Page 21 of Filthy Liar
But despite my grudging respect for Ms. Gray the writer, I can’t forget that Ellie—Melinda—used me.
And she doesn’t even try to deny it.
“So there you go. Now you know who I am,” she says, her eyes glittering with challenge.
I shrug. “Sure. You’re a pretty little liar.”
She smirks. “Oh, Jason. You’ll have to try harder than that to get my back up. I did what I had to do to get the story. And then you got lucky, and the story dissolved before I could write it.”
“We turned into good guys, you mean.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I would.”
“Of course you would. You see yourself as the savior of the world. But we both know that’s not true.”
Oh, it’s like that, is it? “And let me guess, you actually are? When you lie your way into the beds of—”
She cuts me off. “We never made it to a bed. But that wasn’t a tactic.”
That’s true. I mostly fucked her on my desk. “Should I feel special?”
“If it makes you feel better.”
“The way I see it, if it wasn’t a tactic, that means we have unfinished business.”
Her eyes go wide, and frankly, I know the feeling. What the fuck am I talking about?
As we’ve talked, I’ve closed the gap between us, and now I have her pressed against the wall again. I graze my thumb against her collarbone as I settle my hand on her shoulder. She tenses. “Relax,” I murmur. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She laughs, a harsh little bark. “I’m not worried about that.”
My thumb strokes back and forth. “I know. Why not?”
“History, maybe.”
“Were you ever scared of me?”
“No.” She follows that with a long, slow blink, and the pulse at the base of her neck flutters.
I lower my voice to a rough whisper. “I miss being inside you.”
Her eyes open, blazing. “Fuck off.”
“Any time, any place.” I tug my tie loose. “Here sounds good.”
“You don’t trust me, but you want to—” She cuts herself off and slices the pink, wet tip of her tongue across her lower lip.
“Maybe I want to fuck you as a distraction, did you ever think of that?”
Her eyes narrow and the pink tongue disappears. “Probably one of the more honest things you’ve said to me.”
“Nah. I told you,” I say huskily. “I miss being inside you. I miss the sweet clutch of your pussy around my cock, I miss the breathy sounds you make when I suck on your tits, and I miss the way you pull my fucking hair when you come.”
“I didn’t.” But the way her eyes widen again tells me she remembers it just as clearly as I do.
“Every single time. It’s like you forget that you’ve got claws. And I love it.”
