Filthy Little Lies Read online

  Filthy Little Lies

  J. S. Cooper

  Contents

  Untitled

  Untitled

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  Part I

  The Offer

  Chapter 1

  The Best Spanking of My Life

  Chapter 2

  The Day Dominic Found Out My Name

  Chapter 3

  The First Time I Sexted

  Chapter 4

  The Awkward Moment I Met the Wife

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  The Night I Seduced Brad

  Chapter 7

  The Master Plan For Jessie’s Undoing

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  The night that changed everything

  Chapter 10

  The Day Brad Made Me A Promise

  Chapter 11

  The Night I will Never Forget

  Chapter 12

  Why I don’t believe in love

  Part II

  The first time I saw her

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  The Moment That Changed Everything

  Chapter 16

  Queen of First Dates

  Chapter 17

  Connect with J. S. Cooper

  Are you ready for

  FILTHY LITTLE LIES?

  This book is crazy. It’s hot. It is a rollercoaster ride of emotions. Get ready!

  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 about the things 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 will 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 I found out I don’t really know who he is. We both have secrets. We both have hidden desires. And we’re both about to go on the roller coaster ride of our lives.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Copyright © 2019 by J. S. Cooper

  This book is a revised and expanded version of The True Diary of That Girl and a previously unpublished book The True Diary of That Guy.

  Created with Vellum

  I

  Prologue

  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.

  1

  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, 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). It might surprise you 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 six thousand dollars a month in rent. I know that because I get a kickback of two thousand 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 Aiden is a jerk, and Tom thinks 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 master’s degree from an Ivy League university and works as an analyst for a big Wall Street firm. 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-six. We’ve been friends since the first day of college and she’s never dropped or judged me. Not even when she went to her fancy school. 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 be. 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, anyway. I could never be with a guy who couldn’t afford to buy 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 b
e 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.

  The Offer

  “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 will ever 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 on 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 would graduate, and I didn’t have to worry about my stupid chemistry class anymore.

  I suppose you think 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!

  1

  If you didn’t already realize it, I like to have fun. Clean fun, dirty fun—I don’t care. I figure I might as well live my life to the fullest. That’s one thing Aiden likes about me. I’m not all over him like some desperate whore. And yeah, I said “likes” and not “loves.” I’m pretty sure Aiden doesn’t love me. Well, aside from every Saturday night when I say yes to whatever he wants to do. And he likes to do a lot.

  Last weekend, he brought over a gag. It was different. I can’t say that it was my favorite. I’m not really a BDSM girl, but I do what he wants. He knows better than to whip me, though I’m always down for a good spanking. Some of my best orgasms have been after he’s spanked me. I actually have a pretty good story about one of the hottest times he spanked me. I’ll tell you if you promise not to judge me. I’ve already told you I’m not a good girl.

  The Best Spanking of My Life

  “Tom, you have to leave.” I tried pushing him through the door. “Now is not a good time.”

  “But I need some of your sweet loving.” He grinned as his fingers found my butt and pushed me toward him.

  “Not tonight.” I shook my head. “Come over tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday. You know that I like to go to Central Park and write on Sundays.”

  “Then come over on Monday.”

  “I don’t want to.” He leaned forward and kissed me.

  Once his lips hit mine again, I couldn’t resist. Tom always tasted like home. I’m not sure why, but once he kissed me, I was putty in his hands.

  “Tom.” I groaned as he lifted my top up. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m undressing you.” He laughed as he quickly peeled my bra off. “So that I can make sweet love to you.”

  “It’s not a good time.” I shook my head but found my fingers reaching for his pants. “Tom.” I groaned again as I felt his hard erection. “You have ten minutes.”

  “Shh.” He picked me up and carried me to the bed before quickly pulling my panties and skirt off.

  “Oh.” I moaned as he bent down and started licking my pussy.

  His tongue traced circles as his
lips sucked on my clit. I could feel my body trembling as his fingers reached up and pinched my nipples.

  “Fuck!” I screamed as his tongue slowly entered me. I could feel my wetness on his face as he slowly teased me.

  Ding dong.

  I froze when the doorbell rang. I looked at the clock and sighed. Aiden was fifteen minutes early.

  “You have to go in the closet!” I jumped up and pushed Tom.

  He gave me a look and frowned. “What the fuck?”

  “I told you, you had to leave.” I pushed him in. “Aiden’s here.”

  “Fuck.” He groaned, and I nodded. Tom knew that Aiden was my boyfriend and the reason I was able to live in this apartment.

  “Just keep quiet.” I quickly grabbed my robe and ran to open the front door.

  “What took you so long?” Aiden walked into the living room and stared at me before slowly smiling as he took in my appearance. “Getting ready for me, were you?”