “Mase, move. Please,” I beg, clenching around him.

A growl rumbles through his chest as he brings my arms up and around his shoulders, locking them behind his neck to keep him close. He gives me exactly what I want, rolling his hips perfectly until my body locks tight and pressure builds at my core. And he knows it. His hand comes down, planting itself over my clit, tipping me over the edge and letting me free fall.

The primal need that comes over me has me focusing on nothing but the rising, inexplicable wave that’s coursing through my body. I feel nothing and everything all at once as my walls squeeze and relax in unison, my sex sucking him in deeper with its hungry release.

He stands, still buried deep inside me, my body wrapped around him. He sits down on the sofa, my body straddling his. “Fuck me, Pixie,” he whispers.

The position has me sinking farther onto him, aftershocks still rippling through my core. “I can feel you, baby,” he groans, his mouth sucking at my throat.

I begin to roll my hips. Hard. Deep. A small circle.

His head comes up and he looks at me, his hair a dishevelled mess. “I might just keep you. Don’t fucking stop,” he says, planting a chaste kiss on my lips.

Using all the energy I have left, I ride him, working my hips under his hold to get him to the point of ecstasy. He comes inside of me, groaning out my name as his mouth falls from my puckered nipple.

His body shakes as his face nuzzles into my chest.

I go to speak, but nothing comes out. Reaching up instead, I run my hand through his smooth hair. My eyes catch a gold glint behind his head. I pull my wrist forward, looking over the gold band that now adorns my wrist.

“I’ll send everything else back,” he says, looking up at me with hesitant eyes. “But keep that. Please.”

“I could get used to those manners, Bossman.” I smile, giving him a long, lazy kiss.

* * *

We lieon the cushioned floor wrapped in a soft woollen blanket, my body curled into Mason’s side. My body feels lax, but there’s still an ache pulsing through my entire body, reminding me of the incredible night we’re leaving behind.

I lift my head from Mason’s chest, stealing a piece of cheese from the platter he’d made earlier. “How long did you spend getting all this ready today?” I ask, gesturing around the room.

The majority of the candles are burnt out with wax pooling on the hardwood floors.

“Hours,” he says dramatically.

I chuckle, licking the salt from my lips. “It’s beautiful. No one has ever treated me like this. It could be the best date I’ve ever been on, you know. Definitely the best sex for a first date.”

“Just the first date, huh, like you’ve had better?” he mutters, feigning hurt but still smiling. “How bad did you feel? Coming downstairs and seeing all my hard work?”

I bring a piece of cheese to his mouth, letting my finger linger as his tongue comes out to swipe it. “I really did feel bad. I just…”

“I know, you don’t want me to buy you things,” he finishes for me.

“Mase. My mum, she wasn’t the best role model growing up. The thought of becoming her—”

“You’re nothing like your mother, Nina!”

“Uh, no. I’m not,” I say, confused by his tone and that he thinks he knows me well enough to form an opinion. “But I promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn’t rely on anyone else, and I won’t be bought with shiny things. I know you have money, and I appreciate the gesture. It’s all so thoughtful. I just, I feel uncomfortable with you spending money on me. It’s not why I’m here.”

“When was the last time you saw your mother?” he asks, completely changing the subject. I just hope he is listening.

“Two years ago. She overdosed. Ended up in hospital for a week.”

He shakes his head at my confession, my honesty shocking me. “You shouldn’t have to deal with it alone. What you’ve been through...” he says, fiddling with my bangle.

What I’ve been through? “How do you know I was alone?”

“Were you?”

Asshole. My body locks up as I resist the urge to bolt. “Mase, what’s my mother’s name?” I ask, looking down at him.

“What?”

I wait, not saying a word.

He knows I know.

“Sarah Leigh Anderson,” he eventually says, his eyes wild as he gauges my reaction.

I drop my head to his chest, looking away from him. His muscles relax in what I presume is relief as his arms come around me.

He thinks he knows. The arrests, hospital admissions, the tip-offs from neighbours to social services—it’s only the half of it.

“Say something,” I whisper.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for, Mason?”

“Everything you have been through. Everything you continue to go through.”

I roll my eyes, already over this pity party. “My childhood wasn’t all bad, you’ve just invaded the bad bits—and that’s exactly what you’ve done so don’t try to deny it. I lived with Lucy’s parents, Maggie, you met her, and John. They took me in at eight. I was between my mums and theirs until uni after that. They made sure I was sheltered from it, somewhat.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his lips in a tight line. “If she mistreated you so badly, then why do you pay her? Why not cut her off?”

I recoil at his words. “What? Jesus, Mason. How deep did you go?” I yell.

“I wasn’t going to look, but I had no way of getting hold of you. Nina, you’ve transferred your mother nearly fourteen thousand pounds in the last four years!”

He goes to grab me, but I’m already up, the blanket wrapped around me as he tries to do what they all do. Lucy, Maggie, John they think they know best.

They don’t.

“Leave it, Mase, it’s none of your business!” I head for the kitchen, knowing I need to calm down and put some space between us.

It’s only because he cares, Nina.

They all care. It’s my biggest war, and I fight it against myself: To defend someone who doesn’t care to people who only want what’s best for me.

“Fair, it’s not my business. But you’re going to run your studio into the ground if you don’t start paying more off your business loan soon, you’re struggling to keep your head above water as it is.”

The sharp slap of my hand against his cheek resounds off every inch of the penthouse. We stand toe to toe, his nostrils flaring as his rage seeps out of the red on his face.

“Fuck you!” I roar, tears stinging my eyes. “Mason, by all means, fuck me. Fuck every inch of me until I have nothing else left to give, but stay the fuck out of my life. My studio. My business.”

He scoffs, looking up the stairs then back to me again. “So you’ll give me your body, but that’s it, that’s all I get? I guess the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

He drops his head to his chest the moment the words are out. And that’s the thing with words; once they are spoken, they can’t be unheard, forgotten.

“My mother did that,” I whisper, a tear running into the seam of my lips. “She never lay a finger on me.” Not herself anyway. “But sometimes, I wish she had—it probably would have hurt less. But no, she’s just like you.” I tip my chin. “She used her words to break me.”

“Nina, I didn’t—”

“Leave me the fuck alone.”

I run up the stairs, bypassing his bedroom and rush to the room Lucy and Megan had stayed in last night. Crawling under the sheets, I let the pain in my chest bleed out through old wounds—memories from my childhood at the centre of my thoughts.

I drift off to sleep hours later, the pillow wet with tears, and my heart empty.