Liar by Kristina Weaver Read Free Book Online Page A

of course it hadn’t been apparent before last night, I’d had delicious and incredible sex with a man who was about to become my stepbrother. I stared at Peter, and he smiled at me for our parents’ benefit, pressing his finger all too knowingly against the zipper of my pants, just enough pressure to send a spike of pleasure right against my clit. I had to cough to cover a groan.
    “I think it’s wonderfully serendipitous that you’re working for the family company, Gemma,” Frank said. “And more wonderful, still, that Pete’s taken you under his wing.”
    He had me under a lot more than a wing last night, but neither of our parents needed to know that truth.
    “It’s a dream job,” I said, “it really is. I was just so thankful to get it. I’ve gotten a lot of great experience under my belt, so to speak.”
    “She definitely has,” Peter said, eyeing me suggestively. If there had been a way to punch him without our parents noticing, I would’ve done it. He was coming on too strong, but if Frank or my mother noticed, it didn’t show. They were too full of each other, too excited by this strange mystery of my career that had made itself apparent.
    “Did you realize that it’s Gemma’s birthday today?” my mother asked. “She almost had to miss this little get-together because of an event you asked her to attend.”
    “Mother, please,” I hissed from between my teeth as Peter fondled me under the tablecloth. I was torn between squeezing my legs tightly shut or throwing them wide to afford him better access. I was a bundle of nerves and arousal, which couldn’t be a good mix for this reality I had to maintain. This was something I never could’ve imagined happening. Peter seemed to be taking it all in stride.
    “I do like to keep Gemma here busy,” he said, “but when I found out it was her birthday, I told her that she should definitely come to dinner instead of the event.” He laughed. “Now, little did I know it would be the same dinner I was attending. It’s much like work, unfortunately, isn’t it, Gemma?”
    “A lot of work,” I managed to say as he drew patterns over my upper thighs, kneading the muscles there with practiced ease.
    “So, what part of France will you be going to?” my mother asked, her eyes lighting up when our food was brought out and placed in front of us. I didn’t remember ordering, realizing that Frank and my mother must’ve done so before I’d arrived. It was much like Peter ordering my drinks for me last night. In fact, a lot of things were happening now that had happened last night. I was so aroused that my face was flushed red.
    “Are you all right, Gemma?” my mother asked. “What’s embarrassed you about that question? I was just curious about France.”
    “Nothing,” I yelped. “I’m just — maybe it’s the wine.” I took a purposeful swig of a glass I hadn’t touched yet. “I feel it’s maybe a little dense in here, the air.”
    “Let me help you with your blazer, then,” Peter said smoothly. “It is a bit stuffy in here.” His fingers grazed my bare shoulders, down my arms as I had no choice but to oblige him, undressing me right there at the table.
    “That’s better,” I said, fanning my face and smiling for effect. “Thank you.”
    “My pleasure.”
    I crossed my legs so that he would be obstructed from continuing to make a fool out of me in front of our parents, and he made a sound in his throat that fell somewhere between disappointed and amused.
    “France?” Frank prompted. “You were about to tell us what part of France you were traveling to for the new acquisition.”
    “Can you believe him?” Peter laughed, directing the question at my mother. “My old man can’t let the company go. He has to be involved in every single facet. Don’t I have it well in hand, Dad?”
    “I was the one who made that company,” Frank said mildly, cutting the meat on his plate. I swiftly remembered such a thing called eating, and