Tied to His Betrayal

by Stacey Kennedy

  I gasp. Allie does, too.

  Even if Darius’s voice is tight, when he turns around he’s smiling. “You both need to work on your spying skills. They’re terrible.”

  The world narrows on him and I feel my body flushing with heat. I can’t help but blush when he looks at me. I know it’s wrong to think he’s cute. He’s Allie’s half-brother. But this guy is really, really cute. Great body, too. But there’s even more to him. He’s not like the boys I know. He’s just so cool.

  I smile at him, and he gives me a wink before striding away.

  “I feel so bad for him,” says Allie, snapping my attention from her totally smokin’-hot brother and onto my terribly sad best friend. Tears are welling up in her eyes, her chin quivering. “He’s giving everything up for me, Taylor. Everything.”

  “I know,” I reply. “But he seems okay about it all, though.”

  One tear slides down her face as she pulls her legs up, resting her chin on her knees. “I think he’s just trying to do the right thing. And what does that get him? Disowned by his father and now struggling to save his business.” She pauses and then growls, “I fucking hate his father.”

  I wrap my arm around her, leaning my head against hers. “I hate him, too.”

  And now, nearly ten years later, I’m staring into the face of that man.

  Darius’s father doesn’t respond to my apology for nearly banging into him. First, that’s probably beneath him to talk to someone like me. Second, he has no idea who I am because I’ve never personally met him. But every once in a while, I’ll see an article about him in the news. He’s a very rich investor. My body is tingling as I absentmindedly move toward Darius’s office.

  “He’s free,” says Charlotte from behind her desk. “Go on in.”

  I’m still not able to get my thoughts together when I enter Darius’s office, finding him behind his desk. “Was that your father?” I ask.

  Darius lifts his head. “What’s that?”

  “Your father, was that him?”

  His eyebrows draw together as he reaches for his phone, placing it to his ear. “Charlotte, was my father here? Okay. Perfect. Thank you.” He hangs up the phone. “Yes, my father was here. Charlotte tells me he was dropping off documents. Now please shut the door; we’ve got something to discuss.”

  I do as he asks, but I spin around quick, so that he can’t get off easy. “Why is he here?”

  Darius sighs, leaning back in his chair, giving me a measured look. “I’m considering doing business with him.”

  “Please tell me you’re not serious,” I say, approaching him.

  He hesitates. Then, “This is about money, Taylor, nothing more, nothing less.”

  “Well, it shouldn’t be about anything,” I retort, placing my hands on my hips, staring him down. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe him. “What will this cost you to do business with him?”

  “It will cost me nothing. If anything, it will make me a lot of money,” he says, voice devoid of emotion.

  I snort and fold my arms. “I’m talking about you, your personal investment, and you know that. When did you start talking to him again?”

  “He showed up here the other day. That’s the first time I’ve talked to him in ten years.” Darius watches me carefully for a minute before addressing me again. “I haven’t said yes to his business deal yet, so there’s no sense getting your hackles up about it.”

  “Oh, my hackles are up.” I want to scream at him. Maybe even shake him, too.

  Darius hesitates then sighs heavily, placing his hands flat on his desk. “I need to talk to you about something else, but maybe we should wait to talk until you’re in a better mood.”

  I narrow my eyes at him, because I know Darius. If it financially makes sense to go into business with his father, he will. But at the same time, I realize he’s done talking about it for now. And when he’s done, he’s done, so I oblige the subject change. “You might as well just tell me. I can’t imagine my mood getting any worse than what it is right now.”

  “Shawn’s in San Francisco.”

  “Nope, I’m wrong, it can get worse.” My heart begins pumping fast, my fingers curl into fists. How dare he? “Please explain to me how you know that?”

  Darius rises from his seat, moving in front of me. His eyes are guarded. “You got me. I’m trapped. I don’t know how to answer this question without pissing you off.”

  “Why?” I offer, raising my brows, hoping he sees how pissed I am. “Because I told you to stay out of this?”

  He neatly avoids my question and reaches into his pocket, handing me a business card. “Here, this is for you.”

  I look at the card, seeing it’s for someone at the police department. “What’s this?”

  He arches a brow. “I think it is pretty self-explanatory.”

  Of course it is, but I want him to say it. I want him to own up to what he’s done. “Clearly it isn’t, since I’m asking.”

  “Shawn is here, Taylor,” Darius says gently, though his eyes now show concern. “I’m worried for you.”

  I lift the card, waving it from side to side. “So, you’re giving me this because you want me to go to the police to file a restraining order?” I ask to clarify.

  He shrugs. “That’s your decision, but at least I’m placing the contact in your hand.”

  I shake my head in frustration. Somehow he makes it my decision, even though it wasn’t my decision to begin with. “Just because I’m taking the card doesn’t mean I’m going to the police station. You know that, right?”

  “Of course.”

  I tuck the card into my pocket, pretty sure I’ll never use it. But taking it feels right, too. I’m not an idiot. I am worried that Shawn is here, even if I don’t believe he’s a threat to me. It’d be foolish to think otherwise.

  Besides, I can’t hate Darius for wanting to protect me. The thing I don’t like is that he finds that gray area to get what he wants. Hell, I’m sure that’s why he’s a billionaire. But I’m not a business deal, and I want him to respect the boundaries I create in my life.

  “No more digging into things you shouldn’t,” I tell him sternly.

  “Understood.” He grins.

  I ignore the sexiness of that grin and add, “You’re not going to follow Shawn around, are you?”

  “Let’s not talk about that.” His grin widens.

  Fine. Because even I know it’s a fight I won’t win. “I really hope you’re not going to do business with your father.”

  “Let’s not talk about that either.”

  I huff, folding my arms. “I’m still mad at you.”

  He grasps my arms, pulling me against the hard planes of his body. “Then be mad.” He kisses my nose. “At least you’ll be safe.”

  Chapter 10

  Darius

  Later that night, high on the hilltop near the Twin Peaks and overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge, I watch Taylor take a seat on the hood of my cherry-red F-Type Jaguar, as I lift my ringing phone to my ear. “Darius.”

  “Hey, it’s Ryder. Got time to talk?”

  “Yeah.” I turn away and approach the edge of the cliff, keeping the conversation private. “Go ahead.”

  “All right, so”—Ryder’s voice is tight, edged with concern—“I doubt the leak is coming from anyone who works for you. We couldn’t find a single person who’s going through financial trouble. And without money as the motive, I can’t see why anyone would do this.”

  I agree with him, but I’m not ready to let this go just yet. “Did you look deep enough?”

  “I went as deep as I possibly could,” Ryder confirms. “But even their close family members aren’t experiencing financial trouble. We can’t see any signs of anyone being blackmailed or any other reason someone would need to come into money fast.”

  I glance down at my feet, noticing nothing but the dark shadows of the hazardous rocks below. “How about illnesses? Does anyone have a dying family member or close friend?”<
br />
  “No. We checked on that, too. Believe me, Darius, there’s nothing there. Every person we vetted is clean.”

  Good news, I suppose. Still, I want answers to clean up this mess. Round and round we go. I run my hand over my face, my palm scratching against my scruffy cheeks. “Where does that leave us?”

  “At a dead end.” Ryder’s strained voice mirrors my frustrations. “Tomorrow, I’ll check back at Gabe’s bar and see what I can find out there. I’ll let you know what comes of that.”

  “Please do.” I hesitate. Then, “Thank you for your help on this.”

  “It involves us all,” is all Ryder says before the line goes dead.

  Fuck screams in my mind. All I want to do is stop this person from hunting us down, and I’m no closer to ensuring that happens than I was after the first tabloid article. I push the deep-rooted worry sitting in the center of my chest down into my gut and shove my phone back into my pocket.

  When I face Taylor again, time stops.

  My Jag is a sexy car, but she’s never looked sexier than she does right now. A very naked Taylor is sprawled out on the hood. I’m trapped in the heat I see in her eyes and her determined stare. She’s begging me to come to her. And that’s exactly what I do.

  I’m well aware someone could drive up and see us, but I also know it’s unlikely. The area is too remote, and I bought the property years back to stop a community from being built. No one comes here but me.

  Intent to let this play out, I close in on her, noting the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She’s such a scared little thing for someone making such a bold move. To ease those little worries of hers, I run my hand up her leg slowly and delight in her quiver. Her puckered nipples are calling for the slow slide of my tongue and her legs are spread wide, inviting me to own her. My cock twitches in jealousy to have her hands stroking my rock hard shaft as she slides her hands over the smooth shiny hood beneath her.

  Slowly, I glance up at her face. There’s so much I want to take from her. I want her soul, her body. I want her, just like this. Mine to gaze upon until I fuck my craving for her from my mind.

  Be gentle, I remind myself, pressing my hands on either side of her rib cage. “You’re playing with fire, princess.”

  “Good,” she rasps, eyes hooded. “Make me burn.”

  “Goddamn it,” I growl, lowering my head, kissing the roundness of her belly. Christ, this woman, her scent, all of her, can bring me to my knees. Her soft moan carries through me as she wiggles against the car, widening her legs farther apart, urging me to go where she wants me. “Is this where you want me to touch you?” I ask, blowing across her slick heat.

  “God, yes,” she breathes.

  I blow again gently, teasing her, tempting her, driving her wild. She arches her back, offering herself to me, and I stare at her soft folds, my stomach clenching at the yearning I feel to devour her. Of course a man could respond to her and give in to her requests, but where is the fun in that?

  I grasp her thighs and yank her bottom right to the edge of the hood, grinning at her gasp and surprised wide eyes. Then I kiss her. Hard. Passionately. Each swipe of my lips against hers is driving me higher, making me want to pretend, for a moment, her body is mine again. My chest tightens when I kiss down her stomach, teasing her with what I know she wants so very badly.

  Slowly, kiss by kiss, I press my lips against her smooth warm flesh until I reach the junction between her thighs. I inhale deeply, scenting her, and then I taste her on my tongue. Not for her. This is all for me. I lap up the silky liquid she offers me, and I don’t rush savoring her on my tongue. I wait until the flavor leaves my mouth before I continue.

  I drape her legs over my shoulders and then I begin gently circling my tongue over her clit in the way she likes. Her moans are all I’m focusing on now, hearing them rising in pitch and coming more often from her pretty little mouth. She’s arching against me when I playfully nibble on her fleshy skin and push a finger past her warm folds. Then I’m grinning with masculine pride when she begins writhing against the hood of my car.

  Right when I’m about to send her flying, she grabs my wrist. “Fuck me, Darius. Please don’t make me wait any longer.”

  I groan, looking up at her from between her thighs, staring into her eager eyes. Her pleading is snapping every barrier I have to shove my cock deep inside of her and fuck away her pain. She lifts her hips, rubbing her sweet warm sex against my mouth in a blatant attempt to tease me.

  It works.

  She owns me.

  “Please,” she says again, lifting her hips up and down. “Please, I need this.”

  I nip her clit, and she gasps loudly before I lift up, placing both hands beside her shoulders. Her nipples are hard, awaiting my mouth. Her body is ripe, all mine for the taking. I stare into the soulful eyes that have been forever burned into my mind.

  “Tell me again,” I demand.

  She doesn’t hesitate. “Fuck me.”

  I can refuse her nothing. To hell with the ramifications.

  With rough hands and jerky movements, I manage to grab a condom out of my wallet and get my pants down to my knees before sheathing my throbbing dick. Our bodies meet again, her warm soft skin to my hard body, and I bury my head in her neck, inhaling Taylor’s sweet scent.

  For five years, I’ve thought of being inside this body again. For five years, I’ve been with other women, only always wishing it could have been her. With all the emotion filling me, and all the ways I want to protect her, I can do nothing but enter her roughly and ride her hard.

  Her harsh and raspy moans brush over me when I grasp her bottom in my hands, squeezing her cheeks and angling her up to meet me thrust for thrust. My hard body to her soft, I can’t have any distance between us, wanting only to keep her safe. Her inner walls are squeezing me so damn tight, and I fear if I look at her, I’ll blow, just that easily. Because it’s not only Taylor’s body I want, it’s her soul, and her eyes are where her soul lives. I kiss her neck, exactly how she likes it. I nip. I lick. I breathe deeply against her skin. I don’t ease her into orgasm, nor do I take my time. I get us off quickly. It’s too much. She’s too much. Christ, she’s everything.

  And as her tight pussy begins to strangle my shaft, I unleash the strength of my body, slamming against hers, the car rocking beneath us, leaving her no other choice but to come.

  Then she does a second later. Her screams of pleasure echo my roars as we buck and jerk against each other, losing ourselves in a place that’s dirty and raw and eternally ours.

  We stay there, just like that, her inner walls massaging my flaccid cock, and only when I catch my breath do I finally gain the strength to raise myself up and hover over her. The moment I stare into her eyes, I see trouble. I brush the sweaty hair off her face, getting a better look at her sad eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, my God, nothing,” she says, smiling softly.

  Another man would see only a satisfied woman. But I’m not any other man. “Tell me what’s wrong. Now.”

  Obviously she accepts I will not let this go until she answers me. “I guess I just…” Her cheeks flush and she looks away from me. “You didn’t spank me or anything.”

  I can only stare at her in surprise. The kinky sex…she remembers how I used to take her, and obviously she has missed it, wishing I would have given her that tonight. My pride likes that a lot.

  I rise, grabbing my pants from my ankles. “Get dressed.”

  She sits up quickly. “What? Where are we going?”

  I grasp her chin, locking her into my sights. “If you want something, Taylor, ask me for it. You want it dirty?”

  She pauses, clearly embarrassed. “Yes,” she eventually whispers.

  “Then come on.” I grin boldly at her. “Let’s go be filthy.”

  Taylor

  An hour later, I’m holding Darius’s hand as he’s leading me through a well-lit underground tunnel that we accessed through a secured door located off the parking garage at
Bennett, Inc. “Is this where you tell me that you’re actually a serial killer and you’re leading me to my death?” I muse.

  Darius glances at me, eyes amused. “No.”

  I look around at the circular cement surrounding us. “You know, it’s a good thing I trust you so much, or I’d be really freaked out right about now.” Okay, maybe I am a little freaked out.

  “But you do trust me”—he squeezes my hand a little harder now, tugging me forward to keep up with his fast pace—“so this conversation is pointless.”

  Of course he’s right. I stuff back the rest of my questions until I see another secured door at the end of the long tunnel. “Wait. You’re CIA, right?”

  Darius shakes his head and laughs, pressing his thumb against the fingerprint security scanner beside the door. “Darius Bennett,” he says, instead of answering my question.

  My attention is drawn away from him when the door clicks open and he steps into the room. The soft lighting turns on, and I slowly enter behind him, unable to fully process what I’m seeing.

  Floggers hang perfectly on the wall, along with whips, canes, crops. “Where in the hell have you taken me?” is the only thing I can think of to ask.

  “This is where I play,” Darius says behind me.

  I look from the wooden X to the bench to the chains hanging from the wall. “Where are we? Your house?”

  “We’re at a sex club I own called Masquerade.”

  I glance over my shoulder, finding him resting against the door, arms folded. “You own a sex club?”

  He nods. “For many years now, but I’m more of a silent partner than management.”

  “Oh, okay, cool,” is what my brain can manage to come up with.

  I’m trying to process all this, but my mind is spinning. Darius had always been kinky when we were together. I loved that about him. Hell, tonight on the car I wanted to see that side of him. I loved that side. I thought of that power many, many times over the years I’d been without him. He liked his sex dirty, and I liked being on the receiving end of that dirtiness. But apparently, Darius has taken his kinky desires to a whole new level since we split up.