Tied to His Betrayal

by Stacey Kennedy

  I don’t get too caught up in that smile. I imagine she’s perfected it to get what she wants. “Well,” I say, completely understanding her surprise. I’m not even sure this isn’t going to backfire and burn me. “I’m done worrying about what you’re going to write. So, let’s get to it. You have free rein here, ask whatever you want to know about me.”

  Her smile turns a little more devilish now, eyes holding a wicked twinkle. “Tell me everything.”

  “From the beginning?” I ask.

  She nods. “Precisely.”

  “Okay, let’s see….” I take a quick look at Allie, seeing her phone is gone now, likely stuffed back into her purse, before addressing Penelope again. “Darius and I met through his half-sister, Allie, who you know is also my best friend.”

  From there, Penelope remains enthralled with each word that spills from my lips as I recite every little detail of my past with Darius. But that’s not all I tell her. I explain all the things I’d recently learned that he did for me, without ever knowing he did so much. There’re so many things that I don’t know how to deal with, but this, I know. And I’m determined to tell the world all the good that Darius does. He might want the public to see me as a hero, but Darius has been the hero all along. And it’s about damn time the world views him as that.

  My world has been altered now, and I can never go back to what we had before. Because I know now, and I guess maybe I should’ve always known, he’s loving me in the only way he knows how. And I never saw how deep that love ran until I saw how he’d frozen time for me. Which, in turn, also told me how much I hurt him when I ended things. I realize now he never said a word. He let me end it because that’s what I wanted. He’s never pushed me one way or another. And my hurt feelings never let me see his eerie silence, or the way he walked out, leaving me in a way he’d never left me before, without an explanation.

  Blind, that’s what I’ve been. But I’m not blind anymore. No matter how hard it was, Darius always told it to me straight. I’ve been so caught up in fear that he might hurt me, I never saw how much he was hurting.

  I never saw how much he needed me. I never saw that all those things that scare me about him, scare him, too. Because with Darius, it’s what you don’t see that matters. It’s that no matter what he was going through, he came to see me because I needed him. It’s that no matter that we broke up, he bought all the things I love to ensure they stayed the same when I came home.

  It’s all the things I didn’t see. It’s all the things I somehow missed.

  But it’s all I see now.

  “And,” I say, ending the story of me and Darius. “That brings us to today.”

  “Wow,” Penelope breathes, turning off her recorder and leaning back in her seat. “Okay. Wow. This is not the Darius Bennett the world knows.”

  “No, it’s not,” I say with a hard smile, because that’s what makes this woman’s job so terrible. She focuses on all the things that don’t truly matter. “But it’s the Darius Bennett the world should know because it’s the real him.”

  Penelope lifts a brow. “Are you sure he wants the world to know this?”

  “Of course not,” I acknowledge, knowing there will be hell to pay later. “But I’m done hiding. I’m done being afraid of the truth. This is our life, and I happen to love this life and love him.”

  She smiles, and honestly, it seems so genuine. Which is confusing to say the least. Shouldn’t she be the spawn of Satan? “Do you believe there is a reason why he publicly portrays someone so different from who he really is?” she asks.

  I snort a laugh. “Because he’s private and not very good at showing his emotions, especially to people he doesn’t know.”

  “So then, you’re saying that he made the donation to make you look good?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And why would he do that?”

  I stare at her, right in the eye. “Because you’re doing your best to make me look bad.”

  She doesn’t even cringe, which tells me she thinks of this as a job, nothing else. And I can’t help but feel a little sad for her. “We’re printing information from our sources.”

  “Bullshit,” Allie sneers.

  I glance over my shoulder and see Allie’s glare, when Penelope says calmly, “What we print always has some truth behind it.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Allie replies, her voice cold and hard. “You dig for dirt in places you shouldn’t be digging. You want that juicy story, regardless that it could ruin a person’s life.”

  Penelope lifts her chin, clearly a defensive move. “If a secret is so dirty, then who’s the bad person here? Me or the person behind the dirty little secret?”

  “Or,” I interject before the tension turns into a catfight between my best friend and this reporter. “You speak up to ensure secrets don’t become dirty at all.” Which is why this is so damn stupid. If Darius simply told the world all the good he did, then told them about his damn sex club and the type of sex he enjoyed, who would care?

  Maybe a few uptight people. But they’d get over it. Or at least, I think they would. And if they didn’t, fuck ’em.

  Penelope leans forward across her desk, her eyes probing. “So, you’re telling me you’ve told me everything about Darius Bennett?”

  Well, he owns a sex club because he used to play a Dominant role to submissive women who fulfilled his every kinky fantasy. “Yup, that’s it.” Darius said himself that he’d never share information about his club to protect his members, and I would never tell that secret either, but it would be the only secret between us and the world. Nothing else. I just can’t stand it any longer. People need to see him the way I see him.

  Penelope glances over my shoulder at Allie, her eyes twinkling. “Well, then, are you planning on telling me all of Micah’s secrets now?”

  Allie snorts. “Not in this lifetime.”

  Penelope barks a laugh.

  I chuckle, too. I might feel good about this, but it’s obvious by Allie’s clear distaste for Penelope that she doesn’t agree with me now. She would never have this interview. But I know, instinctively, that it’s the right thing to do for Darius.

  My heart is telling me I needed to come here today. And I guess that’s what makes me see Darius in a way that Allie never will. She might be his sister. But I hold his heart, and it’s about time he knows it.

  “Anything else you’d like to say?” Penelope asks me.

  I’m so tempted to find out who the mole is. I don’t doubt in the least that Penelope knows who it is. That it’s very likely she pays this person directly for digging up dirt on Darius and the other guys. Instead of doing what I want to do, I say, “I think that’s it.”

  “All right, well, thank you for sharing your story,” Penelope says, rising from her seat.

  “Do you know when it’ll be printed?” I ask.

  “This story?” Her eyes dance. “Without a doubt, it’ll be on the cover tomorrow.”

  As I rise from my chair, Allie interjects, voice tight, “Words of warning: be careful what you print in your trashy magazine. You realize who you’re dealing with, right?”

  Penelope grins, almost in challenge. “Is that a threat?”

  “No,” Allie replies, her grin deadly. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t be pissing off the most influential men in San Francisco, who possess the money to make your life a living hell.” I notice a glimmer in Allie’s eyes, and I know exactly what she’s going to say next, when she adds, “Because I can almost bet that they’re not the only ones with secrets.”

  In full support of Allie’s line of thinking, I add, “And dirty little secrets, at that.”

  Penelope’s eyes flick to mine, blazing hot. “Is that another threat?”

  I pause to consider how much pain this woman caused me, regardless that she does actually seem like a very nice person, and shrug. “Keep sharing all of my dirty little secrets in the tabloids, then it’s fair game to share yours, too.”

  Chap
ter 20

  Darius

  “Sir! You cannot go in there!”

  I ignore the tiny Spanish woman chasing after me and stride into the hallway of the last place I thought I’d ever be, the offices of Gotcha! Emotion is leading my steps. I can barely control the anger lacing my veins when I spot Taylor hugging Allie.

  The second my half-sister sees me, her eyes widen, and even if I can’t hear her, I see her mouth form the words “Oh, shit!”

  “Oh, shit, indeed,” I drawl when I reach them.

  Taylor gasps and spins around. “Darius. What are you doing here?”

  “Do not let anyone interrupt us,” I say to Allie before turning to Taylor. “We need to talk.” I grasp her arm, tugging her along, leaving Allie behind. She’s Micah’s problem now, and I can only imagine he’ll be less than thrilled to hear that these two came here to willingly offer up information.

  Two steps forward, I notice a sign with the words Supply Closet on one of the doors on the left. I move there, pushing the door open, and dragging Taylor inside before slamming the door shut. “What have you done?” I demand answers, spinning around to her. “I’ve spent all this time keeping you protected and you decide it’s a good idea to walk in here of your own free will.”

  “I did what I had to do,” she states, crossing her arms, holding her ground. “I won’t fear the tabloids anymore, Darius. I refuse to. And now they have no leverage over me. There’s nothing else to tell that I’m afraid they’ll find out. It’s all out in the open.”

  “What did you tell them?” I clench my jaw, thinking of all the repercussions that will likely come from her honesty.

  “I told them about my past, about Shawn. But more important, I told them about us.” Her voice begins to soften with each word, eyes becoming gentle. “I told them what you did for me.”

  I frown at her. This conversation is not going how I expected it to go. I was furious on the drive over, but now, seeing her looking at me this way, with such peace on her face, my anger is gone. “What did I do?”

  Tears fill her eyes, and her voice shakes. “You bought all of my favorite places. The ice cream…the books…the burgers. You wanted things to stay the same for me.”

  I swallow deeply, feeling an odd warmth fill me. “They’re your favorites.”

  “I know they are.” She gives me a sweet smile. “But explain this all to me. Why would you do all that for me and not come after me when I left?”

  “Because I wanted you to leave. I wanted you to find your own life,” I tell her, now admitting a truth, even though I know it’ll make her look differently at me. “I know what you’re thinking here. That I bought all these things for you, but I did that for me, too. I’m selfish. I bought all those places so that I had something of you in San Francisco. So that I could drive by and remember the times we had. So that I could remember you. It had nothing to do with making you happy. It was always about me.”

  I can’t lie to her.

  She takes a step forward, heating the air between us. “No, Darius, that’s not true.”

  “It is.”

  She’s this close now, and it’s taking everything inside me not to yank her against me, when she adds, “That’s love. That’s what you do when you love a person so madly that you need something to remind yourself of them.” She wipes another tear and then gently adds, “I realized something after I learned you bought all these places, and from knowing what I know of your mother, I finally saw that I made a really terrible mistake by leaving.” I can barely breathe, my heart hammering as she adds, “I didn’t see it then. I don’t know why. Even when I came back now I didn’t see it, but it’s all I see now.”

  “What do you see?” I manage.

  “That you need me to stay. That you need me to tell you this is the life I want. That you need me to say that you’re all I want, too.”

  My throat is tight. “I do not need that. I want what’s best for you.”

  “Which is being with you.” She steps even closer now, staring up at me with so much warmth, pressing her hands against my chest. “Darius, you’re everything that makes this world good. All that you do, all that you are, amazes me. There’s nothing I want more in this life than you.”

  She’s cracking something inside me. A wall I never knew was there. But in this moment of weakness, I don’t fear what I feel, I relish it. “I don’t want to change you.”

  “You have changed me,” she retorts, placing her warm hands around my face. “You’ve changed me in beautiful ways I never dreamed of changing. But here’s the thing. I know you instinctively want to push me away because deep down you’re expecting me to leave you, somehow thinking that would be better for me, but this time, I’m saying no. I’m staying, with you.”

  “But…” I begin.

  “No,” she states firmly now, eyes strong and focused, as her hands grip my dress shirt tight. “I’m not leaving. You love me. And God knows I love you, too. This is our time and we’re taking it.”

  I wondered what steps to take next after my father left my office, and I realize now, in this moment, I don’t have to think about it. She’s right there, telling me to take her.

  And I won’t ever push her away again. When I did that, her world crumbled and my world stopped, as if time no longer mattered, as if I could not exist without her.

  “You’re right,” I tell her. “I do love you. Madly. Insanely. You’ve been mine from the moment I touched you. If you want me to be yours, Taylor, then I will be. It’s that simple.” I yank her into me and seal my mouth over hers.

  But before I can deepen the kiss, she pulls away, cheeks flushed. “We can’t do this here.”

  I turn toward the door and lock it. “Do you think I give a fuck about anyone in this building or what they think of me?”

  She’s blinking rapidly, slowly backing away, hands up. “No, but if anyone gets a key and comes in here, this will be all over the tabloids.”

  I arch a brow at her, taking a step forward, closing the distance. “Isn’t that the point of you coming here today? No more fear. No more worries. Get out of the past and live in the now. Isn’t that what you said?”

  “I did say that.” She begins to grin.

  “You’ve offered yourself to me.” I grasp her hips tight. “Let me have what’s mine.” She relaxes, giving me what I want. Her. Everything. All that belongs to me.

  Her mouth is on mine. Her hands caress my muscles as if she needs me as much as I need her. And for the first time, I believe that’s true. I’m not thinking anything but how badly I want to be inside her when I grasp her hips tight, lifting her onto the table next to me. I unbuckle my belt and shove down my pants while Taylor’s wiggling her way out of her pants, leaving one leg still in them. Then her mouth is back on mine, kissing me urgently, breathing deeply against my own rough breaths.

  I step in between her spread thighs, my erection against her soft, wet pussy, and I enter her in one swift stroke. Warm wetness spreads over my bare cock, and I’m thrusting my hips, not to get her there. This isn’t about getting her off. This is my claiming her. My marking her as mine. The acknowledgment that our bodies belong together, and from this day on we’ll only live for each other.

  Her tears brush against my cheek; she’s clearly feeling the emotion I rarely share. I open my eyes, finding her pupils dilated and her gaze heated. “I love you,” I tell her, understanding her emotion. Christ, feeling the swell in my chest all the same. “I love you,” I tell her again. And I don’t stop whispering those words as I kiss all the flesh I have available to me. She smells of cinnamon today, a perfect treat that’s all mine.

  Though then it’s not enough, not for either of us. I feel her need soaking my cock. I withdraw, turn her around, press her chest against the table, then kick her legs open.

  I reenter her hot slit, but I don’t thrust. “I want to own all of you. I need that, Taylor.” I press against her clit, preparing her body for more, exciting her. “Will you be a good girl and come
for me?”

  “Yes,” she rasps, quivering beneath my fingers. “If you keeping doing that…Oh, God, yes.”

  I move my fingers with intent now, from side to side, so fast, burning my muscles but ignoring the strain, moving faster and faster, until I feel the hard tremble of her legs.

  “I can’t.” She squeals, shutting her thighs. “I can’t be quiet.”

  I thrust my fingers through her hair, angling her head back to ensure she can’t move and again kick her legs open. “You will. For me.”

  She hisses through her teeth when I stroke her sensitive clit, and I don’t relent, not now, not when I have her wiggling against me, thrusting against my cock even if she’s not trying to. Her inner walls are pulsating, and she’s so very wet.

  When she screams with intensity, trying to pull away, I release her hair to slap her ass hard. She quivers and gives a piercing scream, so lost in pleasure, a burn rushes through my veins. I slap her again just to hear it once more. As she shakes against me, I fist my hand in her hair, not letting this build any more than it has.

  She’s there.

  I flatten my fingers against her clit, rubbing roughly and quickly until all I hear is her loud moans filling the small room, growing more and more urgent. My biceps burn against the sheer force I’m using to stroke her engorged clit, but her legs begin to tremble, stealing any thoughts of myself. Her quiver becomes uncontrollable, and the second her high-pitched scream blasts through the air, I press her clit tight, letting her ride out her release.

  Slowly, second by second, she returns from the high, a panting mess.

  “Holy shit,” she drawls, head pressed against the table, eyes shut. “That was so, so good.”

  I tsk at her. “You should know better. That isn’t done yet.”

  I slap her ass, yank her head back, arching her back, and pound into her heat, relishing that beautiful scream once again. I grab her breasts outside her blouse before sliding one hand inside her bra and pinching her nipple, flooding her with more sensation.