Imperfect (Sins and Secrets Series of Duets Book 1)

by Willow Winters

  I eye her for a moment and then brush it off.

  I know Jules comes from money, born into this lifestyle like me, so I’m surprised to see the admiration on her face when we arrive. “Your home is beautiful.” Her voice is even and sincere. I’m proud of my home. I built it myself. Liam helped design it for the engineering purposes, but it was all based on my ideas and plans.

  I pull up in the driveway and Jules grips her clutch a bit tighter as her phone starts vibrating.

  She doesn’t pay attention as I roll up to the front of the house. She’s too busy reading a text and by the look on her face and the way she shoves the phone back into her clutch, it’s not good.

  “Everything alright?” I ask more to make sure I’m getting her ass into my bed than anything else.

  For a split second, only a moment, I think it’s someone who knows what happened. Someone who saw what I did, although I don’t think anyone could have possibly seen. My muscles coil and my knuckles turn white as I grip the shifter, putting the car into park and searching her face for answers.

  She blows a bit of hair out of her face and looks anywhere but at me.

  “It’s fine,” she answers me, but I know she’s lying. And I don’t fucking like it. Apparently, I’m a hypocrite as well as a prick.

  “Tell me what’s wrong.” The command comes out easily as I grip her chin in my hand and force her to look at me.

  Her eyes go wide and I almost second-guess it. Almost. But then she caves to me.

  “My friends just found out.”

  I cock a brow at her, rubbing the rough pad of my thumb over her bottom lip. “Found out?” I ask her. She parts them slightly and judging by the way she leans into me; my touch is all she needs to loosen up.

  “I don’t do this… often or… ever-” I lean in and press my lips to hers, stopping her explanation. I move my hand to her cheek and then behind her head as she deepens the kiss. Her hot mouth opens and her tongue massages mine in swift, strong strokes.

  I groan into her open mouth, our breath mingling as my dick hardens to fucking stone.

  “Forget about them,” I tell her as I break the kiss and pull away from her. She’s left breathless, her eyes still closed as I open my door and start to get out, taking the keys with me.

  I almost close the door and miss her whispering, “I’ll forget about it all.”

  But I heard her. I heard the whisper, the raw vulnerability and truth in her statement.

  I wish I hadn’t.

  Chapter 8

  Julia

  Just one touch. Just one time.

  Just one kiss. Just one crime.

  Take me far. Take the pain.

  Take it all. Break the chain.

  Leave me here. When you’re done.

  I’ll survive. But you’ll have won.

  I’ve never had a one-night stand before.

  Not once.

  It’s not like I’ve ever had a thing against them and Lord knows my friends enjoy them, with or without discretion. I’ve just never… it’s never happened. My body heats everywhere, one place a bit more than others.

  My thoughts race as Mason wraps his hand around my waist and leads me to the front door. The chill in the night air is sobering. I can’t explain how anxiety is shooting through me. My breathing comes in a little faster now that the alcohol's all but worn off.

  All I can think about is how even the pace of our footsteps are and how I’ve never done this before.

  I’m doing it. I’m going to sleep with a stranger. I’m going to sleep with someone other than Jace.

  Jace and I met as children, paired up in boarding school. I’ve never been with anyone else. I’m so sheltered, I always have been. I nearly have a panic attack at the thought and my shoe slips on the paved steps, nearly making me fall, but I catch myself.

  Mason’s quick to grab onto my elbow and waist; his hands are hot on my body. It’s like a shock, as something violent inside of me reacts to his very touch. I instinctively pull away, only just then releasing a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

  Eight months alone… even longer since I’ve been touched. Moving on has never been such a dominating thought, or so terrifying.

  I wrap my arms around my chest, fueled by both fear and desire. My pulse quickens as I look back over my shoulder and towards his car. Towards an escape.

  Mason straightens his shoulders, squaring them and hitting the keys against his leg once. The jingle catches my attention. It’s the only sound in the cold, dark night.

  I stand frozen as I look into his eyes. I’m a fool for doing this. It’s not me. Not the woman I am today and not the woman I was before I lost my husband. Mason’s steel grey gaze searches my own and I feel lost all over again.

  A wave of denial is running through me. He doesn’t want me. Why would he? What was I thinking?

  I part my lips ready to give an excuse, a lie, or even the truth. Anything to just go back in time and avoid this disaster.

  To run just like I’ve been doing for the past eight months. Didn’t I say I needed a change? I said I needed something drastic, but that was back when the alcohol was strong and we were surrounded by a crowd of people.

  Mason is tempting, gorgeous, and confident. But I can’t handle a man like him. I can’t deal with a situation like this.

  Weak and alone. A low whisper from the self-loathing bitch inside of me resonates in my ears. I slam my lips shut tight without uttering a word, hating that she’s right.

  I won’t leave. I suck in a breath and force myself to be determined. Right or wrong, I don’t give a fuck.

  A moment passes with the two of us just standing still in front of his porch. Only three, four-foot wide steps are between us and his deep navy front door. I just have to get there.

  My eyes flicker from the door to Mason. My palms are growing sweaty and my blood heats as he takes a single step closer to me. It’s only one step, but with it is something powerful. His height, his scent, and his very dominance overwhelms me when he’s this close. He radiates desire and my mind may be having second thoughts, but my body is pulled to him, magnetized by his presence.

  It’s calming. Shockingly so, as I let my body move forward, closing the small space between us. He trails a finger down my collarbone, lightly, testing my reaction.

  “I want to touch you Jules,” he says softly, forcing my gaze back to his all-consuming stare. I hadn’t imagined it’d be this intense. Not in the bar and not in his Mercedes. He didn’t push, and he didn’t do anything to make me feel trapped. How odd, now that we’re out in the open with no locked doors and no enclosed in spaces, it’s only now that I feel cornered. All because of the way he looks at me.

  What’s worse, what’s maddening and suffocating, is that I love it. I fucking want this. The way he looks at me is addicting; it’s freeing in more ways than one.

  I can’t chicken out. I won’t.

  I nod my head once, as his fingers trail up to my throat and his hand wraps around my neck, his light touch feeling much rougher than he’s being with me. I tilt my head, as his grip moves to my chin. He just barely brushes his lips against mine. It’s a soft kiss that leaves me wanting more. I keep my eyes closed, I stay as still as can be as he hovers them so close and whispers, “I want to kiss you.”

  “Kiss me,” I whimper, a pathetic plea, or maybe one of strength. My head feels so clouded, it’s hard to know what’s driving me. Raw, primal instinct or desperation. Perhaps a lethal cocktail of both.

  He pulls away just slightly, but I don’t let him get far. I take a half step closer to him, my breast brushing against his shirt and I crush my lips into his. I need him. I need this.

  He’s quick to wrap his arms around me and pull my body up against his own. The faint noises of the night surround us and they seem to get louder as my breathing gets heavier. His lips travel down my throat and I throw my head back. It doesn’t escape me that we’re out in the open, but I find it too difficult to care. I may have be
en tipsy from the alcohol before, but in this moment, I’m drunk with lust.

  “I want to fuck you, Jules.” Mason practically growls. He pulls me into him suddenly and forces a gasp from me as he nips my earlobe. “I want to make you cum so hard you forget everything.” I moan as his lips trail down my neck.

  My nipples harden and my back arches as my pussy heats. “The only thing you need to remember is my name,” he whispers into my ear, his hands roaming further down my ass and waist until his bare skin touches mine. “Just my name and what I’ve done to you tonight.”

  I title my head back and everything he’s saying is exactly what I need to hear. “Yes,” I whisper into the soft breeze that cools my exposed hot skin.

  “Only tonight,” he whispers so low, I nearly miss it. My fingers slip under his shirt, so I can feel his bare skin too and it triggers him to pull away from me. Just slightly, only so he can look into my eyes, but I grip him harder. I’m afraid to lose what he’s offering me.

  I want him. I want his promise.

  I want to forget and feel alive again.

  “Yes,” I whisper and then press my lips to his, moving a hand to the back of his head, my fingers spearing through his thick hair as his tongue strokes mine and he lifts me up into his arms by my ass.

  I gasp from the sudden movement and wrap my legs around his waist. I can’t say no now. I can’t and won’t. He takes the opportunity to leave open-mouthed kisses down my neck and torture my deprived body.

  Every doubt leaves me. All I need is to be held by this man. Fucked by him, and ruined by him.

  I come alive for him, every nerve ending on fire, ready to burst into a flame so hot I can’t control myself. My fingers dig into his shoulders, my nails scratching along his shirt and wishing it were skin.

  The pleasure is so intense already. It’s nearly too much. I want to pull away because the inevitable drop from this high is going to shatter me. I’m all too aware of it, but I can’t help myself.

  He never stops kissing me as he balances me in one strong arm and unlocks the door. He never sets me down until he has me on his bed.

  And he never gives me the chance to think about anything but the desire threatening to destroy me.

  I bounce slightly on the bed and it throws me off balance, but I don’t have time to recover. He practically rips at my dress, desperate to have me bared to him. I reach behind me, unclasping my bra as he pulls the lace down my body. His fingers loop around my thong and takes it along with the black dress.

  My heels fall to the floor, each thudding and mixing with the sound of my heart racing. I’m given a moment, only a quick moment as he pulls his shirt over his head. But instead of thinking about what I’m doing, instead of falling for the self-doubt and fears, I’m mesmerized by the rippling of his muscles and then by the girth and rigidity of his cock as he shoves his pants off.

  It happened so fast. Like a whirlwind of chaos, that only surrounded the two of us. The mattress groans with his weight as I prop myself up on my elbows. He slides between my legs, not asking me to spread my thighs for him. My body behaves naturally, opening up for him as if he was meant to be there. As if my movements were controlled by his desires.

  My heart beats so hard, it feels like it’s trying to get away from me. His hard, hot body pushes down against mine and I can’t breathe. But I don’t want to.

  My head turns to one side and then the other, feeling the cool sheet beneath my cheek as the head of his dick brushes against my slick folds.

  “You’re so wet for me,” he says and Mason’s voice is a mixture of wonder and reverence. I try to move my head again, but he captures my lips with his and suddenly pushes his cock deep inside of me, all the way to the hilt in one swift stroke.

  I scream out, my neck arching and my back bowing as he stills and gives me a moment to adjust to his size. My heart squeezes in my chest, but then, he moves.

  Not just moves. He fucks me with a punishing force. The bed slams against the wall with each thrust. He kisses me as though he’s breathing the air from my lungs. He pins me down and takes everything from me, forcing me higher and higher, all while giving me everything I never knew I needed.

  It’s not until I’m left panting and recovering from waves of pleasure that I start to question what I’ve done. But it’s so late and I’m so exhausted. I forget it all, except what he’s done to me and give in to sleep.

  Chapter 9

  Mason

  The fire roars. The flames, they grow.

  The light it calls, but this you know.

  You shouldn’t touch it, you shouldn’t play.

  The flames are tempting, but you will pay.

  It’s meant to burn, soot black, smoke white.

  You escape with a kiss, mesmerized by the light.

  You think you’re done, the fire’s gone out.

  But it’s not done with you, it will never be without.

  Last night was stupid. Such a juvenile word, but I can't think of anything better. Fucking stupid.

  I'll blame it on the alcohol. A low groan travels up my throat as I move away from the floor-to-ceiling window in my office. The hustle and bustle of the streets below is what drives me to keep moving. This city never sleeps, and the work never ends.

  Last night was about taking a moment to unwind from the shitshow my life has become. From my father, the arrogant prick and criminal that he is. The lines separating right and wrong have blurred, and the awareness of just how ruthless my father is has never hurt me more.

  That's what it really is. Pain. Coming to the realization that your father's a disgusting excuse for a human being and should be locked away behind bars is... difficult to handle. What's worse is when you're tied into his bullshit.

  I sink into the leather desk chair. Unlike my father's office, traditional and smelling of polished wood and old books, my office is the opposite. It's airy and open with the model of our newest development in the very center.

  That's what started all this shit. A celebration for my company's first suburban development. No more apartments downtown. We're ready to take over and start creeping into uncharted territories. I'm a fucking idiot for thinking this would change things between my father and me. I really thought things would be different. I'd attributed the tense relationship with him to my own doing. I was a rebellious child with pent-up anger over my mother's death. Born into this black tie bullshit with no choice or say.

  I was always supposed to act right. Always supposed to say the right thing, stand the right way, behave and pay attention. Well, I didn't fucking want to. I crack my neck, remembering the fights I started. A smile kicks my lips up. Four boarding schools and hefty donations from my father still couldn't keep me in line.

  Working in construction was just another "fuck you” to my father.

  Higher education? Fuck that. I wanted a physical job... but it didn't last for long. I'm just not made to work for someone else. So I started Grays Homes with Liam nearly three years ago. He had the schooling, and I had the designs. I didn't think it'd be this successful, or grow so quickly. So much so that I ran out of cash flow, and so did he. We did what we had to in order to keep growing and taking advantage of the momentum we had. I took out loan after loan, investing in myself and I'd do it all over again.

  But I wish I hadn't agreed when my father came to me and offered to invest in me, too.

  Just having him backing me made everything easier and run smoother. I knew it was too good to be true.

  He just wanted to hold it over my head. He wanted to own me. I narrow my eyes at the model in the center of the room. It's all because of this. Now I'm in debt, I owe more than I'm worth and everything's hanging in the balance. This one project is the key. I should cancel it all now that I know the truth, but that would mean bankruptcy and more people than just myself being affected. Liam and all of our employees and contractors would lose everything.

  I pull my eyes back to the computer screen, back to all the bills that have been
paid. Everything's moving accordingly, but only because of the income from my father's loan.

  I fucking need him. If I turned him in...

  I run my hand over my face, knowing I'm just as much of a fucking prick. I don't deserve to breathe the same air as someone as sweet as Jules.

  The thought of her shy smile and innocent looks... God, it does something to me. The guilt and anger are minimal compared to my desire. I want to feel her again. I want to get lost in her touch, fascinated by the fact that I do the same to her.

  I can make it all better.

  She has no idea how fucked up it is. My father would, but not nearly to the same extent.

  He may be a piece of shit and deserve to live behind bars, but if the world knew what I'd done, they would think the same of me.

  I click the mouse to light up the screen as it goes dim once again. I can't think; I can't focus.

  As my temples throb and irritation grows, I think back to last night. Back to Jules.

  Out of every possible way for this morning to start, I never guessed she’d sneak out.

  I imagined how we’d leave things over and over again while I watched her sleep, her long hair a beautiful halo on the pillow. She looked so peaceful and beautiful.

  I’ll never forgive myself. I couldn’t get over how fucked up it was. How selfish of me. But it turned out to be everything I wanted, and more. It was fucking worth it.

  As she slept, exhausted and spent from the raw fuck, my fingers longed to travel along her curves. My dick was still hard for more.

  Staring at her lush lips, the visions of her eyes shut tight, her head thrown back, and her mouth parted with soft, strangled moans spilling between them were etched in my memory. It was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Jules was a woman utterly in rapture from what I was doing to her. She was completely at my mercy, and I know she loved every minute.