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Authors: Missy Johnson

Scandalous

BOOK: Scandalous
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Scandalous

By

Missy Johnson

Prologue

2007

Her laughter rings through my ears and I smile.

“Daddy!” she giggles, clapping her hands. “Take me down the slide.” Her pale blond hair bounces in the wind as she jumps up and down, her porcelain skin completely covered by a jacket and thick pink mittens to protect her from the cold. I glance down at my own tanned skin and grin. She is the complete opposite of me and the mirror of her mother in so many ways.

“Daddy,” she says, stomping her feet, angry at the lack of attention she’s receiving. I laugh.
Yep, the same fiery attitude as her mother.

I can’t say no to her. Hell, I’ve never been able to deny her anything she wanted and she damn well knows it. She squeals as I wrap my arms around her, holding her against my chest as I climb the narrow steps of the rickety old slide. I position her on my lap, kissing her cheek as we both roll down the slide. Anna laughs as we tumble to the ground in a heap.

“Again!” she demands, jumping to her feet.

I laugh and stand up, pushing the snow off my jeans. “You want to go again?” I tease.

She nods, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“Okay.” I shrug. This time I pick her up using only one arm and tuck her to my side. At the top of the ladder, I lie back onto the tube of the slide, head first, with Anna in my arms.

“Daddy!” She giggles as I push off, sending us flying toward the ground. Marisa races over, pulling Anna onto her lap while scowling at me.

“Are you stupid, Roman? You could’ve hurt her!”

“She’s fine.” I grin, reaching over to ruffle Anna’s hair. She laughs and ducks away. Marisa rolls her eyes and picks our baby up, fussing over her as I struggle to my feet. “How did your meeting go?”

“What?” Marisa snaps. “Oh. That. Fine.”

Her demeanor is cold and unwelcoming, but that’s usual for Marisa. Our marriage lacked many things that any strong relationship should have: passion, understanding…commitment. The only reason we were both still in this was because of our daughter. Without her, we would’ve gone our separate ways years ago and we both knew that.

I roll my eyes and follow them back over to the park bench where I left our things as Marisa gives me another lecture about leaving the stroller unattended. I tune out, like I always do. I learned very early on in our relationship that things are much better if I keep my opinions to myself. Always let her win. That’s the key to any successful relationship, right?

 

We arrive back home. Marisa is still annoyed, but she’s moved onto something else. This time it’s my lack of work done around the house. Never mind the eighty-hour weeks I put in at work to give her the lifestyle she demands.

“I’ll fix it later, okay? Just let me spend some time with Anna before she goes to sleep,” I sigh, scooping Anna into my arms, wishing Marisa would go off on another shopping trip with her friends, or a spa appointment. They’re usually things she considered more important than her family.

“You spoil her,” Marisa says, her expression darkening. My jaw clenches at her accusing tone. “She’s going to be too wound up to sleep if you keep this up.”

“For Christ’s sake, Marisa. She’s asleep when I leave for work and in bed when I get home. The weekends are the only time I have with her,” I snap.

Anna whimpers in my arms. I gently rock her, kissing her on the forehead.

“And it’s my fault you work so damn much?”

I bite my tongue, so desperately wanting to say ‘yes, it
is
your fault.’ Instead, I storm off, Anna still in my arms as Marisa mumbles obscenities at me under her breath.

 

They say things get worse before they get better, but in our case, there was no better. As the months dragged on, things spiraled downward as our arguments increased. Neither of us were happy until we decided to separate.

It took her all of three weeks to invite her boyfriend into our home, which made me wonder if she was seeing him while we were together. Not that I could talk. I’d been sleeping with her best friend for the best part of the last year.

On the fourteenth of July, my life changed forever.

If only I knew that this was the last time I’d see my daughter. If only I knew what Marisa had been meticulously planning for the past year, down to the very last detail.

My life was about to implode and I had no idea. What makes things worse is there was nothing—fucking nothing—I could do to stop it.

Chapter One

Roman

She had my eyes.

Sighing, I lie back on the sofa and stare at the ceiling, wishing I could just go to sleep and not wake up. The photo falls from my fingers and onto the floor. I glance down, desperate to see her smiling face one more time. My breath reeks of top quality scotch, but the alcohol has done nothing to curb my thinking. If anything, it’s made me more anxious.

I’m a mess, but it’s with good reason.

I close my eyes and picture her face, laughing, those big blue eyes full of wonder and excitement. She trusted me to look after her, and I failed. She was the most important person in my life and I let her down. For that, I don’t deserve happiness. I don’t deserve to move on with my life.

I’m always a mess around this time of year. Most of the time I can force myself not to think about it, pretend that part of my life never happened, but everything unravels when February hits, because no amount of trying can take away the pain of losing her, or the fact that I’m to blame.

Rolling over, I fumble beneath me for the half-empty bottle of scotch I know is there somewhere. When my fingers curl around the thick glass, my heart begins to beat faster at the thought of another taste. I lift the bottle to my lips. It’s not as heavy as I remember. I soon realize why: it’s empty, bar a few tiny drops that spill onto my tongue.

Angry, I hurl the bottle across the room, wincing as it hits the far wall, shattering into a million tiny pieces.
Just like my heart
. My head spins as I sit up. Somehow I stumble over to my desk, falling into my chair. I lift the receiver on my phone and press Scarlett’s extension.

“Bring me another bottle of scotch,” I demand when she answers.

“Roman, you’ve already had two bottles,” she replies, her tone nervous.

“And I’ll be having a third.”

I slam down the receiver and cradle my head in my hands. I just want this all to stop. The guilt, the pain, I want it all to go away. I can’t let Beth see me like this. That would lead to questions I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to answer. No, it’s just easier for me to stay away from her until this passes.

She thinks I’m at a conference in Vegas for work. I laugh, because I haven’t left my fucking office in days. I’m still wearing the same clothing I was three days ago. It’s getting to the point where even I can’t ignore the stench of alcohol, sweat, and stale cigarettes. Apparently I smoke when I’m depressed.

Scarlett knocks gently on my door. I mumble something that passes as a greeting as she tentatively walks inside, closing the door behind her. My eyes fall on the bottle in her hands and I begin to relax, just a little.
I just need to get through the next few days and then I’ll be fine.

“What’s wrong with you, Roman?” she asks, setting the bottle in front of me. She parks herself on the edge of my desk, a concerned look on her face as she hitches one leg over the other, exposing her bare thighs. She’s much closer to me than I’m comfortable with. “Did you and Beth have a fight?”

I laugh. She’d love that, wouldn’t she? Beth and I breaking up would make her day. She thinks I don’t know she’s wanted me since she started here? She couldn’t make it more fucking obvious if she tried. It’s pathetic.

“No, Beth and I are fine,” I mutter, not taking my eyes off my desk. “I’m just having a rough day.”

“A rough few days by the looks of it,” she retorts, eying me. “And you think two bottles of scotch is going to fix it?”

“Three,” I correct her, snatching the bottle from the desk. Unscrewing the lid, I take a swig, relishing the taste of the liquid in my mouth. “And I’m willing to try anything at this point.”

Scarlett’s gaze falls quickly as her lips tug into a smile. I freeze at the feel of her hand moving up my thigh.

She leans closer to me, her lips brushing over my ear. “I can make you forget,” she whispers.

For a brief second, my body responds to her voice. Somehow, through my clouded judgment I remember the hundreds of reasons why doing anything with Scarlett would be a bad idea. We’d had some fun in the past, but it that’s all it was. Fun. And it was never when I was seeing anyone. I close my hand over hers and firmly relocate it back to her own leg. I might be severely intoxicated right now, but nothing is going to tempt me into going down that road.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m good.” I smirk as her green eyes cloud with annoyance. “You can go now. Close the door on your way out, please.”

**

My eyes flitter open. I lift my head off my desk, cracking it back into place. Fuck, I feel like shit. I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror and realize I look even worse
.

Fumbling for my phone to check the time, I see a few missed calls from Beth. Fuck. I’m supposed to be on my way home by now. My heart pounds as I struggle to think of a solution to this mess, because telling her the truth is not an option.

Me: Sorry, flight got delayed. Staying here another night, will see you tomorrow. Love you.

She replies almost instantly.

Beth: I was worried. Be safe and love you xx

The guilt coursing through me makes me feel sick. I’m wallowing in self-pity and she’s at home probably thinking I’ve been in an accident or something. I push my chair back and gingerly stand up. My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten anything in days.

Enough of this shit—you’ve got about twelve hours to get yourself back on track.

I contemplate going out for some food, but I don’t trust myself to be under the legal limit to drive. With the amount I’ve drunk over the last forty-eight hours, I should be in a coma. In the end I call and order a pizza from a local twenty-four hour fast food place. Not the best food in the world, but at three in the morning I can’t be picky.

The pizza arrives in twenty minutes as promised. I meet the guy at the side door with a handful of cash, thankful that I don’t have to walk through the club from my office to get outside. I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone right now.

I carry the box back to the safety of my office and lock the door. Flicking open the lid I feel my mouth begin to water as the smell of pepperoni and sausage wafts out. I shove a slice into my mouth, barely chewing before I swallow and stuff another slice in. The whole thing is gone in less than five minutes. Full, I flop down in my chair and sigh, not sure if I feel better or worse.

Still tired, I set myself up on the armchair in the corner of my office and put on the TV. I half listen to a rerun of
Hawaii Five-0
as I close my eyes and try to sleep. I can’t turn my mind off. All I can think about is all the people I’ve let down and how they would be better off without me. And as much as I don’t want to, I can feel myself pulling away from Beth for fear of hurting her. She’s been through so much. If there’s any chance of hurting her, surely I owe it to her to walk away? The problem is I’m not sure I can. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to do the right thing by her.

And that scares the hell out of me.

 

 

Chapter Two

Roman

“Fuck,” I hiss as my toe makes contact with the hallway wall. Reaching down, I close my fingers around it, the pressure doing something to ease the throbbing. Now, if only I could ease the throbbing in my head.

I’d left work as soon as the club had closed up, deciding that six in the morning was an appropriate time for my flight to have been delayed. On the drive back home it occurred to me that she might’ve checked the flight schedule, but there’s nothing I can do about it if she did—except dig myself deeper into my lies.

“Are you okay?”

I turn around just as Beth flicks on the lights. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the sight of her standing there in only a T-shirt, her blond hair a sexy mess, her deep blue eyes fixated on me. My cock doesn’t appreciate that this is not the time for a raging erection and begins to throb.

“I’m fine. Stubbed my toe,” I mumble, still grasping my foot.

“Here, let me look.”

Before I can respond, she’s on her knees in front of me, inspecting my toe. The sight of her like that…I can’t help it. I’m hard as fuck. Obviously all that alcohol did nothing to stem my sexual drive.

“How much have you had to drink?” she asks suspiciously.

“Too much. Why? Are you afraid you’ll take advantage of me in my inebriated state?” I tease, my fingers stroking her messy hair.

She laughs and whacks my arm. “Hardly. Like you need any encouragement,” she fires back, eying my erection.

I grin and stumble into the living room, falling down into the armchair closest to me. I pull her into my lap. I groan as she presses herself against my groin, my fingers grazing over the soft skin of her bare thighs.

“Hey,” she giggles, swatting my arms as I try and peel the T-shirt off her. In the end she gives up, not objecting as I lift it over her head, exposing her small, round breasts.

“Much better,” I murmur, rolling my fingers over her hard nipples.

She adjusts herself so she’s straddling me, her naked body pressing against mine. She’s so fucking perfect. My hands creep down over her narrow waist, resting at the tip of her entrance. She breathes in sharply as I plunge my fingers deep inside her wetness.

She leans down, kissing me on the mouth, her back arching as I explore her.
I could sit here doing this all fucking day.
My cock throbs, begging to be freed, desperate to be buried inside of her. With her wrapped in my arms, I stand up and move us into the kitchen, laying her on the counter. She gasps as my hands push her legs apart, my cock ready and aching to enter her. I thrust inside her, my hands moving over her naked body to her breasts as my cock glides deeper inside her wet pussy. She wraps her legs around my waist, encouraging me to pusher harder. I do, gripping onto her hips as her body rocks against mine. I can feel she is close, and so am I. I slide a finger inside her pussy, rubbing in circles as she cries out. The sound of her orgasm is enough for me to climax, releasing inside her.

I pull out and lean over and kiss her stomach, making my way up to her mouth. She pants, out of breath as I scoop her into my arms and press my mouth against hers. Her skin is warm to the touch, her cheeks glowing red as her bright eyes smile back at me. I kiss her again, unable to express in words just how much I love this woman.

**

Beth rolls onto her side, her eyes narrowed as she studies me.

I raise my eyebrow and wait for her to say whatever it is on her mind. It’s after nine in the morning, and we are both relaxing after our post-sex shower turned into more sex. I couldn’t help myself. The sight of her all wet and soaped up had me hard again in seconds. She wets her lips, a small smile playing on them as she begins to speak.

“You know, the amount of time you spend at work, I feel like I should see it.”

I snort and turn to face her, surprised by her comment. Up until now, she’s shown very little interest in my work. “You want to go to the club?”

She flushes and then nods, her eyes determined. “I’m your girlfriend. It feels weird that you own this…establishment and I’ve never been there.”

I laugh, wondering how much of this is her wanting to be supportive and how much is her curiosity about the club. I’d been open about what goes on in there, but you can never really know until you’ve been there to experience it.

“If you really want to go, we will then we will go.” I grin. To be honest, the thought of sharing that side of me with her is an incredible turn-on. Focusing on Beth and us is just what I need right now, and a great way for me to escape the memories haunting my mind. “How about tomorrow?”

“Really?” she squeals, wrapping her arms around me.

I laugh and kiss her, pulling her on top of me. “Sure. It’ll be fun.”

I smile as she snuggles into my arms. My head still throbs from my three-day binge when I remember Scarlett. One tiny slip and Beth would know I’d lied to her. I can’t help but wonder whether taking her to the club is going to come back and bite me in the ass.

BOOK: Scandalous
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