Forced to Forget_Blackmailing the Billionaire Series

by Tasha Fawkes

  Maybe I've found someone to trust after all. Or maybe I've just reached a place in my life that what I need is so big that I'm desperate for someone to talk to. Chloe could be my friend, if I let myself trust her.

  “I’m sorry I acted so crazy back at the office,” I say as I look down into the bottle’s neck. I can’t look at her just now. “I’ve been feeling bad about it ever since. You didn’t deserve it. You don’t know what’s really going on with me because I didn't tell you, so I can't hold you to anything.”

  She’s uncharacteristically subdued when she replies, “You don’t need to tell me. I’ll mind my business. You were right. I should've listened to you when you said you didn't want me setting you up.”

  But I shake my head. I need to tell her—if not her, then who? I don't have anyone else. “I’m so tired of keeping it all to myself. It’s heavy, and I can’t carry it all on my own anymore.” My voice is surprisingly steady.

  She puts her hand on my arm and gives it a compassionate squeeze. “Then I’m here.” Her expression is earnest. “I know I sound like I never take anything serious, but I'm here for you, Jane. Whatever you need. And I promise I'll listen this time.”

  I believe her. And maybe that's why I tell my story for the first time ever.

  I start slow, which surprises me. I always thought when I let someone in on this part of my life it'd come out in a rush, but that's not the case.

  “I told you about my parents’ and how I grew up in a foster home, but I didn't tell you that I did have an uncle. Kind of. He used to come through town every once in a while. He was my mom's half-brother, or at least that's what he said. His job meant he was always traveling, which was the reason he gave for not being able to take care of me when she died. I don’t know how much of what he said was true, but he must've been able to prove it because he had it all arranged with my social worker that whenever he was in town, he could spend time with me. It was only once or twice a year from about seven until I was thirteen, and it always felt awkward.” I take a deep, shaky breath. I could stop now, make up some lie or excuse, but Chloe is there, and she's listening, so I continue, “On my birthday that year, he came by. We went to a bar, which seemed beyond strange to me. I was only a kid, you know? But he was my only connection to my 'real' family. He got drunk, and it got really late and the other guys in the bar were looking at me...”

  “Oh, my God,” Chloe whispers. Her hand tightens on mine like she knows what's coming.

  I close my eyes, but they pop back open almost immediately when he's there. “When we got into his car, he grabbed me. Tried to kiss me. I turned my head, but he slobbered all over my face and started groping me. First over my sweatshirt, then he started trying to get under it, then between my legs...”

  “Jane...”

  “He didn't...I mean it didn't get that far. But it wasn't for lack of trying. Thank God I was wearing jeans. He could barely get his fly down, and then he couldn't get...it up. He tried, and then he grabbed my hand and put it...” I swallowed hard and felt Chloe's fingers dig into my arm. “I fought him off and got out of the car and ran all the way back to the house. It was a few miles, but I barely noticed. I was just so glad to be away from him. He never came back, and I never asked about him.” I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. My hands are in fists, but I actually feel a bit lighter. “I’ve never felt comfortable with men since then. I hate being alone with them. I seize right up...if I'm not freaking the fuck out. And that’s why…you know. Why I’m still a virgin.”

  The next thing I know her arms are around me, and it's the first real hug I ever remember getting. “I’m so sorry, Jane. I didn’t mean to push you the way I did. I never would have if I'd known...”

  All the fight I had goes out of me. I lean against her and allow myself to accept the comfort she’s trying to offer. “Thank you, Chloe. I've never told anyone...never had anyone to tell.”

  “I’m glad you told me.” Her embrace tightens. “Thank you for trusting me.”

  She finally sits back, taking my hands between hers. I wonder if this is what having a sister could be like.

  I'm the one who breaks the silence. There's one more secret I need to share. “The worst part is, you know how you kept talking about helping me find the right guy? I think I finally did. But I can’t let myself be open with him.”

  “You did?” She sits up, and there’s interest in her eyes though she manages to reign herself in. She’s learning. The less I’m pushed, the more I share willingly.

  “Well...” I look at her from the corner of my eye to gauge her reaction. “It’s Anthony.”

  Her jaw drops, and for several full seconds, she's actually speechless. Which, I'm sure, is the first time. “What? As in Anthony James?”

  I nod, then tell her everything that happened, right down to the last moments in his bed. Well, almost everything. I refrain from anything graphic—and I might leave out some of the more embarrassing noises I made—but she doesn’t seem to mind. She’s too busy staring at me with wide eyes, drinking in every detail. By the time I'm done, she holds her head in her hands.

  “I—I can’t believe it.”

  “You don’t have to sound so surprised.” I smile. I like having a friend.

  “You know I don’t mean it that way.” She rolls her eyes, a friendly grin curving her lips. “Wow. You and Anthony.”

  “Me and nobody,” I remind her.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do know it. I blew it. You weren’t there. How patient is a man like him supposed to be? And the more time that’s passed, the worse it is. I just can’t bring myself to face him again. I’m so embarrassed, and I don't know how to tell him.”

  “Listen. I’ll go with you to find him, if it’ll make you feel better. I think you should try to tell him. If only to make it right for you.” She squeezes my hands. “You can trust him.”

  I nod slowly even though I'm not entirely sure that she's right. Not about trusting him, because that's something I know for certain. He's already proven that by confessing that he used my ideas for Chambersmith. And not about whether or not I should tell him, but if I'm strong enough to do it.

  Chapter 20

  Anthony

  I can’t believe this is happening. But no matter how many times I tell myself to stop, I can’t. I won’t. I need to forget about how much I wish it's another woman in my arms. With Trinity writhing around in my lap, rubbing herself against the growing bulge just below my belt, it’s as good a way as any.

  And less of a hangover than drinking myself to oblivion would be.

  “Mmm…baby…”

  She sighs as I run my mouth over the skin of her throat. She smells good. Familiar. There’s something to be said for familiarity. She’s just what I need to forget about Jane. The thought of her makes me hold onto Trinity even tighter. The blonde groans and grinds against my dick, running her hands through my hair, pulling my mouth away from her throat so she can thrust her tongue between my lips. It's nothing new, but my body responds. Hell, maybe my body responds because it's the same old thing that I'm used to.

  It's not just what she's doing to me. I know just how to touch her to drive her nuts, the way to run my hands up her thighs and over her ass to get her to moan. I dig my fingers into her soft flesh and groan. She’s so ready for me. There's no question about that. The back corner of the club is just dark enough for us to get away with what we’re doing without being noticed, but I don’t think I could get away with much more without risking getting thrown out. A shame, because I’d love to just pull aside those panties and slide into her, lose myself and all memories of anything—or anyone—else.

  Dammit!

  Again, I’m thinking about her. I can’t stop. I have another woman in my lap, a beautiful woman whose hand is sliding between us to massage my dick as our tongues twist together, but I can’t stop thinking about fucking Jane Ward. It’s not her hand or her tongue or her body. It’s not her.

  And I f
eel myself going a little soft.

  Shit.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispers in my ear before biting on the lobe.

  What is wrong? That’s a good question. I wish I could give Trinity some great excuse about this place being too public, but I know she'd see through that shit. In the past, all that would mean was we needed to find somewhere a bit more private. I wouldn't be losing an erection because of it.

  And part of me doesn't even want to look for a reason, because that could mean having to look a little too closely at some things I don't want to look at.

  Even trying to not think about it, I’m suddenly not as interested in any of this as I was just a few seconds ago. She hasn't quite figured it all out yet, though. She’s writhing around even harder, stroking me, sighing and moaning, trying to revive my interest. And it’s not working.

  If anything, it's just getting worse.

  I pull back with a frustrated sigh. “We have to stop.”

  “What?” Her voice is thick and breathy with desire, but all it does is annoy me.

  “I said we have to stop.” I push her hand away and then grab her hips, physically moving her off my lap. She lands next to me in the booth, mouth open, eyes wide.

  Her lipstick is smudged, and I scrub at my mouth to remove any sign that I'd been kissing her. I hope her perfume didn't rub off on me. I might be sick if I can't get away from that smell. It's not exactly bad, but it's what she always wears, which means the scent sends me right back to my time with her. And I don't want to be there.

  Even if it would help me to forget Jane.

  “I don’t get it. What did I do wrong?”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong.” I straighten my collar and tighten my tie, but I don't look at her. “It’s just not a good idea.”

  Wrong thing to say. Then again, I’m not sure there’d be any good thing to say right now. Her dark eyes flash fire. “Are you kidding me? What the hell is wrong with you?”

  I wish I knew. I would tell her if I could and if it would get her to shut up. She’s attracting attention, which means I’m attracting attention. And I don't want to do that. Not when my father is finally looking at me with something other than disdain.

  “This is wrong. That’s all. Why can’t you grow up and let it go?” I snap.

  Her face goes a shade of red I’ve never seen a face turn before. Not even Dad’s when he’s really mad at me.

  “I’m the one who needs to grow up? You’re the fucking child who doesn’t know what he wants! You think you can flirt with me and do whatever you want to me, then turn around and tell me it’s wrong?”

  And all of a sudden, I know how Jane felt. She got into something she didn’t necessarily think through, and freaked out when it went further than she could handle. And I was blaming her all this time. I might not have admitted in my head that I thought she was a tease, but I definitely thought it way down deep. I never figured out that it wasn’t about me or what she did to me. It was about her.

  And I need to know what it is, because she means too much to me to just walk away.

  And that scares the shit out of me.

  “This has nothing to do with you.” I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. “When will you get it through your head that not everything has to do with you? You’re not the center of the damn universe.”

  I glance around the room and wish everybody would find something else to pay attention to. Okay, so maybe I'm being too harsh on her, since it's not her fault that I can't stop thinking about Jane. And it's not really Trinity's fault that she thinks things with us might be getting going again. I made the first move. It was on me.

  “Really, Anthony? That's the fucking best you've got?” She throws back another shot. “I seem to remember you thinking my pussy was the center of the universe. You couldn't get enough of it.”

  Shit.

  This is not how things were supposed to go down.

  I look around to try to figure out how to best diffuse things. Trinity's waving for another drink, and everyone's looking at us. I need to nip this in the bud or it's going to end up going viral and all the good will my dad has toward me will go out the window. And that's the best-case scenario. The worst case is Chambersmith finding out and me losing the account on top of everything else.

  I'm seriously considering picking her up and throwing her over my shoulder when my wing man finally decides to act like a wing man.

  “Trinity, come on.” Tyler puts her coat over her shoulders and leads her to the door. Well, drags her is more like it. She practically kicks and screams the entire way, hurling curses at me as she does.

  I deserve a few of them. Maybe not all, but a lot.

  “Here you go.” A waitress hands me a drink. “You look like you could use it.”

  I take it gladly and take a seat, running my hands through my hair to smooth it down. I did the right thing. We’re no good together. Everybody seems to have forgotten the scene we made as soon as it's over, too, so the night is turning around. The last thing I need is for Dad to decide I can’t be trusted with the Chambersmith account.

  How is it possible for a single woman to turn me into somebody I don’t recognize? This isn’t me at all, the guy who cares about feelings and doing the right thing. Not that I ever deliberately did the wrong thing. Well, it's rarely deliberate. I am human after all. More often, I just never thought about whether what I did was right. Now, I’d give anything to have Jane here so I could apologize for not trying harder to understand why she ran away.

  “Anthony!”

  My head snaps around in the direction of the door, and I stop just short of rubbing my eyes to make sure I’m not dreaming. There she is, marching over to me. I can’t decide if she’s happy or angry or what, but it doesn’t matter right now. She’s here. It feels like I haven’t seen her in years. My heart does some weird trippy thing.

  “Jane?” I barely have time to say her name before she takes me by the lapels of my jacket and pulls me to her for a kiss better than anything Trinity or any other girl has ever given. The best kiss of my life. I slide my arms around her waist to hold her, not to pull her to me, necessarily, just to touch her. It's enough just to touch her.

  Her lips are like silk, and her taste...fuck, how did I forget that taste? All I want is more, but I know this isn't the time or the place. Especially since the only thing worse than getting caught arguing with Trinity in public is having someone publish that I was making out with two different women within minutes of each other.

  When I step back, we’re both out of breath.

  “I’m ready now,” she whispers. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  “You’re sure?” Every nerve in my body is screaming for me to take her up on it, but I can’t risk her running off again. She's worth more than a quick fuck. Or even a long leisurely one if it means that's all I get. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

  She nods, her eyes shining. “Stop overthinking it.”

  Chapter 21

  Jane

  When I see him at the club, in that moment before he turns and sees me, he has such a lost expression on his face that it breaks my heart. And it helps me make my decision. I don't want to be scared anymore. I want to do this, and not just because I know he wants it, but because I want it.

  Then he looks at me and the heat in his gaze is enough to send desire rocketing through me.

  I'm walking toward him with only one thought on my mind: I need to touch him.

  The kiss is everything I hoped it would be. It's intentional on both parts, and for the right reasons this time. There's no wondering why or what the other person's thinking.

  When he asks me if I'm sure, I know I've made the right choice. He barely takes his eyes off me as he tells a friend that he's leaving. He just nods at Chloe, but out of the corner of my eye, I see her beaming. I tell myself I need to thank her, but there will be time for that later.

  There's a town car waiting when we leave the club,
and I expect Anthony to give the driver his address as soon as he slides in next to me. Instead, he asks, “Will you be more comfortable at your place or mine?”

  “I think we'll both be more comfortable at yours,” I say. “My bed is that futon, remember?”

  He gives me a wry sort of smile as he brushes back some hair from my face. “Sadly, I don't really remember much, but I'll take your word for it.” He wraps a lock of hair around his finger. “I don't want you to feel any pressure. If you want me to stop at any point—”

  “You will, I know.” I take his hand and press a kiss to his palm.

  “I don't want to jinx this, but can I ask what made you change your mind?” He laces his fingers between mine and rests our hands on his knee.

  I know I'll need to tell him about my past, but this isn't the right moment. So I give him the truth, but not all of it. “Chloe talked some sense into me.” He raises an eyebrow, and I add, “She reminded me that I can trust you.”

  The rest of the ride to his place is quiet. He keeps me close, tucked under his arm, our hands clasped together. I wait for the panic to kick in, for the memories to come pouring forward. I'm in a car. With a man. Who's touching me.

  When nothing happens, I force myself to think of each specific thing. Better to work on calming myself now and have it all under control by the time we get to his place, than to freak out right before we take that last step like I did before.

  The flashbacks don't come. My uncle's face stays in the past. It's only Anthony's hands. His scent. The warmth of his body.

  For the first time since it happened, I feel like I’m in control of every part of me.

  We maintain our silence until we reach his door, but the air between us is steadily thickening. My heart is loud in my ears, my body warming as my stomach twists and churns. He won’t hurt me. He would never. He only wants to bring me pleasure. Be with me.