Find Me (Truthful Lies Trilogy - Book Two) Read online

  FIND ME

  TRUTHFUL LIES - BOOK TWO

  BY RACHEL DUNNING

  Copyright © 2014 Rachel Dunning.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Cover Design Copyright © 2014 Rachel Dunning.

  Cover Photo of Male Model - Copyright © 2014 pudi studio

  Smashwords Edition

  EBook ISBN: 9781311468376

  All photos obtained from Shutterstock and used with permission.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Also by Rachel Dunning:

  Know Me, #1 Truthful Lies

  Finding North, #1 Naïve Mistakes Trilogy

  East Rising, #2 Naïve Mistakes Trilogy

  West-End Boys, #3 Naïve Mistakes Trilogy

  Like You, #1 Perfectly Flawed Series

  Christmas Comfort, #1 Hot Holidays Series

  Girl-Nerds Like it Harder, #1 Girl-Nerd Series

  Girl Nerds Like it Faster, #2 Girl-Nerd Series

  Girl-Nerds Like it Deeper, #3 Girl-Nerd Series

  Girl-Nerds Like it Longer, #4 Girl-Nerd Series

  For news of upcoming releases, visit:

  http://racheldunningauthor.blogspot.com

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  FOREWORD

  TO FIND...

  PROLOGUE

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  ADULTHOOD

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  FOUR-AND-TWENTY

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  EPILOGUE

  BOOK THREE

  FOREWORD

  FROM THE AUTHOR

  All efforts have been made to make Book Two of the Truthful Lies Trilogy stand on its own. But, for a full appreciation of the characters and their stories, Book One (Know Me) should be read before reading this one.

  ADULTS ONLY

  Please note that this book contains strong sexual content and is intended to be read by adults only.

  TO FIND...

  To find (transitive verb):

  To gain the first sight or knowledge of, as of something new, or unknown; to perceive; to experience; to discover by the intellect or the feelings; to detect; to feel; to gain, as the object of desire or effort; to acquire; to arrive at, as a conclusion; to determine as true;

  Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary - 1913

  PROLOGUE

  REAL BEAUTY

  -1-

  Declan Cox

  In a world where everything turns black, where wounds fester and loss reigns. Sometimes there is beauty.

  Real beauty.

  The kind you expect in a Heaven or in any of the Paradises you hear about when growing up. The kind that shines its light across a cold and barren desert. The kind that sings like an angel across a cacophony of screeching wails of pain and sadness rising from the murkiest depths of a filthy hell.

  Blaze is that beauty.

  -2-

  Her body detonates. Her repetitive cries of orgasmic release are intermingled calls of both pain and joy. She wraps an elbow around my neck, presses her temple against mine as the tidal wave rips into her.

  We’re falling down a waterfall, and all we have is each other to hold onto before we hit the rocks below.

  Her pussy clutches my cock again and again, and soon, I fire. Torrents of pleasure flood out of me, bam, bam, bam. I almost snap her I’m holding her so tight. So tight that I feel two of her vertebrae press hard into my left wrist.

  I roar.

  Her screams are ecstasy.

  Our mutual calls are cello and violin.

  She pulls my hair, meets my lips with hers forcefully.

  It feels like it will never end.

  Our moistened chests slide against each other. I try reach down to lick her nipple, bite it, but she won’t let go of me. She grips me on the neck too closely.

  In the end, it’s just a light shiver from her, and the occasional pulse inwards, tightening my shaft once again.

  And then it’s over.

  She rocks on me, eases back.

  I look at her: My riot grrrl princess. My fire.

  I lie back. Our mouths meet and her tongue can’t reach deep enough inside me. I flip her over, not taking myself out of her.

  Because it feels like I’ve wanted her forever.

  And I’m not done having her...

  SEVENTEEN

  KABLOOEY

  -1-

  Declan Cox

  I lean on clenched fists on either side of her ears. And below, crotch to crotch, I move into her. Little by little trying to get deeper, further into her.

  She’s soft. And wet. Oh so wet.

  We squish as I move forward.

  She bites her lower lip. Sweat sheens on her brow.

  I move out, then shift left a little, just for comfort. And I drive in gently again.

  “Mmmmm,” she says. Her eyes flutter closed, but I can see she tries to hold them open. She repeats: “Mmmmmm.” And, a whisper that’s velvet itself: “Oh, Declan. Baby.”

  Baby.

  Declan.

  I harden. Push into her.

  “Mmmmm. Declan.” Slower now: “Mmmmmmmmmm.”

  I harden some more. Her chest bounces as I start increasing my speed. Her legs widen. She lifts them, slips a hand under each of her thighs, and holds them up. “Oh, god.”

  Every thrust of mine brings out a call in her. A groan, a moan.

  A word.

  My name...

  With my left hand I cup the back of her neck; lean on my right fist. I’m moving faster now. Her body’s bouncing harder. Her brightly tatted arm is a masterpiece of movement. Coolness chills me where my upper thighs meet her ass and then separate from it.

  Smack. Smack. Smack.

  “OH. DECK. BABY.”

  “Open your eyes, Blaze.”

  She tries, gets them halfway.

  “Blaze, open them. I need to look at you.”

  As if lifting a mountain, she gets her lids open. And her green gaze meets mine.

  “Don’t stop looking at me, Blaze. Please don’t stop.”

  I slam her harder and harder. Her lips part. She eases two hands behind my neck. Because it’s my second go, the orgasm teases me, hanging back, building pressure right at the base of my cock; threatening to disappear no matter how much I will it to explode from me.

  I pump faster. Harder! My abs are burning, my upper thighs are screaming. Blaze’s voice keeps me going: “Oh, baby. Yes.”

  It’s a dulcet voice: Breathy and seductive.

  It transports me. My chest burns with exhausted heat.

  I pump and pump and pump and pump. There it is, right there, almost reaching out, almost...almost...

  Her grip on my neck tightens. She gasps, “Hah.” Her eyes widen.

  Then, while the ripping groan forms at the bottom of her chest, she shuts her eyes, tilts her head to the right. And wrests out the words, “Oh, Declan, baby, I
’m gonna come—”

  Her bottom lip drops. Her eyebrows rise. And it looks like she’s just shot a ton of dope.

  She screams: “Oh. Fucking. Damn!”

  -2-

  I drop toward her, wrap both my arms around her neck as the second wave beats into her. Faster, and shorter. But no less exquisite.

  Sweeter.

  And halfway through hers, I get my own merciful release. An endless trickle upwards that finally becomes a splash of relief as it leaves me. I convulse into her a few times. Never letting her go.

  She holds me back, arms to my neck, just as mine are to hers.

  Then she kisses my ear. Desperately.

  And I hold her like I’m too afraid to ever let her go.

  Because I am.

  -3-

  I don’t sleep. She does.

  On our sides, I press her back to my chest while her restful breaths fill the open room of her loft.

  My mind can’t stop replaying the day’s events.

  Catalina: YOU MOTHERFUCKER, I GONNA KILL YOU!

  Pops: Catalina, no!

  Trigger squeeze.

  Pops flying in front of Trevor.

  Kablooey!

  Eventually I get up, find Blaze’s liquor cabinet (it’s under the sink) and grab a bottle of quarter-empty CC whiskey. I pull out a glass from up top, pour a drink. Before it hits my lips, I hear Blaze say, “Pour me one as well. And wait for me before you drink it.”

  It makes me smile.

  I do as she says, and wait for her to get up and reach the kitchen counter. She does, clad in nothing but a long tee shirt. We touch glasses, and she says, “To your pops.”

  I swallow a lump, then say, “To never drinking alone.”

  The statement states what it means, and she realizes it. So we share a moment of pause, letting it sink in.

  She repeats it: “To never drinking alone.”

  I pour us another, let it burn on the way down. And one more. “That’s it for me,” she says.

  I’d planned on doing the whole bottle, but I guess I could stop now as well.

  I put her in my arms, let my whiskey-hot breath reach hers. I harden before my crotch even touches her mound. I don’t bother going to the bed. I rubber up and put myself inside her.

  She whimpers. We shake maddeningly. Standing, I pump into her in a blur.

  We sweat.

  We exhale.

  In the end, her arms dangling around my neck, her unbeatable eyes locked on mine, I push a strand of her riotous gold-pink-green hair over her left ear; press my palm against her right, shaved side.

  She breaks the gaze by resting her forehead on my chest. “You make me feel whole,” she mumbles.

  I press her head further against me. So do you.

  -4-

  This time I do fall asleep. Briefly. Before the nightmare of what happened to pops wakes me:

  Kablooey!

  -5-

  I pour another glass of CC. Then another. This time, Blaze doesn’t wake up. And I do drink alone.

  All night.

  My pops died tonight, in front of my eyes. So that’s alright, isn’t it?

  EIGHTEEN

  SHE’S DEAD, BLAZE

  -1-

  Blaze Ryleigh

  I awake to that warm glowing feeling you have when you’re young. When nothing’s gone wrong in your life. When friends will live forever and love is just over the horizon.

  When your heart doesn’t yet have a chasm in it.

  I wake up thinking of Deck.

  Until my hand reaches over and I don’t feel him.

  Then it all hits me. She’s dead, Blaze.

  No! NO! NO! Stop holding me back. NO.

  I shake my head. Flashback.

  I turn, and see the almost empty bottle of Canadian Club on the kitchen island. And Declan’s head on his forearm next to it.

  Damn it. Not again. Not, the fuck, again.

  I get up, walk over to him. Put my arm around his shoulders and squeeze. In his ear, I whisper, “Baby?”

  “Hmmpf?”

  The booze reeks up from his breath as he says it. “Sweetie, it’s morning.”

  “Urrmpf.”

  I step back. No, not him. Please, don’t let him fall into that hole like Savva did...

  I grab the booze bottle and put it back under the sink. The last time I drank from that bottle, Savva was still alive. Maybe it’s good that it gets emptied out. I decide not to pour it down. It might cost only twenty bucks, but it’s twenty bucks I can’t afford to piss away.

  I put it away, and as I straighten, I look over at Savva’s old apartment.

  No light. No light in your eyes, I think.

  I turn to Deck, and he’s straightened. Looking like a bum off the street. Or a boy who’s just watched his father get murdered in front of him.

  “You OK?” I ask him.

  He wipes a hand down his face. Eyes red and bleary. He croaks, “I guess.”

  I hold the empty booze glass in my hand, look at it a second, then put it away. “I’ll buy you a new bottle. I just...I just needed a drink. Several...actually.”

  I wash the glass. “It’s cheap liquor. Don’t worry about it.”

  I hear him getting up behind me. Bullets of fear fire at me. Will he survive this? Will this change what we have, new and fresh though it may be? Will I survive it if he turns to drink? Because less than a week ago, he was dropping pills. Can I go through that again? Can I be with someone addicted to a substance?

  “I’m...gonna jump in the shower.”

  I turn to face him. “Sure.”

  “You, uh, wanna join me?”

  I can’t help the grin from appearing on my face. His radiant blue eyes glow under a tangled mass of yellow hair. “I’d...uhm...love to.”

  He doesn’t smile. But I can understand that. “Awesome.”

  In the shower, he drinks of me again. I’m not Canadian Club, but I might as well be. I feel his need for me.

  Like a drug.

  And I don’t know how I feel about that.

  Water intermingles in between our lips as we kiss. Gasping for air, he says, “I’m out of rubbers.”

  “I’m on the pill.”

  He pulls back, questioning eyes searching me. “You trust me that much?”

  “Can I?”

  He answers with actions. He puts my back to the wall. Then, while guiding himself inside me, he says, “Of course you can.”

  When he enters me, I wrap my arms around his neck for stability. He rides into me, pressing and lifting. Groaning maddeningly. Hunting, searching, looking for peace.

  Desperately, he explodes inside me.

  And a sting of an orgasm rushes through me quickly. Just enough to quicken my breath. Just enough to make my body go limp.

  He keeps riding me, slowly, even though he’s done. And this is something—in the few times we’ve made love now—that I’ve already come to adore: How he rides me slowly after, as if we were able to make love with no end.

  I hold him inside me when he tries to take himself out. “No, do that some more.”

  And he does. He stays in me. Rocking. Pushing. Moving side to side and in and out. Finally, he softens completely. And he slides out.

  “That was amazing.” I look up at him.

  I can feel the difference. The shattering of all defensive walls I had around him before. Around anyone. It all changed yesterday. I feel completely bared to him now, emotionally, spiritually. Taking off my clothes wasn’t what did it.

  It was letting him inside me...

  And that has nothing to do with sex.

  He entered me completely yesterday. And now, I’m his. Fully.

  “For me too.” I think he sees something in my eyes, because he quickly tells me, “Blaze, I’m OK by the way. Just in case you were wondering.” He moves back and lets me under the showerhead to warm up.

  “OK.”

  He turns me, starts soaping my back. “No, I am. It was...gruesome, but...you need t
o understand that he and I weren’t close, Blaze.”

  “You mentioned that.”

  “And you really need to know it. Because we weren’t. What makes it so hard was...how fucking gory it was.” His hand pauses a moment, then soaps me up again. He turns me. “And that, in a way, we’d made peace just before it happened.”

  I move back, let him under the shower water. “I guess that’s a good thing.”

  He looks away. “Maybe. It hurts more because of it.” Chin trembling, he finishes off with, “Makes me miss the bastid because of it.” We share a moment of silence, then he looks back at me, grabs some soap, lathes my breasts. “I loved yesterday, Blaze. I loved it with you. I want you to know that it wasn’t just sex to me. It was a connection. And I appreciate our first time having been after...that. I really needed it.”

  A little embarrassed, I look down and away. “I was pretty certain it wouldn’t be just sex with you. Which is why I let you inside me.”

  He moves me closer to him, so that our chests touch and the shower water sprays down on both of us. “Was I...the first?”

  “No! Why? Was I...bad?”

  “You were fucking amazing, Blaze. I’ve never had sex like that before. Because...I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I...never knew there was an additional level to it. An emotional one. And that made the physical connection a thousand times more intense.”

  His words make me hot. And a little needy. “The way we’re fucking, you’d think we’d been denied it for all our lives.”

  He laughs, turns off the shower. “Well, I hadn’t had it for a few months. Just FYI.”

  “Oh.” We step out the shower. He wraps me in a towel. Then starts patting my breasts dry. My nipples tighten even harder—and it isn’t only the sudden cold. “I—uhm. Look, why did you ask me if you were my first?”