Secrets Behind Those Eyes (25 page)

I smile to myself and then knock on the
heavy, dark wood door. “Daddy?” I call.

“Come in.”

I enter the room and it’s a scene I’ve seen
many times in my life. My dad, in his suit, sitting behind his
imposing wooden desk. The top of the desk is littered with
paperwork, his laptop sits open and off to the side. His high-back,
super comfy office chair peeks out from above his shoulders and the
room smells like citrus and…cigar smoke?

I narrow my eyes at him and plant my hands
on my hips. “Daddy, have you been smoking in here?”

He doesn’t answer, which means the answer is
‘yes’.

“Daddy, you know you’re not supposed to
smoke. The doctor said you need to stop.”

“It’s all a bunch of
bullshit,” he scoffs at me. “I’ve been dabbling in the occasional
cigar since I was old enough to hold one. I didn’t end up with lung
cancer, did I? No, I ended up with fucking
bowel
cancer!” He booms at me. Most
people shrink into a corner when my dad starts yelling, but not me.
I won’t take his fucking shit!

“I don’t care what sort of
cancer it is – that’s not the point. The point is, you have it, and
smoking cigars and drinking whiskey like it’s water, is
not
going to help you.
I’m telling you now, you need to stop it,” I shout back at him.
“You’re all I have. I don’t want you to die,” I admit, my voice
softening and wavering as tears threaten.

He rises out of his chair
and rounds the desk before wrapping me in his arms. “Now, you
listen and you listen good, sweetheart. I will not let this bastard
disease take me from you. It’s a pain in my ass and that’s about
it. I’m stronger than fucking
cancer
, do you hear me?”

‘Yes,” I whisper. “But, I’m scared.”

“I know you are. I’ll lay off the cigars and
whiskey,” he relents.

“Thank you,” I smile up at him. He looks
down at me like I’m his whole world. His eyes shine with love and
his face lights up with a beautiful smile that I don’t get to
witness nearly often enough.

“Right, go on now, I’ve got work to do. If
you see Beau on your way here, send him in.”

My heart stutters at the mention of Beau,
but not wanting to give anything away, I simply nod.

“Love you, daddy. Night.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

Not wanting to risk bumping into Beau in the
corridor, I quickly make my way to my room and close the door
behind me. Leaning up against the wall, I sigh. I’m twenty-three,
it’s Friday night, and I’m at home in yoga pants. What’s wrong with
this situation?

Pushing off the wall, I walk into my closet
and choose a fitted, sexy black dress. I love this dress. It hugs
all the right places and gives me curves where I need them.
Choosing a sexy dark purple lace bra and thong set, I set
everything out and go to my shoe wall. I chew my bottom lip as I
browse the rows of stilettos in front of me. Finally, I settle on a
pair of fire-engine red, patent leather, peep-toe pumps. I pick up
my phone and dial Calista, my best friend.

“Hey! I was just going to call you,” she
shouts into the phone.

“Hey, yourself. Why were you going to call
me? And, where are you?” I can barely hear her over the background
noise.

“I’m at Rowdy J’s, that new nightclub that’s
being advertised everywhere. It’s the opening night, you should
come down. Drinks are half price all night and they’ve got a band
playing that sounds pretty good.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll be there within the
hour.”

She squeals. “Text me when you get here,
I’ll meet you out front.”

I press end and quickly get dressed into my
dress, then I spend about forty minutes doing my hair and makeup. I
blow-dry my hair, leaving it loose and looking slightly windswept
and just-out-bed messy. I go with sexy and smoky for my eyes and I
chose a red lip gloss to match my shoes. Taking a small red clutch
from my purse hanger and fill it with my i.d, some cash, my credit
card, my phone, my lip gloss and a stick of gum. Time to go.

I make my way quickly down
the stairs and through the maze of hallways before I come to the
front entrance. It really is grandiose. It’s all shiny marble
floors and crystal chandeliers. Off to my right is the formal
living and dining room – my father uses them simply to entertain
business associates. While this area of the house is beautiful, it
doesn’t have the homey feel that the rest of the house does. My
father has always been very strict when it comes to keeping certain
aspects of his life separate. His main rule has always been no one
other than family is ever allowed on the second and third floors of
the house. That’s our home and they’re not welcome up there
–
ever.

Once I step off the carpeted stairs, my
heels clack across the marble as I make my way out.

“
What the fuck?” His voice
almost causes me to stumble, but I keep walking, pretending I
didn’t hear a thing.

I pull down the gold colored handle on our
elaborate mahogany wood door and step outside.

“
Miss Harlow,” our driver,
Pierre, nods his greeting to me as I descend the six stairs and
make my way toward him.

“
Hi, Pierre,” I smile as I
slide into the leather seats. Closing the door, he rounds the hood
and starts the Bentley. Just as we’re pulling away from the house,
I look through the dark tinted, bullet-proof windows, and see Beau
burst out the front door. I see him scowl at the car and then we
round the trees surrounding the drive and I can see him no
longer.

Well, fuck him. He’s got no right to be
pissed.

Fuck. Him.

**

Almost an hour later, Pierre pulls the car
to the front of Rowdy J’s and opens my door. I sent Calista a text
about ten minutes ago, so she should be out here waiting for me.
People line the sidewalk, all waiting for a chance to get inside on
opening night. I walk up past the red velvet rope, to a security
manning the door.

“
Back of the line, ma’am,”
he orders, boredom evident in his tone.

“
Oh, stop it, Jelly,”
Calista scolds, walking up behind him and smacking him on the top
of the arm.

“
Thought I told you not to
call me that in public,” he says through clenched teeth.

“
Sorry,” she rolls her
eyes. “She’s with me, Rocco.”

“
When I’m working, you
call me Trigger. We talked about this, Calista.”

“
Okay, okay.”

“
Go through,” he sighs,
opening the rope for me to walk inside.

“
Who
is
that?” I ask, looking back over
my shoulder. The guy is gorgeous! Tall – really tall, and built
like God. Wide shoulders underneath his crisp black suit, wide
forehead with a strong, chiseled jaw and full lips. Brown eyes with
flecks of gold, making them appear warm.

“
Oh,” she shakes her hand,
dismissively and sips her drink. “That’s Rocco, he lived next door
when I was growing up. He’s my brother’s best friend.”

“
Cool.” I link my arm
through hers and we walk into the bar. The music is pumping and the
place is packed. Looking around, the bar area surrounds three
walls, similar to a U shape. In the center, there’s a range of
different tables – high, low, small, large – and people are filling
them all. There are lounge chairs as well, and the main color theme
is white, red and black. The floor is shiny black, the table tops
are white, and the chairs are red. Crystal chandeliers and
illuminated lanterns are scattered around the ceiling.

“
Our table is this way,”
Calista says, pointing left. I follow her through the crowd and
into a smaller, more exclusive room. There are only about thirty
people spaced throughout the room. It’s decorated the same as the
other room, except all the chairs are lounges and the tables are
low, like coffee tables.

We each take a seat and Calista waves the
waiter over to us. Calista is the daughter of a New York senator
and a doctor. While she grew up living a sheltered, spoiled life –
much like me – she’s nothing like you would expect. She’s fun,
funny, beautiful, caring, loud, obnoxious (sometimes) and most
importantly, she’s loyal. Tonight she’s all dolled up in a tight,
dark blue bandage dress with a V so deep down the middle her small
boobs are nearly busting out. Her blonde hair is curled loosely and
she’s got the attention of almost every guy in the room.

“
Two Cosmopolitans,
please,” she orders our regulars. The waiter walks off and she
turns to me. “You look
hot!
”

“
Thanks,” I laugh. “So do
you. How did you find out about this place?”

“
Jelly’s friend is the
owner and he sent me a VIP pass. I’m so glad you could come out
tonight. I’ve missed you, and we haven’t had nearly enough time
together since you got back.”

“
I know. I’ve missed you,
too. I guess I’ve just been preoccupied with Dad.”
And Beau
.

“
Speaking of, how is your
dad?”

“
He’s doing okay, I think.
Cancer is in an inconvenience to him, you know?” I shake my head
and roll my eyes.

“
Yeah, if anyone could
treat cancer like a pain in his ass, it would be your dad,” she
agrees, knowing how my dad is. Waving to the waiter again, she
orders us two tequila shots each, with lime.

“
We need to catch up
properly. We could do brunch tomorrow? Shopping, pedicure? You can
fill me in on what’s been happening between you and Beau since you
got back,” she grins and winks.

I scoff. “Nothing is going on between me and
Beau Diesel.” I throw back both my shots in quick succession,
before sucking the life out of the wedge of lime.

She looks at me and like only a best friend
can, she sees straight through my bullshit.

“
We’ll talk about that
tomorrow,” she gives me a pointed look. “Right now, you need to
drink up, Princess, because I want to dance.”

I throw back the rest of my drink and we
walk out onto the floor. The VIP dancing area is much more intimate
than the main dance floor, it’s a smaller space, but there are less
people, so it’s not so bad. We find a place and begin to sway our
hips to the music. I get lost in the words, my hands travel up and
down my sides as my body moves. My eyes are closed and my whole
body is relaxed as I let the rhythm overtake me.

We’ve been dancing for
about four songs, when I feel a pair of hands on my hips. I open my
eyes and see Calista not far from me, with her tongue down some
guy’s throat. I relax back into the guy behind me and begin to move
against him. I can feel his erection digging into my ass, and I
decide to break away from him. I stop moving and attempt to walk
out of his grasp, but his fingers dig into my hips and pull me back
against him. That’s when a waft of his scent hits my nostrils –
cologne mixed with the natural earthy scent of a man and a hint of
sweat.
Beau fucking Diesel.
I turn abruptly in his arms and scowl.

“
What the fuck are you
doing here?” I snap.

He smirks, which makes him looks hotter, and
that makes me madder.

“
Get lost, Beau.” I turn
and try to walk away, but he loops an arm around my waist and pulls
me towards a small corridor. Entering the first door, he closes it
behind him and presses me firmly into the wall. It’s dark, so I
don’t know what kind of room we’re in – an office, maybe? A storage
room?

“
Had a hard on since I saw
you leave the house wearing this fucking dress.” His lips hit mine
and I kiss back with as much passion as he’s giving. My arms leave
my side to thread through his hair, pulling him closer to me. He
grinds his pelvis against me, and I whimper.

“
Beau,” I whimper, as he
lifts my leg to rest around his hips. Tracing his hand up the
inside of my thigh, his fingers find my barely-there lace
thong.

“
Fuck me,” he growls.
Then, he tears my thong in two. I gasp and my eyes widen when he
tucks the material into his pocket. I hear his breath hiss as his
fingers find my wetness.

“
Always so fucking wet for
me, Duchess.”

My back arches and I moan, long and deep, as
he begins to pump his fingers in and out of me.

“
Please,” I beg,
desperately needing his cock inside me, because I’m stupid like
that. I’m a glutton for punishment. His fingers leave me and his
cock fills me in one smooth motion.

“
Yes,” I cry out as he
takes me roughly.

“
You’re like a fucking
drug….can’t get enough,” Beau chants as he thrusts into me
furiously.

My body tightens around him and I bite down
on his shoulder as my orgasm erupts through my body. His thrusts
quicken and then he stills. He groans, and I feel his cock begin to
throb as he empties himself inside me.

Knowing the moment will end, I kiss him.
Slow and lazy. My tongue tangles with his and I sigh when he pulls
back.

“
FUCK!”
He explodes. I jump when his fist slams into the
wall beside me. Then he opens the door and stalks out of the room,
leaving me feeling confused, but not at all surprised.

I fix my dress and comb my fingers through
my hair. Then, I make my way back out to the dance floor,
pretending nothing is wrong, when really, I’m dying inside.

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