The Billionaire's Private Scandal

by Jenna Bayley-Burke

  After tossing the jeans into the wash, she reached behind her for her bra clasp. Brandon swallowed hard, and wished for time to speed up. He ran his hand over the top of the dryer, his fingers playing with the soft leather of her belt.

  “Do you remember that Labor Day party when we tested out the spin-cycle theory?” She shrugged off the bra and added it to the mix.

  Brandon could only nod and pray she wanted a repeat performance. Though he didn’t remember it being one of their better moments, he’d settle for anything right about now.

  “I think that’s what’s happened to us.” She hooked her fingers in her panties and pulled them down. She leaned over and he had to close his eyes. If he watched any more he’d be inside her within ten seconds with no preamble or permission. “We had fun for a while, but when it came down to it, the cycle ended.”

  His eyes shot open and he wanted to disagree, but she’d already left the room. He scrambled out in time to watch her shapely bottom sway with each step up the stairs.

  …

  Megan made it all the way to the bathroom before her bravado cracked. Her hands shook as she turned the taps for the bath. She and Brandon spent most of their time together naked, but that was before she knew he was spending time that way with Gemma Ryan. Even the woman’s name made her shoulders tight. Gemma came from a family with money they didn’t earn, just as she had. The difference was that Gemma’s family still had both their money and their status, while she had neither.

  Brandon loved money, evident by the names he’d given their dogs—though he claimed Cash was named after the man in black, she never actually believed him. She shouldn’t have been surprised when he found her dissolving liquidity a turn-off.

  And Gemma had lots of boy toys, which meant she had lots of bedroom experience to dazzle Brandon with. Megan had only ever been with him, so if he hadn’t done it, neither had she. Maybe Gemma’s resume had been the attraction. He wanted someone who knew how to be wicked in ways she’d never even thought of.

  Bile burned her throat at the thought of him and the leggy bottle blonde. Her stomach twisted and knotted as she opened drawers, telling herself it wasn’t to find evidence that he’d been here with someone else lately.

  She braided her hair as she checked the room. Megan couldn’t find any evidence that he’d brought the tramp here, even her own bottle of almond bath oil was still tucked in a cabinet.

  It was too bad she couldn’t find something to stoke her ire.

  She was starting to doubt her ability to carry out her plan to seduce Brandon.

  Not his willingness, she knew him well enough to know she could have had him on the washing machine long before the spin cycle. She didn’t know if she could have sex with someone she wasn’t in love with. She couldn’t love Brandon anymore, not after what he’d done to her father, and what he’d done with Gemma Ryan.

  She poured some of the bath oil into the deep garden tub, the warm water activating the sweet almond scent. From the cabinet beside the shower, she grabbed a white towel and set it on the ledge beside the tub. Sliding into the warm water was the closest thing to heaven she’d experienced in months.

  By the time the tub filled enough for her to turn off the taps, Megan realized that while she knew she couldn’t love Brandon anymore, she hadn’t exactly stopped. The water sloshed around her as she sank deeper, remembering how touched and sweet he’d been all those years ago after he realized a little too late that she was still a virgin.

  The next weekend he’d declared a do-over and they’d made love slowly with dozens of candles flickering around his bedroom. Now that was a night to remember.

  “I really hope you’re thinking about me.” His deep voice filled the room and warmed her from the inside, the way it always had. She didn’t even startle at the sound.

  “I’m thinking this tub is as wonderful as I remembered.” She didn’t open her eyes, but noticed the room darken. He must have turned off the light.

  “I remember a couple of amazing nights that started in this tub.” The water rippled around her, the movement feeling like a faraway caress.

  Before she let herself get pulled under by the sensuality of the past, Megan opened her eyes. He’d taken off his shirt so he wore only his jeans as he crouched beside the tub. “Is that why you brought me here? You wanted to have sex and my apartment wasn’t doing it for you? Were you too afraid someone might see us at the penthouse?”

  Brandon pulled his hand from the water as if it burned him. “I wasn’t the one who wanted our relationship to be a secret, Meg. That was all you.”

  “You loved it though. The secrecy and sneaking around made it hot for you.” She met his gaze, hating the mocking stare he gave her.

  “It was hot for you, too. I am not the big bad wolf in this, and you are not an innocent little red riding hood. My mistake was in not pushing you to be honest with your family about us years ago. That’s where I went wrong.”

  “Nope, that’s not it.” She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Every time she thought of where things went wrong, her mind supplied her with a montage of images of Gemma Ryan plastered to his face. “We’ve seen how the media has picked apart the relationships of our friends. Keeping things private was the right choice. Can you imagine the press if they’d known about us when your little deal went down? It would have been absolutely brutal.”

  “And this isn’t? I’ve spent two months thinking you’d chosen your father and the islands over me, and then I find out you never left, but couldn’t be bothered to even let anyone know that you’re all right? These last few weeks have been torture, knowing you were working yourself like crazy and that you’ve lumped all your anger over what happened on me.”

  “I can’t absolve you of your guilt. You did a bad thing, a couple of them.”

  “No, I—”

  The water rippled as Megan raised her hand out of the water and held it up. “Stop making excuses for what happened. You had your reasons for blindsiding me. I’m never going to think they’re any good. And in light of what’s happened since, you don’t make a very strong case.”

  He paced the bathroom and pushed his hands through his hair, creating a disheveled disarray that reminded her of what he looked like in the morning. Her heart squeezed with longing to see him that way again. Her love for him wasn’t a switch she could flip or a dial she could turn down. He’d hurt her horribly, betrayed her completely, and yet her soul still held on to him as if he were the prince she’d always hoped he would become.

  He turned to face her and put his hands on his hips. “What do I have to say to get you to see I didn’t do any of this to hurt you?”

  “I never thought you did. You just didn’t think outside yourself enough to realize that it would.” She leaned forward and pulled the drain, the gurgling sound of the disappearing water filling the silence.

  Megan both craved and hated what she was about to do. A part of her wanted to be with Brandon and feel alive and happy the way she used to, but another part hated the idea that by being with him she’d be bartering her body for the security he could provide. She wished she had more options, but it seemed options were the only thing she had less of than money.

  She couldn’t leave without her dog, and she couldn’t take him with her. Animals weren’t allowed at her apartment complex and she couldn’t afford any place else. She was as trapped as Wendy from the coffee shop. When she found a way out of this, she’d also find a way for the Carlton Houses to accept pets. Her fundraising abilities had slipped since she’d become persona non grata with the charitable set, but it wouldn’t be like that forever. Now that she knew how desperate and trapped it felt, she’d do whatever it took to make pets an option for the women at the shelters.

  Just like she’d do whatever she had to now to keep Brandon from his new lover, and keep herself with Cash. She hoped that some
day the ends would justify the means.

  As the water swirled down the drain with the remains of her stubborn pride, Megan pushed up and stood in the tub, letting the water sluice down her bare body. Even in the dim room, it caught Brandon’s attention immediately.

  She reached for the towel, and then stood up tall, pulling her shoulders back as she started patting her body dry. She could do this because he would make it easy. Just like always, she’d lay out the invitation and he’d be on her before she could say RSVP.

  This was it. The escape hatch from the disaster her life had become. All she had to do was give him an inch and he’d take her all the way back to their old life. But her hands were shaking and her heart was racing and neither was conducive to temptation.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, searching for the courage to seduce him. She’d done it countless times before, but then she’d needed nothing from him.

  “Megan?” His tone was low and husky, a sound so familiar and comforting her eyes drifted open. It really was like going back in time as he held out his hand and helped her step out of the tub. The bathmat was soft beneath her feet as she let him take the towel from her hands and slowly, oh so slowly, dry her skin.

  In a few more minutes she might not need the towel. Heat flared within and she figured the water would simply turn to steam. She looked down at Brandon, his broad shoulders and solid chest and desire spiraled within her.

  He’d always oozed sex appeal. It was what had drawn her to him long before she had any chance of being able to handle it. He had a sexual energy that was as tempting as it was intense and overwhelming.

  And it was exactly what she needed.

  As he crouched down to dry her legs, she spread them wider, her skin aware of his every move. His face was shadowed as he looked up at her, a grin curving his full lips. He flung the towel on the floor as he stood.

  As if by magic, he managed to lift her into his arms. On instinct, she wrapped her arms around his neck, the fingers of one hand pushing through the shorn hair at the nape. He carried her into the bedroom and laid her back on the pillows of the bed. He joined her before she could think, nuzzling his face against her throat as his hands caressed her body.

  “Whenever I smell almonds,” he whispered, his hot breath making her squirm, “I think about the time you got that kiddie pool and we slathered each other with bath oil and made love over—” he licked her neck, the scene playing in her head like a movie, “—and over—” he swirled his tongue against her throat as his hands slid up to cover her breasts, “—and over.”

  She moaned and reached for him, the stubble on his face rough against her cheek as she dragged his mouth to hers. She kissed him as if he were water in the middle of the desert.

  She felt exactly as she used to—wild and free and hungry for him.

  She flattened one palm against his chest, feeling the thundering beat of his heart beneath the wall of muscle. He rolled her aching nipples between his fingers and bolts of electricity coursed to her center. Her mouth opened beneath the power of his lips and all her apprehensions about being with him vanished.

  He kissed, he suckled and cherished her lips and tongue, driving her mad to the point where she could almost come from the kiss itself. It was a skill he’d perfected over the years and she’d never been so glad to be on the receiving end of his talents. Her wanton body tingled as his kisses crept down her throat. It was amazing how fast she’d gone from unsure to more than ready, but Brandon had years of practice and played her body like a talented musician.

  His tongue drew lazy circles around her nipple before he turned his head and rubbed his stubbled cheek on the sensitive tip. He rewarded her with a soothing lick before he pulled the nub into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue until her toes curled into the mattress. When he repeated the performance on the other breast, she moaned his name in pleasure.

  He slid his hand down her belly and between her legs, finding her wet and ready for him. She heard the zipper of his jeans release and opened eyes she hadn’t realized she closed. A precious shred of caution slipped through her wild reckless desires.

  “Do you have any condoms?” Her tummy flipped, both wanting him to have a stash and not wanting him to be prepared because of what that would mean.

  “Why? We haven’t used them in years.” His voice was gravelly and thick, but his expression was crestfallen.

  “The pill was an unnecessary expense, considering.” She’d only stopped using condoms because she’d thought they were exclusive. That had been a condition of not sending him to the store for more that Christmas Eve four years ago.

  His eyelids drooped and his mouth twisted into a near pout. She had to smile at the wistful way he dragged his gaze over her body. The pause in the action was enough to allow her brain to start working again. Was he not using protection with Gemma, or had he just not thought to bring any with him? Maybe he hadn’t wanted to have sex with her until she pulled her naked stunt. Maybe this wasn’t—

  “Oh no you don’t.” Brandon rolled on top of her and laced his fingers in hers. “Don’t you leave me again. You were right here with me and I have missed you.”

  “Have you?” She ran her calf over his jean-clad leg, once again allowing herself to slip into the illusion that he was telling the truth.

  He moved their hands out to the side and pushed up to look down into her eyes. “Easily the worst months of my life.”

  He delivered the words with such honest conviction that her heart squeezed for him, a voice too much like hers answered back, “Mine, too.”

  Soft lips found hers again, savoring her at first, before she struggled against his grip so that she could use her hands to devour him completely. He pulled back, and then rested his forehead against hers.

  “Do you remember when somebody dared Ava not to have sex for forty days, and you thought it would be a good idea to play along?” A wicked grin tugged at the corner of his lips, full and wet from her kisses.

  “Why are we talking about my sister and her boyfriend?”

  “That was Sullivan?” Megan nodded. “Huh. Okay, but follow me here. We did make it for almost a week before you broke down and jumped me in the shower.”

  “You wish.”

  “I really do. But seriously, we managed. In fact, it was kind of fun to be creative.” He dipped his head and gave her nipple a slow lick.

  The naughty laugh she gave spurred him on. She relaxed into his ministrations, her dirty mind thinking of ways she could still accomplish her plan without him realizing what she was about. She wanted to feel like her former self, but she didn’t want to have to deal with the confrontations living that life again would lead to. Running her hands over the firm muscles of Brandon’s back felt delicious and right, reality had no place in it.

  He kissed his way down her belly and the sexual tension that had been arcing between them for weeks spiraled and focused itself into a delicious ache between her legs. He ran his hands over her hips and down the outside of her thighs.

  When he reached her knees, he parted her legs and moved between them. He placed open-mouthed, warm kisses everywhere he knew she liked—the back of her knees, where her knee met her inner thigh, the juncture of her leg and torso. Everywhere he touched, her skin tingled until she was completely intoxicated from his attentions.

  By the time he gave her sex a long, slow lick, she was pounding on the door of release. She rocked her hips against him and he anchored her steady with his hands. She reached down with one hand and threaded her fingers into his hair, the short ends prickling the sensitized skin of her palm. Every nerve ending danced in anticipation of her climax.

  With her free hand, she squeezed her breast, then rolled her nipple between her fingers, loving how the sensation travelled right where Brandon was. He slipped a finger into her, curling it towards her clit as he focused his mouth there. Her hips li
fted from the mattress as the sensations crashed together like breaker waves, sending her higher and higher until every muscle in her body relaxed in sweet release.

  While her body drifted through delicious aftershocks, he teased her with lingering licks until she shifted her hips away from him. He kissed his way back up her body, tucking her head under his chin and stroking his fingers over her scalp and through her hair.

  When she roused herself from the post-orgasm bliss, she smiled up at him. “You look pretty pleased with yourself.”

  “And you look pretty and pleased.” He kissed the top of her head.

  “I’m not buying your selfless intentions. I know you far too well for that.” With purposeful slowness, she slid her hand over the planes of his chest and ridges of his abdomen to toy with the open front of his jeans.

  “I never claimed to be a martyr, but I definitely enjoyed myself.”

  Through the thin material of his tented boxer briefs, she stroked his hard cock. As she stroked him, he let out a low groan she could feel against her head. She turned and kissed the taut skin where his neck met his shoulder, excited by all she was about to do. She tasted the salt on his bare skin, nipping with her teeth and then alternating soothing licks with sharp sucks of her mouth. He either liked it, or he didn’t care what she did while her hand explored him over his briefs.

  It felt wicked and naughty.

  The control she’d been lacking for far too long flooded back. When she was sure she’d managed what she intended, Megan pulled his shaft through the opening of his briefs, amazed by how long and thick he appeared. With his black briefs still on his body, his cock appeared like an art sculpture, ready to be praised and enjoyed. A near overwhelming desire to mount him and take her pleasure anew washed over her. A few short months ago she would have, but now she had to play the game a few steps ahead and not in the moment.

  She lifted her gaze to meet his and licked her lips. The fire of passion burned his eyes when she wrapped her hand around his girth and started to stroke him again. She fought to stay in control of the moment, but her disobedient imagination started spinning thoroughly naughty ideas for how they might both get off again. She struggled not to slip back into old habits, especially when he looked down at her with such potent desire that she felt every part the nymphet her body wanted to be.