Filed To Story: Filthy Beautiful Lies Book PDF Free by Kendall Ryan
He chuckles. “True. But it’d give the stogy old men at Collins’ country club something to talk about other than their stock performance.”
I glance longingly over at the built in coffee machine and then down at my empty cup.
Pace’s easy smile is back. God, that thing’s becoming addictive. “C’mere, beautiful. Let me show you.”
He takes the cup from me and sets it down on the tiny platform opening and shows me which buttons to press while muttering to himself about the damn pretentious machine. The options are overwhelming for a simple cup of coffee. I’ve never been good with gadgets and this is like a having a live-in barista. The LED display confirms my order – small coffee and I tap brew on the touch pad. I’m rewarded with the satisfying sound of the coffee beginning to pour into my cup and another one of Pace’s adorable grins.
After adding a splash of milk and a bit of sugar into my coffee, I see Drake enter the kitchen. He’s dressed smartly in dark grey khaki style pants and a white collared shirt that stretches across his muscled chest. Geez, they’re like a polo team – or an advertisement for male cologne. You know, one of those where they’re in white pants with bare feet sailing a yacht, smiling at you with gleaming, straight teeth. Drake’s intense stare that I can feel deep inside me, coupled with Pace’s lopsided smile is, overwhelming.
I set my coffee down on the island with shaking hands as Drake stalks toward me.
Colton
Approaching Sophie where she stands near the kitchen island, it’s impossible to keep my eyes from slipping down over her curves. Her nipples have hardened against the t-shirt she’s wearing. My t-shirt. I don’t like that she’s on display in front of my brothers. And Pace needs to keep his damn eyes to himself. If I see that dumbass dopey grin on his face one more time, I’m going to punch it off.
Looking at her, and imagining what’s under that t-shirt, I struggle to keep my thoughts clean. My mind wanders back to last night when she stripped for me.
At the auction when she kept her arms locked over her breasts, I assumed there was something she was hiding. I didn’t think it was anything as grotesque as a third nipple – but I’d thought maybe she had a birthmark, or a mole, or some other imperfection she wanted to keep hidden from the men bidding on her. But there was no such imperfection.
Sophie was fucking delicious. From her full, heavy tits with small peach colored nipples, to her long, toned legs to her bare pussy – which had been quite unexpected. My cock aches just thinking about it. She’d stripped herself bare for me last night. Her courage was almost overwhelming. She thought I was the one who held the power in our little exchange, but I was smart enough to know, without a doubt, it was her.
I stalk closer and her trembling hands place the cup and saucer on the counter, but her eyes remain on mine – just like I’d reminded her last night. I’m glad she doesn’t cower from me, especially not in front of my brothers.
“Marta will take care of you today – she’ll get you what you need, okay?”
She nods, her posture unsure. I hadn’t planned on leaving her today. I have to work the rest of the week, so today I planned on enjoying her in the many rooms of my home, but if I flake out on my brothers now, I’ll never hear the end of it.
“What about later?” She looks up and blinks those gorgeous blue eyes at me. I try to read her look. Hesitation? Interest? I shrug it off. I’m sure it’s nothing more than mere curiosity at when I’m going to take her virginity. That’d be the only obvious thing on her mind. It’s her entire purpose for being here.
I bend down to whisper near her ear, careful that my brothers don’t overhear. “I quite enjoyed my cock in your mouth last night.”
She swallows and lets out a tiny gasp, inaudible to anyone but me. The sound makes my dick flex in my pants.
Fuck.
I raise one hand and stroke her cheek with the back of my knuckles. “You’re really good at sucking cock, you know that, right?”
I check her eyes for her reaction, but this information looks like news to her. Okay, so maybe she’s just good at sucking mine. Even better news. Her cheeks are rosy and pink and her eyes dart around me, checking to see if my brothers are listening to us. They are, but I’m sure they’re acting like they’re not.
She licks her lips, completely unaware how erotic that sight is to me. Is it possible to golf with a raging erection? Apparently I’m about to find out.
“Enjoy your day with Marta, but then be ready for me tonight.” It’s not a request and a she simply nods.
I head out with my brothers, tossing my clubs into the back of Collins’ SUV and then climb into the passenger seat. I’d completely forgotten about golf today. I hated golf, but Collins had joined the Beverly Hills country club to woo some stuffy client, and he’d been on me and Pace to join him for golf so he could feel like he was getting his money’s worth at the overpriced club.
“So, are you fucking her, or what?” Collins asks before we’re even out of my driveway, not wasting a second.
“Are we really going to talk about this like we’re back in high school?” I ask, keeping my expression bored and fixed on the road.
“Fuck yeah we are.” Pace leans forward between the seats, resting on the console. “She’s hot and you know it. Hot enough that Collins forgot all about his supermodel girlfriend.”
That was fucking funny. Nothing rattled Collins.
“No one would blame you if you were,” Collins continues. “After what that redheaded bitch did to you.”
Why in the fuck was everyone bringing up Stella? I bite down, tasting blood.
“I’m not fucking her,” I answer.
At least not yet. “She’s my friend’s sister,” I remind them.
“Right, John from Harvard.” Collins smirks. He knows just as well as I do that Sophie’s not from the east coast. Why in the fuck had she said she was from Boston?
“Well, she’s not my friend’s sister, and I have a guest room in my condo. I’ll take her if you don’t want her,” Pace replies, completely oblivious.
He’s not taking her anywhere, but I’m not about to engage in a childish argument over my own property.
Chapter Six
Sophie
With a name like Marta, I was expecting a dowdy older housekeeper type with a gray bun and sensible shoes, certainly not the twenty-something blonde who shows up in a cute sundress and strappy sandals with a Chanel bag slung over her shoulder.
“Sophie?” she asks, pulling off the large sunglasses that cover her eyes.
“Yes. Marta, I assume?”
She nods and extends her hand. “You do need a wardrobe, don’t you?” Her gaze travels down my body, taking in Drake’s baggy clothes and she bites her lip. Then she pulls a pair of cut off jean shorts and a tank top from her bag and hands them to me. “Colton said you’d need something to borrow for today.”