Liars Like Us (Morally Gray, #1)

by J.T. Geissinger

He growls, “I promise to take care of you in every way for the rest of both our lives. Now give me fucking permission to touch you before I die of need, you stubborn fucking woman.”

“He cares for you, Emery. In a way I’ve never seen him care for anyone before.”

“Don’t test me.” I giggle at the look of fury on his face. Winding him up might be my new favorite thing.

“Wife.” The word is a warning. I know he’s demanding an explanation from me, but I feel too unsettled and vulnerable. Too raw. I’m not sure what’s happening between us, only that my emotions are all over the place.

“Don’t start patting yourself on the back for your trust, billionaire. You nearly ripped the head off one of my customers just for standing next to me.” Without a hint of shame, he admits, “I did. And the same thing will happen with any other man you stand too close to. So do the male population of Los Angeles a favor and keep your smiles for your husband, or you might find yourself standing in a pool of someone else’s blood.”

“Stop staring at me.” “Never.” “Try.” “Even if I tried, I couldn’t. It’s my favorite thing.”

From one moment to the next, I go from being annoyed with him to feeling like a mouse who realizes there’s a cat crouching right behind it, ready to pounce. Holding my startled gaze, he says softly, “Sweet little lamb. I’ll give you a five-second head start.”

“My father has a stale crouton for a brain.”

He’s lucky we’re in a bookstore and not a hardware store, because I’d grab a hammer from the nearest shelf and have a go at his balls.

“Callum. I’m serious. I don’t want fruit stored in my vadge. It’s not Tupperware.”

“The tattoo is the first of many I’ll get with your name all over my body.” My breath catches. I study his profile as my pulse begins to race. “But…why?” His expression contemplative now, he reaches for the small silver cream server on the tray. “Because I’m yours. You’ve tattooed your name on everything inside me. The least I can do is make the outside match.” His words blast through me like a hurricane, stealing my breath and knocking me senseless.

“You wear my ring. You sleep in my bed. You made a promise in front of witnesses to have and to hold me for the rest of your life. You chose me, Emery. And because you chose me, you own me, now and forever, come what may.”

Then he puts his mouth next to my ear and closes his arms hard around me. Crushing me against his chest, he says gruffly, “I know you think we should’ve gone slow. But I know nothing of slowness. I dove into you like the ocean, headfirst, not caring if I’d drown.”

“He said he saw his whole future the first time he looked into your eyes.” My breath whooshes out of me with such unexpected force, I lift a hand to cover my mouth. Overwhelmed, I stare at Cole, my eyes beginning to water.

“That was the beginning for me.” “The beginning of what?” “My obsession with you.”

His voice drops an octave. “You. You’re what’s the matter with me. You have been since the first time I laid eyes on you and every day since.” My pulse crashing in my ears, I say, “You spied on me.” “Yes.” “You set this whole thing up so I’d have to marry you.” “Yes.” “You manipulated me! You lied to me and manipulated me, and you somehow think that’s okay?” “I would have killed to have you if it had come to that.”

“There are a million shades of gray between good and evil, love. Am I on the darker end of the spectrum? Yes. Am I a bad man who does good things or a good man who does bad things? Both. But you made this monster your slave. All of what I am, good and bad, light and dark, belongs to you.”

That bastard checkmated me before I even knew the game we were playing.

“There’s nowhere on earth you could run that I couldn’t find you.”

When he kisses the back of my neck again, I say, “I swear on all things holy, if you try to fuck me right now, I will end your penis’s life.”

“I’m sorry that I hurt you. That part is true. But I’m not sorry that you’re my wife.”

“I’ll never lie to you again. I’d rather die than hurt you. I swear on my life.”

“Okay. Here’s the truth. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. My backup plan was to kidnap you and hold you hostage until you fell in love with me from Stockholm Syndrome.”

Callum’s lips brush my cheek, raising all the hair on my arms. He whispers into my ear, “Ask me why I’m so obsessed with you.”

“Sometimes love doesn’t make any sense. But it doesn’t have to. When you find someone who makes your soul sing, all that matters is joining in the song.”

Outraged, I demand, “You’ve been listening in on me too?” “Yes. Not all the time, only when the yearning gets really bad and I need to hear your voice. I love your voice, by the way. It’s beautiful.”

“Now listen to me. No, I’m not a knight in shining armor. I’m the bad guy. I’m the dragon the prince tries to slay in fairy tales. But this dragon is your slave whether you like it or not, and I always will be. We made a vow that included the words until death do us part’.”

He says, “You are beautiful, Emery, but that’s the least interesting thing about you. What I meant then is that you’re the only thing that’s ever made me feel alive. I was dead before I met you, but I looked into your eyes, and you brought me back to life. What you are is my reason for being. My center of gravity. The fixed point around which everything else turns. You feel like sunlight to me. You feel like a sky full of stars. I loved you before I even knew your name, when you were wearing cat ears and spitting fire at me. You ripped my heart out of my chest the first time we met, and you’ve been carrying it around with you ever since, bloody and beating in your hands. If you truly want me to leave you alone, I’ll do it. But be prepared to have a ghost for the rest of your life, because I’ll never stop haunting you. Which is only fair, considering you’ll always haunt me.”

He kisses my throat. His voice husky, he says, “I know I’m damaged. But all my broken pieces belong to you.”

Not all happily-ever-afters are for white knights, darling. Sometimes the villain gets the girl. And isn’t that a much more interesting ending to the story? With all my black heart, Your monster

I’m too busy drinking in his scent and drowning in his eyes to coordinate a retreat. Like always, he short-circuits my brain and plugs directly into my central nervous system.

The emotion in his eyes is overwhelming. “Because you’re everything good and true, and I trust you. With my heart, with my life, with everything I am, I trust you, Emery. And I’ve never loved anyone more.”

“You already said yes.” “I could take it back.” “And I could lock you in a basement.”