Lies and Other Drugs (Lies Trilogy Book 1) Page 11

  Chapter 15

  The restaurant where Samuel asked me to meet him was owned by his parents. I knew this because when I first started researching him, he’d been tagged in photos with numerous dates, all of them boasting about their romantic night at one of the most exclusive restaurants in New York. My deep burgundy dress matched my lipstick called, “Lady Danger.” And I made sure to wear an unimpressed expression when he met me outside; people that thought highly of themselves needed to be kept in check sometimes. I liked to keep him humble by not reacting the way he expected. His hair was combed in that way that looked effortless but probably cost a good fifty bucks when he got it trimmed. He was wearing a suit that, in my opinion, looked cut a bit too tight, highlighting his muscles and broad shoulders but looking stiff and uncomfortable. Completely unlike the comfortable jeans and t-shirts that Noah usually wore.

  Why was I thinking of him? Get it together, girl.

  “Hey, Octavia,” he said with a practiced smirk as he looked me up and down. “You look beautiful.” My dress was deep and red and sexy. The fabric criss-crossed at the chest, and it was so short that one wide step would give the entire restaurant a peep show.

  When we went inside, the hostess was tripping over her tits to help him, ushering us to one of the nicest tables in the back. I stared with interest at the flame of a candle flickering in the middle of the table. It moved as bustling waiters rushed by carrying large platters of food. We both sat down, Samuel doing that practiced polite move of helping me into my seat, like I wasn't capable of lowering my ass into a wooden chair by myself.

  “I’m glad you came. I was worried that you wouldn’t want to see me again,” he said while looking down at the silverware. He brushed his thumb along the steak knife before straightening it.

  “I wanted answers. And to explore those nice little toys you keep in the top drawer of your dresser. I’m particularly interested in the handcuffs.” A waitress was standing near, eyes wide in half shock and half embarrassment as she poured us some of the expensive house wine. Samuel merely smiled at me, unfazed by my confident behavior. I had nothing to hide, and he liked being known for his sexual prowess.

  “I’d love to show you more…” he said while leaning over the table, hungry eyes looking at my cleavage then fluttering back to my face. “But first, we’ll have the porterhouse steak,” he added before staring at the poor woman taking our order.

  “Yes, Mr. Smith,” she said before hurrying away.

  “So who is she? How does she have that much influence?” I asked before taking a sip of wine. It had a woody taste and a heady aftertaste. I wasn’t usually one to indulge, but I wanted to know what liquid five hundred dollars tasted like.

  “I don’t want to divulge too much. But she’s pretty influential at the school,” Samuel explained. There was a small bead of sweat on his temple and a slight tremble in his fingers as he reached for his glass and took an artful sip, swirling the maroon liquid around the glass like he knew what the fuck he was doing. He puckered his lips and smiled, like he could taste the money he just dropped. It was similar to the way mom could tell the difference between good and bad crack. I guess anyone could be a snob, just depended on the vice. “She’ll be there tomorrow night, actually,” he said then winced, as if realizing he shouldn’t have said that.

  “What’s tomorrow night?”

  “A scholarship event. President Robinson announces the recipients of the Annual Blackwood Scholarship. No one ever really needs the money, but it’s a fun way for people’s egos to get boosted.”

  I nodded, understanding. Guess I was going to a scholarship event tomorrow, too. “Is that really all you’re going to give me? So Young has to fuck an old lady all because of a stupid test he stole for you?” I asked. “What is she, like obsessed? Lonely?” I wanted to understand her motives—so I could use them against her.

  Samuel looked around, not necessarily embarrassed but still concerned that someone could hear us. “Well, at first, it wasn’t much of an inconvenience,” Samuel explained while leaning a bit. I’d noticed his posture always sank when we discussed hard topics. It was his tell. “It wasn’t until William showed up that Nathaniel started to resent their arrangement.”

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that Samuel was a bit resentful, too. William was ruining a cushy arrangement that Samuel benefitted from. He quickly recovered. “Not that it was a bad thing. It just got complicated. She was much more attached than Nathaniel was. It wasn’t even about an arrangement anymore. Genuine feelings were involved.” That made sense. I could see how someone would fall for Young. He was kind and determined. Sexy. Confident. If I had to guess, I’d bet he was great in bed.

  “Are you going to tell me her name?” I asked. It wouldn’t be hard to find her on my own, but I wouldn’t mind the added help. I still couldn’t ignore that nagging sensation that I knew her somehow. I’d seen her. Not just from the auction. She looked eerily familiar.

  “No.”

  “Are you going to fuck me senseless tonight?”

  “Absolutely,” Samuel growled. Such a pretty boy. Growling and all possessive like. I didn’t like wine, but it was staining his lips a nice shade of deep red, and I wanted a taste. Our food arrived, and we both ate, neither of us talking because this was the part of the date we didn’t really care about. I came here for answers and an orgasm. I didn’t want polite dinners where we discussed our dreams, aspirations, pasts, and fears.

  I was taking a bite of expensive, overcooked green beans when a tall shadow stood over our table. Long legs covered by dark denim were muscular. He looked dangerous with green eyes and a deep scowl. His lean body was tattooed, and he chewed on his lip ring while staring at Samuel. “Hey there, Smith.” His voice sounded like three a.m. and whiskey. Sexy. Tempting.

  Samuel went rigid, staring up at the intruder with angry eyes. “Renon. How’d you get in?” Samuel asked while looking at me. I could smell the bad blood a mile away and knew that a showdown was eminent. Things definitely just got my kind of interesting.

  “I’m fucking the hostess,” Renon replied with a smile that accentuated his lip ring. He was hot, in that dangerous don’t-give-a-fuck kind of way. I shifted in my seat, and Renon’s eyes widened when he saw me. There was a vulnerability in his expression I couldn’t quite place.

  “Octavia? Octavia Wilson?” he asked, and the way he said my name made a shiver travel down my spine. I wasn’t the type to like being caught off guard, and everything about Renon had me on the edge of my seat.

  “Depends on who’s asking.”

  Samuel stood in his seat and waved over a waiter before grabbing my hand and yanking me to a standing position. I accidentally bumped the table, knocking over the expensive wine and causing a red stain to cover the white tablecloth.

  I reached over to clean up the mess, but Samuel kept his grip on my wrist firm. “Please escort this man out of here.” Samuel was nearly drenched in sweat now. Renon had him nervous, and I wanted to know why.

  I scowled, not really understanding but definitely not liking that Samuel was bossing me around. Jerking back, I pulled out of his grasp to assess Renon once more. “Do I know you?” I asked.

  Samuel got more flustered. “Octavia, please. I’m trying to protect you.” Pretty boy, always trying to save me. Was it because he couldn’t save himself? I started doing that manic laugh thing again, you know the one. Where I couldn’t stop. “I don’t need protecting, Samuel.”

  Renon looked at me like I was a treat. Every time I stepped away from Samuel, his grin grew. My defiance was turning him on, and I could relate to the fetish. Rebellion made me ravenous.

  “Octavia. Please go outside. I’ll call you a cab. I need to deal with this privately.”

  I turned to Renon and stared. “Do I know you?” I asked once again.

  “You look good, Tav,” he said, and my stomach dropped. That nickname. That goddamn nickname was like a beacon to who was in William's life and who was just an acquai
ntance.

  “I do what I can. You keep avoiding my question. How do you know Samuel here?” I asked while turning to look at pretty boy. He looked tortured and murderous.

  “Honestly? I don’t really know him at all. I knew William, though,” he replied just as two strong men from the kitchens approached and grabbed his arms. I opened my mouth to protest, I wanted to know how he knew my brother, but Samuel was pulling me away. And under different circumstances, I would have fought my way back to Renon and asked what he knew. I was strong, right? I could have stayed and learned more about William.

  But I’d been learning a lot lately, and I was scared to meet another person that ruined my perceptions of my relationship with William. I didn’t want to think that there was someone else in the world that knew him better than I did. I’d already suffered enough disappointment lately when it came to him.

  Renon was yelling at our backs as Samuel frantically guided me outside. “You will pay up, Smith. One way or another!”

  I got in the cab, not really listening to Samuel’s excuses. “I’m sorry, Octavia. I promise to make this up to you. Renon and I just have some bad blood. He thinks I owe him money.”

  I nodded, not really caring about their feud or the fact that my dinner date was over. I wasn’t really here because I cared about Samuel. He’d always been a means to an end. So when the door shut, instead of telling the driver to take me back to the hotel where I knew Noah was waiting for me, ready to welcome me with loving arms, I gave him the address for Young’s apartment in the Upper East Side. I was in the mood to be greeted with hate.

  Chapter 16

  I wasn’t sure if he’d be there or if he was with the murdering bitch, but I knocked on their apartment door and smiled when he opened it shirtless. “Catch you at a bad time?” I asked while pushing past him and waltzing inside. I made sure to brush against his chest with my fingers, lingering in the touch just long enough to make us both feel like shit.

  William always wanted my boyfriends. Maybe it was my turn to want one of his. “I was sleeping,” he answered as I pulled up a kitchen chair and sat down in it, crossing my legs as my burgundy dress rose up, showing the tops of my thighs.

  “It’s a bit early. Your little fuck buddy keeping you up late? Does she have to sneak out after her husband passes out for the night? Does she drug him like she drugged William?” I asked. My purse then fell from my lap onto the tile floor, the heavy gun in it sounding loud as it landed on the tile. A part of me wished it had gone off.

  “What are you even talking about, Tav?” he asked with a frown while crossing his arms over his chest. I licked my lips, savoring how delicious he looked. That familiar feeling of obsession was coming over me. I observed the red in his cheeks. The way his dark hair looked imperfect from sleep. Each rise and fall of his chest grew more and more labored as I stared.

  “I mean, she killed William. It all makes sense now. She was just a jealous lover,” I said with a shrug.

  Young looked at me, hooded eyes traveling up and down my body like he wanted a taste. “Tav, William was depressed. He caught me with another woman. I’d already seen him talking with that drug dealer...Renon.”

  I snapped. Like a rubber band being pulled too tight, the elasticity of my heart broke and bounced, pinching the fists clinging to it. “Say that again?” I asked while standing up. Bending over, I reached inside my purse to pull out the gun.

  Young wasn’t even fucking phased. He saw my clumsy hands grip Mrs. Mulberry’s gun like it meant nothing. “Your brother was self-medicating. Tav, you’ve got to let this go. You’re gonna destroy yourself, too. If I could change what happened, I would. I would have ended things with her. Hell, I wanted to end things that night.”

  I raised my arm up, finger lazily caressing the trigger of a gun I didn’t know how to use. “You think you’re gonna kill me? Then what?” Young asked. He was calling me out on my shit, and I didn’t like it. I talked a big game and brought a big gun, but at the end of the day, could I really put a bullet in his skull?

  “Your affair killed my brother. Think I give a fuck about you? I’ll do it, I really fucking will!” I screamed. He didn’t even flinch; my anger intrigued him more than scared him.

  I looked down at the gun in my hand. It was surprisingly heavy and made my palm itch. “Tell me what happens next, Tav. Tell me what you’re doing here.” His eyes were soft as he pleaded with me. It was so much easier when he was mean. I could handle the anger. I couldn’t handle the compassion.

  They said crimes of passion happened when a person's emotions got the best of them. It should have been easy. Lift the pistol, place it against his temple, and shoot. I had the anger. I had the reason. But death was too quick and permanent. I’d only just started ruining his life.

  “I hate you,” I said, my voice losing some of its previous power. Bile rose in my throat in response to how pathetic I sounded.

  “Just tell me what to do. Tell me what you want, Octavia,” he asked once more. My head snapped up at the use of my real name, and suddenly I knew what would cause him more pain than a bullet through the head. “I just…I just want you to be okay,” he added.

  I steered the conversation away from that dangerous place where his feelings mattered. “If I sucked you off, would you get hard? Would you imagine my brother on his knees in front of you?” I dropped to the floor, my knees landing with a thud. Reaching for his zipper, I licked my lips before looking up to smile at him.

  “I look kind of like my brother, don’t I? Same eyes. Same nose.” Slowly, I lowered his zipper, and a gasp escaped his lips. I couldn’t tell if he was pleased or disgusted, nor did I care. I put my feelings in a pretty little box, tucked away for the day I could handle them. I then dipped my hands behind the waistband of his jeans, smiling a bit when I felt hard, delicious cock.

  “You look nothing like him,” Nathaniel said while grabbing my chin and tilting it up, making me look him in the eye. “’Cause when I fucked your brother, he had love in his eyes. You? You’re empty, Octavia.”

  I stood with a scowl, meeting his challenging stare with one of my own. “Well, then why don’t you fill me up, Young?”

  We. Fucking. Collided.

  Like a meteor falling towards earth, gravity just forcing it down until it was buried deep in the ground. I kissed Young with a boiling hatred that seemed to overflow from both of us. I bit him, hard. I dug my teeth into his neck, feeling the soft way his blood pooled beneath his skin. And when I pulled away, his perfect skin was bruised and spotted. I smiled at it before shoving his chest, pushing him into the wall with a grunt before spitting in my palm and wrapping my fingers around his cock.

  Young closed his eyes, and I squeezed just hard enough to make him uncomfortable. "Don't you fucking close your eyes. You're not going to imagine my brother while I'm touching you. You're gonna see me."

  Young opened his eyes then looked at me with such hatred and peace in his stare that it scared me a little. Stroking him, I kissed his lips again, twisting my tongue with his in a delightful little dance. "I see you, Tav. I see the parts of you he hated," he growled after jerking away from me. Two hands landed on my shoulders, and I was turned around, his hardness digging into my back as he wrapped his arm around my neck and used his free hand to travel up my thigh to caress my wet need. My dress was hiked up and a finger slipped past the barrier of my thong. I let out a moan as he plunged inside of me. In and out he moved as his palm rubbed at my clit.

  "All I feel is you. I feel how wet you are for a man you hate," he teased, and my damn traitorous body quivered, fucking quivered at his words. I straightened my spine and pressed my ass into his hard body.

  "And you're hard for your dead boyfriend's sister,” I replied.

  I felt his lips against the ridge of my ear as he spoke, stroking me to the cusp of oblivion then slowing his pace, refusing my orgasm. Fucker. "Don't you know, Octavia? Your brother was so much more than just my boyfriend. I would have married him," he whispered.
I heard the heartbreak in his voice, the disappointment.

  "Well, you fucked that right up then. Sleeping with a married woman instead of the man you supposedly loved," I said before pulling away. I spun around to face him and slipped out of my dress rather ungracefully. The tight material stuck to my body like even it didn't want me to do this. It was cold in Young’s apartment. Goosebumps pebbled up on my skin.

  "Shut up," he yelled before stepping forward and grabbing my wrists. He kissed me again. I was melting in his arms, my resolve to hate him grasping at my soul like it was all I had left.

  His hands slipped to the clasp on my bra, and in one steady tug, my breasts were free. With a jump, I was in his arms, wrapping my legs around him as he guided me to his room. “I bet you stop this before I do,” he challenged while holding me tightly to his chest.

  When he laid me down on his unmade bed, he took his shirt off and discarded his pants. "Fat chance. This means nothing," I said as he reached over and flipped a picture frame down. I didn't see who was in the photo, but I had a sickening suspicion that it was William.

  "Sure, Tav. You can kill me tomorrow," he said sarcastically while hovering over me and kissing my skin. I felt savored in that moment. And I didn't want to feel savored. I wanted to feel destroyed.

  "Get on with it."

  "No," he whispered over my skin before looking up at me.

  It was the most exquisite form of punishment. I wanted him. I wanted to kill him. "So this is some kind of test? See who will run first?" Young kissed my inner knee. "I'm not going to run," I affirmed, a breathy quality in my tone. "You don't scare me," I finally added as his lips landed on my stomach.

  He looked up at me, dark eyes sparkling. "You done?" he asked in a sarcastic tone that made me want to dick kick him.

  Scowling, I wrapped my hand around his neck and pushed his face down between my thighs. "No. I'm not," I moaned as he swept his tongue over my clit like I wasn't holding him down. He moved with enthusiasm, and I couldn’t help but wonder if this was how it is with her. Eventually, my thighs went slack. I had originally wanted him at my mercy, but somewhere between his mouth and my cunt, there was an exchange of power. Now he was in control, and I was helpless. My body was a selfish traitor, and he had no qualms about claiming whatever parts of me I’d give up.