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Tied to His Betrayal

Page 7

by Stacey Kennedy


  “God, yes,” I gasp, clenching my teeth against the burn he’s igniting inside me. “Please…”

  He’s staring into my eyes. I’m seeing a Darius I don’t know. He’s so confident, so strong, like a rock that is unmovable. He bites my lip, hard, and then states firmly, “If I wanted to fuck you, Taylor, I would.” He’s pumping harder now, faster, and I’m arching my back and pointing my toes, edging closer to orgasm. “But that’s not what I want to do. I want to do this…”

  Then I’m flooded with heat, soaring high, and I can’t imagine ever returning. It’s not the sensation keeping me there, it’s him. It’s the way he handles my body. It’s the way he commands my soul. It’s the way he reads me, understands me.

  But then I crash back to reality, breathless and weightless, and he’s chuckling, kissing my nose. “Any further complaints about how I handle your body?”

  I lie like a boneless creature beneath whatever his heart desires. “Nope.”

  Darius

  The chime of the bell on the wooden door invites me inside the ice cream shop as I hold the door open for Taylor. I take a quick look around, ensuring there are no photographers who have followed us here before stepping away from the door. In preparation for tonight, I had my driver deliver casual clothes to me and collect us from the parking garage and there hadn’t been a pap in sight when we exited. The only thing we have to worry about here is cellphones, and being near closing time, the ice cream shop is empty, with only the employee at the back, cleaning the counter.

  Cherry on Top is a classic ice cream parlor with the ice cream displays at the back of the square room and plain white metal tables and chairs scattered about for patrons. Customers are drawn to over fifty flavors of ice cream visible through the glass refrigerated cases.

  “You seriously know how to please a girl,” Taylor comments, stepping into the parlor with an infectious grin. “First…earlier”—a rapid blush spreads across her cheeks—“now this.”

  I smile at the way her eyes brighten. “You’re just a really easy girl to please.” I lean in to whisper in her ear. “But maybe that’s because I know you and your body so well.” When I lean away, her blush is deeper.

  She gives me a cute little giggle and shakes out her hands. “Okay, enough of that.” Her eyes scan the shop from left to right, concern in their depths. “Are you sure coming here is a good idea? Isn’t this exactly the type of thing we’re trying to avoid?”

  “First, I doubt anyone expects me to come to a place like this.” I grab the brim of my hat, then shake the sides of my sweatshirt’s hood. “Second, what are the chances anyone will recognize me?” I wore sweats on purpose. No one could see my hair. The public never saw me like this.

  “Well…” She glances over her shoulder at the ice cream displays before grinning back at me. “Let’s just make it quick.”

  “Good choice,” I comment, following her toward the back, seeing the lightness in her steps, the happiness she’s experiencing, and somehow that’s making me feel happier than I’ve felt in a long time.

  And it only confirms that I’m doing the right thing now. I see a little more of the old free and happy Taylor in her eyes and my pain subsides.

  When I reach the server, I don’t even hesitate. “Two hot fudge sundaes, please,” I order.

  As the server hurries off to fetch our order, I swear I can see Taylor salivating before she spins around, folding her arms. “And how do you know I didn’t want something else, mister?”

  I arch a brow. “Do you?”

  She hesitates. Then laughs and drops her arms. “Well, no, but still, I’m starting to hate how predictable I seem to be around you.”

  “It’s not a bad thing.” It means she’s still my Taylor.

  “I guess it’s not.” Her smile turns knowing. “Besides, I’m not the only one who hasn’t changed much. Like you…still the guy who swoops in to rescue everyone.”

  I snort. “In your eyes.” Only in her eyes. Because the only people I’ve ever done anything good for is Taylor and Allie, and the only reason is because both women weaken me. It’s the sweetness and the softness about them; they wrap all that warmth and goodness around me, making me do things I never do. Like, care.

  Right then, the server returns with our two sundaes, and after I pay, I follow Taylor to a small table in the corner, not near any windows. She sits and begins devouring her sundae without even looking at me.

  I smile, scooping up some ice cream. This is my girl right here. She loves incredibly hard and gives all of herself to that love. Like now, with her love of ice cream, and her inability to talk to me while she’s eating.

  Sadly, I know we must talk, and that’s why we’re here in public. I didn’t trust myself to have this conversation at the condo. Knowing us, she’d end up naked and fucked and then I’d be regretting it after. “We need to talk about what we’re doing before this goes any further.”

  She lifts her head and has chocolate sauce on the corner of her mouth. I chuckle, wiping it away and then suck the chocolate off my thumb, instead of doing what I want to do. And that’s placing my thumb in her mouth and watching those pouty lips wrap around my flesh.

  “Talk about what?” she asks, her eyes searching mine.

  “Us,” I tell her.

  “Us?” She scoops up the ice cream and swirls her tongue across the spoon.

  I frown at her attempt to distract me from a conversation I’m now understanding she doesn’t want to have. “Continue to eat your ice cream like that and you’ll put us in a very compromising position in this ice cream shop.” It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.

  Her throaty laugh doesn’t help the sudden pressure in my dick. “Ooh!” She swirls her tongue across the spoon again in the way she knows I like my cock sucked. “That sounds like it’d be fun.” She waggles her eyebrows.

  “Ah, princess, it would be fun,” I retort, lowering my voice. “But are you sure you don’t mind getting laid out on this table with your skirt up to your hips and your legs spread wide while I feast on your cunt?”

  Her mouth drops open, eyes go huge before she recovers, laughing me off. “You would never do that.”

  I arch a brow. “You wanna bet?” She watches me a moment then wisely slides the spoon fully into her mouth. “Better,” I tell her seriously. I don’t like to be teased by her mouth unless I ask for the teasing, and she knows this. “Now, as I was saying, we need to discuss what happened earlier.”

  “Why?” She sticks her spoon into the sundae, leans back in her chair and frowns at me. “I mean, can’t we just have fun and leave it at that?”

  In our old relationship we could have. But I’m not that man anymore. My ensuing relationships have had clear rules and boundaries. “Of course we can have fun and keep this very casual.” Christ, it’s what I hope she can do. There’s nothing I want more than to drive myself deep inside her. My balls are literally aching to blow. “But I need you to tell me that keeping it casual is something that you can do.”

  Her frown deepens, eyes slowly narrowing. “I’m not the kid you once knew, Darius. I’ve had a friends-with-benefits arrangement before.”

  My chest tightens. I hate her answer. But I deserve to hear it. I ended things with her. “Believe me,” I say with a snort, “I’m well aware of that.”

  “Then what are you worried about?” She scoops up another bite of ice cream, devouring it quickly.

  “I’m worried about hurting you,” I admit. I’m worried what I give you won’t be enough and then I’ll break your heart again.

  “Don’t be,” she responds, shoving her spoon back into her ice cream. “What we’re doing is fine. I can handle it. I’m a big girl.”

  But she’s not a big girl. She’s ten years my junior, and she is nearly a virgin in comparison with the women I’ve been with in my world. “As you so reminded me, you are not the same woman, but I am not the same man as you remember.” I lean against the table, closer toward her, glad the employee is nowhere
near us. “I’m not talking about this because I worry you can’t handle a casual relationship. I want to make sure this is what you want…what you need.”

  She cocks her head, wise eyes bright. “So, you’re asking me if being with you casually will make me happy right now?”

  I nod.

  “Yes.” She smiles sensually. “For right now, fucking you will make me very happy.”

  I chuckle at her bold answer before I let my smile fade away. “If it’s ever not enough, I don’t want you to feel that you can’t tell me. I want you to tell me. All right?”

  She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Geesh, when did you turn into such a serious dude?”

  “I won’t play games,” I tell her sternly. “I need to know that this won’t hurt you and that you’re thinking clearly about all this.” I am who I am. I make no apologies for it either. I don’t do romance. I give what I can, and that’s passion and a passionate treat for the body. Taylor might not be a submissive like the women I played a Dominant role with during that time of my life, but the rules are much the same. I need to draw very clear lines that neither of us can cross. I refuse to ever see her cry again.

  She leans forward and says quite seriously, “I know exactly what I’m doing, and what I want to be doing is you.” She picks up her spoon again, bringing it to her mouth.

  I watch her tongue slowly and purposely stroke the spoon, my cock throbbing jealously before I lift my eyes to her face. “That’s really too bad.”

  “Oh, and why is that too bad?” Being daring, I’m sure, she leans closer to me. “You sure look like you want to take me right here, right now, on this table.”

  I slide my hand across her warm cheek, grasping her nape. “Because that’s what you want, and that’s not what I want right now.”

  “And what do you want?” she rasps.

  I tighten my fingers, pinning her in my grip, feeling her pulse kick up beneath my thumb. “I want to punish you for that tongue of yours and the wicked way it teases me.”

  She grins seductively. “Then do it.”

  Chapter 6

  Darius

  Tuesday morning went by quickly and uneventfully. By the afternoon, just before my lunch meeting, I enter the Irish pub, O’Keefe’s, finding Micah and Ryder sitting at the back near the pool tables, along with Gabe O’Keefe, the owner of the pub, and also the final member of our secretive group, the Dominants’ Council.

  My mood is sour, considering my nonstop erections. Last night I refused four orgasms until Taylor finally exploded against my tongue as her punishment for purposely teasing me. She remains heavy on my mind today. My control to thrust deep inside her is wavering. I’m having to remind myself too often that I need to take this slow, no matter that she’s agreeable to our arrangement.

  Right now, I don’t trust myself when it comes to her. She peels apart every layer of my strength, and when she looks at me like she wants me so very badly, I am weak before her desires. But until I believe she can handle such a casual relationship, I won’t go there. I can’t chance that I’ll make this situation worse.

  The soles of my dress shoes click against the hardwood floors as Gabe’s light hazel eyes catch mine and he nods in greeting, sitting at the reclaimed wood table at the back of the pub. He’s the youngest of the group at thirty-four, definitely still very wrapped up in what this group of men stand for.

  Once the status of being so powerful in San Francisco meant everything to all of us. Even the excitement of our dirty little secret as owners of a sex club who enjoy the darker delights of kink. But as I look upon Micah and Ryder, all I see is men in their mid-thirties who are not here out of their obligations to the DC, but are here because of our close friendships. We’ve lived our fantasies. We’ve reached the pinnacle of our success.

  Change was happening within our group, and I could feel the shift as I take my seat next to Micah and across from Ryder. “Sorry I’m late,” I tell the group.

  “No worries,” says Gabe, thrusting a hand through his messily styled dark brown hair. His T-shirt and jeans don’t scream multi-millionaire, but Gabe works at his bar and hired a COO to handle the business side of his chain of Irish pubs. “Can McKenna get you a drink?”

  I notice everyone else is drinking and nod.

  Gabe waves over the bartender, and as she approaches, the pretty blond in the tight skinny jeans and T-shirt with the O’Keefe’s logo holds the eye of every man here, except for Micah. He gives me a big grin, no doubt knowing I’d throttle him if I saw him checking out another woman.

  “I’ll take a Heineken,” I say to her.

  “Coming right up.” She strides away to fetch my order.

  I watch Gabe’s eyes follow her intently, and chuckle to myself. He’s spellbound by that woman, and the best part of it is, he doesn’t hide it either. But that’s Gabe. He’s not apologetic for much. “Better suck your tongue back into your mouth,” I tell him. “It’s wagging.”

  Gabe barks a laugh and turns to me. “I’d rather stick my tongue somewhere else deep inside her.” Laughter erupts at the table as Gabe continues, “But alas, a game of cat and mouse has commenced.”

  I imagine we all want to ask more, but McKenna returns, placing my beer down in front of me.

  “Thank you.” I smile at her.

  She smiles back and then looks out at the others. “Anyone else need anything?”

  “No,” says Gabe. “That’ll be all for now. Thank you, McKenna.” She gives him a quick, sassy smile before returning behind the bar. Only when she’s out of hearing distance does he continue, “But we all know I love a good hunt, so I’m not ready to give up on her just yet.” He draws in a long, deep breath, leaning back in his chair, eyes refocused on the task at hand. “All right, we don’t have long before the pub opens, why did you call a meeting?” he asks Micah.

  Micah glances to McKenna, making sure she’s not eavesdropping, then addresses the group. “I’m aware that personal matters shouldn’t be discussed here of all places.” Meaning DC matters, which is true. The only time we discussed the DC, which included future plans for our clubs to ensure we didn’t compete with one another, was in a soundproofed room we knew was a safe location. He continues, “But—”

  “You want out?” Gabe offers.

  Micah snorts a laughs, leaning forward and resting his arms against the table. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

  “It’s been written on your face for a month,” Gabe continues, staring solely at Micah. “Your life has changed and so have your priorities. Will Juliet be handling all matters now?” Juliet is Micah’s past submissive to whom he slowly, over the years, handed control of his sex club, Impulse.

  Micah nods. “Are you comfortable talking to her without my involvement?”

  “Of course,” Gabe confirms. “I have no issue with this.”

  Micah looks at me, and I laugh. “You know, I’m okay with this decision.” I appreciate the fact that Micah is stepping away from his role in the DC. It means Allie is the only woman on his mind. It also proves to me that he’s not wanting the life he once had, a life full of secrets, sex, and seduction. He wants a quieter life, devoted to my half-sister, and that’s exactly what she deserves.

  Micah gives me a firm nod, then glances at Ryder. “And you?”

  “This is a good thing.” Ryder smiles, lacing his hands behind his head, stretching out his back. “Besides, if things don’t work out with Allie…” His gaze flicks to me and he laughs softly. “I mean to say, if anything changes in your life, you know you can always come back to the table, so to speak.”

  “Thank you,” Micah replies.

  I stay silent, not saying much else on the matter. Even I understand Micah’s decision to leave the DC, because my ties are not as tight as they had once been.

  As a young man, I searched for women to play a submissive role to me, so that I could act out my darker fantasies. I needed my club to ensure I met these types of women and kept the discretion I needed to stay far away fro
m a sex scandal. Now there is no fantasy I haven’t tried and the urges I once felt have quieted, fulfilled, and even I know I’m looking for that next thing to give me the high I once experienced.

  With that thought crossing my mind, I realize why the tabloids are so interested in Taylor. My life has been relatively boring as of late. I don’t date because my schedule doesn’t have room for relationships. I have casual sex with women who need something from me, and then they give me what I need, the kinky sex that excites me. From there, when our arrangement fizzles out, I can give them whatever they want, which buys them their loyalty and silence. One woman I helped get a contact for a movie role, which was the foot in the door she needed. Another woman, I sent to nursing school. They were my submissives, and, I, their Dominant, took care of them after our arrangement ended.

  But I suppose such an arrangement simply doesn’t interest me anymore. It’s been a good year since I had sex at all. Which made Taylor’s teasing all the more cruel. And with my cock still semi-hard from her torture, I know I would certainly enjoy unleashing all that frustration on her body.

  “With that out of the way…” I say to the group, refocusing my thoughts on keeping Taylor safe, and knowing we had bigger matters to address now, “…we need to talk about what’s going on with the tabloids.”

  “Yes, I agree,” Micah interjects, lowering his beer bottle to the table after taking a sip. “But before we get into that, how is Taylor doing today after yesterday’s story?”

  “Who’s Taylor?” Gabe asks.

  “She’s an old girlfriend of mine,” I explain to Ryder and Gabe, “who, because of me, ended up in Gotcha!, and as to how she’s doing, I’d say, she’s holding up well.” Frustration crosses every face, and I know why. None of us has a good relationship with the tabloids. The public loves those trashy magazines, but no one ever truly realizes what those stories do to people’s lives. “I spoke with her this morning and she’s spending the day at her parents’ house, likely explaining that we’re not dating and the photo of us is innocent enough.” I take a quick sip of my beer, relishing the sweet malt taste. “But this is honestly the last thing she needs in her life.” When I see confusion, I add, “She’s been dealing with an abusive ex-boyfriend and obviously would like that information to stay out of the public eye.”

 

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