Tied to His Betrayal

by Stacey Kennedy

  Gabe’s eyes flare. “He hurt her?”

  “Bruised up the left side of her face quite a bit.” I rub a hand over my tired eyes. “But she hides it well with makeup, and I know she was worried being in the tabloids would make finding a job hard.”

  “I told Allie to extend the invitation to come work at Holt,” Micah offers.

  “And I thank you for that. But I’ve hired her, keeping her close for now.” I take another sip of my beer, washing away my irritation with all of the things Taylor is dealing with right now. “But my biggest concern here is that I don’t like how they knew that I’d be with her that night and got the photograph of us.”

  “I agree,” says Ryder, spinning his beer bottle between his fingers. “What’re the chances of that? It’s rare for you to be on the tabloids’ radar lately, why the interest in you now?”

  “Precisely,” I agree with a nod. Ryder would understand because he isn’t in the tabloids much either. Micah and Gabe tend to have the spotlight put on them the most. Micah hates it. Gabe doesn’t, since in his eyes, the attention means better business for his bar. I understood the logic.

  Micah taps his fingers against the table, eyebrows drawn down. “That could be a coincidence. Maybe they knew that Allie was moving in with me that weekend. Perhaps the paps were simply there trying to get a photo of us.”

  “That’s possible,” I agree, watching McKenna turn on the television screens from behind the bar before I address the group again. “But, regardless whether that’s true, they’re still aware of things they shouldn’t be, like Allie moving in with you. Have you even told anyone about that?”

  Micah lowers his beer bottle from his mouth and shakes his head. “Only all of you.”

  “And that’s the concern,” I note.

  Most things in the tabloids are bullshit, but some things aren’t, and that’s when things get scary. With wealth and power come people who will feed you to the sharks to get a piece of what you’ve got.

  When I receive nods from the men around me, I add, “Still, I can’t figure out how they’re getting this information.” No one in my inner circle, including these men around me and Allie, would be behind this. Our loyalty to one another binds us together in ways outsiders would never understand.

  Yes, I can handle a scandal. I simply don’t want the headache of one. And I don’t want to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on a crisis-management firm to clean up my dirty little secrets.

  Gabe watches McKenna move around the bar to fix the volume on one of the televisions before returning his gaze our way. “While it’s easy to think this could all be linked together, it could all also be a big coincidence.”

  “You know I don’t believe in coincidences,” I tell him, because I never did. I also trust my instincts implicitly. “One article, I could believe it was a coincidence, but two times now they knew personal details about Micah and Allie that they shouldn’t have known.” One stated that Micah was interested in a woman who was hands off to him. And the second article stated I wasn’t happy when I found out about their relationship. And now, that they knew Allie would be moving out of her house on that particular night.

  Silence surrounds me as nods follow, and I see Gabe’s mind working now, his eyes narrowing slightly.

  He finally says, “Let’s see if anything else comes out again before we start jumping to conclusions.”

  We all nod in agreement and, right then, McKenna opens the front door to a barrage of customers ready for lunch.

  Micah turns to Ryder and quickly asks, “How are things with Winters’s daughter?”

  He’s speaking about Gary Winters, a Baltimore senator whom Ryder acts as security for. I recall from a past conversation that Gary’s daughter, Hadley Winters, has a membership at Gabe’s club, Afterglow, and she’s behaving recklessly. Not only is she engaging in unsafe S&M, but she’s been indiscreet, playing in public instead of in one of the private rooms.

  Ryder exhales deeply before speaking. “She hasn’t seemed to catch on that we’ve secluded her in private rooms, or at least, she’s not asking any questions.” Which had been a request made by Ryder to Gabe. “She’s becoming my problem, and I’m less than thrilled about that.”

  I can only imagine the trouble he faces now. I glance up, seeing customers moving toward the bar, and I add to Ryder, “If we have nothing else to discuss, do you mind if I have a minute alone?”

  “Not at all.” Ryder downs the remainder of his beer.

  “I’ll be in touch,” I say to Micah and Gabe, receiving nods, and the others exchange goodbyes before Ryder follows me past the patrons moving into the pub and steps outside.

  The afternoon sun is hot when we settle next to my waiting Jaguar with my driver inside. “Listen, I need another favor from you,” I say to Ryder.

  He shoves his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants. “What do you need from me?”

  “Well, it’s not exactly you that I need something from,” I explain, thinking only of protecting Taylor, and knowing if I don’t protect her that her happiness hangs in the balance.

  Ryder begins to smile. “Now I’m curious.”

  “Good,” I reply. “Because I’ll need you to use your best negotiation techniques to get me what I need.”

  Chapter 7

  Taylor

  “Happy new job day!”

  Bright and early on Wednesday morning, I smile at the warm voice filling my new office and glance up from my keyboard toward the doorway, finding Allie entering, a vase full of bright, colorful flowers in her hands. “Thanks,” I say, rising from my seat. I meet her in front of my dark wood desk as she hands me the flowers. “You didn’t have to do that,” I tell her.

  “Of course I did.” She smiles, then takes a seat in the brown leather chair in front of my desk. “A new job is a big deal.”

  I sniff the tulips in the bouquet and then place the vase on the desk next to my Mac monitor. “I didn’t really get a new job,” I explain, returning behind my desk. “I got the job handed to me.”

  “Oh, please,” she fires back, crossing her legs. “I know my brother, and he wouldn’t have given you a job if you didn’t deserve it. He could have put you in the mail room.”

  I laugh. “That’s true, but also highly unlikely.”

  “It is.” She winks, flipping her long hair, which she’s curled today, over her shoulder. “So, no more of that talk. Give yourself the credit you deserve for getting this kick-ass office.” She studies the gray walls and the view of the Financial District behind me before looking at my face again. “All right, so fill the clueless one in here. What exactly is your position now?”

  “Manager of Human Resources.”

  She rolls her eyes. “What? Where’s the adventure? You know, the new job doing a new thing? This is the exact same position you had in San Diego.”

  “Yes, I know, and that only happened because I told Darius he couldn’t give me a higher position. This is what I’m qualified to do, so this is what I want.” I can’t let him swoop in and rescue me, because this vicious cycle of mine needs to end. “But honestly, I’m just really thankful. With the tabloids and everything it would’ve been hard to find a job. He kinda saved the day.”

  Allie nods. “Darius is good at that.”

  I knew she would understand. Darius saved her from foster care. But that’s just the guy he is, always rescuing everyone, but never letting anyone get too close. “Yep, he is,” I agree, spotting a co-worker I don’t know striding by my office.

  “Sadly, though,” Allie adds, snapping my attention back to her, “you gotta get used to the tabloids if you wanna hang around me and Darius. Both my brother and Micah can’t control that; the tabloids come with the package.”

  “True,” I agree. “But I can be smart about it and stay away from any photographers if I can.” The last thing I want is my dirty laundry on the cover of a magazine. “God, I spent all day yesterday getting Mom to believe me that Darius and I aren’t a couple, and
seriously, the last thing I want is anyone finding out about Shawn.”

  “Did your mom finally believe you?”

  I shrug. “I think she just wants to believe it. You know how she is, always such a romantic.”

  Allie nods. “Yeah, well, she doesn’t really know what happened with him and how much he hurt you.”

  “True,” I admit.

  “Speaking of tabloids, though. Have you seen this?” She reaches down into her bag, pulling out a magazine.

  I lean over my desk to see the cover, and I can’t hide my shock at what I find. “When was this taken?”

  “I’m guessing last night,” Allie says, “because the article says Darius and this lady were spotted at a restaurant.”

  The brunette with Darius is gorgeous, and of course that makes me hate her. I know I shouldn’t be jealous, but I can’t help the way my teeth clench at the way the woman is leaning into Darius, while the side of his mouth is arched as he’s kissing her hand. A smile that I’ve only ever seen him give me. Last night he texted me telling me he had obligations and couldn’t meet up.

  Was this woman his obligation?

  “Listen,” says Allie, pulling my attention away from the photo I’m considering burning. “Just be careful with all this. You’ve been through so much and, well, Darius is a different guy now than when you were with him. You know, he owns…he’s into…” She frowns, shaking her head, and finally sighs. “He’s just not the same guy, okay?”

  I’m trying to make sense out of her babbling. “How is he different?”

  I can tell it’s something serious by the way she’s nibbling her lip. That’s what she does when she’s about to lie to me. “Sadly, I can’t tell you. I wish I could, but I can’t, so just take my word for it.”

  A thousand things are rushing through my mind. Really terrible things. “Is it bad?”

  “No, not bad…” She inhales deeply and then sighs heavily. “Just be careful where it comes to Darius. You guys broke up for a reason. Don’t forget that reason.”

  I know she’s saying this because she loves me, and she probably remembers how hurt I was when he ended things. And I’m sure she knows that I moved away because of that pain, which led to a whole world of more pain. “Well, you don’t have to worry. Nothing is going on between us.”

  Allie gives me a that-is-total-bullshit look. “Taylor, I’ve known you since you were eight years old, and I know Darius, and I know you were alone yesterday and very emotional. And I also know that is a recipe for you two to fall back into each other’s arms.”

  “It’s not what you think,” I admit, even if I don’t really want to. The thing is, I can’t hide anything from Allie because it would make our friendship weird. Best friends share things. Important things. Regardless if half-brothers are involved. I need to tell her something, but I also get the feeling that if I tell her we’ve been intimate, she’ll flip her lid.

  “Then what is it?” she presses.

  “He’s helping me sort all my shit out, that’s all.” And giving me orgasms in the process.

  “Okay, good, we had that conversation and now we can move on.” She gives a huge sigh of relief and smiles as she rises to her feet. “Wanna go for dinner tonight?”

  “I’d love to.”

  “Okay, I’ll pick you up at six.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She blows me a kiss before leaving my office and leaving me alone.

  The longer I’m staring down at the magazine, the more my chest is tightening. I don’t like not knowing what Allie knows about Darius, but I also don’t like that Darius is dating someone else when he touched me the other night.

  I sigh, knowing I have to stop this. I refuse to go back into that damn cycle of being with men who don’t treat me as well as they should. I refuse to stay silent anymore and I leave my office, hurrying down the hallway, passing by the oddly empty reception desk until I reach Darius’s secretary, Charlotte. She’s a cute twentysomething girl with great fashion sense and a serious way about her. I’ve seen her three times today and never once saw a smile. “Is Mr. Bennett in?” I ask when I reach her desk.

  Charlotte nods and lifts her phone to her ear. “Taylor Erickson is…yes, okay, sir.” She hangs up the phone. “You can go in.” Then she rises and grabs her purse from the drawer.

  Only then do I realize—by the clock on her phone—that it’s the end of the workday, which I guess explains the missing receptionist and lack of clients.

  I watch as Charlotte leaves for the day before I enter Darius’s large corner office with big windows that start halfway up the wall. Even if the view of the skyscrapers is mind-blowing, nothing can compare to seeing Darius behind his cherrywood desk.

  Power, strength, sexiness…holy shit…he is so damn hot, it’s really not fair to other men.

  I stop in front of the wingback leather chairs. “Wanna explain this?” I can’t hold back the bite in my voice.

  “Explain what?” He lifts his head, squints his eyes at the magazine cover and then looks back at the papers on his desk. “That is the paparazzi leaving you alone.”

  I blink. “Wait. You did this for me?”

  Eyes on the papers before him, the side of his mouth curves. “Alex works for a close friend of mine. She’s agreed to keep this charade going for a month or so, until the heat is off you and the tabloids focus their attention elsewhere.”

  I don’t even know what to say. I came to lay him out for being a player. Yet again, I’m reminded of how utterly kind he is. “You’re kinda wonderful, you know that, right?”

  His eyes lift to mine, and I see the shadows of pain there. He doesn’t believe me. “I do this to protect you, Taylor,” he says, voice hard. “I’m not a hero.”

  I’ll never know if Darius truly can’t see the good he does or if he simply thinks it’s weakness to feel emotions, but I can speak his language. “Well, I disagree with you,” I say to him, turning around and locking the door. “Most people wouldn’t protect me like you do.” I take a step toward him.

  “What are you doing?” he asks, statue-still.

  “I’m going to thank you properly.” I stalk toward him, not caring that it’s the end of the day and even if some people have gone home, some employees still remain. No one would dare knock on Darius’s door if it were shut, and to the point, locked. I know that because I know him, and that would annoy him greatly.

  “Stop right where you are.” His jaw clenches, once, twice, three times. “Do not come any closer.”

  I see the fire burning in his eyes. The heat there, and how this strong guy is hanging on to his very last strands of control. “You’re going to let me do something nice for you,” I tell him adamantly. “Because all you’ve been doing are very nice things for me.”

  “No.” He lurches to his feet.

  His harsh command doesn’t stop me. I need to do this for him. I settle next to him at the desk, and I see the intensity in his expression. “Why are you being so good to me?” I ask him gently.

  “Because I have to,” he replies.

  A simple answer, but I know the meaning runs so much deeper than that. I know he helps me because it’s what he’s always done, always been there for me. I see the confliction on his face, but I know exactly how to erase it. I reach for his belt, taking the leather out of the loop. “I need this, Darius. Let me touch you.”

  “I…” He grits his teeth, eyes blazing red-hot. “…I’m finding it tremendously hard to stop you.”

  “Then don’t.” I have his belt open and the button of his slacks undone when I see his arm move, then notice the blinds of the window behind his desk closing. His eyes are so fiercely on me that I’m feeling the heat burn through me as I lower to my knees, taking down his pants and boxer briefs with me. Then all I see is his erect cock at my eye level, and he’s just as perfect as I remember.

  When I reach for him, sliding my fingers along the veins on the sides of his shaft, he groans, low and deep. I lick my lips, preparing to
take him in my mouth, when he returns to his seat, lifting his shirt up, showing me hints of his tight abs. He spreads his legs wide and I shuffle forward, draping myself over his lap, hair falling onto his bare thighs, hand running up his six-pack, while I take him deep between my lips.

  “Fuck,” he groans, tossing his head back.

  Keeping my eyes on him, I watch as he looks at me again, eyes hooded. I slide my tongue around the rounded tip, remembering how much he likes that. I lick along the sides, up and down, hearing his soft moans, seeing the flex in his jaw. His fingers move to my cheek and his touch tickles along my jawline as I run my tongue down the other side, right down to my hand.

  “That’s perfect,” he murmurs.

  Encouraged by the throaty moan he gives, I squeeze my hand around the base of his thick shaft and then stroke him, watching the smolder build in his eyes. I can tell by the way he’s trembling, by the intensity in his eyes and the hardness of his cock, that my touch is the first he’s had in a while. I don’t intend to make him suffer.

  I glance away from him, shutting my eyes and taking him deep into my mouth, thinking only of his pleasure. I move my wet mouth up and down, dragging my lips over him. My hand follows the path of my lips, and I squeeze tight, hoping he’s imagining it’s my inner walls hugging his cock.

  Another deep and urgent moan sends a hot shiver down my spine as I do what he loves, and I use both hands now, stroking them in opposite directions, faster and faster, sucking with my mouth.

  His legs tense under my arms and his grunts are louder now, closer together, until his semen spills across my tongue. Then I do what I said I would. I finish the job, swallowing every drop, and thanking him properly.