Secrets, Lies & Imperfections

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Secrets, Lies & Imperfections Page 1

by Pamela L. Todd




  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgment

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  Secrets, Lies and Imperfections

  ISBN # 978-1-78430-826-1

  ©Copyright Pamela L. Todd 2015

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright October 2015

  Edited by Shannon Combs

  Totally Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2015 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

  Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Sizzling and a Sexometer of 1.

  Beautiful Sinners

  SECRETS, LIES AND IMPERFECTIONS

  Pamela L. Todd

  Book two in the Beautiful Sinners series

  Falling for her could be his biggest gamble.

  Life as Seth Hamilton feels pretty damn good. Easy-going, charming and blessed with a face to make panties drop, Seth has it all. For the last two years, he has been sleeping his way across Europe, enjoying a carefree life and reaping the benefits—until his hotel-mogul father orders him home and tells him it’s about time he grew up.

  Back in his hometown of Las Vegas, Seth is adamant he won’t follow in his father’s footsteps. He wants something out of life, to leave his own mark. The only problem is he has no idea what he wants to do—apart from enjoy everything the world has to offer.

  Cassidy Reynolds knows what she wants out of life, and Seth Hamilton is not it. She refuses to be another notch on his whittled-down bedpost and fights against the obvious attraction and raw sexual heat he exudes from every pore.

  Seth has never met someone like Cassidy—funny, sharp-tongued and way too smart for his charm. After a disastrous first, second and even third impression, Seth finally convinces Cassidy to give him a chance for her to get to know the real him.

  Everything about Cassidy flips Seth’s world around. And for the first time, he realizes what it means to have something worth fighting for.

  Dedication

  For my oldest friend, Heidi.

  Thanks for all the cake.

  Trademarks Acknowledgment

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Rain Man: Star Partners II, Ltd. Guber-Peters Company

  Oscar: Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences Corporation

  Olympics: Comité International Olympique Association

  Toyota: Toyota Jidosha Kabushiki Kaisha TA Toyota Motor Corporation

  Converse: Converse, Inc.

  Tupperware: Dart Industries Inc.

  Netflix: Netflix, Inc.

  Botox: Allergan, Inc.

  Aston Martin: Aston Martin Lagonda Limited

  Boy Scouts: Boy Scouts of America Corporation

  Rubik’s Cube: Ideal Toy Corporation

  Post-It: 3M Company

  Romeo and Juliet: William Shakespeare

  YouTube: Google, Inc.

  iPod: Apple, Inc.

  Prius: Toyota Jidosha Kabushiki Kaisha TA Toyota Motor Corporation

  Caesars: Caesars World, Inc.

  Dior: Christian Dior Couture, S.A.

  Sherlock: Conan Doyle Estate Limited

  Willy Wonka: Warner Bros. Entertainment, Inc.

  Corona: Cerveceria Modela, S.A. de C.V.

  Jack Daniel’s: Jack Daniel’s Properties, Inc.

  Oreo: Kraft Foods Holdings, Inc.

  Pop-Tart: Kellogg Company Corporation

  Cujo: Viking Press (Stephen King)

  Budweiser: Anheuser-Busch, LLC

  Peter Pan: Disney Enterprises, Inc.

  Mack Trucks: Mack Trucks, Inc.

  Chapter One

  The streets teemed with people. Bodies spilled out of the bars, singing and laughing. Music pulsed in the air—different songs, different beats that couldn’t be discerned unless you were in the actual bar. Promoters armed with fliers stopped people, giving away tickets for free shots and insisting their club had all the best action.

  It was spring break. And I was in fucking heaven.

  “So what brings you girls to Spain?” I asked no one in particular. The group of five girls had giggled and glanced in my direction for so long I took pity on them and invited myself to join them—bringing a cocktail jug with me.

  “We’re on holiday from uni,” the brunette of the group answered. She rested her elbow on the table and pushed her tits so far out I was surprised they didn’t burst free from her shirt. “We just got here.”

  These Brit girls were my favorite kind of tourists—beautiful, flirty and clearly out for a good time. I placed a hand over my heart. “And the first thing you did was come see me? Aw, I’m touched, girls—really.”

  Cue collective giggling.

  First-nighters fell into one of two categories—the ‘play it safe, it’s only the first night and I don’t even know this guy’ and the ‘fucking-A I’m on vacation, bring on the cocks and cocktails, what happens in Spain, stays in Spain’. The brunette was definitely in the fucking-A category…maybe her red-headed friend too.

  She smiled as she lifted her cocktail glass, her eyes full of promise. “Well, we heard a good-looking Yank was chatting up all the girls, so we didn’t want to feel left out.”

  Oh yeah, the redhead was definitely down.

  An ice cube smacked off the back of my head, making me start. Scooping a handful of ice cubes out of the cocktail jug, I turned around and threw them back at Jesse behind the bar.

  He ducked before they hit him and flipped me off. “Come on, Seth. W
e’re busy, in case you hadn’t noticed!”

  “Hey, I’m making new friends over here!” I called back with a grin.

  A chorus of giggles broke out around me.

  “He finishes at two, ladies!” Jesse shouted before giving me a pointed look. Usually we were good with covering for each other while in pursuit of a new lay…but yeah, the crowd was thickening around the bar, and if the owner caught me slacking off, I’d be looking for a new job. And this was one sweet gig.

  Vardis was one of many bars along the main drag in the tourist town. Decent in size, it pulled in the crowds. I’d worked for the owner there last summer and when I’d returned last month, he’d hired me back as manager, along with Jesse. It wasn’t often we were front of house like this, but two bartenders were out—with those dreaded hangovers that seemed to be catching—and being spring break, it was crazy busy.

  So there I was, playing the part of a loveable American rake, charming and memorable, but never permanent. And man, did the girls just love the part I played.

  The brunette threw her arm around the redhead’s shoulders and pressed their heads together, sending a silent, but very well-heard message. “You’ll have forgotten about us by then.”

  “Sweetheart, you ladies are anything but forgettable,” I said with a wink as I rose out of my seat. “Enjoy the drinks—and welcome to Spain.”

  The group of girls stayed for another hour but the bar was too slammed for me to get away again. They filed out of the door, my two sure things bringing up the rear. They waggled their fingers in my direction and I would swear down dead that I’d be seeing them again before the night was over.

  “Your dick’s going to fall off if you keep this up,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “I can’t decide if I should be concerned or impressed.”

  “Hey, I have a lot of love to give,” I said as though offended.

  Jesse barked a laugh and reached for a fresh glass to mix the drink ordered by his customer. “Yeah, well, some of them might have a lot of the clap to give.”

  I grinned and shook my head. “I have no idea what that is.”

  He snorted his derision and slid the drink toward the customer. “Trust me. If you get it, you’ll know about it.”

  “I might like to be generous with myself but I’m not stupid. No glove, no love, my brother. No glove, no love.” I winked at the girl waiting at the bar who was taking a keen interest in our conversation. “Isn’t that right, gorgeous? You practice safe sex, don’t you?”

  “Of course,” she purred, lifting her glass to her lips. “I like to get in as much practice as possible.”

  I held a hand out to her as I looked at Jesse. “You see? We’re all safe around here.”

  Jesse lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “Yes, yes, what perfectly respectable sex fiends you all are.”

  When my shift finished, I felt like an ass for leaving Jesse. There were ten other members of staff, but he and I both knew we were faster and more efficient and drew in the serious tips. But when the two girls from earlier showed up at the end of the bar, he knew I wasn’t going to stay to help him out.

  * * * *

  I was nestled in a warm cocoon of flesh when a persistently ringing phone rudely awakened me. Rolling over, I face-planted on a boob. We were a tangle of limbs and body parts, and extracting myself took more effort than I had, especially after an all-night threesome with two girls who tried to outdo each other.

  Talk about exhausting.

  I spanked a butt to get her to move and eventually I disentangled myself from the human knot. I found my phone in my jeans where I’d ditched them the night before. Glancing at my watch, I saw it was only eight a.m. I guessed I’d had around two hours sleep.

  The name on the phone display had me groaning for very different reasons. Throwing my head back, I summoned up the energy to answer. “Hey, Dad, what’s happening?”

  “Seth. You sound cheerier than I expected.” Dad betrayed nothing in his tone as to what he might want—or why he felt it necessary to wake his darling child when he no doubt suspected I’d only just made it to bed.

  “Well, that’s probably because I’m still drunk.” Anthony Hamilton was an intimidating man to many. To me, he was the guy I knew how to antagonize like no other.

  He didn’t rise to my bait. “Make sure you sober up before checking your bank account. I wouldn’t want you to forget, or think you were so drunk you hadn’t read the figure right.”

  Whatever cocky retort I’d been about to reply with, died on my tongue. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m done bankrolling your excuse to fornicate around Europe. There’s enough left to get a plane ticket home—which I expect you to purchase today.”

  Ah, hell. Dad had made this same threat for months. But now…he actually sounded serious. “Sure thing, Dad. I’ll see you in a few.” What he kept forgetting was I was his son. I knew my way out of a bind.

  “You should also know I’ve canceled all your credit cards.”

  Crafty old bastard.

  The second he hung up, I logged on to my online bank account and there was indeed enough for a plane ticket, and a quick check of flight prices confirmed my guess. He’d left enough for first class.

  So for the next two weeks I lived off meager funds, crashed with friends and enjoyed all the delights Spain had to offer before boarding my economy-class flight back to my shackles.

  Chapter Two

  Full dark had just settled across the sky as the plane landed, which meant I got picture-perfect views of the illuminated city as we began the descent. The second I stepped off the plane it was as if I’d never left. It’d been two years since I’d left her, but Vegas was still as bold and flashy as I remembered.

  Slinging my battered canvas backpack over my shoulder and hauling an overstuffed gym bag behind me, I headed outside to find a cab. The line was huge. If I really wanted to, I could call Dad and have him send a car or—yeah, right—pick me up himself. But the thought of heading to his McMansion any sooner than I had to was not an appealing idea.

  Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I scrolled through the contacts, searching for my brother. Instead I got sidetracked when my friend Hank’s number popped up. The bum had to be partying somewhere. Always was…and some things never changed.

  I dialed his number and rocked back on my heels as I waited for him to answer.

  “Hey, Hamilton! How’s it going?” Hank asked as he answered, a blast of music coming through the phone.

  “Good, man, good. What are you up to?” I asked, smiling.

  “I’m down at the Treasure Chest with Jimmy for Mike’s birthday. It’s fucking good here tonight, Hamilton. It’s a damn shame you aren’t here!” Hank shouted over the music.

  I laughed and thought for a second about how he had worded his sentence. “You’re at a strip club for Mike’s birthday, but Mike’s not there? What an asshole.”

  “It’s old news, Hamilton. Mike is as whipped as they come now. But we still love the guy, so we’re celebrating whether he’s here or not,” Hank said. He had always been considerate like that. “We went to OG’s for your birthday.”

  “How sweet. Get me a drink. I’m on my way,” I said, finally next in line for a cab.

  “Are you shitting me? You in town?”

  A new cab pulled up and the driver got out to put my bag in the trunk. I threw my backpack across the back seat and climbed in. “And on my way.”

  * * * *

  Daylight was a few hours away when the three of us stumbled out of the Treasure Chest. Catching up with my friends had been a blast, and the dancers were just as welcoming as I remembered. Inside it had been all too easy to forget the reasons why I was back. It was another night with my friends in one of the less-seedy joints this town had to offer. I let the swirling, writhing bodies hypnotize me until my wallet was empty and my friends were broke.

  Luckily Jasmine, who I’d taken a particular shine to, gave me my last twenty bucks back so I could g
et a cab home. What a nice stripper.

  The idea to arrive on my brother’s doorstep for a reunion was a great plan—one of my best really—unless you took into consideration the fact that I didn’t know where he lived. I knew the general neighborhood and I had a picture that Mom had emailed me, but that was it. So when the cab meter hit twenty bucks, the driver kicked me out and I hoofed it.

  A few wrong houses and a lot of squinting later, I knew I’d arrived at the right place. Blake’s house was every bit the mini-McMansion I’d pictured, though I gave him credit for keeping it subtle and understated—not the garish monstrosity we’d grown up in.

  It was too early to knock, too late to call. And the last thing I needed was Blake with a stick up his ass. No, I needed to keep my big bro as sweet as possible. The gate that led around the side of the house was unlocked. Following the path, I tried my luck at a door that looked as if it opened into the kitchen.

  No dice.

  But knowing Blake, he’d have a hide-a-key around here somewhere…and under the potted plant it was. Someone really should talk to Blake about his personal security. He was lucky it was me breaking in and not some ax murderer or whatever.

  An alarm on the wall quietly beeped when I stepped inside. Shit. This really wasn’t my night. Maybe I should have stayed at the strip club until dawn. Would have been damn easier than this fucking obstacle course I couldn’t find my way out of.

  Blake’s birthday wasn’t the code. Neither was Mom’s. I knew he wouldn’t have used Dad’s. Last chance. Fuck. It had to be something Blake wouldn’t forget, ever, and something not easily guessed. Holding my breath and preparing for an apocalyptic sounding alarm to blast through the entire house, I keyed in the date Dad bought his first hotel.

  And…breathe. Christ, I need another drink. In the fridge, I found some beers and helped myself to one. Gulping down half the bottle, I moved as quietly as possible through the house. Bathroom first, bed second.

 

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