LOVE AND HATE (A Billionaire Romance)

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LOVE AND HATE (A Billionaire Romance) Page 6

by Mia Carson


  “It’s not right.”

  “It’s not right for him to move money around in shady ways. I can’t get a handle on exactly what he’s doing, though. If you can get some bank account numbers, I’ll have it all figured out, and the merger won’t go through.”

  Moore and Golden hired us to uncover tax fraud. They wanted to absorb Percival Hall’s investment firm into their own. The merger with Creed Enterprises would mean it could never happen.

  “Does he talk about Serena?” Susie asked.

  “He hasn’t, no.”

  “I bet she’s got some crazy financial stuff going on. Did you see someone hacked her phone?” Susie made air quotes with her fingers. “Another batch of nude photos were leaked. Video this time. Her and two dudes.”

  “We all make mistakes.”

  “She’s sharing them herself to get attention.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Your sister-in-law is crazy.”

  My phone buzzed in my bag, and I dug it out. When I saw a text from Scott, I broke into a grin.

  “Girl, don’t get caught up with him. Do you need me to show you the ranks of Scott Creed ex-lovers? He’s interested now, but he’s not going to stay interested. First time someone younger and blonder walks by, you’re toast. Remember in 2013, how he was married to that pop singer for like a month? Big wedding, even bigger divorce.”

  Crap, I’d forgotten about that. On the one hand, WTF? On the other, Lucas and I never even made it to a wedding.

  His text read, Drinks in a bit? I felt much better than I had the day before and was ready to get back out on the strip and party.

  Sure, I texted back. Where?

  Tao nightclub at Palazzo?

  Okay. Nine?

  See you then.

  I racked my brain for clubbing clothes. I could put something together.

  “Where are you meeting him?” Susie peered over my shoulder.

  “Tao,” I said.

  “Wear my silver dress.”

  “Uh, no.”

  “You certainly don’t have anything else that will fit in there. Do the silver one.”

  “That’s, like, not even real clothing.”

  “Exactly.”

  It was Vegas, right? And what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, like this marriage. I let Susie dress me to go out, curling waves in my long brown hair and wearing the silver dress. The halter mini-dress barely covered anything. Front and back rucking gave it a draped look, and the neckline almost showed off my belly button. My back was entirely exposed, and the dress barely covered my butt.

  Susie frowned at me. “I wear it better. I’ve always had really good luck getting laid in that dress. Godspeed, and I wish you the best.”

  “Thanks.” I wondered how one washed the metallic-looking fabric and decided it was best not to think about it. Susie’s feet were about the same size as mine, and she handed me a ridiculous pair of strappy silver stiletto sandals.

  “To dance in?”

  “It hurts to look good.”

  “Literally, apparently.”

  Susie walked with me to the Palazzo, where she broke off to meet her kindergarten teacher again. I stood outside the club and gaped at the long line outside. A bouncer carefully checked IDs. Where was Scott? Should I just get in line? Ugh, I hated this shit.

  The lack of the unknown was kind of what I liked so much about being with Lucas. After so long, we were always together, and there was no ambiguity of any kind about where exactly to meet. Thinking of him brought up the image of Monica riding him, and a lump formed in my throat. No, I didn’t want to be sad thinking about him, certainly not standing in the lobby at the Palazzo, dressed like a streetwalker. I will say that Susie was dead on; I fit in with all the other women in line at the club.

  I tried to will away thoughts of Lucas and what could have been between us. Clearly, the answer to that was nothing, as he didn’t care enough about me to be faithful.

  “Come on, this way.”

  Scott appeared behind me and sort of power-walked past me, beckoning me to follow. Well, okay then. Hello and good evening to you, too. Scott wore a dark grey, three-quarter sleeve blazer over a V-necked, striped t-shirt. He wore jeans so dark blue they were almost black and black leather shoes. His hair was slicked back almost into a pompadour. He and Susie would get along famously.

  I struggled to keep up with him in the crazy shoes. I tottered along, hoping none of the paparazzi saw him and snapped photos of us together. We bypassed the bouncer and went in through a different entrance, where we were greeted. “Welcome, Mr. Creed. Miss.”

  I nodded politely to the bouncer. They didn’t check our IDs. Scott led me into a glass elevator lined with bright green neon up to what I can only describe as a sky box. It looked out over the sea of revelers and featured a huge leather sofa and fully stocked bar. The location of the box and the angle of the sound system muted the music a bit.

  “Drink?”

  “Hey, are you all right? You seem a little off.” I thought about the two of us, wrapped in sheets, eating breakfast in bed and laughing.

  He quirked an eyebrow at me and frowned. “Do you want a drink?”

  “Yes. Jack and Coke, please.”

  Scott busied himself making it, pouring himself three fingers of whiskey around an ice cube. “Sit.”

  I sat, relieved to be off my feet. He seemed pissed at me.

  “You look amazing,” he said.

  “Thanks. What’s up?”

  “You’re not wearing your ring,” he noted.

  I opened my mouth to tell him he wasn’t wearing his either, but a glance confirmed he was. I didn’t really have an answer. Mr. Fuller wanted me to keep this going back to New York. A whole lot of money depended on it. Maybe the difference between being able to get a place to live or sleeping in Susie’s spare room.

  “I guess we should talk about it, huh?”

  “Talk about what?” Scott asked. He leaned against the railing, the club lights and music at his back. I couldn’t see his face.

  “Um, the fact we got married two days ago.”

  He nodded. “Why’d you get married?”

  I laughed, uncomfortable. I could feel my cheeks and the tops of my breasts, which were clearly visible in this dress, reddening. I sipped my drink. “I was really drunk. You must be trying to get me drunk again, because this drink is strong!” I hoped he’d laugh. He didn’t.

  “I think I like being married,” he said. “Let’s try it out.” His tone didn’t match the words. His drink rested on a low table nearby, and he stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Uh, yeah,” I said. “I like you a lot. I mean, I don’t know if it’s married-like or forever-like, but I mean, I feel like we’re off to a good start.”

  He stared at me for a beat, probing with eyes so brown they looked black in the low light. “It would be a pity if one of us were lying. Withholding something from the other person.”

  A frigid ice pick of realization jammed down my spine. He knew. I didn’t know how, but he knew.

  “Who do you work for, Kenz?”

  I didn’t want him calling me that, not in that tone. I tried to deflect. I felt so naked and vulnerable in the dress. “What’s wrong? We had such a nice morning.”

  “You work for the Brunvand Accounting Company.”

  “Yes, I’m a clerk.”

  “Is that all?”

  “And other work as deemed necessary.” I might as well have been reciting the line from the company handbook.

  “Like prostitution?”

  My mouth fell open. I’d heard the expression about jaws dropping, of course, but I don’t ever recall being so flummoxed that it would just… drop. Until today.

  “You sought me out at the bar and spilled your drink on me. Now we’re married. What’s your angle, Mackenzie?” He paused. “I know it’s your real name because I looked it up.”

  “You looked me up?”

  “You’re my wife. Of cour
se I searched on Google, LinkedIn, Facebook. Lots of sad pictures of you and the ex. You should probably take those down.”

  Jesus, I hadn’t even thought of those. I hadn’t even updated my Facebook status. All those pent-up Lucas emotions swirled around in my head.

  “So, let’s just call it off. No harm, no foul.” I very much wanted to get out of this box, get out of the club, get out of this whole goddamned city. What had I been thinking?

  “No,” Scott said. It was absolutely not the answer I was expecting. “I think we should stay married.”

  “Why would we do that? We don’t know each other. We come from totally different worlds. We end it now, it can be a funny story, haha, married in Vegas, bunch of sex—” I was rambling, and Scott cut me off.

  “Moore and Golden hired your company to try and prove I’d done something wrong so my merger wouldn’t go through. Hilariously, in order for my merger to go through, Mr. Hall wants me to clean up my act. Wants me married. And look!” He held up his ring finger. “I am.”

  “We’re not really married,” I argued. The blood pounded in my ears, and I pounded the Jack and Coke to bolster my confidence.

  “We both have documentation in the State of Nevada saying we are. I have a deal for you.”

  I wasn’t in a position to make deals. When I spoke with Mr. Fallon, all we talked about was intel gathering. I shook my head.

  “Here’s my offer. The merger should close in three to six weeks. In that time, we stay married. You move in to my New York apartment—don’t worry, it’s huge, and I won’t cramp your style. You come with me to several key functions. You can even keep doing whatever it is Brunvand wants you to do. I promise you won’t find any dirt on me. Once the merger is sealed, I will personally pay your hundred thousand dollars of student loan debt, and the sixty thousand on your credit card. I’ll even throw in a nice new car.”

  My mouth went dry. “That’s blackmail.”

  “Oh no, this is a bribe. Very different animals.”

  “No way.”

  “What’s the difference? You already agreed to be a whore for Brunvand. I’m not offering anything different. I’m just offering a much sweeter pot.”

  I stood up. I wasn’t going to take this. “You can’t call me a whore.”

  “Call girl? Hooker?”

  Red hot anger splashed over me. I could feel the color in my cheeks, bright red. My hands shook, so I balled them into fists. Carefully in the shoes, I took a few steps towards him, making sure I didn’t wobble. This close I could smell him—sweat and Old Spice. “You have no right talking to me like that.”

  He laughed. His breath smelled like mint and whiskey. I liked the shape his lips made, even though the laugh was cruel.

  “If you can’t take it, babe, don’t dish it out. I didn’t spill a drink on you.”

  “Yeah, well, business is business. As you should know. I’ll never be your trophy wife.”

  “Mackenzie.” Scott closed the gap between us, his chest touching mine. The sensation of the lamé fabric against my nipples was electric. “You already are.”

  Scott

  “You’re just a rich son of a bitch who thinks he can have whatever he wants.” She raised her voice at me.

  “Prove me wrong. You’re just a money-grubbing sex fiend.”

  “You’re shit in bed.”

  I laughed in her face. “Baby, you’re not that good of an actress.”

  Even though I was furious with her, I had to have her. God, that dress. Her hair. Her smell. I could no longer stand Mackenzie Taylor, but that didn’t mean she didn’t ignite my passion. Those flushed cheeks, the sparkle in her eyes. I grabbed the back of her head, my hand entwining in the flowing brown locks, tilted her head, and kissed her. She kissed back. Our teeth clacked together and caught the corner of my lip, and we tasted blood together.

  I threw her onto the couch, where she landed with her legs spread, one foot in the air, a strappy silver shoe sparkling in the dance lights. The barely there skirt rode up, showcasing tiny black panties. Her left breast had come free of her dress, and I noticed she didn’t try to cover it.

  Where to start with her?

  Her nipple was a perfect quarter against milk-white flesh, the peak teased tight by arousal or anger, or maybe just the air conditioning. I had to taste it. I lowered myself onto her, not being gentle, giving her my full weight. My mouth attached to her exposed nipple. I wasn’t gentle. Mackenzie didn’t like gentle anyway. She raked her fingernails down my back as I nipped and sucked as hard as I could. She thrust her hips against my crotch, and I reached for the tiny black panties.

  As always with Mackenzie, by the time my hand reached her panties, they were drenched. I couldn’t get my dick out of my pants fast enough. I tried to pull the panties to the side, but they got in my way, so I flicked my wrist and ripped them off. She cried out as the straps dug into her hips, then snapped. I muffled her voice with a kiss. Our tongues fought as I pushed into her wetness, mounting her on the leather sofa while techno music blasted around us. She howled with pleasure as I took her, holding nothing back. I freed her left breast and took each perfect globe in one hand. She liked when I pinched and twisted her nipples, which made her thrash under me like a little, wild animal.

  A string of filth came out of her mouth. She told me ‘harder,’ called me names, and screamed my name. At the rate I was going, I couldn’t last long, not with her delectable pussy lips wrapped so tightly around me. I’d never been inside such a tight little box. So sad it was connected to a duplicitous bitch. The thought made me ram her harder. She clasped my bicep so hard I thought she would pop my muscle.

  Her voice gave out from screaming, and she was reduced to a series of raspy gasps as she met my thrusts. She started to come—I could feel the trembling of the walls of her canal. It pushed me over the edge, and I came so hard the edges of my vision blurred. Her magnetic vagina drew out all of my anger and energy and left me feeling kind of sad.

  I pulled out and stood up, careful not to wobble. I pulled up my pants and stared down at the mess I’d left of her.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow morning from the private air strip south of town. I know you’re headed out tomorrow, too. Cancel your flight and come with me on my plane. Bring Susie.”

  She glared at me, her amazing chest rising and falling as she struggled to breathe. She licked her dry lips and made a little croaking sound, but I didn’t particularly care what she had to say at the moment. I walked out of the box.

  Mackenzie

  Susie and I stood on the tarmac in the baking desert sun the next morning, our bags beside us. At first I was convinced he was standing us up, as some kind of stupid joke or mean-spirited prank.

  Why was I even here? Because Mr. Fallon thought this was the greatest thing ever and promised me a raise. If I did what he wanted, I’d get a raise. If I did what Scott wanted, which was the exact same thing, I’d be debt-free in a month. It didn’t seem possible.

  Scott arrived in a rented black limo, glistening in the sun. He walked up to me like nothing had happened and gave me a warm hug and a kiss. He scoped out my outfit, nothing special, and said, “You look beautiful today.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You must be Susie. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Scott swept her up in a hug as well. She made a thumbs up gesture at me over his shoulder. I smiled sickly and stared down at the pavement. Last night I told Susie I’d gotten food poisoning and wasn’t feeling well. She’d spent the night in the kindergarten teacher’s room, and I’d stayed in by myself.

  “Come on up, ladies,” Scott said, leading us up the air stairs. I caught my breath when I got inside. I’d only ever flown commercial before, usually coach. This was amazing.

  “What kind of plane is this?” Susie asked.

  “Bombardier Global Express.” Scott explained to us all sorts of interesting facts about it, but I was intrigued by the beige and woodgrain interior. The first section had four cushy recliner chairs, while the
back had a twin sized bed and another set of recliners. The posh luxury of the plane almost made up for the sick feeling I got in my stomach whenever I looked at Scott.

  “Here, why don’t you lie down back here and try and get some rest.” Scott led me to the bed and lay me down. “Can I get you anything?”

  “A divorce?”

  He waved his hand, showing me the lap of luxury I was in. The bed was shockingly comfortable, and I sank onto it amid a pile of decorative pillows. “You don’t really mean that. Now let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. I’ll be up front chatting with Susie.”

  He pulled a curtain closed behind him, giving me some privacy. I stared at the jet’s ceiling. It felt so strange not to have to wear a seatbelt as the little plane took off. My ears popped as it ascended.

  I’d had, without a doubt, the best sex of my life the night before. The way Scott had thrown me down and ravaged me… Thinking about it made me a little light-headed. But everything he’d said, the way he’d looked at me. I’d spent the night curled up on the bed in my hotel room crying. A month ago, I’d had it all. Now I had nothing. I was being manipulated by several people, and I didn’t know how to wrap my brain around any of it.

  In the cabin of the plane, Susie laughed at something Scott had said. She had no idea he knew and was sitting up there, thinking he was a lovely man. I’d come so close to telling her the truth, but I’d stopped. I was embarrassed. And I didn’t want her to tell Mr. Fallon.

  I remembered the cute house Lucas and I shared. In my imagination, I walked room to room. Scott expected me to go home with him to his penthouse. After hearing I wasn’t feeling well, Susie promised to bring by my suitcase with all my stuff in it—probably just to see the inside of Scott’s apartment.

  ###

  Holy crap, Scott’s apartment. I’d seen the floor plans in my office, so I had a vague idea of what to expect, but the reality was so much more.

  We didn’t speak on the drive from the airport. The doorman was a young Jewish kid, and Scott introduced him to me as Peter. “Peter, I’d like you to meet my wife, Mrs. Mackenzie Creed.”

 

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