Imperfect (Sins and Secrets Series of Duets Book 1)

by Willow Winters

  “What?” I ask him, my heart beating loudly in my chest. I don’t know if I should deny whatever question he has about Jules. Everything in me is screaming to deny it all. I can never let anyone know.

  “So… Julia Summers?” the prick has the balls to ask me.

  I let out a deep breath and nod my head once. I can’t help that I feel a sense of pride as his cocky smile widens. He twists the wedding band around his finger and nods his head.

  “Well now, I guess I can forgive you for being such an irritable fuck lately.”

  “Watch it,” I say under my breath but the smile on my face only leads him on.

  “Good for you,” he says and looks back at the screen, but it’s only a spreadsheet of boxes and numbers. “So is it serious?” he asks, and I don’t know why. He’s never asked me before about who I’m fucking or dating, for that matter.

  He answers the unasked question. “You just seem very preoccupied recently.”

  I move my seat closer to the desk, stretching my back and then shrugging, doing my best to appear casual. “Just a lot on my mind,” I say.

  He waits for a moment, expecting more, but I return to the spreadsheet. “I’ll have it done before I leave,” I tell him, giving him a tight smile and ending the conversation.

  He leaves quietly, merely waving a goodbye and letting the door shut with a loud click, filling the empty room on his way out.

  I look up when it’s closed and tap the pen against the desk. I don’t know what to deny, what to keep secret. I can’t confuse the two, but the lines are already blurred.

  Chapter 16

  Julia

  This is not a date.

  This is not serious.

  This isn’t something that needs to be more.

  This is for fun.

  This is pretend…

  My pen stops on the last line. I stare at the words I've scribbled into the notepad, but my mind is blank. I don’t know what I intended for this poem to be. Inspirational maybe?

  But instead it all just looks like lies to me.

  I click the end of my pen over and over. Click. Click. Click. Click. I'm debating on ripping this sheet out of the notebook and leaving it here.

  The clink of several ceramic mugs being placed on top of one another behind me makes me turn to look over my shoulder. I inhale the rich smell of coffee in the small shop. The floors are checkered and the walls plain white, but this place serves the best coffee downtown. It’s also right across from Mason’s office, and I told him I’d meet him here. My eyes drift up, my thumb still on the end of my pen.

  The Rising Falls Building is sleek and modern. It looks like a polished black obelisk all the way up, with a thick steel frame that’s a matte black separating the glass panels. It’s tall and dominating, ruling over the small buildings across from it.

  It’s everything Mason is.

  I shouldn’t be here, jotting down lies in a notepad and waiting for him. I pick up my coffee and take a sip. It’s not hot anymore, but it’s not room temperature either. The Styrofoam container feels just right in my hand as I take in a deep breath.

  I keep telling myself I shouldn’t be with him. I don’t do casual, and this definitely doesn’t seem casual but so far it’s been several days of casual hooking up. But since when does waiting for your date mean it’s casual?

  Maybe I’m looking into things too much. It’s only been a week and a half. It’s just sex… or so I keep telling myself. Maybe I should add that to the list of lies in my notepad. I snort at the snide thought.

  We aren’t seeing each other in public, mostly. Not for events, anyway. It’s not like anyone will notice or think anything of this. Even if they did, who cares?

  There are whispers that I’m dating, but nothing that seems malicious or judgmental. Which is better than I’d hoped.

  My heart beats hard in my chest at the thought, and the small air of confidence leaves me. I would care if they said I was a bitch for moving on too soon. Or that I’m no longer the good girl. That Jace’s death was in some ways my death, too. They wouldn’t be wrong about that one.

  I don’t want Jace’s father seeing that I’ve moved on. Or my mother. I close my eyes and try to rid myself of the image of her seeing a snapshot of the other night in a paper with her morning tea. Drunk at a bar with a strange man holding me. I groan, rubbing my temples. Yeah, I don’t need my mother seeing that.

  The bells hanging above the front door jingle, and my eyes instinctively open.

  There he is, Mason, taking the breath in my lungs as he strides toward me. I’m stuck as I sit there, pinned to my seat watching the air of confidence he gives off. His steel grey eyes look darker than ever as he grabs the back of the chair across from me and pulls it out. The legs scrape on the floor, protesting him sitting with me, but he claims it and fixes those eyes on me.

  “Jules,” he says and my name falls from his gorgeous lips in a rough baritone and I finally breathe.

  “Mason,” I say his name and then smile, I don’t know why. I just can’t help it. He makes me feel… like a little girl caught in a fantasy. It’s the way he wears his suit, the way he walks into buildings, the way he looks at me. As if he owns them all.

  A small smile plays on his lips as well. I did that. I made him smile.

  He gestures toward my cup and asks, “Should I get one as well?”

  I sit up straighter and look over my shoulder again at the counter with the one lonely register and stacks and stacks of mugs behind it. It’s late, but this coffee shop never closes, because this city never sleeps.

  “If you’d like to,” I answer and then turn to face him. He reaches across the table, and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. His eyes and hands linger on the exposed part of my neck. The tips of his fingers trail down my neck slowly, with purpose. I feel the heat race through me, the desire creeping slowly from where our skin touches down my chest, and lower… and lower. He confuses me when I’m near him. I can’t think of anything but what I want him to do to me, and that’s a dangerous thing.

  I want to close my eyes, but I can’t. I’m mesmerized by the way he looks at me. The steel grey gaze seems softer, and the harsh lines of his jaw seem less intimidating, more vulnerable.

  “I think if I do,” he finally answers, leaning back to retake his seat, “I’d like to get it to go.”

  I nod my head vigorously and then feel foolish as he lets out a rough laugh. The bells jingle in the doorway just as he leans across the table for a kiss.

  Anxiety shoots through me, and I pull back as soon as his scorching hot lips touch mine. My back hits the hard plastic of the chair and my eyes whip over to an old man in a tweed suit. His white hair looks ruffled from the wind, but he doesn’t care. His light blue eyes gaze through his thick rimmed glasses over the counter and up at the menu behind me.

  I look back at Mason, feeling slightly relieved that it wasn’t anyone who would recognize us, but that doesn’t last long. My heart drops when I see the look on his face.

  I don’t like to disappoint, but this is also something else. I feel guilty for pretending this is something it’s not. But I have no fucking clue what this is, and I’m petrified to find out.

  “I don’t know...” I clear my throat trying to catch my breath, and give him the honest truth without being offensive. “I don’t-”

  “If you’re with me,” he says and the tone Mason gives me is authoritative. His eyes pierce into me, pinning me to my seat and stealing my excuses from the tip of my tongue. “Then you’re with me.” He finishes his thought and I can’t look away, I can’t breathe, I can’t do anything but hold his gaze.

  He finally breaks the hold he has on me, rising from his seat and buttoning his suit jacket. He doesn’t look at me as he walks past me and up to the counter. I stare at the door, wondering if I should just leave. My body feels hot and I don’t think I can do this. I still don’t even know what this is.

  It’s definitely not “just sex.”

  M
y body stands on its own. Although my legs feel wobbly, my body weak and my head clouded with frustration and confusion, something inside me pushes me forward. It’s only four steps, four strides toward him, and all the while my heart beats faster and my body heats.

  “I don’t know what this is,” I start to say. My voice comes out strong, clear and full of a confidence I don’t possess. “And that doesn’t matter.” I take in a breath as he cocks a brow at me and turns to face me fully. He gives me his full attention and waits for me.

  A shaky breath comes and goes as I try to come up with the right words. “I don’t know what I want.” The words are so true. “I am not with anyone. I’m alone, and that’s-” I cut myself off before I almost say that's how I want it. I almost lie to both him and myself.

  I turn to my right as the barista looks away casually, as if she wasn’t listening. My cheeks flame with embarrassment.

  “If you want me to leave you alone, it’s done.”

  I shake my head, my heart racing with fear. I resist the urge to reach out to him, feeling so fucking weak. “I want you,” I whisper, my eyes pleading with his. “I just don’t,” I swallow and force my eyes to meet his. “I don’t want people to know.”

  Fuck, I feel like an asshole. “I’m not ashamed of you… I’m just ashamed of me…” Oh God, even I cringe at my words. It’s the truth, but it’s so shitty of me. I swallow thickly, searching Mason’s face for understanding or anger. But instead there’s a coldness that greets me, and it fucking hurts. “I don’t mean it to come out in a way that's offensive.”

  “It’s because of your husband?” he finally asks me and I don’t waste a second to answer, “Yes.” The word is barely a breath.

  “I want to take you home,” he says and licks his lips and instinctively my eyes are drawn toward them. He lets his eyes roam down my body. “We can talk about this in bed.”

  My lips part, and I struggle not to look back at the barista who’s no doubt watching us.

  “Do you want that, Jules?” Mason asks me.

  I do. I want him to touch me and hold me and make me feel alive.

  Why is this so hard? It’s my emotions, that’s why. The poetry of life. Drawing me in and then snapping me out of it.

  “Jules?” he asks, pushing me and I cave to what I really want. Because if I deny it, if I deny him, I may lose it forever.

  I nod once, and he places his hand on the small of my back, leading me away from the counter and toward my jacket and coffee I’ve left on the table.

  As I put the jacket on, trying to just calm the fuck down and stop making such a big deal out of nothing, Mason leans forward and whispers in the crook of my neck. “I don’t know what I want, other than I want you... in my bed… every night.” My pussy clenches and heats as his words register. A small wave of relief and arousal flood through my system. He lifts the jacket over my shoulders, helping me to put it in place and then looks me in the eyes.

  “Is that something you want?” he asks.

  That’s what I want, but this seems like more.

  I don’t know how to separate the two. A relationship versus just someone to fuck.

  It’s going to be a problem for me, I already know it is, but telling Mason that in this moment is something I can’t do. If I do, I’ve lost him.

  Silence hovers between us for a moment, feeling hot and as if it slows the ticks of the clock in the room, time stalling and my mind whirling with how this is all going to end.

  He’s going to crush me. He’ll leave me shattered when he’s done.

  He’s not the first though, and there’s not much of me that can break any more than I already have.

  I put a small smile on my face and nod, feeling as though I’m being granted a death wish. “Yes,” I tell him, holding his grey eyes, “I want that, too.”

  He doesn’t know the truth, and I’m too much of a coward to tell him.

  I’ve sealed my own fate in this moment. I know I have.

  If only I hadn’t said it. If only I could walk away.

  Chapter 17

  Mason

  What’s right and what’s wrong are overrated,

  The lines are blurred; consequences negated.

  I’m left without truth, only the lies that I’ve built.

  I’m left all alone, consumed by the guilt.

  She’s nervous and anxious, quiet too. My car is the last one on this level in the garage. We walk in unison, my hand still on the small of her back. I’m not letting go until I have her in my car. She’s on the verge of running, and I won’t fucking allow it.

  She needs to know that she belongs to me. She wants to hide this, and that’s just fucking fine with me. But only so that she knows not to be ashamed. I won’t be denied. Fuck that.

  I’ll give her everything she desires, because I want to. I want to see her smile, to hear that laugh that drew me to her. I’ll do everything I can to make it up to her.

  And she’ll give me all of her in return.

  I start to open the passenger side door to my car, but then I stop, shutting it before she has a chance to slip in.

  My dick is hard; my blood is hot. I take a glance at Jules and her wide eyes stare back at me. They're the same eyes I’ve been looking at all day. But there’s no hint of a smile, only concern, and a hint of rejection mixed into the soft blues of her eyes.

  There’s a large cement post to the right of my car, right where the entrance is. It’s square in shape and maybe three feet wide. If someone drove up, it would block us for the moment. Only a moment, but the odds of someone coming here this late at night are slim and fixing this shit right now is worth taking the risk.

  I take off my jacket and lead her to the front of the car, where we’ll be hidden from view. Although her steps are hesitant, she takes my lead, looking over her shoulder and no doubt wondering what the hell is going on.

  “Mason?” I can hear the hesitation in her voice as her ass bumps against the car.

  I grab her hips in my hands and shove her back, pinning her down and crashing my lips against hers. Her hands fly to my chest pushing me away at first, caught off guard by the sudden change of plans, and then travel up my neck ever so slowly. She gives into me, moving her hands to the back of my head, pulling me in for more.

  That’s a good girl. My good girl. The woman who needs me, and I fucking need to make it up to her.

  I break the heated kiss, her panting chest touching mine over and over again as I look down at her. “Be good for me and be quiet.”

  She nods her head, her breath still coming in fast through her parted lips. I crush mine to hers again and she moans into my mouth but before she can deepen it, I fist her hair in my hands and pull her away, grabbing her hips and flipping her over so her breasts are pressed against the metal.

  “Stick your ass out for me,” I tell her in a rough voice as I palm my dick through my pants and take a peek around the pillar. There’s no one in sight, and I fucking need her tight pussy cumming on my dick.

  She whimpers as I pull her head back by her hair and kiss her neck. She rocks her hips, and her hot pussy brushes against my dick, teasing me.

  I’m quick to unzip my pants and pull my thick cock out, stroking it and finally letting her go. She lets out a gasp, bracing herself and looking over her slender shoulder at me with those gorgeous blue eyes full of lust… and trust.

  I pull her panties to the side and kiss her neck once more before shoving myself deep inside her tight cunt. This has to be quick, no time for playing.

  Her back arches and her fingers scrape along the hood, but she doesn’t scream out. Nothing but a small gasp escapes her mouth. Her pussy spams and feels like fucking heaven as I hold in a groan and put my hand on the small of her back, pressing her down and keeping her in place.

  Her eyes are closed tight, and her teeth are sunk into her bottom lip. I rock out slightly and push back in, forcing the sweetest sound from those beautiful lips. A moan of pleasure.

  I grip he
r chin in my hand and force her to look at me; I want her to watch me. I want her eyes on mine as I take her just how she needs. Right where I fucking want her.

  Her eyes slowly open as she lets out a breath, and that’s when I slam into her again. She bucks forward, a small cry uttering from her lips and I wait again for her to look back at me.

  “You need to watch me, sweetheart,” I tell her with an even voice even though my heart’s pounding in my chest.

  I’ll show her who she belongs to and how fucking good I’ll be to her. But she has to watch me, she needs to see it all and know this is exactly what she wanted. That she wanted me.

  She rests her cheek against the car and keeps her eyes on me and I thrust into her again and again, pulling all the way out and slamming all the way back into sweet pussy.

  The sound of tires above us makes her squirm beneath me, but they can’t come down this way. I know because I park here every fucking day. I lean closer to her, pushing my chest against her back and kissing her gently on the lips. “They won’t see.” My hand slips between us and lifts the front of her dress up, teasing along her clit through the thin layer of fabric. I play with her, teasing and rubbing while watching her writhe under me. “Look at me,” I command her and she’s quick to turn her eyes to me. They seemed tortured with pleasure and the need to cry out her releases. She’s fucking gorgeous and I could make this easy for her, I really could. I could fuck her quickly and take her over the edge so she doesn’t have to fight the urge for long. I could let her close her eyes and look away.

  But I’m not interested in that.

  Jules is going to see. I won’t let her think this is all pretend and something that it’s not.

  I’m going to give her everything she needs. I’m going to make it alright again, and she’s going to love me for it. If that makes me a prick, I don’t give a fuck.