One is a Promise (Tangled Lies, #1)

by Pam Godwin

“You, my tiny dancer, are an erotic dream dipped in the sweetest honey. A man only needs to look at you to become fiercely protective of your smile.”

“If you’re here strictly on business…” I lurch off the coffee table and stand on the opposite side. “Explain that.” I point at his erection. “Making money gets my dick hard.”

Oh, sweet Jesus. If I dipped my finger down the back of his jeans, would I slide right into his crack? I might be on the extreme side of outgoing, but I should probably wait for our date before playing with his butt cleavage.

As I reach for the front door, he calls after me, “Mrs. Hartman.” Hartman? That must be his last name. “Yes, Mr. Hartman?” I glance over my shoulder. “I need a first name to accompany the thoughts that will distract me all day.”

“Stop with the demon references, Danni. I’m not okay with it.” Bree puts her plate in the sink a little too roughly. “You’re giving her a complex.” Can a sociopath get a complex?

“Whenever you bond with her, she comes home with bad habits.” “Is that true?” I ask Angel. “Redrum,” she whispers in a fiendish voice, curling a tiny finger in front of her face like she’s holding an imaginary finger puppet. Exactly how I taught her.

“Yes! I mean, what man doesn’t?” “Your rectum, James. Not mine. Have you ever been pegged by a thirteen-inch dildo?” “No.” A flush rises up his neck, and he retreats backward a step. “Fuck, no.” “That’s too bad. We could’ve had something beautiful together.”

“I fucking love your body.” “But not my messy personality?” My head falls back on his shoulder. “Exactly.” My stomach hardens. “What a cruel thing to say.” “You don’t look offended.” He touches his lips to my neck and rolls his hips against me.

“No question about that. You’re my dirty little fuck doll.” He grips the backs of my knees and flips me onto my back.

“Fuck me like you own me.” “I do own you.” He kicks his hips, driving into me ruthlessly,

“You’ll come back to me?” “Yes.” He lifts my hand and touches his lips to my ring, his eyes bright and unyielding. “I promise.” One promise. One forever.

Holy. Fuckamoly.

Perfect lips slide over mine. Perfect biceps flex beneath my hands. Perfect insanity spirals through me and spins the world off its axis.

“You say you don’t want messy.” I lean in, shoving my face in his. “But you’re flirting with it, and honey, I will flirt right back. So put that in your pocket and fondle it when you’re alone at night.”

“Don’t worry about him.” I shift back to Rick. “We bicker like siblings.”

“Ever heard the saying, an optimist laughs to forget, and a pessimist forgets to laugh?” “No, but it sounds like it was written by a realist.”

Hell, I struggle to imagine him combing his own hair. Wealthy men with chauffeurs don’t do this. Serial killers do. The kind that rubs the lotion on its skin.

“I have plans.” With a jug of wine and a vibrator named Dimples.

There’s something really disturbing about your child.” She blows on her coffee. “She’s just going through a phase.” Is demon possession a phase?

“I fucking hate you.” He licks a path up my slit, breathes deeply against my mound, and looks directly in my eyes. “I love you.”

With a deep breath, I unlock the door, turn on the lights, and descend into the fumes of damp concrete and Cole Hartman.