Lip Service [Private Relations 2] (Siren Publishing Classic)
Private Relations 2
Lip Service
For Chris Marks, his best friend's little sister, Chloe James, has always been off limits. In a moment of weakness he admits his attraction to her and Chloe seizes the opportunity to take what she's always wanted. Him.
On the heels of a break up, Chloe isn't looking to settle down. She's just looking for a good time and she suspects that she'll be able to find that with Chris. Together they explore her submissive side and she discovers that they've got more in common than she ever thought possible.
Chris isn't looking for a relationship. He isn't looking for any sort of emotional attachment at all. He gets far more than he bargained for though, when he starts to have real, deep feelings for Chloe. Will Chloe be able to break through the thick walls that Chris has built around his heart? Will he be brave enough to let her in?
Genre: Contemporary
Length: 54,172 words
LIP SERVICE
Private Relations 2
Michelle Roth
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
LIP SERVICE
Copyright © 2014 by Michelle Roth
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-806-5
First E-book Publication: May 2014
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of Lip Service by Michelle Roth from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Michelle Roth’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Roth’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
www.SirenPublishing.com
www.BookStrand.com
DEDICATION
To my grandma, Beverly. You got this lifelong obsession with romance novels started with a few bags of old books. I bet you never thought one day I’d be writing them. I wish you were here to see it.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
About the Author
LIP SERVICE
Private Relations 2
MICHELLE ROTH
Copyright © 2014
Chapter 1
Chloe stood at the entrance to Deacon’s building, waiting impatiently for him to buzz her in. It was Sunday, and it was football season. Preseason, anyway. They had a standing arrangement to watch the games at his condo.
Deacon’s crackly, disembodied voice came through the intercom, “Hello?”
“Hey, It’s me. Buzz me in?”
“Me, who?”
“Chloe, you ass.”
“Chloe who?”
“Chloe Marie James. Your sister. Let me up, jerk.”
Hearing his tinny laugh through the speaker, Chloe rolled her eyes.
Chloe heard the door unlock, followed by a loud buzzing noise. Grabbing the door, she quickly moved inside, glad she didn’t have to continue standing there in the heat. Summer in California was miserable.
As she made her way to the bank of elevators and waited, she heard a knock. Turning around, she saw Chris there with a six-pack in his hand. She made her way back to the door and opened it for him.
“Hey, thanks. It’s frickin’ hot out there today! Where’s what’s his face?” Chris asked, a look of minor disgust on his face.
Chloe didn’t even know why he was asking, because he clearly hated the guy.
“Peter won’t be coming. We split up.”
Wincing, Chris said, “Shit, Chlo. I’m sorry. I’m an asshole. I didn’t know. You okay?”
Pressing the up arrow on the elevator urgently now, wanting to escape the conversation, she said, “It happened this morning. Via text. I’m pissed off, mostly.”
Chris’s eyebrows shot up and he said, “Via text? That’s harsh.”
“It wasn’t his finest moment.”
“Wait. He broke up with you? How is that even possible?”
The doors to the elevator slid open, and they stepped in. After pressing the button for the seventeenth floor, he said, “Want me to go kick his ass? I’m pretty sure I could take him.”
Snorting, Chloe said, “I’m sure you could, but I’m good, I think.”
“Let me know if that changes. Seriously,” Chris said, pinning her with a look.
As the doors slid open, they walked in silence to Deacon’s door. Chloe raised her hand and knocked.
The door opened after a minute and Deacon said, “Oh. Hey, guys! Where’s Peter?”
“Not coming. Stuff came up. But look who I found instead,” Chloe said, grinning.
Deacon stepped back to let them in, then walked back into his kitchen. Chris shot Chloe a curious look, b
ut made no comment.
Sara looked up from her place on the couch and grinned, saying, “Hey, guys! Nachos and quesadillas in the kitchen if you’re interested.”
Chris walked over, and leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek and said, “Food is so much better on Sundays since you moved in. If you weren’t taken…”
Sara laughed and said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Deacon shouted, “The hell you will, Sara,” from the kitchen.
Laughing, Chris said, “I’m about to get punched, aren’t I?”
Chloe watched gleefully as Deacon stalked out to the living room and punched Chris in the arm.
“Get your own, douche. This one is mine.”
“Ouch! Fuck, dude. Really? You know that was a joke,” Chris said, rubbing his arm.
Laughing, Deacon said, “Which is why I didn’t hit you harder. Wuss.”
Chloe moved to the kitchen, grabbing a bag of pizza rolls from the freezer. Putting it against his wounded arm, she said, “Here you go, cupcake.”
Shooting her a bland look, he raised his middle finger, looking at it, then at her and back again.
Deacon continued to laugh, while Sara bit her lip.
Relenting, Chloe took the pizza rolls back into the kitchen. She was surprised when Chris followed her. He snatched the pizza rolls from her and put them on his arm for a minute, glaring.
“Your brother is fucking vicious, Chloe.”
“You shouldn’t poke the bear, Chris. You know how he is about Sara.”
Nodding, he said, “Yeah. True. So, I suppose you’re not mentioning the Peter thing to them because…”
“Didn’t wanna talk about it. I don’t even know why I told you. Maybe because you’re safe. I dunno.” Chloe shrugged.
Chris stared at her for a moment, and then shook his head.
“I’m going to try not to find that statement really offensive,” he said, reaching into the fridge.
Chris put the six-pack inside, grabbed a Coke, and passed it to her, along with the pizza rolls.
“Thanks for the pizza rolls,” he said.
Grabbing a beer for himself, he twisted off the top then he turned and walked back into the living room without another word.
Chloe blinked a few times, completely unsure about what just happened. He seemed pissed at her. What had she said?
Chloe put the pizza rolls back in the freezer, then grabbed some nachos and headed back to the living room. Deacon had sprawled out on the recliner, and Sara had commandeered the love seat. Moving to the far end of the couch where Chris sat, she set her beer on the coaster, and balanced the nachos on her lap.
As if immediately sensing the presence of food, Smitty, Sara’s cat, scurried out from his hiding place beside the couch and stood there expectantly. He hopped up on the couch, leaned forward to sniff the food on her plate, then gave a displeased yowl and ran into the bedroom.
She was really not having any luck with guys today.
She was feeling incredibly uncomfortable by this point because Chris hadn’t even looked at her since she’d come back in the room. Taking a bite, she said, “Shit. These are really good, Sara.”
Stretching her arm out, she passed her plate to Chris, trying to break the tension.
“Want some?”
He looked at the plate and then slowly raised his eyes to hers. He paused for a moment, considering, and then said, “For me? You shouldn’t have,” as he yanked the plate out of her hand.
“Not all of them, jerk. Just a few!”
Grinning, he said, “You probably shouldn’t have handed me the whole plate then.”
Her voice laced with sarcasm, she said, “No, no. You keep that. I’ll go get more.”
Walking back into the kitchen, Chloe grabbed another plate for herself, adding a quesadilla this time.
Moving back to her spot on the couch, she realized that Chris had turned his body sideways, and was looking a lot less angry with her now, which was a relief.
Still. What the hell had that been about?
The next two hours of football were uneventful. It was a preseason game, though, so it was essentially meaningless. About three quarters of the way through, she looked over at Deacon and he was asleep. Looking back at Sara, she was texting. Chris was playing with his phone.
She took a few impromptu photos then decided it was time to go.
Chloe stood up and said, “Preseason games blow. I think I’m gonna get going.”
Chris looked up at her and said, “You’re right. I think I’m gonna head out too. Deacon is napping like an old man. Sara looks bored to tears. I’ve been playing trivia for an hour. My battery is running low. I vote that we adjourn Sunday Football meetings until regular season.”
Deacon continued to nap, and Sara stood up and said, “Thank god, I can finally turn off this game. I love you guys, but I really want to nap. I’ve been dying over here.”
Laughing, Chloe said, “It was lovely to see you too.”
Walking into the kitchen, she tossed her empty Coke and the paper plates into the trash. Calling out to the living room, she said, “Do you want me to help put away the food?”
Sara called out, “Nah. Just leave it. I’ll put it away in a minute.”
Walking back out to the living room, she lingered for a minute, then grabbed her purse. Giving Sara a hug, she said, “Tell Deacon I said bye whenever he wakes up.”
Chris snorted and said, “You must be wearing him out, Sara.”
Flushing, she grinned and said, “See ya, guys.”
Chloe and Chris headed for the elevator, pressed the down button, and waited in silence.
When the elevator doors slid open, she pressed the button for the ground floor.
“I’m sorry if I offended you earlier in the kitchen. I didn’t mean to,” Chloe said.
Shaking his head, Chris said, “Don’t worry about it, Chlo. It’s fine. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
“See. That’s the thing. I don’t even understand what I said wrong.”
Turning to face her, he put his hands on her shoulders and waited until she made eye contact, then said, “No man ever wants to be seen as safe by a beautiful woman. It bruised my ego for a minute. It’s all good now.”
Chloe continued to peer at him for a moment, somewhat confused, and asked, “Why does it matter what I think? I’m just Deacon’s little sister.”
She felt his hands, still resting on her shoulders, tighten almost imperceptibly.
A strange look passed over his face and then he said, “You haven’t been just Deacon’s little sister to me in a long time, Chloe.”
The doors of the elevator slid open, effectively breaking the moment. Chris removed his hands from her shoulders, and stepped back. Chloe exited the elevator, lingering in the lobby for a minute.
Chris said, “Are you headed home?”
Nodding, she said, “Yeah. It’s still too bright out there. It’s probably over one hundred degrees outside.”
“Me too. There’s some PS3 and beer with my name on it.”
Walking toward the door, they stepped into the scorching heat again, and she said, “Sounds exciting. Ugh. It’s still ridiculously hot!”
Nodding, Chris said, “Where are you parked? Close?”
Pointing down the street to her light blue VW, she said, “Yeah. Right there. Need a ride to your car?”
“Nah,” he said, “I’m right over there,” pointing down the block and across the street.
Reaching up, she gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She felt his arms wrap around her, then squeeze.
“See ya later,” he said, quickly breaking physical contact with her.
“Yeah, see ya later,” she echoed, walking to her car.
Unlocking the door, she started the car, turned up the air, and rolled down the windows to cool the car down. Putting on her seat belt, she pulled on to the street and headed back toward the freeway.
What the hell had that been about? This
definitely called for more investigation.
Chapter 2
Groaning, Chris got into his car, cranked up the air, and rolled the windows down to let the trapped hot air out. What the hell had he just done?
He had basically just told Chloe he was attracted to her. He couldn’t imagine how Deacon would react if she told him. He didn’t think she’d tell him. But honestly, he didn’t know what the hell she would do. She had looked totally stunned by the admission. Like it had never even crossed her mind that he’d see her that way.
Truth be told, he’d been seeing her that way since she was about twenty, and way too fucking young for him. He was ten years older, but she was in her midtwenties now. The age gap mattered a little bit less. Still. Deacon would probably destroy him. He’d all but raised her. He was Dad, Mom, and brother all wrapped into one.
When he saw her next, he was going to pretend nothing happened. He’d been looking at her and pretending for longer than he could remember anyway. Plus she’d just broken up with that tool, Peter. She was probably feeling vulnerable. Yeah. He regretted the entire exchange.
She was one of the most inquisitive people he knew. If she decided she wanted details, she’d end up badgering him until he either went crazy or gave in. He really should have kept his mouth shut.
He stewed a bit more as he drove home, then decided it was time to soak in his whirlpool tub. His knee had been throbbing all day. Admittedly, that probably didn’t help his disposition either.
Limping in through the front door, Chris slipped his shoes off, dropping his keys, wallet, and cell phone onto the table by the door.
He wasn’t at all displeased with the direction that his life had taken, but part of him still wished he hadn’t torn up his knee junior year. He’d been a tight end in college, and a Heisman candidate. He could still remember that moment so clearly, the excruciating pain of the helmet crashing into his knee cap at full speed. Lying on the field, unable to move, wracked with pain, he’d known his knee was shot. He’d known his football career was over before it even began.