Page 31 of Lie With Me
Tripp seems slightly surprised by it, too, his eyes widening a fraction before his eyebrow raises. “You’re marrying into the family. She’s going to want to know about you.”
“And like you said, I’m a good actress. Let's not give her a reason to feel like she needs to dig.”
His eyes don’t leave my face as the waitress brings our food. Before I can take a bite, Tripp gently grabs my chin and makes me look at him. “Thank you. I really appreciate you doing this.”
“I still think it’s a bad idea,” I whisper into the space between us.
His thumb strokes my bottom lip as he stares at my mouth. “I can’t think of a single bad thing about it.”
His arm on the back of the booth wraps around me, fingers cradling my neck to pull me forward for a kiss. It’s chaste. Soft and sweet, yet still filled with the same amount of passion as all our other kisses.
Tingles spread down my chest and through mybody to the tips of my toes like glitter falling through the air. They tickle and flutter against my insides, and my legs press together to help relieve a little of the ache that starts to build in my core.
Tripp lets out a throaty chuckle, letting go of my chin to cup the inside of my thigh, fingers dangerously close to brushing against the part of me that feels like it’s on fire. “God, I could spend all day in bed with you. How the fuck are you single?”
I’d asked him the same thing our first night together. If he remembers, he doesn’t show any sign of it. My cheeks heat as his fingers slide up the tiniest bit. His head tilts, nose brushing along the column of my throat to whisper in my ear, “We have so much to do today, and all I want to do is take you downstairs and fuck you in the backseat of my car.”
Swallowing thickly, I cross my legs to trap his fingers just as they reach the apex of my thighs and press against my center. My hips move against his hand slowly as I brace my arm on the table and hope, to whatever higher power exists, that no one is watching us.
“What do we have to do today?” I ask him breathily as he presses harder, fingertips finding my clit through the fabric of my leggings.
“Well, for starters, we should probably get you a ring.” His tone is husky and quiet, barely restrained as he rubs between my legs with varying pressures while trying to be discreet so we don’t alert anyone else of our public indecency.
“A ring?” My eyes close as I feel that delicious pressure start to build.
“No one will believe I proposed without a ring. My mother is going to be beside herself that I didn’t ask for the family ring again.”
“Don’t bring up your mother while you're trying to get me off. Also, I don’t want something that was on Emily’s finger. I’d like to pick out my own fake diamond.” My fingers encircle his wrist, pressing his hand against me harder.
He sucks air through his teeth, talking through his clenched jaw as he zeroes in on my face. “Oh, I can promise you, Viv. There won’t be anything fake about it. Now come for me.”
I’ve never understood how women could come on command. Honestly, I’ve always thought they just faked it. Tripp’s authoritative tone rips my orgasm from me, though, and a small whimper leaves my lips as I do my best to keep quiet.
He marvels at me, continuing to move his fingers as I ride it out. “Good girl,” he whispers against my lips. “You’re such a good fucking girl for me, aren’t you?”
Speechless, all I can do is nod. Praise has never been something I’ve been into. It’s never interested me because it’s usuallymedoing the praising, not the other way around.
But when Tripp calls me a good girl? My insides turn to literal fucking goo.
It's just another sign that this will all end very,verybadly.
Tripp’s phone goes off while we’re in the back of his car being driven somewhere he won’t tell me. “It’s my mother,” he says.
Making a motion for him not to answer the phone, my hand drops into my lap defeatedly as he slides the bar on the screen and presses the button to put it on speaker. “Mother, to what do I owe the pleasure this afternoon?”
“I was just calling to confirm that we’re still on for breakfast Tuesday morning, dear. I made reservations at The Palm Court for nine. Does that work? You weren’t exactly forthcoming about your…fiancée,so I wasn’t sure if she had a job from which she needed a lunch break.”
According to Google—yes, I went home last night and finally Googled Tripp and his family—Margo Kennedy is a socialite who knows everything and everyone that matters in their upper crust society. She came from money before she met Tripp’s dad, Weylan, and sits on the board of numerous associations around the city.
With such a sudden engagement, there’s no way she won’t be suspicious of me. Either I will have to act like a picture-perfect Mary Sue like Emily, or I will have to make sure Margo doesn’t see me as a threat and will assume things between me and Tripp won’t last.
Making a split decision, I reply before Tripp can. “Breakfast sounds perfect, Margo. I’m so looking forward to meeting you.”
Strike one: being too informal.
Tripp rolls his eyes, smirking and shaking his head, while the other end of the line is heavy with silence. Finally, Margo sounds like she’s speaking through a sour smile as she asks, “And who do I have thepleasureof speaking with?”
“Oh, silly me, sometimes I forget we don’t know each other. Tripp is always talking so highly of you, and I feel as though I’m already a part of the family. I’m Valentina. Can’t wait to see you and Weylan on Tuesday. We have to run now, though. Tripp is taking me shopping! Bye!” Reaching over, I hit the button to end the call while Tripp stares wide-eyed at me.