Twisted Lies (Twisted, #4)

by Ana Huang

Christian didn’t seem like he had much use for rules at all unless they were his own.

“If you saw yourself the way other people see you,” he said quietly. “You’d never doubt again.” Curiosity and something infinitely sweeter and more dangerous fluttered to life in my heart. “How do other people see me?” Christian’s eyes didn’t leave mine. “Like you’re the most beautiful, most remarkable thing they’ve ever seen.”

The butterflies lying dormant in my stomach went crazy, and I suddenly knew, with all the certainty in the world, that they were there to stay.

I firmly believed that if someone showed you who they were, believe them. And Christian had indicated time and time again that he wasn’t interested in a real relationship. The day people stopped thinking they could change someone who didn’t want to be changed was the day fewer hearts got broken.

For all my aversion to relationships, I was a romantic in my most secret of hearts, and I was terrified that, like everything else I’d kept hidden, Christian would unravel that part of me until it was impossible to put back together.

“I don’t expect you to answer. You never do. But, while I’m grateful for your help with the stalker, I can’t take anymore from you than I already have.” I held the watch out further. His hands remained at his sides, but the weight of his stare was a physical press against my skin. “We signed a contract, but the boundaries have blurred since I moved in. It’s time we revert to the original terms of our agreement. We’re together in public only, for mutually beneficial reasons, and we’re housemates until we find my stalker and put him behind bars. That’s all we are. Nothing more, nothing less.” The words stacked up like bricks in the wall I was building between him and my misguided heart. Tick. Tick. Tick. Only my ragged breaths interrupted the agonizingly slow pass of time. My feet hadn’t moved an inch since Christian came home, but my chest heaved like I’d just climbed Mount Everest. “Nothing more, nothing less.” His lazy repetition of my words sent a shiver of unease down my spine.

The hum intensified, sweeping over us like a tidal wave over the shore. Christian’s eyes darkened until the pupils nearly obscured the molten gold of his irises. “Your questions.” The cruel cut of his smile injected ice into my veins, and I suddenly regretted asking him anything at all. “You want to know why, Stella? Why I gave you the watch, why I moved you into my house, my sanctuary, when I’ve lived alone for over a decade and had planned to do so for the rest of my life?” Every word spiked my blood with adrenaline until I was drowning in it. In him. In this wild vortex I’d sucked us into with no escape route in sight. “It’s because you haven’t looked me in the eye since New York. Because you’re all I can fucking think about no matter where I am or who I’m with, and the thought of you hurt or upset makes me want to raze this city to the ground.” Soft, almost desperate viciousness coated his voice. “I’ve never wanted someone more, and I’ve never hated myself more for it.” The vortex dragged me deeper, submerging me beneath the waves of a thousand different emotions. Any words I might’ve spoken were too tangled up in my chest to escape. A bitter smile slashed across that heartbreaking face. “That’s fucking why.”

I’d gone to Valhalla hoping to take my mind off her. That’d backfired as well. I could’ve gone home with any woman I wanted, and I chose to come home to the one who didn’t want me. A caustic laugh singed my throat. Fate was a fucking bitch.

Her eyes lit up. She lived for presents. She once told me it was a shame Santa wasn’t real because, as old as he was, she’d fuck him if it meant she’d wake up to a different gift every morning. Granted, that had been after three eggnogs over the holidays, but still. Jules Ambrose’s mind worked in fascinating ways.

“I’m a doctor, and I still can’t find a medical reason for why girls always have to use the bathroom at the same time,” I heard Josh muse as we left. “You’re an idiot,” Alex said.

New York, Christian’s weird aversion to art, the watch, his confession about wanting me. By the time I finished, three eyes pinned me to the marble counter with varying degrees of shock (Ava), concern (Bridget), and delight (Jules). “I had a feeling he was into you since the day we met him,” Jules said sagely. “The way he looked at you when we signed the lease? Whew.” She fanned herself. “Listen, if you want to leave and bang his brains out, I won’t be offended. It’s a new season, babe. Time to clear out those cobwebs from your sex life. It’ll be like spring cleaning for your vagina.”

“That’s why I said bang, not date,” Jules said. “I bet he’s a beast in bed. He just has that look.” Heat stained my cheeks. “What would Josh say if he knew you were secretly assessing other men’s sexual prowess?” “He’d say he’s still better than them, and he’d be right. Our sex life is fantastic.” Jules cast an apologetic glance at Ava. “Sorry.” “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that last part.” Ava had accepted the relationship between Josh and Jules on the condition that they never discussed their sex life in front of her.

Beside him, Josh’s fingers flew over his phone with alarming speed. My eyes narrowed. “Are you texting Jules?” “Of course not. But in case you’re wondering, the girls will be in the bathroom for…” He checked his phone. “At least another half hour.” Jesus Christ.

Of all the people Stella could be friends with, she had to choose these people.

“Having feelings is nothing to be ashamed of.” A tiny smile cracked the ice in Alex’s expressi...

Josh’s smile disappeared. “What do you mean, you’ve beat Alex in chess? When did you play chess together?” He whipped his head toward Alex. “You’ve been playing chess with someone else?” Alex closed his eyes briefly before he opened them and glared at me, his expression filled with frost-tipped venom. My smile widened. “We have a standing chess date every month.” I swirled my drink in my glass. “Didn’t he tell you?” Josh looked stricken. “You have another, secret best friend? But…I’m your best friend! I bought you a banana float for your bachelor party!” “I don’t want a banana float, and he’s not my best friend.” Alex’s glare intensified.

“I can’t believe it. Standing chess date,” Josh muttered furiously. “Was that why you wouldn’t watch the latest Marvel movie with me? Because you know I’ve been dying to see that movie for weeks…”

Rhys was too busy laughing to pay attention to the drama unfolding less than three feet away. “Wait till I tell Bridget. She’s going to love this.” My temporary good mood evaporated. “You won’t tell her shit.” “Sure I won’t.” His big frame shook with mirth. My back teeth clenched with aggravation.

Her conviction was misplaced because I was exactly what her father accused me of—a snake in the grass, a monster with bloody hands and a bloodier past. But after seeing myself through her rose-tinted glasses, I wished, for the first time in my life, that I was the man she thought I was.

Look at the world around us. People kill, steal, and lie in the name of this abstract emotion we’re told is supposed to be our ultimate goal. Love conquers all. Love heals all. Etcetera, etcetera.” The curl of his lip told me how much respect he had for such platitudes. “Alex gave up a multibillion-dollar company. Bridget almost lost a country. And Rhys gave up his privacy, which mattered more to him than any amount of cash. It’s completely illogical.” “Alex got his company back,” I pointed out. “Bridget made it work, and Rhys didn’t give up all his privacy. Sometimes, sacrifices are necessary for happiness.” “Why?”

“There are different types of love. The way I love fashion is different from the way I love my friends.” “Varying degrees of the same disease.” Dark amusement filled his face when I winced at the word disease. “Is this where you’ll try to change my mind? Convince me that love does, in fact, make the world go around?” “No,” I said truthfully. “You’ve already made up your mind. Nothing I say will change it. The only way you’ll change your mind is through experience, not words.” Surprise coasted through his eyes before it submerged beneath something heavier, more slumberous.

“And do you think that will happen?” His low drawl condensed the air between us. “That I’ll fall in love and eat my words?” I shrugged, the casual movement at odds with the rapid beats of my heart. “Maybe. I’m not a fortune teller.” Secretly, I hoped he would. Not because I had delusions of being the one who could quote-unquote change him, but because everyone deserved to experience true love at least once in their lifetime. “One of the clauses in our contract,” Christian said, watching me with those all-knowing eyes, “is that I don’t fall in love with you.” My mouth dried. “Yes.” “Why did you put in that condition, Stella?” “Because I don’t want you to fall in love with me.” He didn’t smile at my quick quip. A long silence passed before he spoke again. “You and I, we aren’t so different,” he said softly.

I hated cuddling after sex and cuddling without sex even more, but instead of pushing Stella away, I brushed a lock of hair out of her face and examined her in the moonlight peeking through the curtains. The silvery glow caressed her skin in a way that made her look ethereal. An angel sleeping in the arms of a monster.

I shouldn’t be touching her and tainting her with my crimes, both past and future. She deserved to shine without darkness threatening to consume her, and if I were a better man, I would let her go. But I wasn’t. My flickering conscience recoiled at the unseen smears of red against her skin while a twisted, possessive part of me thrilled at the sight. But if there was one thing both sides agreed on, it was that she was mine. And now that she was in my life, there was no letting her go.

I've met plenty of beautiful women in my life. Women with perfect hair, perfect skin, and perfect bodies. Supermodels and movie stars and heiresses molded by the best money could buy. None of them held a candle to Stella. She glowed in a way that had nothing to do with her outer beauty.

Darkness was always drawn to light, but I wasn’t just drawn to her; I was fucking obsessed. I would throw myself into her flame and let it burn me alive if it meant her warmth was the last thing I felt before I died.

“Then why did you come?” Her question expanded between us like it was the most important thing on the beach. “For you.” I lingered on the soft, bare skin above her elbow. The sun blazed overhead, but it was nothing compared to the sparks igniting in the air. Thousands of embers peppered my skin and lit a trail of fire up my arm and into my chest. “Drop your arms for me, sweetheart. I want to see you.” It was the closest I ever came to begging.

“I don’t…I’m not…” Her throat moved again with a visible swallow. “It’s been a while since someone saw me like this.” Embarrassment coated her admission. The fierce flame of possessiveness burned in my gut, a thousand times hotter than when I’d caught Ricardo staring at Stella after the shoot. Of course, I knew she must’ve been naked in front of other men before—just as I knew I wanted to peel the skin off said men’s flesh and leave them to rot beneath the hot sun for daring to lay their eyes on her. No one would ever be worthy of her. “Define a while.” My lazy request didn’t hide the undercurrent of danger running beneath it. Wariness flickered to life in her eyes. “Years.” The beast in my chest was fully awake now, and it wanted to press further. Demand the name of every fucking man who’d touched her so I could pay them a nice follow-up visit. It took a good amount of willpower, but I caged those desires. I was putting her on edge, and I didn’t want to waste our last day in Hawaii focused on insignificant people. I may not be her first, but I would damn well be her last.

Her hand shot up to grasp my wrist. “Christian.” My name fell off her lips in a sweet, breathless plea, but it might as well be the shot from a starting pistol. One word, and the full force of my desire snapped from its leash. I wanted to swallow the sound of my name from her mouth, see if she tasted as sweet as she made it sound or if it was dirty and wanton, like sin made verbal. More than that, I wanted to bury myself inside her, paint her with my cum, and ruin her so thoroughly it made the fall of the angels look like child’s play. I would never make it to heaven, but that didn’t matter as long as she ruled beside me in hell. Stella was made to be my queen.

The wet, filthy sounds of my fingers pumping in and out of her told me what I needed to know, but I wanted to hear her. I wanted her to let go. The volume of Stella’s moans grew, but she still held back, her muscles visibly taut from the effort. “Please,” she whimpered. “I can’t…I…” “Let go, Stella.” My mouth grazed her ear. “When I tell you to scream, I want you to fucking scream. Or I’ll bend you over and spank your ass raw until you beg me to let you scream.” A surprised but wicked smile touched my lips when she clenched around my fingers at the threat.

“Good girl,” I murmured, withdrawing my hand.

“You must love that dress,” he said as I pulled on my swimsuit and threw the dress I’d worn to the shoot over it. The white lemon-print cotton piece was one of my favorites. “You’ve worn it five times since spring began.” My breath fluttered in my chest before it whooshed out in a surprised exhale. “I didn’t realize you noticed what I was wearing.” “I notice everything about you.”

“I love this dress on you.” His gaze slid over my silk dress in an electric caress. Breathe. “I thought you don’t believe in love,” I teased. “You’re right. That was the wrong word.” Christian touched the small of my back while his eyes met mine in the mirror. “Because love is ordinary. Mundane. And you, Stella…” The soft rasp of the zipper filled the air as he dragged it up my spine in one exquisitely, torturously slow glide. My breath left my lungs at both the sensuality of the movement and the raw intimacy of his next words. “You’re extraordinary.”

“Tell me.” The tiny glide of his finger over my hip was enough to send my pulse into overdrive. “Do you want sex, or do you want to be fucked?”

“You did so well,” he murmured. “Such a good girl.”

I guess that was what happened when girls with a need for academic validation grew up. They developed a praise kink.

Didn't need to be called out like that

She was dreaming. I could tell by the way her lips curved and the soft noises she made in her sleep. I wondered what she was dreaming about and whether said dream included me. If not, that was unacceptable. I pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder and wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. Whether in heaven or hell, in dreams or real life, Stella was mine. And I didn’t fucking share.

“What were you dreaming about?” “I don’t really remember. Something involving a boat? I keep meaning to start a dream journal, but I always forget.” I chose not to ask what a dream journal was. “Were you alone in the dream?” I asked casually. “Hmm, now that you mention it, there was someone in the boat with me,” she said. “Dark hair, tanned skin, a bit older than me but really good-looking…” A smug grin crept over my lips. Stella snapped her fingers. “I remember now. It was Ricardo!” She let out a squeal of laughter when I rolled her over and pinned her arms above her head. “You think that’s funny,” I growled, but a smile threatened to slip free at the sparkle in her eyes. “I was only telling the truth,” she teased. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of a dream. I didn’t think you’d be one of those guys who gets clingy after sex.” “I told you, Stella. I’m jealous of everything when it comes to you.” Something dark and possessive moved through my chest. “And it wasn’t just fucking sex.”

“I wish we could stay longer.” Her wistful sigh tugged at my heart. “I don’t want to go back to the city yet. I haven’t even explored the island. It’s just been Delamonte stuff the entire time.” “So let’s stay.” I made the decision without thinking. It seemed my default setting was giving Stella anything she wanted.

And no matter how much I’d tried to deny it in the past, this was what I’ve wanted since I first saw her. Stella in my arms, happy and safe and mine. But as perfect as everything was with us now, I knew that if she ever found out the truth, she would hate me. Which was why she could never find out.

“I can’t make a final determination until I see what your actual driving skills are like,” I said solemnly. “So yes, for now, it’s kind of.” “You’re talking about driving skills?” His brow rose higher. “Butterfly, you almost rear ended our guide yesterday.” I knew he wouldn’t let that go. “It wasn’t my fault,” I huffed. “He came out of nowhere!” Christian pressed his lips together, and it took me a second to realize he was suppressing laughter. “It’s not funny.” My cheeks flamed. Maybe I wasn’t the best driver in the world, but I’d tried. “I felt bad about you driving us everywhere, so I offered…stop laughing.” “I would never laugh at you,” he said with a grin. “I will also never get in a car with you behind the wheel again.”

Instead, I took the coward’s way out. “Thank you for the past few days. They were just what I needed.” I dug my toes into the cool sand and kept my eyes on the table. “We make a pretty good fake couple, don’t we?” The words burned like acid on their way out. “Fake couple with benefits,” I added, hoping to lighten the suddenly tense atmosphere. I snuck a peek at Christian. His face looked like it was carved from granite, but his eyes burned dark and intimidating. “Fake couple?” His silken voice wrapped ice around my throat. A shiver rasped over my skin, but I forged on. “That was our agreement. A few kisses and sex don’t change anything.” I wasn’t naive enough to think that just because he slept with me, he wanted anything more than a good time. We’d given into something between us, but that didn’t mean I had any commitment from him. I’d seen too many people get their hearts broken because of such an assumption, and I refused to be one of them. “They don’t, do they?” Lower. More dangerous. “Then what, exactly, do those few kisses and sex mean to you?” Something told me I shouldn’t answer, but I did anyway. Self-preservation had never been my strong suit when it came to Christian. “A fantasy. None of this is real.” I gestured at the beach. “It’s never been real. Hawaii is a dream, but it’s ending tomorrow, and I want to set the right expectations before we return to D.C. You said it yourself.” The lump in my throat grew. “You don’t believe in love.”

Despite my aversion to relationships, I was a romantic at heart. When I found the right person, I wanted to get swept up in that grand, all-consuming love. The type of love that’d compelled Alex to move to another country for Ava, that gave Bridget and Rhys the courage to go against a country, and that transformed years of animosity between Josh and Jules into something beautiful. That type of love existed. I’d witnessed it with my own eyes.

Men like Christian Harper didn’t change for anyone.

I resisted the urge to twist my necklace around my finger like I always did when I was nervous. It was my tell, and I bet Christian had already picked up on it.

“I want to make a few things clear.” Christian’s lips brushed mine with each word. “Touch another man, he dies. Let another man touch you, he dies. Tell me I can’t touch you…” His grip tightened on the back of my neck as his voice dropped. “And I will fucking die.”

“I don’t want to see other women, and I sure as fuck don’t want you seeing other men.” Ice frosted the word men. “You belong with me. Exclusively. There is not a world or lifetime where that’s not true.” Emotion stung the backs of my eyes, but I managed to smile through the tightness in my chest. “Christian Harper, are you asking me out?” “Yes.” Simple, unequivocal. Real.

I was used to being alone. Even when I was surrounded by people, a part of me isolated itself until I felt like I was watching a movie of my life instead of living it. I had never belonged to someone, nor had someone ever belonged to me. The idea was equal parts thrilling and terrifying. But what was even more terrifying was the realization that I didn’t mind belonging with Christian. Not even a little bit.

The only people who knew our pre-Hawaii relationship hadn’t been real were Christian, myself, and my friends, who’d greeted my announcement with considerably less surprise than they had the previous bombshell. According to Jules, it’d been “inevitable” based on how we’d been eye fucking each other at her housewarming.

“What’s wrong?” Christian picked up on my discomfort the instant I returned to his side. He’d had his back turned, so he hadn’t seen what happened. The man he’d been talking to had also wandered off, leaving us alone. “Nothing.” I shifted beneath his skeptical gaze before I admitted, “Someone groped me on my way back from the restroom.” Christian stilled. “Who?” His tone was calm, almost pleasant, but it contained something that evoked an arctic chill beneath my skin. My body betrayed the small voice warning me not to tell him. I instinctively flicked my eyes toward the bar, where the man who’d groped me was hitting on an uninterested-looking woman. Christian followed my gaze. “I see.” His inflection didn’t change, but foreboding slithered down my spine like the cool, scaly skin of a snake. Some people burned hot when they were angry, but Christian ran cold. The quieter he got, the more people needed to worry. “It’s not a big deal,” I said anxiously. I didn’t want him doing anything that might get him into trouble or that he might regret later. “It was only a passing grab. Not worth making a scene over.” “I won’t make a scene.” Christian set his empty champagne glass on a nearby table, his face unreadable. “In fact, I’m done here. Are you ready to leave?” I nodded and breathed a silent sigh of relief. Thank God.