The Good Liar (Infidelity #1)

by C.P. Harris

If only they knew how deep things could get when wading into Cole’s waters.

Daniel wasn’t domineering, jealous, nor possessive. None of the unhealthy things I occasionally craved but didn’t need. He was ambitious, funny, smart, and generous with me. I should’ve loved him. I did love him.

I resisted the urge to travel my hand to my aching heart. The platinum band on my finger burned as a reminder he deserved better.

There, standing beneath the Peloponnesian Battle depicted on the vaulted ceiling, standing right in the heart of it, loomed my heaven and hell. Cole Kincaid.

He turned unhurriedly, not the least bit surprised to find me standing there affected by him. He nodded once in a gesture of acknowledgement, his long, sleek fingers cupping his glass in ownership. The way they’d once cupped every part of me.

Privacy was the last thing we needed. Cole and I needed to be supervised at all times.

“And I missed my brother,” he admitted, his tone held a vulnerability his stoicism would never betray. “Stepbrothers,” I corrected. “And we were never just that, Cole.” We had been more. We had been sinful. And the high voltage of electricity sizzling through my veins warned me we were all those things still. Time and space would never change that. “But we aren’t even that anymore. Any familial link we had died with my mother.”

The truth was, if it wasn’t Daniel getting the scraps of me, it would’ve been someone else, because my heart wasn’t whole. I’d left the other half of it back in Seattle, and now it was here, right in front of me, staring into me as if nothing could keep us apart. Not even my vows.

“I gave you what you wanted. I let you go, and I stayed away. I didn’t try to find or make contact with you. But I miss our friendship. Our brotherhood. I miss you,” he whispered. “And not in the way you think.”

He’d reentered my life less than ten minutes ago, and already the old poison resting dormant in me began to unfurl, yawning to life. Already I was forgetting I was a taken man. My wedding band, suddenly feeling like a ball and chain, bit into my skin as a reminder. I needed Cole gone.

Cole huffed. “I bet he thinks it makes you look more expensive.” I stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying without the finery I’m cheap? Nothing?” I demanded, facing off with him. “You’re priceless, Jasper,” he said, seemingly perplexed as to how I didn’t already know it. “It was a bad joke, made to imply something about him, never you.”

Cole was an animal with a suit as his cage, and no forged piece of jewelry on my hand or legal document binding me to Daniel would keep him from what he wanted, if what he wanted was me. I couldn’t afford to forget that. I couldn’t afford to forget we were one and the same.

Cole rounded a corner from the other end of the vast suite, padding toward me shirtless and barefoot, his hair dripping wet from a shower. I trained my eyes on the mischievous glint in his, and not on the inky trail of hair traveling from his navel into the silk pajama bottoms he wore, which did nothing to camouflage the imprint of his bobbing cock.

“Nexcom is a big pond, and I’m not saying Parker & Mitchell are little fish, but they’re not worth the trouble you’re going through to get them.” “You’re worth all the trouble, Jasper. And I needed a way in.” The sunlight beamed down on him through the balcony doors at his back, removing all shadows, highlighting the raw honesty in his eyes. He wanted a place in my life, but I wanted to maintain what my life had been without him. Safe in its predictability. Reliable in its boredom. “You could’ve knocked on my door—” “And you would’ve turned me away,” he argued.

“I’m not here to make your life hard.” “Then why has it suddenly gotten harder? Why does it feel like it’s about to implode?” Cole inched closer, and I instinctively skittered back, shaking my head. “I’ll play whatever role you want me to play, Jasper. I just can’t take being a stranger to the man who knows me best any longer. Please, let me in.” His eyes pleaded with me.

My back met the wide archway’s molding as I retreated. His hand spasmed at his side, probably tempted to reach for me before he lost me for good.

“I love him.” Who are you trying to convince here, Jasper? “I can do that,” he said. “Our relationship, or whatever this is”—I gestured between us—“shouldn’t come between my relationship with him.” You’re making a bad decision, Jasper. My conscience kept pounding away at me. “If you’re happy, I won’t interfere—” “That isn’t good enough,” I snapped urgently. “You can’t expect me to sit idle and watch you be hurt. That’s a promise I can’t make. But if you’re happy with him…” He drifted off on a swallow as if preparing for the pain of his next words. “If he’s good to you, then you have nothing to worry about from me.”

He donned that cocky grin of his, the one that bordered on flirtatious and here-comes-trouble. “You were always big on doing what you love, and not what anyone wanted of you. I used to want to be just like you. Still do.”

And that quickly, something in me opened up for him, a small pocket of warmth not yet frozen over from the cold burden of guilt I’d carried around like a cross I had to bear. Cole slid right in, making himself cozy.

Daniel loosened up after a few glasses of Merlot, idly caressing my nape from his seat next to me as he spoke about his day. It felt awkward having another man’s hands on me in front of Cole, even if those hands belonged to my husband, but Cole didn’t so much as bat an eyelash. Maybe he did want to be brothers, friends. Leave the past behind us and move on. Maybe we could successfully do it, because truthfully, I had missed him, too.

“How was class, Jas?” Cole asked, lowering his wine glass by its bowl, licking the crimson stain away from his blush-hued lips. He sat across from me, and the candle’s flame made his blue eyes shine like a sun-filled sky. Fiercer than Daniel’s shade of light brown. He’d removed his jacket and folded up his sleeves before eating, his forearms thick and veiny. Sturdier than Daniel’s lean physique. My skin burned in all the places he’d touched before. I burned everywhere.

“I’ve never seen you come alive like this before,” Daniel said. “I don’t get to talk about this side of my life often is all,” I replied, squeezing his knee below the table, feeling a strange need to apologize to him for my excitement. For letting my existence be known. To that Cole sat straighter. “What do you mean?” He cut his eyes to Daniel. “Do you not ask him about his passions? His job?”

I closed my eyes and internally groaned, because Cole wouldn’t get it. He wouldn’t get why I allowed Daniel to get away with this. He wouldn’t understand Daniel meant no harm. And that above all, I was getting exactly what I deserved.

honey no :(

Cole and I were left alone with all our memories before the romantic firelight and arcs of lightning flashing across the night sky. His chest rose and fell rapidly with each angered breath, but he didn’t eye me with judgment, only a raging need to comprehend. “Why?” he implored. “You’re too good for him.” “Don’t.” I looked nervously toward the stairs. “Why do you let him demean you?”

“Even the way he touches you—” He cut himself off, sucking in a hiss of air through the seam of his lips. “Keep going,” I said, challenging him. “How does he touch me, Cole?” “Like you’re his,” he said boldly. “As opposed to yours?” “No, that’s not what I meant. You’re property to him. A pet. Something he can train to his whims, even if he’s doing it without malice. I’m not saying this because I want you. I’m saying it because I care. Because you would do the same for me.”

“Right.” I let him go, cursing Cole for reigniting old memories. Old passions. Old parts of me. For forcing me to relive cum-streaked handprints on walls, and nights of howling my pleasure into a thunderstorm while being fucked on my hands and knees as my tears scattered the earth alongside the rain. For forcing me to replay all the dirty, wicked things done to me at his hands, and forcing me to pretend they were being done to me tonight to survive making the sweet, neat, predictable kind of love with my husband.

An old cinema reel of flashes ticked through my mind’s eye. Jasper’s defined Cupid’s bow, its rim a darker pink than the bed of his lips. Instant replays swarmed me of his warm, timid smiles, now replaced with frown lines. The deep rumble of his enticing laughter, which now seemed elusive. Not even the incessant sound of my clicking pen could drown out the playback on his smoky voice, and how breathless it became whenever I handled him roughly. I could almost feel the memory of his silky hair being abused by my unforgiving fingers.

I dropped my head back on my chair. I wasn’t above much when it came to Jasper. I also didn’t want to show up after all those years and be a wrecking ball to what he’d built for himself. If we were only meant to be friends, then so be it. I’d meant it when I said I needed him in my life. I’d continue to swallow my feelings for him, smile and bear the pain of seeing him with someone else, if that was all I could have. Perhaps he and Daniel were happy. Perhaps I was searching for cracks in their foundation to ease some of my guilt behind wanting him anyway. Because guilt would be a hard emotion to come by when knowing I wouldn’t be destroying something good to have what I wanted.

Jealousy was a dangerous emotion, and one I was more than capable of succumbing to. It had taken everything to maintain a neutral expression as Daniel ran his hands over Jasper at the dinner table last night. I’d wanted to clear the dishes away with a sweep of my arm. I had wanted to fuck Jasper right there and make Daniel watch. Wanted to show him how Jasper loved to be touched. How he loved to be taken not asked. School him on what it meant to bring his husband pleasure. And I had wanted him to choke on it.

“Do me a favor,” I called out. “Jasper said he teaches twice a week, can you—” “Already did. He’s got a class starting in less than an hour,” he slung over his shoulder. I checked my watch. I had a meeting in thirty minutes. “Can you—” “Done. Your schedule’s clear for the rest of the day.” He grinned arrogantly, the door swishing closed in his wake.

“That was impressive,” I said. “What are you doing here?” he asked in place of a thank you. I’d settle for the color tinting his sharp cheekbones as acknowledgement of my praise any day. It spoke volumes about what my approval meant to him. It would do. “I had time, so I thought I’d pop in to see you in action.” “You run a multimillion dollar company. Time is the one thing you don’t have.” “We make time for what’s important to us,” I said, a thrill jolting up my spine when his gaze wandered to my mouth. “You’re good at this,” I whispered. “Teaching.”

“Alright. I guess I’m all yours then for the night. Where to?” His words, delivered innocently, sent a flare of something forbidden and hot to the floor of my gut. If only he were mine for the night. For forever. If only. “Let’s go back to my place,” I said, thanking everything holy I’d succeeded in making my tone airy. “We can order in. Catch up without the prying ears of neighboring diners.” “Prying ears might be best.” “Please,” I said.

I excused myself, journeying straight to my bathroom to splash cold water over my face. Huffing uneven breaths into the basin, I pressed my weight into my palms, wondering what the hell I thought I was doing. I loved him, and regardless of the lie I’d readily told him yesterday, I was still in love with him. Madly so.

He was a slut, a virgin, the devil, and an angel rolled into one. A case study in contradictions, leaving my cock hard and my heart soft as putty.

I wanted to break him, and then piece his fractured parts back together again. Nothing would ever change that, and I didn’t know how long I’d be capable of sticking to my promise, of keeping my hands off him, of not ruining everything.

“Yes,” I said, reaching to brush a rogue strand of hair away from the plump vein at the center of his forehead. It protruded when he was angry or sad. Moved by the raw brutality of pain and love in his watery, green gaze, I gave him honesty. A different type. Revealing how flawed, how imperfect I was. It came from the dark place I’d only ever allowed him to see and touch. I said the thing others would warn me to think but not say. “I miss her, but sometimes, I miss us more.” “Me too.” His words were slurred and whispered like the walls had ears. “Does that make us vile people?” he asked. Begged. “Maybe,” I answered. “Maybe it does.”

Seeing Jasper this conflicted, this unhappy, felt tragic, and I was at a loss for how to help him. It made me dislike Daniel even more, which made me want Jasper even more because someone needed to save him. I wanted that someone to be me.

If still wanting him, knowing the pain loving this version of him might bring me, made me an unapologetic sadist, then so be it. I’d do bad things with a clear head to have him. And then I’d do them all over again if it meant I got to have him in the next life, too.

“Stay,” I’d said. “You’re my brother. He’ll understand.” And so he stayed, and we laughed through our intoxication, listened to music, and for the most part we avoided the good ol’ days in favor of the here and now. And then we fell asleep on the sofa. At some point in the night I stirred, finding us too close to one another, finding him in my arms. I told myself it was in the spirit of being past brothers and now tentative friends, and only hoped if he woke he’d think so, too. Above all, I hoped he wouldn’t pull away from me.

My whereabouts for the day were unknown to Cole. In fact, I hadn’t spoken to him in days. Not since finishing a bottle of gin with him, then waking up the following morning with my nose lodged at his throat, and then sneaking out as his fingers twitched in his sleep from the loss of me. It wasn’t beyond his means to find me, though. The prospect agitated me, ensuring I constantly peered over my shoulders for his sudden appearance. Some of my agitation came from wanting to feel important enough to be hunted down.

Across the room, Cole’s broad frame filled the double doorway, and I smiled faintly, forgetting Sofia watched me. She craned her head around. “Is that the so-called ‘old brother but means nothing to me now’ guy?” she drawled with sass. “Ah, yeah.” She considered me with pursed lips. “You know, I’ve never once seen you smile when Daniel entered a room. Yeah,” she said to my stupefied expression, “you’ve got a lot of explaining—and groveling to do. But later.” She patted my cheek before strolling off.

i already adore sophia

I’d woken up with my nose pressed to his Adam’s apple, like I used to, even before we were…more. It vibrated with his soft snores and never failed to drag me into a bottomless slumber. He’d slept with a proprietary fist in my hair, holding me to him, like he used to do, even before we were more.

We were forced to be brothers, then all too willing friends, then something else entirely. What were we doing now? What were we becoming? And who were we fooling with it?

“Does hard work have to equate to manual work?” “I don’t expect you to understand, Mr. Businessman. The rest of us don’t mind getting our hands dirty,” I said, baiting him. Without another word, Cole dramatically removed his expensive wool coat, tossing it carelessly onto the mountain of boxes, then began the process of removing his cufflinks and hiking up his sleeves. “Getting dirty is my specialty, Mr. Jasper. Or have you forgotten?” he said sinfully.

“This is why you decided to go to law school?” he asked, striding toward me until we were only inches apart. I stepped away under the guise of needing room to slip into my coat. I wasn’t strong enough to handle being so close, yet. Not while sober at least. “Yeah. She tried to do both for a while, but all areas were suffering because of it. So now, I tackle the courtroom, and she spends her time laying groundwork.” He gripped my elbow, moving in close again, this time making sure I couldn’t escape. “Thank you, again. For this,” he gestured around us, “and for letting me back in. Thank you.”

I didn’t want to let him in. I didn’t want to love having him around. I didn’t want to miss having him in my corner. I also couldn’t fight him on it, because I lacked the strength needed to fight a connection so strong, which was ultimately why I’d ended up agreeing to hang out at his place the other day. I couldn’t push him away if he was intent on pushing back for a place to stay, because I didn’t hate him. I hated myself for what I did to him, for what I was still doing to him. For what I’d done to all of us.

Daniel relented, following my lead, and therein resided the problem. I needed him to take, to make me pay for whatever he could come up with, even if the transgression had to be imagined. I needed to choke on my breaths, and die a thousand deaths in his arms, at his hands. I needed to lose control, to have it stolen from me. I needed to be robbed of free will. I was a ball of repression, of pent-up aggression, and he was pleasant, a tranquil sea, when what I needed was a fucking tornado to come through and rip everything down to its foundation, including me. I needed him to be Cole.

You’re right.” It pained me to say it. “And you could’ve simply called,” Cole said with a roguish grin. I hit him with the full weight of my stare. “You find this funny?” “Your expression right now? Yeah, I do.” His eyes narrowed with cruelty that only I knew was actually jealousy. Hard and uncompromising. “What I don’t find funny is you saturating my office with his scent. You might want to shower before you go charging through the city on a tear next time. Just a little friendly advice.”

I hurried for the door before I did or said something else foolish, like confess I was terrified of being in a city with him and no Daniel as a buffer or human shield. Without the constant reminder that what I deserved, not what I wanted, waited for me at home.

“Don’t be jealous,” he said. “I’m not trying to steal your best friend.” “I’m not jealous.” Even I heard the petulance in my tone. “Liar,” he teased. “You never liked anyone else playing with your things.” Things sounded pretty filthy coming from his mouth. His full, deceptively sweet mouth.