His Betrayal Her Lies
Title Page
Prologue
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
His Betrayal Her Lies
by
Angel de’Amor
ISBN: 978-1-77145-099-7
SMASHWORDS EDITION
Published by:
Books We Love Ltd.
Chestermere, Alberta
Canada
http://bookswelove.net
Copyright 2013 by Angel De`Amor
Cover Art Copyright 2013 by www.barronsteward.com
Prologue
Taylor Gallagher knew better, knew that she shouldn’t go through with this but that twitch between her legs reminded her of all the amazingly erotic times she had shared with him.
An hour earlier, Taylor stood daydreaming, looking out the bay window in her kitchen, glad to be home from a long business trip. “This tastes so good,” she said aloud as she sipped her wine.
Drink in hand, she grabbed her purse and headed for the bedroom. The contents of her overloaded Michael Kors leather handbag rattled around as she tossed it onto the nightstand next to her bed. The three-inch heels she had toddled around in all day had worn out their welcome. She stepped out of them and began undressing, a trail of clothes marking her path from the bedroom to her master bath.
A hot bath was just what she needed. That and a few more sips of wine. After turning the water on full force in a Jacuzzi tub big enough to hold six people, she peeked back into the bedroom to see where she left her glass.
“There you are.” She retrieved the drink and placed it on the bathroom sink, then delicately submerged herself in the hot bubble bath. Laying her head against the pillow rest, she felt some of the day’s tension begin to melt away.
Just as she closed her eyes and relaxed, her Blackberry sounded off from the bedroom. At this time of night, it could only be one person. Her first instinct was to ignore it. But her curious side told her to get up and read the text message.
Against her better judgment, Taylor got out of the tub and wrapped a bath towel around her slender body. She swiftly tiptoed across the floor and into the bedroom, trying not to let too much water puddle around her feet. She reached for her purse but thought better of it and dried her hands before rummaging through the side pocket of the bag.
Retrieving the phone she pushed the view button. “Hey beautiful, I miss you and want to see you tonight.”
If heart rates were measured in miles per hour instead of beats per minute, hers was going way past the speed limit. She knew she should’ve pressed delete. But knowing and doing were two different things.
Shiny nails clicking against the keys sounded like Morse code as her thumbs tapped out “I miss you too, babe, and I want to see you.” She pressed the send button and waited for a reply. Within seconds, her phone sounded again. “Can you come tonight, babe?”
Taylor pushed aside her purse so she could see the nightstand clock. “Midnight,” she muttered. She had no business hooking up with him at all, let alone at this time of night. But flashbacks of all the things he could do to her body and the way he made her feel seemed to be calling the shots. “I’ll see you in forty minutes,” she typed back.
“Okay, babe. See you soon and please hurry.”
Why in the world am I doing this yet again? After her last session, she told herself that was it. But in the past year, her body seemed to yearn for him constantly. She couldn’t go through a single day without thinking about his “red light special,” as he called it. Every time she closed her eyes, he appeared naked and sweaty. All she wanted—all day, everyday—was him inside of her.
Taylor tossed her Blackberry onto the bed, looked into her closet, and debated about what to wear. She always made sure she looked desirable … delicious … delectable when she visited him. No particular outfit seemed to jump out at her. But there was no question about what fragrance to wear: scented rose peach lotion from Victoria’s Secret.
She moved to her dresser, opened the bottle, and rubbed the lotion all over her body, paying special attention to his two favorite places to nibble—her neck and legs. The butterscotch skin, brown eyes, and petite body that were reflected in the mirror as she massaged her legs made her feel extra sexy. She stood and did a little sensual dance as she opened her underwear drawer, selected a striking red lace thong, and slipped it up her legs.
Some teeny devil must have been sitting on her shoulder urging her on. “Yeah, this thong is all the clothes you’re going to need.” She pulled her four-inch red pumps out the closet and slid them on her feet. “Sorry, babies,” she told her aching feet, “but I gotta look good tonight.”
She snatched her wallet out of her purse off the nightstand and her Blackberry off the bed as she walked to the living room closet. Wrapping up in the long, black, fox fur coat would protect her from the chilly November weather.
She punched in the code to activate her house alarm and stepped out the door. The brisk, windy Chicago air reminded her that she was virtually naked. She hurried to her silver BMW X5, popped the alarm, got in, and turned the ignition.
Guilt began to creep in. Or was it the voice of reason? Whatever it was, it made her want to go back into the house. She dropped her head into her hands, shaking it back and forth in disbelief and disappointment. Her inner voice got on her case. Damn it! What are you doing, Taylor? You can’t continue to do this to yourself. All good things do come to an end. But regardless of how the thoughts resonated, she couldn’t resist the tug at her heart.
She pulled out of the horseshoe driveway and headed West on I 94; it was almost as though the BMW had a mind of its own. Her conscience bothered her again. Turn this car around right now. You said the last time was the last time. If he finds out your secret, you will lose him forever.
Taylor tuned out the nagging thoughts and pressed harder on the accelerator. A few minutes later, she pulled up to the loft and into his designated visitor parking space.
“Damn, I forgot to put on makeup,” she said as she flipped the visor down and checked her face. Her hair was still semi-wet from her steamy bath. Fluffing up her reddish brown soft curls would have to suffice. She took a quick look inside her fur coat, still unable to believe that she left the house wearing nothing but a thong and heels. Lord, that man knew how to bring out the untamed part of her! She pulled her coat closer. “This time will be the last time, I promise.”
The clock on the dashboard read 12:45 a.m. She got out before she lost her nerve, stilettos clacking against the concrete as she walked across the parking area and up the stairs. When the elevator arrived, she pulled out her key to the loft.
What new adventure will he take me on this time? Her pussy was becoming so wet that if she didn’t stop thinking like this, she would have to toss her panties before making it upstairs. The numbers on the screen above her head lit up as the elevator ascended to the eighth floor.
She stepped off and turned left down the long, narrow hallway. In front of Suite 822, she lifted her arm for one delicate knock.
Kalon slid open the steel door, looking sexy as ever. He had on no shirt, proudly displaying his six-pack. His jeans rode low on his hips and he was barefoot. “Hey, babe, come on in.” He reached out, grabbed her hand, pulled her softly into the dim room, and kissed her on the
neck.
The flood gates between Taylor’s legs instantly released. Damn, there go my sexy panties. He reached for her coat and slowly slid it off of her shoulders. Her lips curled into a devilish grin as she watched his reaction when he saw she was naked except for the sexy, now-damp thong.
“Babe, you did all this for me?”
“Yes.”
Kalon ran his tongue across his bottom lip.
She turned to give him a view of her backside. “You ready for me? ’Cause I know I’m ready for you.”
He pulled her close and nipped at her earlobe. “I thought maybe we should eat a snack and then go to bed.”
Taylor stepped back, placed her hands on her hips, and poked out her bottom lip. She only had a few hours. She intended to make the most of them. Her hand touched the sensitive area on his chest, and he took in a sharp breath. “Let’s skip the snack and go to bed.” Hand sliding down to his navel, she added in a pouty tone, “Now.”
“Dang. Why the rush, babe? We’ve got time. And besides, what I want to do to you can’t be hurried.”
“Well …” Her voice trailed off. “I have to go to church with my family tomorrow.” That was true—kind of. Too nervous to look into his eyes, she stared down at his toes peering out from the frayed hems of his jeans. She had never been a good liar.
Kalon raised his left eyebrow and looked at her sideways. She hoped he didn’t see through her lie. Giving her a sexy grin, he picked her up and said, “Okay, babe, let’s go to bed.” Her legs straddled his hips as he walked to the bedroom. He nestled his face in her hair as he whispered into her ear, “I’m going to make you feel beautiful tonight.”
He positioned her on his silky red sheets and unzipped his jeans, never taking his eyes off her body. He bent slightly at the waist and tugged the skin-tight denim down his hips, unleashing his manhood. With a strong grip, he stroked it once.
Taylor’s breathing sped up.
He slowly came toward her. “Red sheets, red thong,” he softly groaned, “and red stilettos.” He got on the bed, his body hovering over hers. “Red is supposed to mean stop. But ain’t gonna be no stopping tonight. You hear me?”
Melting into the sheets as he lowered his body onto hers, Taylor responded to his every move. “Don’t ever let this end,” she pleaded and clutched him to her. His muscular body ground even harder against her.
She shuddered to think what Kalon would do if he knew her secret: he was sleeping with a married woman.
One year earlier…
Chapter 1
“Taylor,” Tammy Briggs pleaded, “please come out of that dressing room.” Taylor peeked her head out the door. The lacy handkerchief her mother was using to fan herself was no match for the hot flash that had no doubt attacked her.
“Taylor, baby, please. You have tried on almost every dress in here—a couple of them twice! You look beautiful in all of them but I need you to choose one.”
The white, floor-length wedding dress that Taylor wore filled the frame of the fitting room door. A bridal consultant appeared beside Taylor and held her hand to help her step up onto the podium centered in the middle of the floor.
The pretty brown eyes of the bride-to-be flitted back and forth between images in the five wall mirrors that surrounded her but she still wasn’t sold. “What do you think?” she asked her sister, Toni Briggs, and two best friends, Pamela Jones and Libby Townsend.
It must have been the fifteenth time that day that women surrounded her to admire a dress. Taylor could see that they were way past weary but were trying hard to show enthusiasm and support. She thought to herself, “Gotta love ’em.”
“This is definitely the one.” Toni waved her hands like Vanna White, drawing attention to various aspects of the dress, as Pam played the role of fashion commentator.
“Look how this one shows off your petite shape and sexy neckline.” Pam pointed out. “And girl, I know you’re not going to tell me those long shapely legs of yours don’t look good with that high cut in the front of this gown.”
Taylor just turned from side to side. “They all look pretty much the s—”
Libby cut her off and stepped on the platform with her. “How can you say that, Taylor?” She tilted Taylor’s head toward the mirror that showed how she looked from the back. “The train on the back is ten feet long, just like you wanted it. I agree with Toni and Pam on this one.”
Taylor turned toward her mother. “What do you think?”
“I love it, baby. Listen to your sister and friends. We can’t afford to spend more time trying to find a wedding dress. Money is not an object but you’ve got to make a decision. There are still so many more things on our list we need to focus on for the wedding.”
Taylor twirled a little bit more in the mirrors, trying to see if this was the best dress for her. She knew her mother was going to make sure this wedding was the social highlight of the year. “I suppose this could be the one.”
“Great.” Tammy let out a sigh of relief and signaled for the bridal consultant. “Will you please wrap this dress up to go?”
The bridal consultant was more than happy to close the deal. “That’s a wonderful choice; I’ll ring it up for you right away.” Smiling from ear to ear, she ran off in the direction of the cash register. Taylor and her entourage had to giggle when the lady made a sharp U-turn and headed back in their direction to help Taylor get out of the dress.
“I guess we’re all kind of tired, huh?” Taylor said to her with a wink.
* * *
When they left the bridal shop, her mother had dragged them all to a tasting for the reception food. Her sister and friends had to go their separate ways after that but she invited them to meet her back at her place later to hang out. Meanwhile, she and her mother finished their rounds, meeting with the florist and decorator in back-to-back consultations.
The day had been exciting and productive, but brutal. Taylor just wanted to unwind and savor a glass of wine. Before turning the key to enter her condo, she grabbed the mail. “Front door open,” the alarm system tattled. “Oh, be quiet,” Taylor retorted, closing the door and tossing the mail onto the kitchen counter.
The zipper on Taylor’s thigh-length dress got snagged as she hurriedly started undressing. After several tries, zipping it up a smidgeon then easing it back down, the zipper came free. Taylor stepped out of the garment and walked to her bedroom closet, dress in hand. She changed into a comfy silk jumpsuit, picked up the picture of her fiancé, Ari, from the dresser, and she blew him a kiss. “Yes, Mr. Man, You do look enticing—even in a photo.” She really missed him but he would only be at pilot school for a few more days.
The wide legs of her jumpsuit floated around her ankles as she strolled back into the kitchen. A few dirty dishes were stacked in the sink. She thought about ignoring them but talked herself into getting it over with. “Go on and bust those suds, girl.”
Dishes done, she glanced at the day’s mail scattered across the counter. Picking it up, she began to sift through it. Bill. Junk. Junk. Jury duty notice.
The final envelope caught her eye. It was plain and had no return address, just her name, Taylor Briggs, across the front in calligraphy. A butter knife from the nearby drawer would have to be her letter opener. She grasped it and ran it across the top off the envelope.
What was written on the notebook paper neatly folded inside left her feeling dizzy and hot, as if her blood pressure was soaring. She grabbed the kitchen counter, trying to steady herself. Then everything went black.
* * *
“Tay, wake up.” Taylor could hear her best friends frantically screaming her name in the distance. No, wait, they were right beside her. She could feel them rubbing her arms and gingerly slapping her cheek. Her head was throbbing but she managed to focus, only because Pam kept begging, “Tay, Tay, please look at me. What’s wrong, Tay? Look at me.”
Libby’s tear-stained face was the first thing Taylor’s gaze settled on. “What happened, Tay? Did you faint?
Are you sick? Are you pregnant?” Libby fired off one question after the next.
Raising her head off the floor and stumbling to her feet, Taylor gladly accepted the help when both girls held her arms for support.
Pam, clearly aggravated, gave her the third degree. “Tay, what are you keeping from us? Tell us what happened. We found you on the floor after Libby and I had been trying to call you for longer than an hour. We figured you were probably just running late from the appointments so we decided to use our key to let ourselves in and wait for you here.”
Moving slowly so as not to make the pain any worse, Taylor tried to remember why she was on the floor. Libby helped her prop herself up on the kitchen bar stool, then felt her head for signs of a fever. Taylor began to lower her head onto the counter, then jerked it back up. “Where is it?”
Confused, Libby and Pam looked at each other. “Where is what?”
“The letter, Libby,” Taylor yelled, then spun around and shouted, “Where’s that letter, Pam?” She jumped from the stool, causing her head to swim. Looking frantically around the kitchen, Taylor spotted the letter on the floor near the counter. Transfixed, she hoped against hope that there was no truth to any of the horrible memories that started to come back.
Pam followed Taylor’s line of sight. “This letter?” she asked. Taylor nodded. Pam bent down, picked the sheet of paper and the envelope up off the floor, and handed them to her. Taylor slowly and silently re-read the page full of hurtful words.
Hello Taylor,
You don’t know me but we have something in common. We both want the same man. The difference between you and me is I already have him. Ari and I have a two-year-old daughter named Adrianne. She needs her father at home with her.
His Betrayal Her Lies Page 1
