Blurb for Filthy Little Lies
He’s The Man of My Dreams
I met a man and I can’t tell anyone who he is. I shouldn’t tell you the things that we do. The things he does to me. The things I do to him. I shouldn’t tell you that he’s the love of my life. The sex is hot, the romance is real, the love is explosive, and the lies are going to shatter everything in both of our lives.
He Doesn’t Know I Have a Secret
You see he doesn’t really know who I am. And come to find out that I don’t really know who he is either. We both have secrets. We both have hidden desires. And we’re both about to go on the rollercoaster ride of our lives.
Life isn’t easy. Love isn’t easy. Fairy tales are books we read to children. Romance novels are books that make teenagers dream of love and happily ever afters. The world is full of filthy little lies. Men tell them. Women tell them. Relationships are made up of them. I’m here to tell you my story. This is my diary. This is my life. This is my absolute truth. Trust me, you can’t make this shit up.
I’m not going to say my name, just in case this diary is found by someone. You can just call me ‘that girl’ like everyone else in my life. Well, not everyone else, but a lot of people in my town. When I was younger, I was the girl everyone felt sorry for. Now, I’m just the girl everyone whispers about in the streets. Only they don’t even know me. My best friend, Natasha, thinks it’s ironic that so many women judge me and think they’re better than I am. If they only knew the real me, they wouldn’t be smirking quite so much.
First off, you should know that I don’t care about many people. I would die for my best friend, Natasha, my other best friend, Tom, and my dog, Lulu the Great (even though she’s not that great when she’s pissing on my thousand dollar rug). You might be surprised to hear that I have a boyfriend. A very handsome and very rich boyfriend. He pays for my apartment. A luxury apartment in the city. It costs him about $6,000 a month in rent. I know that because I get a kickback of $2,000 a month from the landlord. Don’t ask me why or how. You and I, well we don’t know each other well enough for me to be divulging all my secrets.
I suppose you want to know my boyfriend’s name? I can give you his first name, but if I give you his last name as well, you may figure out who he is. And I can’t have that.
Aiden is his name. Yes, like Aiden from Sex and the City, a show I loved. I always thought Carrie should have chosen Aiden as opposed to Mr. Big, but what do I know? I’m not really an expert in love. Aiden is thirty-three, and he has short, dark-brown hair and green eyes. I think he’s Irish-Italian, with his name coming from his Irish roots and his naturally tan skin coming from his Italian side. He calls it olive skin; I say tan. Olives are green and black. He’s neither of those.
I told you before that he’s hot, right? He looks like Tom Cruise’s taller and handsomer brother. The other plus is that he’s good in bed. And when I say good, I mean flip-me-over-and-do-me-again good. I never have to say no to him. I should say I never want to say no to him. It would be a perfect relationship—if things were different.
Natasha thinks that Aiden is a jerk, and Tom thinks that he’s not good enough for me. They’re both right, of course, but I don’t care. I get what I want from him. Even if it’s not a love connection. I don’t really believe in true love. I mean, how can one man and one woman fall in love and spend the rest of their lives together? I’ve never seen it work. Not once. I don’t know any happily married couples.
Natasha thinks I’m jaded. I know, I know. I talk about Natasha a lot. She’s important to me. She’s what I call a true friend. She’s one of those friends who makes you feel like you’ve won something in life. She’s the real deal: genuine, compassionate, non-judgmental, and always there for me.
Most people would assume that she is some loser to put up with me. But Natasha is most probably the best person you could ever meet. She’s beautiful, as in Hollywood beautiful, with long, blond hair, blue-green eyes, a tiny waist, and a sweet smile. She’s also brilliantly smart. She has a college degree from an Ivy League university and works as a pharmacist at a local drugstore. She’s also married to her college boyfriend, Brad. I don’t like him very much, so I’m not going to dwell on him.
Natasha and I are both twenty-five. We’ve been friends since preschool and she’s never dropped or judged me. Not even when she went to her fancy school and I went somewhere else. We talk every day and she knows everything about me. Well, almost everything.
Tom is my other best friend. He’s that guy every girl should have in their lives. He can fix things and be a listening ear when I need one. He gives me the male perspective whenever I need one. Oh, and he used to be my lover. Well, not just used to. We’re still friends with benefits. But that’s between us.
That’s one of the things Natasha doesn’t know. It’s not like it’s every week or even every month. Just sometimes when I need someone to hold me. I call him and he comes over. And his coming over usually leads to sex. Hot, passionate, no-holds-barred sex.
Don’t judge me. I know it looks bad that I have my friend come over and fuck me in the apartment my boyfriend pays for. I never said I was a good girl. I don’t think you could go through the things I have in life and be a good girl.
Tom’s handsome as well, with his black hair and hazel eyes. He’s not very successful, though. He’s a writer. And I guess writing doesn’t pay that well. But he loves it and I suppose that’s all that matters. To him, anyways. I could never be with a guy who couldn’t afford me the finer things in life. What can I say? I’ve done poor. I don’t want to do it again.
And then there’s me. I already told you that I won’t tell you my name. But you can know what I look like. I’m above average height, about five eight to be exact. I’m slender, with long, black hair, big, brown eyes, and voluptuous boobs that may or may not be natural. I’m what men call an exotic beauty. I don’t know why, exactly. I’m not from anywhere special. I grew up in the Midwest. But I suppose what a handsome man wants to call you is his business. If they have money and are good in bed, I don’t care.
I suppose you think I’m a slut? I’m not, but I’ve heard that before. Usually from jealous women. But what can I say? I love sex. Is there any other activity that can make your body shudder with the most exquisite pleasure known to mankind for free? I think not. Sex is like free chocolate every day of your life that doesn’t make you fat. In fact, it makes you skinnier. How cool is that?
Wow, I’ve been really talkative today. Usually I like to keep to myself, but today I’m feeling like putting it all out there. Sometimes I think my life is a Lifetime movie. I mean, that’s how it feels. Like my first lover—let me tell you more about him.
The first time I had sex, I was eighteen years old and a senior in high school. His name was Andrew. I wasn’t always a good student in high school and my grades reflected that even though I never failed a class. However, I nearly failed chemistry. I just didn’t understand or care. How was I supposed to remember the periodic table? Hydrogen, helium, lithium—say what? Neutrons, electrons, atoms. I mean, really? When the teacher started saying that the air was made up of tiny atoms, he lost me. I couldn’t see shit, and if I can’t see it, I don’t believe it.
So, one afternoon, the teacher told me to wait after school. He said, “You’re going to fail this class and you’re going to have to repeat it.” Which meant I wouldn’t graduate on time. I thought my world was about to end.
This is the point where I’m guessing you think I’m going to say that Andrew was a cute boy in my class and he offered to tutor me and I ended up getting an A. If this was a cutesy piece of fiction, that’s most probably how this story would go. However, this is my life, and as you should know by now, my life isn’t cutesy. I did end up getting an A in the class and I did graduate on time, but that was because Andrew was my teacher and I gave him an offer he couldn’t refuse.
“Mr. Matthews, can I speak to you after class?” I asked him, batting my eyelashes.
“Sure.” He glanced at me with a stern expression.
“Thank you.” I smiled back with my most seductive expression and spread my legs slowly.
Andrew’s eyes widened as he realized I didn’t have any panties on under my skirt.
“No problem.” His face looked flushed as he looked away.
I grinned to myself as I saw him peeking at me every couple of minutes. He stumbled and bumbled through class, and he was positively squirming when the bell rang.
“How can I help you, Ms. X?” he asked me once everyone had left the room.
“I’m having trouble understanding the assignments, Mr. Matthews.” I walked to his desk, swinging my hips slowly and pushing my breasts out. I heard him gasp as he realized that he could see my nipples through my white top. I’d pulled my bra off and put it in my bag as the other students exited the room.
“How can I help you understand?”
“I don’t know if I’m ever going to get it!” I pouted and walked over to stand next to him. “I just feel like I’m never going to be good at chemistry.” I brushed my chest against his arms, and he jumped back.
“Maybe you can get a tutor?” He looked at me warily.
“Would you be my tutor?” I gazed up at him with wide eyes. “Please?”
“I don’t know.” He gazed down at me and swallowed hard.
“Please, Mr. Matthews.” I grabbed his hand then and brought it up to my right breast. His eyes widened as he realized what I was doing. “I think we’d both benefit from you being my tutor.”
He stood there for a second and mumbled something before pulling his hand away.
“There are many things I want you to teach me, Andrew.” I breathed softly and tried again.
This time, I grabbed his hand and lifted my skirt up. I placed his hand in between my legs and rubbed his fingers gently across my wetness. He breathed in sharply and his eyes widened.
“What are you doing?” he asked me sharply, but he didn’t move his fingers away.
“I just want to pass the class, Mr. Matthews.” I licked my lips slowly and closed my legs together.
“I don’t know what you expect me to do.” He stared back at me with confusion in his face. I knew that he had mixed emotions about what was going on.
“I think you do.” I leaned up and kissed him. “I think you do.”
“Shit.” He groaned, and I felt one of his fingers entering me.
I grinned against his mouth then. That was when I knew I had won. I was going to graduate and I didn’t have to worry about my stupid chemistry class anymore.
I suppose you think that what I did was cheap and wrong. But you’re the one who’s wrong. Andrew was a great first lover, and it was exhilarating finding new ways to have sex in school. If you only knew half of the things we did. We even had sex during class one day. I’m sure you’re trying to figure out how that happened. Maybe one day I’ll tell you.
However, this diary isn’t about Andrew and our crazy sexual adventure. This diary is about me and my crazy life. It’s about all the things I did that I can’t deny. It’s not pretty, but it’s all true. Aside from one thing. I lied about Aiden’s age. He’s not thirty-three. He’s a bit older than that. But that didn’t matter to me.
Not until that one day. Because that one day, I met a guy who seemed to see right through my soul. His name was Dominic. And Dominic was to be the undoing of me. You see, he was to become the first man I fell in love with. Only, falling in love doesn’t always mean rainbows and butterflies. This is the true story of my life and how love changed everything!
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