Little Lies Elena Reyes (book recommendations based on other books .TXT) 📖

me on. The hissed curses beneath me bring me closer and closer, and just as I’m on the precipice, he bites my neck.

“Oh my God!” Every nerve ending in my body locks down, and it’s near painful to move as the first wave of pleasure washes over me. “Theo...I can’t...fuck!”

“My beautiful girl,” he grunts, thrusting harder, slicing through my lips at a faster pace as his come mixes with my own. Each spurt feels like a hot kiss to my clit, marking me as his. Strong hands pull me down so we’re chest to chest, his guttural groans reverberating through me and spreading, prolonging my release. “Always mine.”

“Yours.” Snuggling into him, I close my eyes and breathe him in. The minutes pass like this and he never complains, letting me relax until the last aftershock rocks my frame and I can find my strength. “I’m going to head up now and take that shower.”

His chuckle makes me smirk. “My apologies for holding you back.”

“Don’t worry. This is the best kind of delay.”

After taking a quick shower, I come downstairs still feeling light as a feather and calm. My red hair is wet, the tendrils sticking to my back, and I’m wearing a lilac crop top sans bra. I’m dressed to relax and then bed, but what I find at the bottom of the stairs is a tense man who eyes me with hunger.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, stopping on the same step he made me come on.

He notices this, and the harsh look melts into a sly grin. “Yes and no.”

“That makes no sense.”

“It does to me.” He takes the steps between us, stopping when we’re almost eye to eye. “Yes, because you’re here. Because I can still smell you all around me.”

I swallow hard. “And the no?”

“Because unfortunately, I need to leave.” Disappointment fills me but I shake it off, keeping my expression neutral. “I’m sorry, love. There’s been a family emergency that needs my immediate attention.”

Family. Of course he has one. I just never asked. He didn’t offer either, but what if—

“Are you married?” I blurt out, my chest caving in at the mere thought. How could he? How could I? “Am I…?”

“You’re the only,” he says, his hands coming up to cup my cheeks. His touch is comforting, gentle and caring. Moreover, there’s this exciting spark flowing through his touch. It’s pleasant and fills my chest with warmth. I like it. Him. And everything he represents, even though my life isn’t in any place where I should pursue a relationship. “That will never change, Gabriella. Please believe me on this.”

“I do.” Blindly. Stupidly. With him, I find myself following my intuition with caution. “So your family? Are they okay?”

“Just a minor incident that needs to be cleaned up.”

“Cleared up, you mean?”

“No.” With his eyes on my face, he pulls me to the edge of the steps and against his lips. Once. Twice. His sweeps them back and forth before pausing. “Cleaned up is the right terminology in this instance. Someone has been hurt, and it’s up to me to clear their name and forcefully right this wrong.”

“Forcefully? Are you going to fight someone?”

“It would never be a fair fight.” Dropping his hands, Theo steps back and puts a bit of space between us. “Now, I’ll be out of the city limits, but Tero and Meera are only a phone call away. They know to stay vigilant and come right away if anything happens.”

“That’s not—”

“It’s for my peace of mind. Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, beautiful.” His eyes travel slowly from my hair to toes and back up again twice, unapologetic in his actions. “I’ll be back soon. Staying away isn’t an option.”

“Then I’ll hold you to that.” It’s a breathy whisper and his hands clench, nose flaring once before he turns to leave. Theo doesn’t look back, and I’m left a little achy, needy, and decide to go to sleep instead of watching TV.

The sooner I go to sleep, the sooner he’s back.

30

Gabriella

After locking the front door and checking all the others on this floor, I make myself a cup of tea and head upstairs. The house is quiet. I’m missing the tinkling of Mr. Pickles’s collar and small nails on my floor. I’m missing the calm—peace—that being home once brought me.

But now that I’m alone, I see the differences. Take note of the endless quiet. Understand how no one would hear my scream if something were to happen.

It hits me, now that Theo isn’t standing as my protector, how much has been taken from me. My security. My mental health. The ability to walk around my home without looking behind me or outside the windows.

“I hate this,” I say out loud, my hands trembling a bit. The longer I stand in front of my bedroom door, the more uncomfortable I feel.

My mind flicks through the last few weeks; a sick movie reel flipping through each horrific moment. Tim. The snake. The picture of the dead body and the words attached, and each one has this house as the common link.

I should sell. Get out and don’t look back.

But what would that solve?

Am I really being stalked, or is this a fucked-up coincidence? Why aren’t the police making a bigger deal out of it?

I’m alone.

“I need to work. Keep busy.” Because there’s no way I’ll go to sleep anytime soon. The what ifs will keep me from doing so. “Work. Set up and work.”

Turning away from my door, I walk to my studio and turn on the lights. Everything’s where I left it, with a painting still on the easel and each color I’ll need on the small table next to it. However, my water cups for dirty brushes are empty, and before I fill them, I decide to open the window.

It’s warm in here. A bit stuffy, and I don’t hesitate to spread the curtains apart and lift the pane. And it’s as I do, that I look across the yard and find