Filed To Story: Filthy Beautiful Lies Book PDF Free by Kendall Ryan
Oh. Tomorrow is Sunday. What business could he possibly have on Sunday? “Is it work or personal?”
“Sophie…” He lets out a soft groan. “I wish I could explain it all to you, but I don’t want you to hate me.”
“I could never hate you.”
“You promise?”
I yawn, unable to hold it in a second longer. “Uh huh.”
He chuckles, sending little vibrating tingles all through me. “Get some sleep, sweet girl. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Okay.” I nestle into the pillow, hating that I have to wait another day to feel his strong arms around me.
Chapter Seventeen
Colton
The trip was a complete bust. I’d wasted the last several years of my life on someone who I now realize was never worth my time, and one weekend in her presence hadn’t fixed a damn thing. I don’t know why I’d thought it would.
With a woman like Sophie in my life – someone so kind, generous and pure – it had opened my eyes to something more. What I’d had with Stella had never been the deep, soul-catching connection I was looking for. But something told me I might have finally found what I’d been seeking in Sophie. She’d auctioned off her virtue to save her sister’s life. Who does that? She’s special and amazing in so many ways. And now I’m eager to get home to her.
I wonder, despite the strange master/slave start to our relationship if we have any shot at something real.
When my plane finally touches down at the hanger, I strap my leather duffle bag to my bike and take off like a bullet. The only thing on my mind is clearing my thoughts of my disastrous weekend and getting Sophie’s warm, pliant body in my hands.
As my bike roars down the Pacific Coast Highway, the desire to see Sophie and to be near her rages through me. I could never have imagined that spending two nights alone after spending so many with her snuggled warmly beside me would have affected me so profoundly. But I know that it has. My brothers would say I’m going soft – and they’d be right – but I don’t care.
Tearing through the mudroom, I check the kitchen and den in search of her. Finding the downstairs empty of everyone except the household staff, I take the stairs two at a time and haul ass to my bedroom, deciding it’s the best possible place I could find her anyway.
Empty.
Same with the master bath. She’s not here.
I call Kylie who confirms she’s not working today.
What the fuck?
I try Marta next. No answer.
Has everyone just dropped off the face of the planet today?
Unable to temper the anxiety coursing through my veins, I change into a pair of trunks and decide to swim laps and burn off this excess energy while I wait for her to get home.
I run into Beth on my way to the pool who confirms no one’s seen Sophie.
Seventy-two laps later my body’s tired, but my mind races on. I climb from the pool, leaving a soaking wet trail and collapse onto a lounge chair to wait. She has to come home sometime, right? Unless she already found out and she… No. She’d give me a chance to explain at least. I have to believe that.
When I open my eyes sometime later, Sophie’s standing over me, her long hair falling like a wave onto my chest.
“Colton? Wake up. You’re going to burn out here.”
I blink several times, the harsh afternoon sunlight causing spots to dance in my eyes.
Sophie
Colton stares up at me, blinking to clear his vision. His shorts are wet and his skin is developing a golden hue. I hadn’t expected him home in the middle of the day, figuring once he flew in from New York, he’d head to the office. But instead, he’d come straight home. It causes something to pinch in my chest. I want to leap into his arms, but he’s still staring up at me and his mouth is tugged down into a frown.
He looks like he’s been through hell and back. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
He sits up and scrubs a hand across his face. “Where were you?”
“I went shopping with Marta.” I point to the shopping bags I set down beside the glass patio doors.
He rises and knots the towel around his waist before stomping away.
“Colton?” I follow him. “What’s wrong? Was your trip okay?” Considering he’s told me absolutely nothing, the question feels fake. I hate it.
“It was fine.”
His back is to me and I place a hand against his shoulder, gently kneading the tense muscle. “Are you mad I wasn’t here?”
“I like coming home to you.” He shrugs.
I walk around him, so I can face him eye to eye. “You missed me.”
“No. The house was too quiet. Empty.”
“The housekeepers are here. You missed me.”