Beautiful Liar (The Reed Rivers Trilogy #2) - Lauren Rowe
Chapter 1
Georgina
The iron gate in front of Reed’s house comes into view in the car’s headlights, and I smile to myself. I can’t believe this is my life. I’m sitting next to Reed in the backseat of the black sedan that’s driving us to Reed’s house from the Red Card Riot show, and I’m losing my freaking mind. A mere nine days ago, I stood on the other side of that same iron gate, shrieking at Reed to let me out or I’d sue him for negligence and false imprisonment. And now, here I am, wanting nothing more than to get my horny ass back inside that damned gate, so Reed can take me to heaven again, the same way he did in that janitorial closet earlier tonight.
“Ah, the scene of the crime,” Reed says playfully as the car approaches his house. He squeezes my hand, releasing an unexpected ripple of butterflies into my belly. “Are you, by any chance, feeling the sudden urge to double-flip me off—or perhaps sue me for ‘negligence and false imprisonment’?”
I bat my eyelashes at him. “Now, why would I want to do that, when we buried the hatchet so deliciously earlier tonight?”
Reed leans forward and grazes his soft lips against my cheek. “And, oh, how amazing it felt to bury my hatchet inside you, Georgina Ricci. So damned good, I can’t wait to bury it again and again, all week long—and even more deliciously.”
My clit pulses at Reed’s words and then throbs with yearning when Reed skims his lips across the length of my jawline. I turn my head, intending to crush my hungry lips against his, but it’s not meant to be. The car has stopped, signaling we’ve arrived at our destination.
“Is there a code?” the driver says, referring to the gate, and Reed shoots me a heated smolder that says, Hold that thought.
“We’ll just get out here,” Reed tosses out.
After we pile out of the sedan together, Reed heads to the trunk to retrieve my suitcase—the one I packed thinking I’d be spending an exciting week on the road with rock royalty—while I head to the gate and stare slack-jawed through its metal slats at Reed’s breathtaking house. After a moment, Reed appears at my side, wheeling my suitcase behind him. He unlocks a pedestrian gate and politely gestures for me to pass through first, which I do.
“Are you cold?” Reed asks as I walk by. “You’re shaking.”
I rub my upper arms. “Just excited. Also, nervous.”
“Nervous?” He closes the gate behind us. “There’s nothing to be nervous about, Georgie girl. I come in peace. For the next week, my home is yours.”
Butterflies. They’re not rippling inside me any longer. They’re flapping up a damned storm.
“Thank you.”
Inside the darkened house, Reed parks my suitcase and flips a switch, and I gasp at the magnificence illuminated before me. Reed’s massive living room is fit for a modern-day king. Its ceilings aren’t high—they’re towering. Floor-to-ceiling windows announce the owner of this manor is literally, and figuratively, on top of the world. Dark wood and ironwork declare a masculine, powerful man resides in this castle. But colorful tiling and unexpected pops of decorative color—sapphire blues, ruby reds, royal purples—make it clear the powerful owner of this manor is a cultured gentleman who isn’t afraid to take risks.
Reed motions to my bag at the front door. “Would you like me to bring your suitcase to my bedroom, or would you prefer to sleep in a guest room this week?”
Anticipation flickers across Reed’s chiseled face. A flash of vulnerability, I’d even say—like he’s momentarily possessed by the spirit of a teenager asking his crush to prom. But as fast as that vulnerability appears on Reed’s handsome face, it vanishes again, supplanted by his usual confidence.
But there’s no going back. I’ve caught a glimpse of what lies beneath Reed’s usual swagger, however fleetingly—as if I’d gazed out the window of a speeding train and caught the briefest glimpse of a sparkling, silver lake through a thick blanket of pine trees—and, just this fast, I’m instantly hooked and want to see it again.
“I think I’d prefer to sleep in a guest room this week,” I say. But I’m lying through my teeth. If I were telling the truth, I’d admit I want nothing more than to sleep next to Reed in his bed this week. But, unfortunately, my gut is telling me, rather forcefully, that carving out a safe space for me to take an occasional time out from Reed, and