Promiscuous

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Promiscuous Page 13

by Missy Johnson


  I turned around and reached up to kiss him. “I’m not surprised, because you do whatever you want. I don’t think anything would surprise me anymore.”

  He raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he took off his jacket. Again, he was in a suit.

  “What do you do, anyway?”

  “Pardon?”

  “For work. You’re always so nicely dressed.” Every day he was in a suit, and it had just struck me that I had no idea what he did. I suspected something boring, like tax or law.

  He laughed. “There’s something wrong with a guy who always likes to look his best? You never know who’s watching, Beth.”

  “I guess not.” I grimaced, thinking back on the number of times I’d dashed out of the house with no makeup and in my grungiest sweatpants. “But that didn’t answer my question.”

  “I’m a businessman.” I rolled my eyes. Very informative.

  “Okay, but what is it you do?” Every time I broached the subject of his career, he switched the conversation into another direction. It always worked too.

  He sighed, and moved toward me. Now he was making me nervous. What could be that big a deal that he couldn’t tell me?

  “I own a club.”

  “A club? What, like a bar?” I said, confused. That was the big deal?

  He chuckled, and wiped his mouth. “Not exactly. My club is catered toward a specific clientele.” He hesitated, turning to face me. “I own an exclusive erotic establishment.”

  “You mean a strip club?” I replied.

  He laughed. “God no. My club is where people who are looking to fulfill a fantasy can go to meet likeminded individuals.”

  “You sound like a late night TV commercial,” I muttered, stabbing at the sauce. “How long have you had this club?”

  “A few years. Beth, when you’re ready, I’ll tell you everything you want to know. You want to go there? Fine, I’m more than happy to take you.”

  “Fine, dinner is ready anyway,” I announced proudly. Although I don’t know how proud I’ll be once he tastes my cooking.

  “Good, I’m ravenous. What’s on the menu?”

  “We have chicken and avocado pasta, with a side of garlic bread.”

  “Mmm,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. “And for dessert?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  I leaned up and kissed him tenderly. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  I walked back into the kitchen, swinging my hips as I walked, well aware that he was probably checking out my ass.

  “You can pour the wine this time.”

  He laughed, and went to the fridge. “How is your hand?”

  I held it up proudly, the wound completely healed.

  “Very good,” he mumbled, reaching for my hand and kissing it. He set the bottle down and continued kissing along my arm, his dark eyes full of want. I shivered as his lips moved along my collarbone and up my neck. The way his tongue was drawing circles on my skin was making me wet.

  “Dinner is going to burn,” I mumbled, his lips finding mine.

  “So turn it off,” he whispered. His hands moved underneath my dress.

  Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kissed him, passion overtaking my hunger. The only thing I wanted right then was him.

  My arm flailing behind me, I switched off the burner. He lifted me onto his hips, his mouth never breaking from mine. This was incredible. Everything about him made me feel safe…and loved. Even though we hadn’t gone there, I could feel it.

  I took him by the hand to stroke the tender skin underneath my shirt, my eyes never leaving his. I gave him a small smile, because words were unnecessary. He knew.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, stroking my face.

  I nodded. I was ready for this, and more than that, I needed this. He knelt before me, his touch caressing the fabric of my panties; his gentle kisses to my pubic bone left a numbing sensation in their wake. Giving me a nod and blinking slowly, he eased them down over my knees, letting them fall to my feet.

  Dressed in only my shirt, I watched as he undid each button, one by one, his eyes never leaving mine. I breathed in deeply as his hands slipped the shirt over my shoulders until I stood naked in front of him. I watched him take his shirt off, then his pants.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as his fingers trailed from above my breasts down through the middle until they reached the beginning of my sex. I closed my eyes as his fingers slowly trailed up and down. I was so wet. My knees buckled as he slid a finger inside me.

  With his other hand cupping my face, he brought me closer to him until our bodies pressed flush up against one another. His lips connected with mine, our mouths moving as one in such an intimate, personal way.

  Tilting my head back, I sighed as he slipped a second finger inside of me. I couldn’t describe how amazing it felt. It was like he knew exactly what I needed, what my body craved.

  He gently lay me down on the bed, his fingers still circling inside me. I moved my legs further apart, willing them to plunge deeper inside of me. He kissed my neck, his tongue drawing softly along my collarbone. I was in heaven. This was the single most intimate experience of my life.

  I moaned, stroking my nipples as he nibbled on my ear, his tongue curling around my lobe.

  “Please, I need you,” I whispered, wanting him inside me. I reached down, wrapping my fingers around his erection, gently stroking back and forth. He reached for the condom on the beside table, rolling it on.

  Poised at my entrance, he stared into my eyes as he pushed himself inside me, creating a slow and steady rhythm of rocking back and forth. I closed my eyes and sighed, the connection I felt with him unlike anything else.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I nodded, curling my legs around his waist. His thrusts deepened and increased in speed as the climax began to build in both of us. He groaned as he released inside me, his eyes never straying from mine.

  He kissed me, his fingers stroking my hair.

  “I love you, Beth,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  My eyes widened. I kissed him again, this time with more passion and more desire.

  “I love you too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Beth

  The knock caught me off guard. Roman was early. I quickly tidied up the kitchen and then raced for the door, my excitement to see him surprising even me. I swung open the door, unable to wipe the smile off my face. Wow, I have energy. Where the hell did that come from?

  My face froze when I realized it wasn’t Roman, but Ivan standing there.

  “What do you want?” I asked in a shrill voice, trying to push the door closed. But before I could close it, his foot wedged its way in between the door and the frame.

  “Come on, Bethy, is that anyway to speak to the man who gave you your dreams?” Sarcasm. Great. I fell backward as he pushed his way inside.

  “Get out, Ivan. I mean it. Now.” All I could think was that I wished I felt as strong as I sounded right then.

  “Settle down, I’m here on business only.” He sighed. “You’re going to L.A. next week for a read-through for the part. I need you to deliver something for me.”

  “What?” I said, confused. I haven’t even agreed to try out yet, and all of a sudden I have an audition? I loved the idea of acting, sure, but I hated him presuming I would say yes. Part of me wanted to turn it down just to spite him. “You can’t run my life, Ivan. You don’t get to decide what I do.”

  His eyes narrowed as he stepped toward me, a cocky expression on his face. “I got the feeling you couldn’t wait to get away from me for a while, Bethy.” He reached out and fingered my dress.

  I stood there, terrified, and unable to move. Just like that, I was back to that night. I’d never be free from him. He was always going to have this over me. “You just remember, honey, last time? That was nothing compared to what I’m capable of. I own you.” His mouth was inches from mine, his eyes burning into me, into my soul. My knees weakened, and I struggled
to keep my composure.

  “Leave me alone,” I hissed. “Get the fuck out, and leave me the hell alone. I have a friend who will be here any moment, and if he sees you, I guarantee you’ll be sorry.”

  He laughed, but backed off. “Don’t threaten me, Bethy. You have no idea who you’re dealing with. I’ll be in touch.”

  ***

  A suspicious-looking package arrived three days later via Ivan’s personal courier. The small, well-wrapped parcel was heavy and solid. My heart sank as I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t what I thought it was.

  I set it down in front of me and carefully unwrapped the brown paper that covered it. Sighing, I sat back and stared at the clear package of white powder sitting in front of me. There had to be more than a two pounds of coke here. What the hell was I? A drug courier now? No fucking way. I’d rather lose everything than do this.

  Fuck Ivan.

  How much more could he fuck my life up than he already had? There was nothing he could do to me that would hurt me more than he already had. This was my chance to hurt him. I wanted him to suffer just as he had done to me.

  I swiftly picked up the package and my phone, and headed to the bathroom. Before I could second guess what I was doing, I’d slashed the top of the package open and was pouring the contents into the toilet, all the while filming it with my other hand. I coughed as the residue from the substance filled the air.

  “See that, Ivan? That is what I think of you. Go to hell, you fucking fuck.” I spat out the words with venom. I pressed stop, and then sent the video to his cell.

  It took less than a minute for my phone to start ringing. I stared at it in shock.

  Holy shit, what have I done?

  My heart began to race as I processed what had happened. What was the street value of coke these days? How much cash had I just flushed down the toilet? More to the point, who owned that coke?

  My phone continued to ring nonstop. I didn’t answer, even though I knew he was probably on his way over here. I paced the hallway, panicking. What the hell was I going to do? I reached for my phone and called Roman.

  “Hey,” he said warmly.

  “I’m in trouble,” I blurted out.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, immediately concerned. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” I sobbed. “God, I did something really stupid . . .” I burst into tears and collapsed onto the floor. All I’d wanted to do was to get Ivan off my back.

  “I’m on my way. It will be okay, Beth, try not to worry.”

  ***

  I waited for what felt like hours for Roman to arrive. In reality, it was only a few minutes. As I stood by the door waiting to spot his car, my phone beeped. My hands shook as I read the message.

  You stupid little bitch. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? If you think I was rough with you, these guys will make our time together seem like a sweet teenage romance. These guys have killed for less than this, Beth.

  I was hysterical.

  How could I have been so stupid? I’d wanted to hurt him like he hurt me—only all I’d done was gotten myself in a whole heap of shit. I’d been around enough drug dealers to know that they didn’t mess around. When they found out what I’d done, they’d hunt me down and kill me. Or worse.

  Sliding down the wall, I sat on the floor, hugging my knees to my chest, panicking and silently freaking out. Please hurry. Come on, Roman. Hurry.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Roman

  The ten-minute drive to her place seemed to take hours. I hadn't felt this nervous in years. She could barely speak on the phone; something was seriously wrong, and I had no idea what that was.

  Finally, her place came into view. I slammed my foot on the accelerator and drove up the hill, screeching into her driveway. The gate was open. Why was the gate open? The gate was never open. Beth was one of the most security-conscious people I'd ever met.

  Blood pounded through my body as I climbed out of my car and ran to the door.

  “Beth? It's Roman. Let me in.” The door opened, revealing a terrified-looking Beth standing behind it. She was literally shaking like a leaf, her eyes wide with fear. I walked in and took her in my arms. She burst into tears, relaxing into my embrace.

  I walked her over to the sofa and sat her down. I needed her to calm down if I was going to find out what the hell was wrong. So help me God, if anyone had hurt her . . . Let's just say things wouldn't end well for them.

  “Beth, I need you to calm down. Look at me, Beth. Look at me.”

  She lifted her eyes to mine. What the hell had her so terrified? She was shaking, and her face was white except for her eyes, which were red from crying. Even in this state, she was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.

  “I can't,” she whispered.

  “Beth, you can. You're one of the strongest people I've ever met. You can do whatever you want to do. Tell me what happened. Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

  “You can't fix this, Roman.”

  “Let me try. Did someone hurt you?”

  Her sobs got louder. And there was my answer. My body tensed at the thought of anyone laying a finger on her. Shit. I’d fucking kill the bastard.

  “Beth, I need you to talk to me, okay? I'm two seconds away from calling the cops.”

  Her head shot up. Her eyes were wide with fear. “Don't do that! Please, please don't do that.”

  “Then you’d better tell me what the hell is going on.”

  “I did something. I did something really stupid.”

  “What? What did you do, Beth?”

  “I'm in some serious trouble. I can't stay here,” she declared. She jumped up, glancing around the room, that same look of terror in her eyes. “They know where I live. This is the first place they’ll look. I've got to go.”

  I followed her as she ran toward her bedroom. I watched as she grabbed a bag and begun stuffing random items of clothing into it.

  “Fine, come with me, you can tell me what the hell this is all about on the way.”

  “Roman, no. This is my mess, not yours. I don’t want or need your help.”

  I snorted and reached out, grabbing hold of her hand. “Then why did you call me? You know what, Beth? It kind of looks like you do need my help.”

  Without a word, I walked her outside and opened the passenger door, waiting for her to get in. She glared at me and stood her ground, as if she had some kind of point to prove.

  “I don't need you to save me.”

  “Beth, get in the fucking car. If things are as bad as you say they are, then every second you stand here and argue is one second you're closer to having to explain yourself to them rather than me.” I shrugged as if I didn’t care. “Your choice.”

  That got her attention. Her pretty face creased into a frown as she crouched down into the passenger seat, scowling.

  Sighing, I slammed the door and walked around to the driver's side. “So, are you going to tell me what is going on?”

  She didn't respond. Instead, she just stared out the window. I glanced down at her fingers, which were fidgeting like crazy in her lap. I sighed. What did I have to do here? I was so worried about her, but if she wouldn’t tell me what was wrong, I couldn’t help her.

  We drove in silence, and I figured the best thing I could do right then was wait until she was ready to talk. Whatever was wrong, at least I could protect her if she was with me.

  I drove us out through the mountains to a small fishing shack my father used to own. I was about ninety percent sure it was abandoned, so I figured it was as good a place as any to hide out for a few days. As we drove through the last town before the shack, I stopped to grab some supplies.

  “You stay here. Do you need anything?”

  She shook her head. Nodding, I climbed out of the car and slammed the door. She was so damned frustrating sometimes.

  I put her out of my mind as I walked around the supermarket, grabbing handfuls of supplies—enough to last us a few days. U
ntil I knew what the hell was wrong, I had no real plan in mind of what to do. I mean, for all I knew she could be in the shit for missing a day at work. I chuckled to myself. Maybe this was her way of trying to get me alone? No—if Beth was one thing, it was forward. She didn't hide behind games. If she wanted me alone, she would just ask.

  I walked back to the car and threw the bag of groceries in the trunk.

  “You sure you don't want a bathroom break or anything?” I asked her, my voice soft.

  She half-smiled and shook her head. “I'm okay,” she mumbled.

  She speaks! At least we were getting somewhere.

  “The cabin’s not too far away. We will be safe there for a few days, but I am going to need to know what's going on.”

  She nodded and looked away.

  I pulled up outside the old wooden shack, where I had spent many weekends as a child. It looked abandoned. Well, more than that that, it looked unsafe for human habitation. The roof toward the back of the shack had begun to cave in. The once bright yellow paint had peeled off, revealing the rotted weatherboards. Every window had been smashed. God, even the door was barely hanging on by a hinge. But I had to make the best of the situation. I caught Beth eyeing the cabin dubiously, which made me smile.

  This place was definitely a step down for the princess.

  “Can you handle a couple of days roughing it?” I smirked.

  She shot me a look, her eyes narrowing. “Can you?” she retorted.

  Fair point.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Roman

  “Beth, I need you to tell me what is going on. I want to help you, but I don’t know how.”

  She sat on the sofa, with me kneeling between her legs, my hands resting on her thighs.

  I reached up and tilted her chin. Her sad eyes gazed back at me. “Please, talk to me.”

  “I did something really stupid,” she whispered. Her face was drained of color, as if she’d just realized the full ramifications of her actions. She was beginning to scare me. What the hell could she have done that was so bad? She was terrified.

 

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