Meant for Me (A Second Chance standalone) (32 page)

BOOK: Meant for Me (A Second Chance standalone)
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He roars in pain and touches the side of his face where I
scratched him. The next thing I know I feel a hard smack on the top of my head.
I see stars and I panic, afraid of what he will do to me when I can’t defend
myself. Just as I start to lose consciousness, I hear Deacon yell, “WHAT THE
FUCK?!” Against my will, I succumb to the darkness enveloping me.

My eyes well up from that awful memory. I remember when I
came to, Deacon was angry. “You don’t have to worry about Ronnie, princess, I
took care of him. He will think twice about ever touching you again,” he said
while stroking my face. My head hurt too much for me to react to his touch, until
I realized I’m completely naked. I ran to the bathroom heaving into the toilet,
not sure if I was sick due to the ache in my head – did I have a concussion? -
or the fear coursing through me as I had no clue how I had ended up naked or
what, if anything, had happened in addition to what I could recall.

Deacon distracts me from my thoughts when he yanks open the
closet door and grabs a box I’ve never seen before from the top of the closet. He
turns towards me, and throws the box on the bed. “You will wear this to dinner
tonight.”

Opening the box, I pull out a slinky black dress that I can
already tell will barely cover my body. “I’m not wearing that.”

“Oh, yes you are, princess. We are going to have a nice,
romantic meal, and you are going to wear that dress.”

“I’m not dressing up for you, Deacon.”

Faster than I can blink, Deacon is on me. I shrink back as
much as I can, trying to avoid his nakedness from touching mine. Grasping me by
the top of my arms, Deacon’s face is mere inches from mine, “You will wear the
fucking dress, Olivia. This is not up for discussion.” As he speaks each word,
he shakes me and squeezes me tighter, making me cry out in pain.

“Deacon! You’re hurting me.”

“Stop making me hurt you. Do you think I like this? Do you
think I want to hurt you? Why do you keep making me hurt you? Just do what I
tell you to do and we will be fine. I’ve told you over and over again that this
is our future. You and me, princess. Once you accept that, the happier you’ll
be.”

“Okay. Okay, Deacon.” I force the words out of my mouth
because it is the exact opposite of what I want. I’ve learned the hard way what
happens when I don’t keep my mouth shut or if I don't say or do what he wants.

“Good. I will be back later. Make sure you are dressed and
ready.” And with that, he grabs some clothes off the floor and leaves the room.

 

 

WHAT MUST BE a few hours later, I’m
running a brush through my hair. It’s one of the few personal items Deacon
allows me. I have no idea what I look like. I have the hideous dress on and I
keep pulling it down. The scrap of fabric barely covers my ass and my boobs are
barely contained. I look like one of the very girls I tell all my readers on
Pink
Sugar Couture
not to emulate. My inner fashion diva has officially curled
up and died.

Entering the room, Deacon whistles low, “You look hot,
princess.”

I feel revulsion internally and just stare at him. He’s
dressed for dinner in what I can't help but notice is a well-cut,
charcoal-colored, European suit and tie. Where he gets the clothes, I have no
idea. Not for the first time I wonder where we are exactly, and how this house
is associated with him. The things that I don’t know about this man continue to
shock me. How I was ever married to him, I don’t know.

He walks toward me and places his mouth on mine. I refuse to
open for him and I know it will only make him mad, but dammit, I hate feeling
helpless in all of this.

Pulling away from me Deacon looks into my eyes, “I’ll let
that one slide, for now. Come with me.”

Grabbing hold of my arm, already covered in bruises, I
slightly wince at the discomfort, as he hauls me out of the room and down the
hall. Bringing me into a large sitting room that includes a dining table, I see
that he has set up a candlelight dinner. Dread fills me. What is he up to?

Steering me towards a chair, I take a seat - or more
accurately, am seated. The table is set and there are even silver domes over
what I presume are our meals. Deacon takes a lighter from his trouser pocket
and lights the tall candles set perfectly in a silver candelabra at the center
of the table. As he leans over, his suit jacket opens slightly and I see a gun
tucked into the front of his pants. It certainly isn’t the first time I’ve seen
it while I’ve been here, but it is just as disconcerting this time as the
first. I secretly hope when he sits, the gun will go off and shoot his dick
off. He certainly deserves far worse. I smile at the thought.

Deacon, seeing the smile on my face, returns it with one of
his own. “I knew you would like this, princess. I wanted you to see that we can
have wonderful, romantic dinners like this. You don’t have to spend so much
time locked up in your room. Once you finally realize this is where you should
be, we can have dinner like this every night.”

“I don’t want to have dinner with you every night. When are
you going to get a clue, you fucking douche?”

The smile that was just present on his lips quickly vanishes
and anger seizes his entire countenance. I know I should just shut up and play
along with what he says, but I can't; I will never stop fighting. Not ever. I
will not let him strip away who I am.

After taking a few deep breaths, Deacon’s eyes once again
meet mine, “Tonight, things are going to change. The time for you to start
accepting that we are together again is right now. I’ve apologized to you over
and over for sleeping with Tracey. I’m so sorry you walked in on that, but I’m
done apologizing for it. I’ve forgiven the fact that you betrayed me with that
man, so you will forgive me about Tracey. I know once you forgive me, we will
be fine. Everything will be fine, princess, and we will be happy.”

“Not for the first time, you are out of your fucking mind. Tracey
was merely the straw that broke the camel’s back. I quit loving you long before
that.”

“ENOUGH! I am done being easy on you.”

I laugh at that comment. Easy? He calls this easy? My
laughter only angers him.

He rips me out of my chair and yanks me against the front of
his body. “You are my WIFE and you will do what I say. You
will
provide
your wifely duties. You are no longer allowed to talk back to me.”

“Fuck you, Deacon. I am no longer married to you. I don’t
love you. I love Luke. I will ALWAYS love Luke.”

He pulls me just far enough away from him to give him room
to backhand me across the face. I feel pain, blinding pain, and taste blood in
my mouth.

“DO NOT SPEAK HIS NAME TO ME!” He screams. Then, while
seething with fury, he continues, “I will not allow you to talk about the man
you whored yourself out to. Do you hear me?”

Before I can respond, his mouth is on mine. I want to throw
up. He pulls me tight to him and I can feel that he is obviously turned on from
the violence. His erection presses against my hip and his hands are all over my
body. I’m stiff and don’t move, refusing to participate in his complete
violation.

Then suddenly, an idea enters my mind. It’s crazy, but it
may just work.

Hesitantly, I reach my hands out and run them up Deacon’s
arms. He stiffens, surprised at my touch. I never return his touch. Leaving one
hand on his arm, I cup the side of his neck with the other hand and start
returning his kiss. When his tongue enters my mouth, I shudder and Deacon
mistakes it for pleasure, pulling me closer and moaning deep in his throat. I
grab the hair at his neck, and squeeze it into a fist, deepening the kiss while
my other hand starts unbuttoning his shirt, one button at a time.

Deacon pulls away from me and looks into my eyes
questioningly. It kills me to do it, but I whisper, “I want you, Deacon. You’re
right, we belong together. Kiss me.”

He wastes no time pulling me back to him and kisses me hard
once again. His tongue is brutal in its exploration of my mouth. He starts
sliding my dress off of one shoulder and just as I reach the bottom button of
his shirt, I quickly pull the gun from his pants and back up, pointing it at
him.

“Back the hell up right the FUCK NOW.” I feel like a bad
ass. Finally, I have the upper hand and I feel euphoric.

Shock is displayed all over his face. He’s breathing hard
and his eyes are glassy. I can tell it’s taking him a minute to completely
comprehend what has just happened. He takes a step towards me.

“I SAID TO BACK UP, DEACON.”

“You aren’t going to shoot me. You don’t even know how to
use a gun.”

Calling his bluff I click the safety off the gun and see his
eyes widen.

“That’s right, motherfucker. I guess you don’t know
everything about me, do you?”

“You won’t shoot me, Olivia. You don’t have it in you.”

Deacon starts walking towards me again and I take a step
back for every step he takes forward. Before I know it, my back is at the doors
leading out onto a balcony. I’m trapped, but I refuse to give up. I reach
behind me and open the doors, happy they aren’t sliding glass like the bedroom.
The cold air takes my breath away.

“Just give me the gun, Olivia. You don’t want to do this. Give
it to me, and we will go back to dinner. I made your favorite, cheese ravioli. Come
on, I will show you.” He takes another step towards me.

I keep backing up, “I said stay away from me, Deacon. I am
not afraid to use this. I
will
shoot you.”

I feel the railing at my back. I don’t know what to do. I
can shoot him and then try to find a phone and call 9-1-1. That’s what I will
do. It’s all I can do.

I grasp the gun with both hands, and before I can get off a
shot, I see the intent in Deacon’s eyes right before he lunges for me.

I overcompensate for his lunge and throw myself backwards,
right over the side of the balcony. I see his eyes widen in horror as the gun
goes off and he reaches for me, but it’s too late. I’m falling.

The fall feels like an eternity, and my life flashes before
my eyes as expected, but another thought occurs to me as well…
where are
parachute pants when a girl needs them
?

 

Here’s
a sneak peek of

SKYLER
TOWER by the bestselling author, Khelsey Jackson.

Scheduled
to release on April 17, 2014.

 

 

 

 

 

EVANGELINE SKYLER ALWAYS got what
she wanted, and since she was the CEO of Sky Tech – a computer company she
built from scratch – it had made her a very wealthy woman. She took pride in
her work because she was the only woman to do what she had done.

Her driver, Axel Roberts, parked her BMW at the curb and she
grabbed her sunglasses to place on her eyes. She had her long brown hair pulled
back in a tight bun and she reached for her black Hermes purse, waiting for
Axel to open her door for her. When he did she smiled at him as he helped her
out. He had been with her for the past five years and had become a close
friend.

“Have a great day, Ms. Skyler,” he said and smiled at her.
She never noticed how attractive he was until now. His ash-blonde hair was cut
short and aquamarine blue eyes that were surrounded by thick, dark black
eyelashes. His chiseled cheekbones and square face made her swoon. He caught
her by the arm and his worried eyes stared down at her.

She pulled herself up and away from him. Feeling
embarrassed, she had no clue what in the world was wrong with her; she had
never acted that way before. “I should have eaten this morning,” she muttered
halfheartedly, hoping he’d believe the lie. She did eat, but he didn’t know
that. “Thank you,” Skyler offered with a nod, and turned right around to her
building.

Skyler Tower was her baby; she was the one that built the
little company from the ground up and now she had over one-thousand employees
working for her. After strolling into the front door, she was greeted by the
security guard, Mike, who had been working for her since she opened the doors
five years ago.

“Hey, Mike. How is your family?” He had two teenage girls
and a wife who passed away almost a year ago.

Mike grinned. “They are hanging in there. I wanted to thank
you for my bonus.”

Skyler blushed, but gave him her best innocent look. “If you
got a bonus it was because you earned it.”

She winked at him as she made her way to the elevator. A
hand appeared in the closing doors and a man in a gray suit walked into the
small space. She glanced at him and his dark, beautiful angular face was
strikingly handsome. His raven black hair was slicked back to show off his
handsome face and his deep chocolate eyes were on her. She felt her body heat
up because he was taking her in too.

“Can you press thirty for me?” he said in a thick Italian
accent. She bit her lip, forcing her eyes away from him, and to the numbers in
front of her. She had to slide her card and was so distracted by him she forgot
to press her own floor which was the same as he requested.

Skyler was never the one to be shy and bashful, but the
dominance rolling off of him caused her to lose her train of thought. “You
didn’t press your floor number,” he murmured.

Trying to pull herself together, Skyler glanced at him over
her shoulder and said, “I am on the top floor.”

He stared at her as if he was figuring something out, and
then his deep chocolate eyes went wide. “You’re Evangeline Skyler.” She loved
the way her name sounded with his accent.

She was used to people being surprised by her, she wasn’t
what you thought of when you heard CEO of a computer company. She had long,
dark brown hair and light blue eyes. Normally, she would get mistaken for a
model or an actress, but never that she was a CEO.

“I am,” she replied with pride in her voice.

“Well, Ms. Skyler I am here to interview you for The Times.”
That was right, she remembered someone calling her office for months asking for
an interview with her. She ignored all the calls and the emails. She liked her
privacy, and being in a newspaper wouldn’t keep her life so private.

Skyler stood a little straighter and slowly turned around.
“I wasn’t aware that I had agreed to an interview.”

His alluring lips lifted into a seductive smile. “You
haven’t … yet.”

Arching her eyebrows, she studied him and watched him lick
his lips. She couldn’t comprehend why she didn’t want to turn him down. There
was something about him that was calling to her. “You have ten minutes before I
have to go to a meeting,” she stated as he grinned at her.

She was so happy when the doors opened revealing her floor.
The once carpeted office now gleamed with white marble and all the wood was
black walnut. A well-known artist had also painted the walls with beautiful
scenery.

“This office is beautiful just like the woman who runs it,”
his Italian accent said from behind her; she smiled. She was used to taking
complements, except there was something about the way he said it that made her
turn around to face him. She wasn’t the only one that was beautiful; he was
breath taking.

“Thank you. I put a lot of my heart and soul in my building
and business.” He took a step towards her and she had to remind herself to step
back. She didn’t like to show any weakness when she was at work, and he was
hers. “What’s your name?”

He smiled down at her, revealing dimples in his cheeks when
he answered, “Angelo Giovanni.”

When he talked it made her think of things, and she didn’t
like where her mind was taking her. She didn’t do relationships, she had sex.
The last relationship she was in was when she was nineteen, and when it left
her heart broken she vowed to never fall in love again. So far that was working
for her, but there was something about Angelo that made her want to break that
vow. Another thing she made sure of, was to be the one in charge and he
radiated control.

She placed her hand in front of him and his smile widened.
“Mr. Giovanni,” she said and when he put his hand in hers she sucked in her
breath. Instantly, her pulse raced and her panties dampened.

“Ms. Skyler, I am honored.” He took her hand and slowly
brought it to his luscious lips, keeping his chocolate eyes on hers.

She mentally had to shake herself because they were standing
in the lobby of her office where many people were working. “Follow me,” she
commanded as she tore her hand from his grip, heading toward her corner office.

Her office was different than the rest of floor with dark
marble covering the floor along with the large desk that sat in the middle of
the room. The walls had wallpaper with a silver elegant design. She waited for
him to enter and closed the door behind him. She had a well-known painting from
Vincent van Gogh hanging behind her desk. It was her pride and joy.

“I was wrong before, this is what suites you.” He slowly
turned to face her and grinned. This man was dangerous, but she wanted him.

“Thank you I pay a lot of money to get what I want,” she
said as she made her way to sit behind her desk, needing distance between them.

“You seem to often get what you want.”

She kept her face blank of emotions because her personal
life was just that … personal. “I thought you were interviewing me, Mr.
Giovanni.”

Smiling, he reached in his pocket to pull out a small
notepad and a pen. “If that is what you want,” he remarked, opening up the
little black note book so he could write something down. “You are only thirty
years old, how did you become so successful?”

Skyler was used to people asking her that. “I knew what I
wanted and went for it with everything I had.”

He stared at her for a second before writing her answer
down. “If you could do one thing differently what would it be?”

Skyler lifted her eyebrows because that wasn’t your typical
interview question. “I wouldn’t do anything differently; everything I have done
was for a reason.” She did miss one thing, but fulfilled it with sex, not love.

Angelo narrowed his eyes. “There is nothing you would change
in your life? An old lover you would want back in your life or maybe a
different career path?”

“What I have is what I always wanted. I knew when I was
younger I wanted to be my own woman and that I didn’t need a man to make me
successful.” She had read articles on her being called heartless, but she
wasn’t … she was cautious.

“Why are you still single?” he asked.

Skyler licked her lips and lifted an eyebrow. “That is
personal, Mr. Giovanni.” His face showed his amusement, except he quickly
covered it up with his hand, rubbing the jaw line thoughtfully.

Closing his notebook, Angelo sat it on her desk and leaned
forward. “I want to kiss you,” he said in a thicker accent than before. It made
her tremor thinking about what that voice could do to her.

He stood up and walked towards her. She didn’t know if she
was going to stop him or rip off her clothes. When he moved around her desk,
she allowed her gaze to follow his every step toward her. Angelo stopped beside
her and she had to tilt her head to match his deep chocolate eyes.

“Stand up,” he ordered. Skyler narrowed her at his show of
dominance.

“Kneel,” she said with a challenge in her voice. She thought
he would laugh at her or demand her to do as he said. She knew when she was
staring at another dominant. Sitting a little taller, she kept her eyes on his,
never wavering.

Slowly, he dropped to one knee in front of her and she
licked her lips knowing what was coming. She didn’t move. Skyler waited for his
lips to capture hers; steadily, he leaned forward and kissed her neck. His
scorching mouth hovered above hers and his eyes seemed to burn though her. She
couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted his lips on hers so she grabbed his tie
and pulled him to her. Their lips molded together and her eyes fluttered
closed. His tongue licked her bottom lip seeking permission. Opening her mouth,
Skyler moaned when his sinful tongue found hers. Her hands traveled up to his
raven black hair and she tangled her fingers to hold him to her.

His arms snaked around to her back and she knew she wanted
him. It had been six months since she had taken a lover to her bed and that was
the longest she had gone since she lost her virginity. He tore his mouth from
her and she groaned.

“I want you,” he said, saying the words she was terrified to
say. “But I won’t take you here in your office.” She frowned at him because
that wasn’t what she wanted to hear, she wanted him naked and inside her.

“You confuse me,” she confessed and he stood up. Her eyes
went to the large bulge in the front of his pants causing her mouth to go dry.

Angelo placed his hand in front of her and she took it. He
smiled down at her illuminating his dimples again. “I am not the type of guy
that fucks someone in an office. I want to take my time with you and I couldn’t
here.” He took the hand he was still holding and placed it on his bulge. “I
want you, but I also want to do this right.”

She narrowed her eyes because what he wanted she didn’t want
to give. “I don’t do relationships, I like to have sex and that is it. My life
is too demanding for anything more than simple sex.”

“Well then I guess I have to woo you,” he murmured, removing
her hand from the front of his pants, bringing it to his lips. When he kissed
her knuckles he kept his chocolate eyes on hers. “Let me treat you to dinner.”

She moved away from him because she couldn’t think straight
when he was touching her. “That sounds like a date.”

“Because I
am
asking you on a date.” He grinned at
her and she felt things she hadn’t in a while. She wanted to wake up in his
arms in the morning; she wanted his handsome face to be the first thing she
saw.

“I don’t know,” Skyler responded hesitantly. Angelo moved
back to her cutting her off, and when he kissed her hard she forgot the reasons
for saying no. When he pulled away she was the one to smile. “Fine. You have
one night so make it worth it.”

He laughed and hugged her tightly. “If you are there then I
know it will be worth it.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a white
business card. “This has my personal cell phone number on it, I will leave the
when up to you.” Quickly, he kissed her cheek, handed her the card and turned
around to walk out the door.

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