Dirtiest Lie Read online

  Contents

  KINDLE Header

  BLURB

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Other Amazon

  DIRTIEST LIE

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright, Legal Notice and Disclaimer:

  DIRTIEST LIE © 2015 by Cleo Peitsche. All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission in writing from the author. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events, locations and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This book is for entertainment purposes only.

  This book contains mature content and is solely for adults.

  Cover Photo ©2015 by Cormar Covers.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for purchasing this ebook. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I look forward to sharing more of my stories with you.

  Why join my mailing list? Because I release new stories at a special price to thank my readers!

  xoxo,

  Cleo

  Other Titles By Cleo

  After Forever/Bisexual Billionaire Trilogy (Threesome Romance) Careless

  Hopeless

  Fearless

  After Forever Box Set

  Office Toy Series (BDSM Gang Bang Romance)

  Office Toy

  Client Satisfaction

  Company Vacation

  Flex Time

  Soft Skills

  Executive Package

  Executive Toy Series (BDSM Gang Bang Romance) Executive Toy

  Professional Sin

  Dangerously Big

  Trickiest Job

  Dirtiest Lie

  Forbidden Fix (coming soon)

  By a Dangerous Man (BDSM Erotic Romantic Suspense) Season One

  Trapped by a Dangerous Man

  Wanted by a Dangerous Man

  Saved by a Dangerous Man

  Tempted by a Dangerous Man

  Seduced by a Dangerous Man

  Season Two

  Dared by a Dangerous Man

  Broken by a Dangerous Man

  Pursued by a Dangerous Man (coming soon)

  Desired by a Dangerous Man (coming soon)

  Protected by a Dangerous Man (coming soon)

  The Shark Shifter Paranormal Romance

  Touching Paradise

  Master of the Deep

  Oceans Untamed

  Blood in the Water

  Shark Burn

  Take Me Hard Series (BDSM Romance)

  Ride Me Hard

  Love Me Hard

  Use Me Hard

  Take Me Hard Compilation #1

  Push Me Hard

  Fantasy Playland Series (BDSM)

  Sleeping Lady

  Sleeping chez Sade

  Wide Awake

  Wide Open

  His Kiss

  Fantasy Playland Box Set

  Mistress Moi Series (Femdom)

  My Three Slaves

  Cuckold Chuck

  Faye-Faye and the Sadist

  Bad Boyfriend Series (Femdom Romance)

  Bad Boyfriend

  DIRTIEST LIE (#5)

  Lindsay needs to trust someone other than herself, and that means confiding her darkest secret to her billionaire bosses.

  The secret that turned her into a desperate runaway seven years ago.

  The secret that will destroy her innocent sister’s life.

  With her cruel grandfather now aware of Lindsay’s location, time is running out. He’s coming for her, and each of her options can only lead to disaster.

  Trusting Romeo, Slade, and Hawthorne will save her.

  It will destroy her, too.

  Chapter 1

  In the darkness of my boss’s guest bedroom, I stare into my phone’s warm glow while I scroll through job ads in cities far away.

  I woke after only an hour of sleep, coming back to consciousness gripped in icy panic. Fear is nothing new to me, but years have passed since I last felt like this.

  A sales position in San Diego catches my eye. I tap on the listing and begin reading about the company. It’s not that I’m planning to skip town, but this is soothing, looking at new cities, new positions, and imagining starting over, becoming invisible again.

  Invisibility comforts me. That might sound at odds with my appearance, my long, platinum blonde hair, my excruciatingly careful attention to my makeup and wardrobe, but I’ve learned that projecting an image of my choosing is the second best thing to invisibility. If I could turn invisible, I’d take it in an instant.

  A slight creak somewhere in the mansion sets my heart racing.

  This time, at least, I don’t jump out of bed, ready to run. I don’t even sit up. But even though I know I’m perfectly safe here, in Romeo’s mansion, my stomach clenches and a bitter taste sours my mouth.

  I could go to Romeo’s bedroom. I think he would let me into his bed.

  But I can’t bring myself to do it. My cowardice shames me. Romeo would take one look, and he would see my fragility. While I know he would soothe it away, I also know I’d regret it in the morning.

  What I need is sleep. All this adrenaline constantly surging through my veins is exhausting.

  My thumb mashes the side of my phone and the screen goes dark. On a deep inhale that fills my lungs with the fresh scent of clean sheets, I summon pleasant thoughts.

  Like my bosses, and how lucky I am that they’re going to help me. I’m still not sure how we can fix everything; their idea of solving my problems is unlikely to mesh with mine. One misstep and I’ll get caught, and my grandfather will… what?

  Have me institutionalized. If I’m lucky.

  Damn, Lindsay. Way to focus on the positive.

  My thoughts shift to Bandit, my wise yet silly cat, the supplier of constant affection and cat hair.

  But he isn’t here. In fact, he’s under observation in a vet clinic in Milford Crossing, a day’s drive away. He’s sitting in a cage, probably wondering what he did to deserve such punishment.

  I use all my energy to push back the guilt. Bandit will be fine. That’s all that matters.

  Slowly, I force the air out between my lips, and I close my eyes. Just another hour of sleep will make all the difference.

  Miraculously, I drift into a sort of twilight, a magical darkness that takes me to a dinner with my three bosses. Slade, his aristocratic laugh pleasant while he cracks jokes with Romeo, who surreptitiously checks his cell phone to make sure he doesn’t miss a single business call. And Hawthorne… being Hawthorne. That is, slightly snobby, his piercing blue eyes quick to judge me.

  A floorboard creaks. The bedroom door sighs, a draft moves across my skin.

  My eyes fly open.

  Silhouetted against the faint hallway light, the broad-shouldered man says my name. His voice is a soft rumble of thunder on a summer evening. “Lindsay? Are you awake?”

  Instead of answering, I close my eyes almost all the way and peek through my lashes.

  Romeo doesn’t ask again.

  Instead, he moves deeper into the room. His muscular arms are full of something, but it’s not until he arranges it over the back of a chair that I suspect it’s clothing. Squinting, I catch a glimpse of shoes.

  They look like high heels.

  Like crazy, sky-high, break your ankle, put a chiropractor on speed dial heels.


  But that can’t be right. Last night, my bosses worked me through a bizarre ritual where they divested me of my sexy clothing. Special attention was paid to my high heels. All the while my bosses said they were freeing me.

  Any outfit that Romeo brings me to wear will be comfortable… and boring. Schoolmarm, with miles of itchy textiles and high necklines. Clothes that won’t make me invisible but will instead render me powerless, unable to smile and flirt my way out of trouble.

  He smooths one of his large hands over the clothing, and in the silence of the room, I hear the rustle of fabric, then soft thumps as Romeo arranges the shoes just so.

  Then he turns to look at me, and I quickly close my eyes to slits.

  Moving silently, he comes closer. The scent of his aftershave is faint, from the morning before. His pajamas, of indeterminate color in the dark, nevertheless glide around his muscular legs and shimmer like silk. They sit tantalizingly low on his hips, giving me an unobstructed view of sculpted abs.

  It takes all my control not to fully open my eyes and gawk at him.

  It’s rare to see Romeo like this. For all the hassle he gives me about my padded pushup bras, he’s the kind of businessman who wears a tailored Italian suit even on the weekends.

  He bends over me. I can feel the warmth of his body.

  I think of the platonic night I spent in his bed, and that makes me close my eyes all the way… because I don’t want to want things I can’t have.

  “You’re not asleep.” His deep voice is soft but amused.

  He clicks on a light.

  Slowly, I raise my gaze to meet his.

  Immediately I’m sucked into the depths of his brown eyes.

  Romeo is handsome, even compared to movie stars and male models. His jawline and cheekbones are softened by symmetrical features. His is a rare masculine beauty. Despite his thick muscles and his resemblance to the powerful animal that gives him his surname—Wood Bison—he is every inch a sophisticated businessman.

  Even now, in his black silk pajama bottoms, he radiates authority, commands respect and deference.

  “Time to get up,” he says. He reaches out, and I think he’s going to caress my cheek, but at the last moment his hand drops and he begins peeling back the sheet I’m wrapped up in.

  I’m wearing one of his T-shirts, and it got hiked up over my hips while I slept.

  And that’s all I’ve got on.

  The sheet exposes the twisted bottom of the shirt, then my ribs… my stomach… my hips…

  Cool air swirls as he continues uncovering me.

  He stops, and very slowly, his gaze travels down my body. A tingling sensation makes my arms pop into goosebumps.

  “No panties,” he says.

  Hot prickles spread over my cheeks and throat.

  It must be explained that Romeo has seen me in some very compromising positions. He—along with my other two bosses—has done things to me that most women will never experience. Intimate things.

  I glance down and see my nipples are stiff peaks distorting the borrowed shirt. I’m lying partially on my side, and my legs are scissored a little.

  It’s enough for him to see the mound of my sex, but at least I’m not completely flashing him.

  In other words, it could be worse.

  “Go take your shower,” he rumbles as he drops the sheet and steps back.

  Almost trembling, I get up and walk quickly to the bathroom.

  ~

  By the time I emerge from the bathroom, smelling like sweet pea and vanilla, Romeo is gone.

  The door is open, and I hear his voice somewhere in the mansion.

  I adjust the towel and tilt my head. Footsteps sound out on the stairs. I can tell he’s no longer barefoot, which I suppose means he’s dressed and I won’t get to ogle his hulking muscles.

  He’s still talking, and I realize he’s already on the phone. Of course he is.

  “Could you please hold a moment?” he says as he crosses the threshold. He mutes his call.

  He’s wearing a dark suit. No necktie, but his striped grayish shirt is buttoned to the top, so I suppose he just hasn’t gotten around to putting one on yet. I wonder if he chooses his clothes the night before or if he just grabs whatever’s handy. Despite how closely I’ve been watching him and how much I pride myself on gleaning insights from other people’s behavior, I honestly can’t guess.

  Then I wonder if he ever makes phone calls when he’s still in his pajamas. Something tells me he doesn’t.

  “That’s what you’ll wear to the office,” he says, indicating the chair with the clothing draped over the back. I’d forgotten about it.

  The chair is facing away from us, and I have to walk around.

  The clothing is all black, so it’s difficult to discern the outlines of the different pieces, but I can make out a few items.

  Super-high stilettos, in black.

  A black garter belt.

  Black sheer thigh-highs with delicate lace tops. The stockings look like a run waiting to happen.

  And… a padded bra.

  There’s enough extra oomph in each cup to double as a pillow.

  Confused, I stare at Romeo. “You want me to wear these things?”

  “For your first day of training,” he says. “You’ll have a change of wardrobe at the office, and you’ll wear that for the second half of the day. Get dressed.”

  Instead of leaving, he leans on the edge of one of the dressers and resumes his phone call. He’s discussing real estate, something about a luxury hotel in Zurich.

  Inside, I’m almost giddy. I was afraid of having to walk around in dowdy dresses and ugly shoes.

  It’s almost enough to take my mind off my other worries.

  I’ve worn stockings before, but they were always the kind with a sticky, rubbery grip on the inside of the lace. Garter belts? Sensual in photos but I’ve never worn one in my life. I turn it over, trying to differentiate the front from the back. There are so many straps…

  “Where are the panties?” I mouth to Romeo.

  He shakes his head.

  No panties?

  Okay…

  I slide into the stockings, then the bra.

  Oh, the bra is heaven. It is the most beautiful, most perfect bra in the history of mankind. My breasts aren’t my greatest asset, but cradled in swollen satin, pushed up and together, I’ve got cleavage. Swollen creamy mounds that tremble when I breathe, my breasts are perfectly displayed in the silky black cups.

  “Let me call you back,” Romeo says, and he hangs up the phone. “Would you like help with the garter?”

  “I… yes.” And I blush. I’m not usually a blusher, but Romeo has that effect on me.

  He takes up the garter belt.

  Watching his large hands adjust the various straps is fascinating. Finally he puts the belt around my waist, hooks it in the back, and fastens the snaps onto the stockings.

  And all the while, my sex is bare. Not that you’d know it from Romeo’s efficient movements. I wish that just once, he would lose the stranglehold he has on his self-control.

  I wish he would touch me.

  “Sit on the bed,” he says, picking up the heels.

  I sit, and he slides my feet into the shoes. They’re not going to be comfortable, but they make my legs long and elegant.

  When I stand, I’m tall.

  Still not nearly as tall as Romeo, but it feels nice. Powerful. I wish I were going to a club, not the office.

  Romeo hands me the rest of the clothes. The black blouse isn’t tight, and it’s a little shimmery, very luxurious to the touch. As I do up the buttons, I notice that it flows over my skin like molten chocolate.

  In contrast, the skirt is tight. It goes to my knees and would be perfect except I can’t take very big steps. It’s like someone forgot to snip the stitch holding the slit closed.

  Except there is no slit.

  Trying not to be obvious about it, I steal a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Even though
my hair is still damp, I look almost glamorous. The quiet sensuality of the blouse and skirt works with the tasteful stockings to offset the shoes, their blaring sex appeal.

  Sex appeal? If they weren’t so obviously expensive, they’d be trampy.

  “Finish getting ready.” Romeo leaves, closing the door behind him.

  My makeup is in the bathroom, lined up on the sink. Walking across the room takes twice as many steps as it should thanks to the skirt and because of the height of the heels.

  I can walk in them—I love sexy shoes and I’ve had plenty of practice—but it’s not easy. These are more like frenemies than friends; they’re pretending to be on my side but secretly they’re plotting to break my neck.

  My elation at not having to dress like a frump begins to fade as I realize what Romeo’s game is. He’s trying to make me overdose on the things I like so much. Some kind of avoidance therapy.

  Mind games aren’t his style, but I can’t think of another reason he would have chosen this ensemble.

  Chapter 2

  I sit in the back of the limo, my hands folded in my lap. The seats are slippery, and the interior smells faintly of lemon.

  Even though it’s a bright and sunny morning, and even though I don’t think the air conditioning is on, my fingers are chilled; I can feel them like icicles through the skirt.

  My body is folded into a socially inferior position. It’s not something I’d ever want anyone to see, but I might as well be alone. Romeo’s on his phone, his deep voice rumbling seductively on his favorite subject: business. Despite my stop-the-traffic outfit, the man isn’t paying attention to me.

  Today, that’s fine. I’m so jittery that I could vibrate right out of my skin. It feels good to slouch a bit, to fold my arms across my chest and cross my legs. It comforts me.

  Whenever the limo stops at a light, I brace myself, expecting Kidnapper Joe to surge out of nowhere, rip the door open and drag me, kicking and screaming, back to Milford Crossing.