So Much Trouble: Bad Boy Forbidden Love Romance Collection (So Wrong It's Right Book 4)

by Jamie Knight

  Another bad thing about having Rodney visit was that he kept me from playing with my pet, and today I am feeling a little anxious to have Mandy all to myself. Something in my heart tells me that I want to know if she and I are okay after yesterday’s awkward encounter and the terrible weekend where she met my father and I screwed things up with her grandmother, but I ignore that part, telling myself that I just physically need her. It’s not anything emotional at all.

  To distract myself further, I brought in a few new toys to play with: a paddle and a set of handcuffs that I have already attached to the wall in my office. I plan to cuff my pet, give her backside a good spanking, and let her stand there while I enjoy the sight of her bare, red bottom. The fantasy has my dick aching.

  In the elevator up to the fifth floor, I find myself whistling. Returning to our regular arrangement has me feeling chipper and excited. I can’t wait to have my pet again. The two days without her seems like too much. I need to start playing with her on the weekends too. Unfortunately, taking her to my house is no longer an option. Maybe the floors in her apartment are done?

  Two happy, yipping doggie faces greet me as the elevator opens on the accounting floor. Eileen’s pugs seem to have memorized my schedule, either that or they always greet anyone who is coming out of the elevator. I bend down and give them each a scratch behind the ears.

  “Hi, guys! How are you two today?”

  Both dogs bark their answers as they hop and run beside me. As I pass through the maze of cubicles, I start thinking that McKenzie Tech really has turned into a nice place to work. I’ve gotten used to the tons of windows. It’s cheerful here. The merger was a good choice.

  When I round the corner, Mandy is standing up, expecting me. To my delight, I see that she has already changed into work clothing. She has on an extremely tight pair of jeans and a red V-neck t-shit that shows off her very ample cleavage. Her outfit makes my dick twitch in excitement. The smile on her face makes my chest flutter. There is something about her that is glowing.

  I wave at Eileen, who is leaning on the top of the cubical wall and turn back to Mandy. “Ready to get to work?”

  A flush covers her face. “You got it, boss.”

  I nod, indicating that she should follow me. A garish laugh stops me short as we head toward the elevators. My father is here.

  “Chris!”

  I turn to see him walking out of Sloane’s office with my sister in tow. Both members of my family are smiling. I don’t want to see either one of them this morning. This is not the time to make idle chitchat. I have plans for my pet.

  As Dad walks toward Mandy and me, I see that he and Sloane are not alone. Jered is with them. This grouping of people is like something out of a horror film. I don’t want Mandy’s ex hanging out with anyone in my family — ever. The guy is scum.

  “My boy,” Dad continues. “Do you know Mr. Coleman here?” I nod coolly. “Good. He is my new favorite. Your sister and I were just about to take him out for lunch. Join us.”

  “It’s not lunchtime,” I snap. “I have work to do.”

  My father gives me one of his arrogant smiles. He even goes so far as to put an arm over Jered’s shoulder. “You need to learn to be more cheerful and accommodating, like Jered here. He’s been very friendly while I’ve been here. He even gave me a tour of the building.”

  Next to my dad, Jered acts bashful, but I can tell that every expression he makes is a lie. The jerk can probably smell money and latched onto my father as soon as he passed through security. The way that he glances at my sister out of the side of his eyes makes my skin crawl. Usually, I don’t give a damn about Sloane’s personal life, but I do not like the look that Jered is giving her. It’s too familiar — too predatory.

  Mandy shifts her feet, drawing my attention to her. Her face is pale, and I can tell her shoulders are shaking slightly. I watch as she glances back and forth from Sloane to Jered. Is there fear in her eyes? The way she acts around Jered annoys me. I can never tell if she is really over him or not. It shouldn’t bug me, but it does.

  “You should join us for lunch, Chris,” Dad continues, oblivious to the emotions running through our little group. “I got us a table at this hot new infusion place. For most people the wait is months, but you know that people can never deny me.”

  I have no intention of sitting through a fake, overly boring lunch with my father, my sister, and Coleman. I know what is going to happen. I have seen it before. Dad will probably try to take Jered on as a protégé, someone to stroke his ego as he explains his rules of life. Jered will think that this will give him an in to my father’s money and my sister, but he is wrong there. Dad keeps Sloane in a tight hold. She can date all she wants, but whoever she decides to marry has to be rich and approved. Jered does not fill those criteria.

  “You can bring your accountant,” Dad continues. “Although she is dressed quite wildly.”

  The tone of his voice makes me snap my head up. Dad is staring at Mandy’s chest. His eyes are practically putting holes in her cleavage. I know that she notices because she wraps her arms around herself some, but her attention remains on Jered and Sloane who are chatting together quietly — obviously flirting — and smiling.

  I put my hand on Mandy’s shoulder, trying to drag her to me while I glare at my father. “Mandy and I have pressing business to take care of. You all go without us.”

  “No!” Mandy shrugs out of my grasp. “I’d love to join you, Mr. Keeley.”

  “Mandy!” I find myself hissing. She cannot go with them. Why would she even want to? Is she going just to try to keep Sloane away from Jered? Is she jealous?

  “I’m allowed to take lunch breaks, aren’t I?” she snaps back at me. “Or am I your slave?”

  “No, but…” I’m not sure what else to say. She’s never spoken to me so harshly or with so much anger.

  This situation is like a nightmare. My chest is hurting. My heart is racing. I want to grab Mandy to me. I want to order her to be mine and forget that Jered ever existed, but I can’t. The more interest I show in her, the more likely my father will make a move.

  “Let’s go.” She turns her back on me, grabs Sloane’s hand, and pulls my sister towards the elevator.

  My father takes an appreciative glance at Mandy’s ass in her tight jeans. He then looks back at me to make sure I saw where he was looking. When he sees me watching him, his face lights up, and he gives me a triumphant grin. In that one look is everything I hate about him.

  “You should have been more agreeable, son,” he lectures as he turns and heads towards the elevator. “Plus, go buy a suit. You look like a bum.”

  As I watch the elevator doors close, I can barely move. I can barely breathe. I can’t believe she would choose them over me. I don’t understand.

  ****

  Two hours later, there is a knock at the door of the basement. I’ve been trying to lose myself in working on putting together the model of the new tablet. I have the electronics covering my desk and the soldering iron in my hands. She knocks again even though the door is open. I know it is her, my pet, but I don’t look up to acknowledge her presence. My emotions have been festering, and now they are dark. My pet shouldn’t have gone. She shouldn’t have left me for that…jerk.

  “Christian?” Mandy takes a few steps inside the door, but then stops. When I look up, she is leaning against the old conference table with her arms wrapped around her chest. I watch her take a deep breath. “Christian, we have to talk.”

  She’s holding back from getting close to me. Her words and body language annoy me. It’s like she is trying to break up with me — probably to restart her relationship with Jered — but she can’t breakup with me because we are not in a relationship and we never were.

  When she opens her mouth again to speak, I interrupt her. “Why did you go with him?!” I demand. My chest feels strained. It’s hard to breathe. I try as hard as I can to ignore the turbulent emotions I am feeling and keep most of my concentration on
my soldering.

  “I don’t know. Maybe I was making a point.” She starts pacing like she is too nervous to sit down. “I’m not your procession, Christian. You can’t use me. We have to agree—”

  “You’re my pet,” I snap, jumping up from my chair. “You agreed. All these weeks, you’ve agreed.”

  “I never agreed to being used. I…I thought…I don’t know what I thought, but I was wrong. Plus, all this started because you were blackmailing me! You had the tape of me masturbating.”

  “So, it was just that?! All these weeks of fun were just because you were scared of getting fired?”

  Our eyes meet. I can see that she is trying not to cry, but her face is red, and she looks angry, not sad. She starts pacing again.

  “Yes! No. I don’t know, Christian. Things just happened.” She turns and glares at me. “What do you want from me? You treat me like a sex toy, not a girlfriend.”

  “That’s because you’re not my girlfriend!” I yell.

  Mandy steps back a bit. Her lips twist into a deep frown. Her little hands ball into fists. “What was all of this, then?” she asks coolly, gesturing to the whole room and implying every dirty act that we committed.

  I remember them. I remember every touch, moan, grunt, and feeling. My imagination overloads with image after image of her face contorted in bliss and pleasure — calling my name, calling me sir. Those memories are so different from the woman who is standing before me.

  Did she do that with him too? Will she do that with Jered again?

  My heart is pounding. It hurts so badly; I just want to make the whole world stop. I can’t lose her. I can’t feel this for her. I have to make this situation all go away. I have to make her go away, so I don’t hurt anymore.

  As I look at Mandy, I can’t tell if there is a hint of disappointment in her brown eyes or just hate. The tension in my hands increases until the tops of them turn white. The logic board snaps in my one hand, sending pieces across the room. Putting my hands to my temples, I drop the graphics processor I was holding in the other.

  “I don’t have time for this,” I snap as harshly as I can. “Look, Amanda, I don’t date. Feelings are a waste of time. Especially love! Relationships are too much compromise. I’m more into give and take situations. The girl gives, and I take, and that’s the end. If you’re not okay with that, then you don’t have to come down here anymore.”

  I started off speaking strongly, but by the end of my speech, my words are just mumbles. I know that I’ve said this so many times before, but this time — with the horror I see in my pet’s eyes — I cannot stand my own words. I know that every word that I have said has been a mistake — a very bad mistake.

  “I see.” It's not the blow-up that I am expecting. Mandy’s voice is calm and cool, but the look in her eyes could burn down a building. “If that is the case, Mr. Keeley. I would like my assignment here to be done. I no longer enjoy working with you. You can find another accountant to help you set up your office. My talents have been wasted here.” She raises her little chin defiantly.

  In my head, I keep telling myself that this all is for the best. I’m getting too caught up in a woman who is obviously still in love with another man. I need to let her go, even if it hurts now.

  “Fine. Thank you for your help, Ms. Burmmell. You can leave.”

  After waving my hand towards the door, I turn away from her. Mandy stays standing still for a second. I can feel her watching me, but I won’t look back at her. The silence between us stretches for a few seconds, then she turns and stomps loudly out the door. I sit back down in my chair, preparing to work on the tablet again — but I can’t because the pieces are broken beyond repair. Not sure what to do, I just stare at my desk.

  Chapter Seventeen - Mandy

  Two Weeks Later…

  Bubby’s hand towels are the most awful shade of pink. At one point in their lives, they must have been almost Pepto-Bismol colored, but after a century or more of use, they are a tannish pink. The eyelet lace that lines their borders is frayed and has lost most of its ruffle. Every time I’m in her bathroom, I stare at them, somewhat disappointed. They just look sad for an old woman who is otherwise so full of life.

  I bought her other towels, bright multi-colored ones that I figured she would love and gave them to her for Christmas. She smiled awkwardly when she opened them. She thanked me. But the new towels never got hung up. I tried not to take offense, I mean, maybe she just forgot about their existence. So much goes on in Bubby’s busy life, towels just might be a thing she overlooks. We all have things like that. I constantly forget to buy new socks. Luckily, I mostly wear heels.

  My stomach still flipping and tying itself in knots, I set the pregnancy test on the counter next to a half-burned, pink candle and a glass duck filled with potpourri so old it doesn’t smell anymore. Or rather, it doesn’t smell good.

  I set the timer on my phone for three minutes and try to relax. The bathroom is too small to pace in, so I set the toilet seat down and slouch onto it.

  It can’t be positive. The test. It really can’t. I don’t need fate to do that to me right now. And I mean, how did it even happen? Every time Christian and I have had sex, we have used condoms. One must have just been old or something. Fuck, I don’t know.

  Leaning forward, I put my head in my hands, rubbing my temples gently and running my fingers through my hair. I am not going to cry. I am not going to cry, I repeat over and over in my head. I just never thought I would be at this moment. Wondering if I’m pregnant with my asshole boss’s baby was not quite on my to-do list. Sure, I want to have kids someday. But I would like that to be at a time when my apartment floor isn’t being redone, and their father isn’t a man who basically treats me like a sex toy. If I am pregnant, there is no way I can tell Christian. He’d probably sue or have me fired.

  Pumpkin starts scratching and yowling to be let in the bathroom door. I shush her a bit, hoping she will shut up and not make my grandmother aware that I have been in the bathroom longer than normal, but Pumpkin doesn’t listen. She keeps scratching and meowing at the top of her lungs. I reach over, turn the handle, and try to get the cat to come inside quickly. She doesn’t. Always annoyed with closed doors, Pumpkin rubs her orange fur along the door jam and purrs with satisfaction.

  “Get your butt in here!” I hiss at her.

  She looks up at me with lazy, golden eyes and purrs louder. After she is happy with her rubbing, she wanders in enough for me to close the door and lock it again. Clutching her soft body, I pull her into my lap and pet her gently. Pumpkin is a handful, but she can be comforting.

  Not five seconds later, there is a knock at the door. “Mandy, are you feeling okay?”

  Just as I open my mouth to answer, the timer on my phone beeps. I grab it as quickly as I can, throwing my cat onto the floor in an undignified way. The alarm keeps beeping as everything I try to turn it off suddenly doesn’t work. There is no way that Bubby cannot hear that. Exacerbated, I slip the phone between my breasts, it doesn’t quite silence the beep, but it mutes it, and that will have to do.

  “I’m a bit under the weather,” I call out to my grandmother. “Can you make me some peppermint tea?”

  “Sure, doll.”

  I listen to her steps retreating towards the kitchen and try to slow my breathing. Strung out and practically hysterical, I try to keep the tears from coming to my eyes. I rub them harshly and curse myself for getting into this mess in the first place. I know men are no good. Christian doesn’t love me. I kind of doubt he even likes me. I should just let him expose everything and look for a different job. I’ll probably have to move out of Manhattan, but oh well. I’ve moved before, it wasn’t terrible. I’ll make new friends.

  Worried, Pumpkin works herself around my legs, her furry body soft against my skin. Her purr is very loud like she is trying to get my attention. I reach down and run my hand over her back. “At least I’ll always have you, right?” I whisper, letting the tears fall freely now.
My cheeks are coated quickly. A few drops hit the floor.

  Buzz! Buzz!

  “Holy shit!” I jump up, fighting with my cleavage and grabbing at the phone ringing in my bra. It’s gotten a little sweaty and insists on sticking to my skin. As it slides, it answers the call.

  “Mandy?” Eileen’s voice is muffled and far away. “Mandy!” I can tell she is screaming into the phone. Shit. I’m probably scaring the hell out of my best friend.

  A few more seconds of juggling, and I get my cell phone in my hands and up to my ear. Eileen is still screaming my name. “It’s okay!” I say back. “I’m okay.” She hushes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dial you.”

  “Butt dial?” she asks, clearly catching her breath.

  “Cleavage actually.”

  She laughs. “Good, I thought you were in a car accident or something. My imagination was going nuts. I was seeing you lying on the roof of your overturned car, glass covering you and totally passed out…”

  Her words sink into the background. I’m not even paying attention. I didn’t mean to, but I saw it. The test. Two lines.

  I’m pregnant.

  Fuck.

  “Mandy? Are you still there?” An edge of worry is lining Eileen’s voice again. She can tell something is up. I need to reassure her that everything is fine. I need to convince her that I am okay when I am very not okay. This needs to be a secret. I need to figure out what I am doing and do it, not cry on the phone to my best friend. Eileen wouldn’t understand. She doesn’t want kids.

  I take a deep breath and plaster a smile on my face. I know she can’t see it, but they say that people can tell when you are smiling just by how your voice sounds. I want the words on my lips to be comforting, causal. I will lie to her.