Tied to His Betrayal

by Stacey Kennedy

  A pause.

  A long, heavy pause full of questions.

  Then, “I deal a lot with things that aren’t so pretty,” he says softly. “It’s a cutthroat world, and my daily dealings with people can be brutal. You say I’m a hero, but believe me, I’m not.”

  He’s still staring up at the ceiling, avoiding me, and I see his ghosts around him now. I press my hand to his chest. “Maybe not to everyone, but to the people who matter, you are. And that’s what counts.”

  I’m facing him one second and then he’s yanking me on top of him, positioning me to straddle his waist. One look into his face, I realize he’s doing what he always does, avoiding the conversation where I praise him, where he has to show emotion, where he has to be something beyond the cool and very collected Darius Bennett.

  Though with his rock-hard body beneath mine and the look of hunger in his eyes, I decide to avoid the conversation, too. Because in the end even I know while I like our conversations, going down that intimate path will lead us to nowhere good.

  I allow him to turn his back on the conversation and embrace desire, as he cups my face and pulls me down to him, my chest to his, and seals his mouth over mine. Each swipe of his tongue draws heat into my lower body, making me need him more than ever before. His hard cock is beneath me, tempting me, and I can’t stop myself from sliding down just a little bit until I reach the tip of him.

  His kiss turns more urgent, rougher with masculine aggression, and his low growl brushes sensually across me. Skin against skin, I decide to dip down farther, taking more of the tip of his cock inside me. I want him, every single bare inch of him.

  He stops me, grasping my hips. “Do you still have your IUD?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, arching, desperate to take him in nice and deep.

  He chuckles, a gravelly laugh, grasping my hips tighter, pinning me to him. “I’ve recently been tested and all results came back negative.”

  I fight against him, trying to break free of his tight hold to somehow get his big, beautiful cock inside me. “I never have unprotected sex.” Except with you…“I want this, Darius. Let me.”

  His smile is sinfully perfect. “Then take me,” he whispers so gently. So very unlike him.

  I lower against him, moaning as I swallow him up. There’s nothing between us, and it’s glorious. My eyes are shut and his grunt of pure pleasure rushes over me, goosebumps trailing on my flesh. God, he’s so thick, so long, so very perfect. I begin grinding my hips, back and forth, up and down, while his hands are exploring my chest, my neck, my breasts; his touch is everything. It’s all I need right now. And I like how he watches me now. There’re no barriers between us. All his shields are down. He’s looking over all of me, and he makes me feel sexy and beautiful. He makes me feel like I’m his in this moment. That I’m all that matters to him.

  “Goddamn it, Taylor, you drive me fucking crazy,” he growls, low and deep. He grasps my nape, pulling me down, and brings my mouth to his. Slow, sensual kisses make me move my hips faster, taking him as deep as I can.

  Oh my, I’m so wet, and I can hear the sucking sounds of our kisses and our lovemaking breaking through our soft moans. His throaty grunt tightens my belly when he’s pushing on my shoulders, sending me back, staring at me while I rock atop him, pleasuring him in ways he’s pleasured me. He tilts his chin back and closes his eyes, grabbing my hips, urging me to move faster. I want this to feel good, be the best he’s ever had.

  When his eyes open again, I’m lost in the smolder in their depths, in the heat, the desire. I thrust faster now, as his hands move to my breasts, squeezing my nipples tight, flooding me with sensation. His lips part and heavy breaths pant from his throat. I like making him feel good. I want him to know how crazy he makes me, too.

  I rock harder, giving him all I have to give, digging my fingernails into his chest.

  “Fuck,” he grunts, slapping my ass before squeezing my bottom tight. “That’s fucking perfect.” His voice is low, eyes so intense.

  I’m sure that’s enough to undo me, but then I learn I’m wrong when he grabs one breast, pinches one nipple tight. Slowly, his other hand dips low between my legs, his thumb circling my clit. I gasp and freeze, overwhelmed, as he gives the engorged bud a swirl.

  “No, darlin’, keep fucking me,” he orders.

  My mouth falls open and I grind my hips again, while he uses his finger to circle my clit, faster and faster, bringing me higher and higher. My back arches as his fingers tighten on my taut nipple, squeezing and releasing in the rhythm pulsating between my thighs.

  And that’s all it takes.

  I’m screaming, losing control. I can’t thrust. I’m shaking, quivering over him, light dancing beneath my closed eyes, as my body erupts in an explosion from head to toe. But he’s not stopping, he’s shifting my hips, faster and faster, while his fingers stroke my clit. I close my thighs, but then he opens them, punishing me more with faster strokes. I’m shrieking now, unable to do anything but welcome the searing pleasure. I’m bucking and jerking, soaking his cock, holding him so very tight. I quiver once and then can’t stop quivering, shaking violently against him.

  When my mind returns, and my body jerks in sensation, I laugh quietly, opening my eyes, finding Darius giving a devilish smile.

  “You had your turn,” he says. Before I can even think straight to understand what he’s going on about, he grasps my nape, pulling me down on top of him, staring intently at me. “Now it’s mine.” He pushes his hips up from underneath with fast, punishing thrusts.

  And then that’s when Darius takes my soul and makes it his.

  Chapter 15

  Taylor

  Bright and early on Tuesday morning, I hurry out of the elevator and enter Bennett, Inc., nervous about what will be waiting for me. I didn’t get a chance to look at the tabloids this morning to see if my face is splashed all over their covers.

  Though, as I stride past the receptionist, my black heels quickly passing over the marble floors, I realize that Darius’s latest attempt to get the press off my tail has worked. Instead of the stares and whispers I expect to receive from Bennett employees, I’m given waves and smiles as I make my way down the hallway. Either people just don’t care, they don’t believe the story because they can’t see the bruises, or I’m yesterday’s news.

  All good things, especially considering I have another interview today for the secretary position. Thinking of all the things I have to do today, I stop by the break room and grab a coffee before entering my office a few minutes later. I don’t even get the chance to sit down and enjoy the coffee before I realize I’m not alone.

  I glance at the three people in my office, and the squabbling commences.

  “Maria is spreading rumors about me.”

  “No, I’m not,” says the tall blonde on the left, clearly Maria. “She’s telling lies.”

  The man, who I met on my first day, Malcolm, is standing in the middle, arms crossed. “I’m not paid to deal with this. You are. Please deal with it,” he says to me.

  “Sharon’s accusing me of spreading rumors,” says Maria, talking over Malcolm, “because she wants to cause trouble.”

  I sigh and sip my coffee, waiting them out. Sadly, this is what comes with being the Manager of Human Resources. The bickering continues and I begin to catch some of it.

  “She’s always saying bad things about me.”

  “She’s just mad that I got a promotion.”

  Malcolm sighs, pushing his black glasses up his nose. “Again, I’m not paid to deal with this.”

  I restrain my chuckle. He looks so annoyed, exasperated, all at the same time. I wait for a pause and jump in. “Ladies.”

  Three mouths instantly shut.

  “Now, let’s see…” I set my coffee on my desk and walk over to them. “Maria, are you spreading rumors?”

  “No,” she says.

  The brunette with the round face and big blue eyes, Sharon, huffs, folding her arms. “She’s lying
.”

  “Sharon,” I interject, using my softest voice possible to ensure no one’s hackles get up. “You’ll have your time to talk. Please respect Maria’s time.”

  The look she gives me basically tells me to go fuck myself. Which I pointedly ignore, because truthfully, I don’t really care about workplace drama. I’ll referee it. I’ll also be the big bad bitch, because I’d rather be that than the topic of discussion at the watercooler.

  I focus solely on Sharon, noting her scowl. “Maria says she isn’t spreading rumors. Unless you have a recording of her doing so, we have no way to prove otherwise.” I see a little twinkle of vindictiveness in Sharon’s eyes. Clearly, I’ve given her a plan for the future. “So,” I say to Maria, “we would offer you a stern warning to remind you that we do not tolerate bullying here at Bennett.”

  “Yes, of course,” Maria says.

  Honestly, I get the feeling she’s the one telling the truth. But I’m not here to make those kind of assumptions. I’m here to ensure that this ridiculousness stops and the higher-ups don’t need to get involved. None of us want that type of hell to rain down on us. Something these three don’t realize, apparently.

  To Sharon, I smile my most professional smile. “Are there any other problems that need discussing?”

  “No.” Sharon lifts her chin, all but flipping me off. “At least now I know what to do if it happens again.”

  I want to roll my eyes, but of course I don’t. “Great. Please feel free to come back and discuss this again if you need to.” I give them all a gentle smile. “Minus the yelling, if possible.”

  Sharon spins on her heels and charges out of my office.

  “Thank you,” says Maria, and she leaves, too.

  Malcolm gives me a high five, his cute blue eyes twinkling. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how a pro does it.”

  I laugh as he exits my office because I suspect that he’ll compliment me until he’s blue in the face as long as he doesn’t have to deal with office politics. I spin on my heels and return to my desk just as a soft knock comes on my door.

  “Um, excuse me, are you Taylor Erickson?”

  My heart skips a beat. A reporter? “Yes,” I say hesitantly.

  “Oh, hi.” The young brunette, dressed in a stylish yellow dress and white cardigan, gives a bright smile. “I’m your eleven o’clock interview.”

  I blink, then nearly laugh at myself for being so foolish. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry. Please come in.” I move around my desk, meeting her halfway, and shake her hand. “Sorry. You’re…” Dammit, Sharon and Maria made me unprepared.

  “Hannah Harper,” she says, handing me a copy of her resume.

  I don’t need it. I have a copy on my desk, but I like that she’s prepared, unlike me. “It’s nice to meet you, Hannah.” I wave at the chair in front of my desk. “Please take a seat.”

  Once she does, I return to my desk and sit down, giving her a look without making it seem like I’m examining her. She’s young, probably nineteen at most, with gorgeous long dark hair. Her age concerns me. I’m expecting another Sally Higgins disaster when I ask her, “Can you tell me a little bit about yourself?”

  She crosses her ankles, placing her hands on her lap. “I’m a bookworm, who also loves sports. I think that’s the best way to describe me.”

  I’m beginning to like her. She’s not a party girl, clearly not another Sally. I examine her resume, looking over all the major points. “I see here that you interned at Holt Enterprises”—Micah’s company—“for a time.”

  “Yes, my high school required we do that for one of our credits.”

  “Ah, I see.” I smile, peeking at her, waiting for her to say, It’s you. She thankfully doesn’t. And by the way she’s blankly watching me, she has no idea who I am. “Might I ask what happened with the internship?” Usually they lead to a job, so I’m curious.

  She shrugs. “To be perfectly honest, I want to work for a company that hopefully I can move up at. With Holt, the position they offered me just didn’t leave room for advancement.”

  “So, you turned it down?”

  She nods. “I did.”

  I like her bravery. Hell, I remember being like her at one time. Going after my dreams, working my way up at crappy jobs until I had my dream job in San Diego, being the head of the HR department. To working now at Bennett, Inc. “Do you know that Bennett, Inc. has grants for employees to attend nighttime college courses for further training?”

  “Yes,” she replies. “It’s one of the reasons I applied.”

  “That’s great.” I smile. She’s got initiative, too. “All right, so before your internship at Holt, you worked for a lawyer, is that right?” I ask.

  “Just part-time,” she explains with a nod. “But I answered phones, maintained the lawyer’s schedule, and things like that.”

  I stop reading her resume at her references, then look at her. She’s got experience. Not much, I concede, but enough that with a little training I’m sure she’ll do great. “One last question,” I ask her. “Do you read the tabloids?”

  Her eyebrows shoot up. “Like the grocery-store magazines?”

  “Yep, exactly, those. Do you read them?”

  She shifts in her seat, clearly uncomfortable by my question. “Um, no, should I?”

  “Absolutely not.” I smile, rise from my seat, and offer my hand. “Congratulations, you got the job.”

  “Really?” She’s all smiles when she jumps to her feet, shaking my hand across my desk.

  “Really.” I grin back. “I think you’ll do great here, and yes, use the grants program to further your education. There’s a lot of room here to move into other departments. Sky’s the limit.”

  Plus, she’s the fifth person I’ve interviewed for the job. Two were underqualified. One was overqualified and we couldn’t pay her what she deserved. And the other was Sally Higgins.

  “Of course,” I add, “I’ll have to call your references. But I’m sure that will all go fine.”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Hannah says, eyes excited.

  “I’ll be in touch once I have your first day set up,” I tell her.

  “Thank you. Thank you.” She offers her hand again, and I shake it as she adds once more, “Thanks so much.”

  “You’re very welcome,” I say, feeling good about it, too. This is the part of my job that I love.

  She gives me a quick wave before she leaves my office.

  Feeling pretty damn happy myself, I return to my seat. Maybe I am a pro like Malcolm said. I realize that I am in the right job, doing exactly what I should be doing. And after all I’ve been through, that realization feels so damn good that I can’t help but smile.

  All lit up inside, I want to share it with Darius. I reach for the phone and dial his extension. “Hi, Charlotte,” I say when she answers the phone. “Is Darius available?”

  “No, I’m afraid not at this time,” she replies. “He’s in a meeting with his father.”

  I freeze in my seat, a sick feeling engulfing me. All the light dancing inside me extinguishes, just that easily. “Oh, okay…” I manage.

  “Would you like me to tell him you called?” she asks.

  “Um, yes…yes…thank you.” I hang up the phone, feeling cold.

  I stare out into the hallway, watching my co-workers striding by my doorway. On one hand, I’m praying that Darius tells his father exactly where to go. On the other hand, the little voice in my heart worries what will happen between us if he doesn’t.

  Darius

  I move toward my office, seeing my father sitting in the leather wingback in front of my desk, looking all too casual. He’s here for his answer. I feel the tension slide through my muscles as I enter my office.

  My father’s head swings in my direction. “Good.” He rises from his seat. “You’re here.”

  I’m an hour late arriving to work, but that’s a perk of being the boss. I don’t have to answer for why I spent my morning inside Taylor, instead of getti
ng to work on time.

  I meet him at his chair and shake his hand. “I apologize that you had to wait.” The second I can, I drop his bitter touch, stretching out my fingers, pushing back the distaste. I stride behind my desk and take a seat, sipping my coffee before placing the mug down by the keyboard. “I take it you’re here because you want an answer to your proposal.”

  He nods. “Time has run out.”

  I lean back in my chair, thinking over all the documents I had read on the proposed investment, including the additional documentation that I asked my father to deliver to me. “I’m not opposed to this project, but I want to meet with the team at Hoyes Financial.”

  “Why?” Frank asks, brows arching.

  “I don’t trust you,” is all I say.

  A tense moment passes between us.

  My father finally breaks the thick silence. “You don’t take my word that the business proposal is legit?”

  “No.”

  My father snorts, leaning back in his chair, crossing an ankle over his knee. “So, this is what you’ve become? A ruthless businessman who trusts no one, not even his own father?”

  “Does that not make you proud?” I retort, teeth clenching, my eyes never leaving his. He’ll never win a power struggle against me.

  A slow smile curves my father’s mouth, his wicked eyes dance. “I suppose that, yes, I am quite proud of what you’ve become.”

  This is not a conversation I want to have with him. “You can have your assistant get in contact with Charlotte about scheduling a meeting that suits your schedule.”

  “But I also need an answer before I bring everyone together.”

  “I already said that I’m interested.”

  “But interested is not a verbal agreement.”

  Done with this pissing contest, I lean forward across my desk and state very clearly, “You don’t come into my office and make demands. If you want my investment, then you will do as I’ve asked you to do. If you don’t, then this meeting is over and you can leave.”

  I see the pride in his expression, and it sickens me to my stomach. He thinks I’m like him. I don’t want to be. I don’t even feel like I am. Though there’s something in the way he’s looking at me that’s so familiar. I’ve seen this cold and calculated expression before. I think back, recalling the moment, and my mind goes hazy.