Filthy Beautiful Lust

  Filthy Beautiful Lies, Volume 3

  By Kendall Ryan

  Copyright © 2014 Kendall Ryan

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover Design by Helen Williams of All Booked Out

  Editing by Ellie of LoveNBooks

  About the Book

  Pace Drake loves sex. He knows where get it, what to say, what to do, and he makes no apologies for satisfying his needs. But when he meets single mom, Kylie Sloan, he's enthralled by her, and begins to question his standard operating procedure. After all, there's no chase, no mystery when banging a woman in a nightclub bathroom. Kylie's depth and determination make the sloppy, drunken hookups that fill his weekends seem empty and shallow. She's the opposite of the desperate, clingy women he's used to. She doesn’t want or need anyone to take care of her and that only makes him want to care for her more.

  Kylie's trust in men has vanished. The last guy she was with played ding-dong-ditch-it with her uterus and left her with a baby to raise. Now her infant son is the only man she has time for, even if she misses sex and intimacy more than she'd ever admit. Opening her heart up to a younger man who's best known for no-strings-attached sex and his casual lifestyle is probably the worst idea she's ever had. But Pace wants to prove to her there are still a few good guys left, and watching the sweet way he interacts with her baby makes her want to try…but she can really trust that his days of hitting it and quitting it are in his past?

  Chapter One

  Pace

  The blonde on my arm is driving me nuts. If it weren't for her giant fake tits, that I very much want to play with later, I would have ditched her at the door.

  We're at a fancy gala for Colton's charity, and the five thousand dollar a plate dinner is designed to bring in the last of the donations needed to ensure the school and hospital he plans to open are fully funded in the years to come. It's a great cause. But all I want to do is leave.

  "Pace," my date says, tugging on my tuxedo-clad elbow. "Which one is your brother again?"

  The one that looks exactly fucking like me, I want to answer. Instead, I point straight ahead to where Colton is standing talking with a group of benefactors. "Right there in the center. That's Colton. And his fiancé Sophie is beside him."

  We've been mistaken for twins numerous times. He's three years older, but we share many similar features – tall stature, dark hair, deep blue eyes. The main difference – where Colton is hard edges and serious expressions – I'm friendly, open and relaxed. Life is too damn short to take so seriously. But apparently, grasping our similarities is beyond the capabilities of her three brain cells.

  "Are you going to introduce me?" she asks.

  She wants to meet my family? No. But rather than provide her with an answer she doesn't want to hear, I choose that moment to take a swig of my bourbon and pretend I didn't hear her.

  I'd invited Sheena here tonight after meeting her at my health club. I didn't want to come to Colton and Sophie's big event alone and thought it might be nice to have someone to talk to over dinner. Unfortunately the only thing Sheena wanted to discuss was her recent enhancements and how the plastic surgeon convinced her to go to a bigger cup size and how she thought he only wanted to sleep with her.

  Well no shit he wanted to fuck you sweetheart. Line forms to the left, gentleman.

  After enduring two hours with the date from hell, all I want to do is fuck her in my car, and drop her off at home. Classy, I know. But you try spending ten thousand dollars on dinner for the world's most annoying date. I deserve a blow job at the very least.

  Something tells me that on Monday I'll be looking for a new health club…

  I've changed gyms six times this year. The cancellation fees are killing me. Maybe it's time to rethink my pick up strategy. Nah. There are lots of places in town with treadmills and free weights, and I have no problem switching clubs just to avoid running into my former hookups.

  "Let's get you another champagne," I say, steering her toward the bar.

  Once Sheena is situated on a bar stool, I slip away, making an excuse to use the men's room. Instead I head straight for where Sophie and Kylie are talking across the room.

  My brother's fiancé, Sophie Evans, looks great tonight. Long silky dress, jewels at her throat and her hair is twisted up in some type of knot. She looks happy.

  "Hey, sis," I greet her with a kiss to the back of her hand.

  I won't treat her any differently after her sister's passing, because I know she wouldn’t want it, but I do try to be sweet to her. After everything she's been through, she didn't break, and I'm so thankful. Colton needs a strong woman, and Sophie is the perfect complement to him. I don’t plan to settle down anytime soon, but one day I hope to find a girl as good as Sophie. I still think his story about how they met and why she’d moved in was bullshit, but it didn’t really matter. Colt was a lucky guy, and he knew it.

  "Hi, Pace." Sophie grins up at me.

  Next I turn to Kylie, who I've been trying to figure out for the past several months. She works for my brother, running the office operations for his charity, and I'm pretty sure she's responsible for tonight's gala. She's stunning – in a deep purple gown that flows beautifully over her curves, fiery auburn hair that falls in loose waves over her shoulders and brilliant green eyes that sparkle on mine. The way she watches me sends tingles shooting down my body, pulsing in my groin. My cock begins to swell. What the fuck? She's exquisite and classy and put together. The complete fucking opposite of my date.

  "It's a great event. Congratulations," I lift her hand to my mouth and whisper against the back of it while watching her eyes.

  She flinches at the contact and tugs her hand back, but treats me to a kind smile. "Thank you, Pace." The tone of her warm voice wrapping around my name is fucking sinful. I want to hear her moan out my name when she climaxes, I want to see her green eyes darken with lust, and watch her completely come apart beneath me.

  I know she's a single mom, and I should just steer clear. She's nothing like the women I typically date, but something about her hypnotizes me.

  "Where's your date?" Sophie asks.

  "I'm not sure," I lie. I can see her from the corner of my eye, she's still at the bar and seems to be chatting it up with the bartender. Good. Maybe I can offload her on him tonight. I wouldn’t mind going home instead with the elegant and sophisticated beauty I see before me.

  "I was hoping to meet her," Sophie says.

  Sophie doesn’t understand there's a reason I've never introduced her to any of the women I'm seeing. They're all temporary. And besides, I doubt they'd hit it off. Sophie’s interests go a little deeper than nail polish and handbags. My brother chose well.

  "Isn't that the woman you were with?" Kylie asks, pointing across the room.

  I follow her gaze to Sheena.

  Fuck.

  Sheena is currently bent backwards over the top of the bar. Her tits are practically hanging out, and she's letting the bartender pour shots of tequila down her throat.

  Christ. This isn't a college frat party. It’s an exclusive black-tie affair for millionaires and politicians and the nation's leading entrepreneurs. We're here for an important cause, not to get wasted and dance on the damn bar. But something tells me my date doesn't get that.

  I don’t often feel embarrassed, and shit, I love to cut loose and have fun as much as anyone, but this is not the time, nor the place. My face flushes slightly
and I clench my jaw.

  I like a woman who knows how to handle herself – someone poised and put together when she needs to be and freaky as hell in between the sheets. My eyes find Kylie's and something tells me she'd be that kind of woman.

  "Yeah, Sheena's fun," I say, clenching my fists in an attempt to hide my true feelings.

  Kylie frowns. "I introduced myself to her earlier, and she said her name was Trina."

  "Shit. Is it?" I rub a hand through my hair. The look in her eyes tells me this is a piece of information I should have known.

  Sophie excuses herself a moment later, and I'm thankful for the private moment with Kylie.

  "Can I get you something else to drink?" I offer, tossing her a flirty grin.

  Her answering smile is coy, guarded. "Shouldn’t you be getting back to your date?"

  A quick look over my shoulder at Sheena, or Trina, or whoever the hell she is, tells me I have no desire to spend any more time with her. In contrast to the beautiful woman standing before me, my date is all but forgotten. I might have thought she was sexy before, but now, I'm seeing her more clearly. Her dress is too short and her breasts are too big, even for my sizeable hands, while Kylie, in comparison, is perfectly proportioned–soft and curvy–just like a woman should be. I wouldn’t mind devoting hours to exploring the valleys of her body. With my tongue. And my cock. The bastard throbs at the thought.

  "She looks pretty well taken care of right now," I remark.

  The bartender is all but ignoring the other customers in his eagerness to talk to her. He can have her for all I care. Good luck, buddy.

  Kylie sets down her empty wine glass on the tray of a passing waiter. "I'm actually not much of a drinker. A glass of wine or two is generally my limit."

  Good to know. I file that information away. Remembering her kid, I ask about him. "Where's Max tonight?"

  She smiles lightly as though thinking about her baby brightens her mood. I like that, and I don't have a frigging clue why. "His nanny stayed late tonight. I'm sure he's in bed by now."

  I still recall that day in the pool last summer when I'd taken the crying baby from her and entertained him all afternoon. I couldn't even be sure why I'd done it. I suppose, looking back, she just looked like she could use a hand. I've never liked seeing a woman struggle. Although a damsel in distress, she is not. I get the sense she's not the type to back down from a challenge and has enough strength and determination to succeed at just about anything she tried. A sexy quality, to be sure.

  As we stand there, me sipping my bourbon, and Kylie grinning politely at the crowd, the silence between us grows. I feel like we have nothing in common, and I'm at a loss, trying to think of something to say, anything that will keep this beauty in my presence. There are so many things I want to know about her, but none of them are any of my goddamn business. How she tastes, what noises she makes when she comes. I also want to know how she ended up a single mother, and if Max's dad is still in the picture. I tried asking Colton about it once, but he remained incredibly vague. The asshat. If there was a worst wingman award, it would go to my brother.

  "Have dinner with me this week," I say. It wasn't what I'd been planning to say, but once the words leave my mouth, they feel right.

  "Pace, that's sweet of you to ask, but I can't…" She pauses, like she wants to say more, but doesn't. Her body language is all wrong too. Where women are normally vying to get closer, placing their hand on my bicep, or even brushing their breasts against my arm, Kylie stands straight and tall, like she wants to avoid physical contact at all costs.

  "Are you here with someone?" I ask. It's also absolutely none of my business, but I'd happily shell out ten grand just to find out if she's fucking someone.

  "No," she confirms.

  "No boyfriend?" I press further. I need to know what I'm up against.

  "There's been no one since Max's father," she says quietly.

  My inner alpha male beats on his chest in triumph. "That's quite a dry spell."

  "Indeed," she murmurs.

  "It's just dinner, Kylie. It's not like I'm offering to step in and play daddy." I treat her to a playful, crooked smile, my dimple out in full force. I've heard it's quite irresistible and that's what I'm banking on.

  "That's exactly why I can't. I'm sorry."

  Fuck. Why am I such a fucking idiot?

  "Oh," I stammer, at a loss for words for the first damn time in my life. Christ. Grow a pair, Pace.

  "Besides, something tells me if you're interested in a woman like that," Kylie tips her chin toward the bar where Sheena, or Trina, is making a spectacle of herself, "you can't possibly be interested in a woman like me."

  Hold the fuck on. Now that's where she's wrong. "Why's that?" I ask, meeting her fiery green gaze. If she's about to criticize herself, I will not hold back in proving to her how very wrong she is.

  "Pace," she admonishes. "Look at her. They look…inflatable."

  When I realize she's not tearing herself down, but instead chastising my taste in women, I almost want to laugh. "A woman like that is good for only one thing and we both know it," I say.

  She raises her eyebrows, waiting for me to explain.

  "One good fuck," I continue.

  "You're crass." Her eyes light up, and her mouth twitches in an attempt not to smile.

  "I'm direct, and you like it."

  She shrugs. "At least you're honest. That's more than I can say for most men."

  "Go out with me. One time, Kylie. What do you have to lose?"

  I can practically see the wheels turning in her head, and for one brief, beautiful moment I think I might have a chance. "Bye Pace." She turns and walks away, her long legs carrying her across the room while my heart throbs.

  Fuck.

  "Kylie, wait."

  She turns and tosses me a sexy wink. "Go have fun with Malibu Barbie.

  This is not over.

  I play to win.

  Chapter Two

  Kylie

  This is not my real life.

  My real life is not evening gowns and silk panties and fancy dinners. It's heating bottles up at two a.m., spit-up stains on my yoga pants and fishing Cheerios out from between my couch cushions. But it feels amazing to pretend, if only for a brief moment.

  As I sit in the back of the limousine Colton insisted I take, I remove my earrings one at a time and drop them into my handbag. The twinkling city lights blur past as we cruise down the freeway, and my thoughts drift back to the gala. The event had turned out beautifully, even better than I could have expected. But of course it isn’t the details of the fundraiser occupying my brain. It's a certain six-foot, two-inch, well-muscled slice of man named Pace Drake. My boss's younger brother. And there is no way he'd be interested in the real me.

  I chuckle to myself, remembering that he didn't even know his date's name. I should feel outraged that he all but ignored her in favor of paying me compliments and asking me out. Instead I'm strangely flattered. When a man as handsome as Pace paid you attention it felt wonderful. Especially for someone like me. He could have any woman he wanted. And for some strange reason he'd set his sights on me – with my post-pregnancy body that is still curvier than I would have liked.

  But I'd shot him down, which I know is for the best. I have personal experience with men like him. They're looking for no-strings sex. And considering the last guy I was with played ding-dong-ditch-it with my uterus, and left me with a baby to raise, I'm more than a teensy bit skeptical about men like him.

  Max is the only man I have time for these days. And the only man I will give my heart to.

  I can't resist pulling out my iPhone to look at the pictures of Max. Just as I know I won't be able to resist going into his room to listen to the sounds of him breathing and leaning down to his crib to smell his baby scent, even though I know there's a chance it'll wake him. But his chunky baby thighs and big round tummy are too much for this mama to resist.

  It was actually quite sweet of Pace to ask abou
t Max. Last summer, the first time I'd met Pace at Colton's pool party, he carted a screaming, teething Max around all that afternoon, swimming with him in the pool and bouncing him in his big arms. Colton seemed to have no explanation for Pace's sudden interest in the baby. I was convinced it was merely him taking pity on his brother's employee. I was beyond stressed out when Max was cutting his first two teeth. And I'm sure I looked it.

  As flattered as I am about his interest in me, I'm fine with being celibate and focusing on my career and being a mom. Well, that's not entirely true. I do miss having a man in my life. I miss strong arms holding me close, the brush of a stubbled cheek on mine, the feeling of absolute security. When I'm ready to start a relationship again, it will be with a man who makes me feel safe. There is nothing safe about Pace Drake.

  He's as dangerous as they come. Young. Sexy. Wealthy. Carefree. The dark, hungry look in his eyes promised me hot, intense sex. I shiver, recalling the way my body responded under his watchful stare. Yes, I'm sure he'd be a wild beast in bed, probably with a giant cock to match his stamina, not that I will ever know such things.

  As the limo driver pulls to a stop in front of my house, I push all the crazy thoughts from my head. Fantasies are nice, but it's time to get back to my real life.

  Chapter Three

  Pace

  I haven’t stopped thinking about her since Saturday night. No, not Malibu Barbie. I'd accepted her proffered blow job on the drive home – it was mediocre – and then dropped her off at her front door. I haven't heard from her since. Which is just as well, because it's Kylie I can't seem to get out of my brain.

  I had no doubt she saw straight through me because that sassy mouth of hers had called me out on the one-night stand. I know there’s no way we’d fit neatly into each other’s worlds, but I have to try.

  When I arrive at Colton's office just after lunchtime, I find him standing beside his assistant's desk, flipping through a stack of documents.