Bound Beneath His Pain (Dirty Little Secrets 1)

I stand on my tiptoes, sealing my mouth over his. He needs my touch—I just know it. I need his touch, too. We stop dancing and his hands slide seductively over my face. His hefty erection presses against my stomach and his soft growl weakens my knees. Then I’m no longer controlling the kiss, I’m following, and each slide of his mouth against mine is growing hotter than the one before it.

Sometime later, his slow, deep, and gravelly chuckle slides across my lips, raising goosebumps along my arms before he rests his forehead against mine. “I’m going to do something inappropriate if I don’t let you go.”

I laugh and understand completely. I’m wet and hot in places that shouldn’t be wet and hot with this many people around us, especially because they have camera phones in their hands. “How about drinks on the balcony, then?” I ask.

He steps back, the smolder in his eyes gone just that easily. “I’ll meet you out there.”

My chest feels tight, while I watch him striding away, wondering how he can shut off that quickly. I imagine my cheeks are flushed. It makes me wonder more over the secrets that Micah keeps from me; secrets that I know weigh heavy on his soul. I draw in a long breath, knowing I won’t find those answers tonight, and become more aware of my surroundings now. I hastily move in the opposite direction, passing under the grand crystal chandelier, toward the balcony doors.

Once I clear the doorway, I inhale the night air and exhale the fluttering in my belly, releasing all the heat Micah conjures. I’m not alone out here, so I find an empty spot off to the side of the balcony, and stare out at the same view I saw on my first date with Micah.

Gosh, how much has changed since then.

The relationship with Micah has kinda been a whirlwind, I admit to myself, resting my arms on the balcony, staring up at the twinkling stars. We’ve been up, down, and all over the place. But this relationship is ours, and I wouldn’t change a thing about it.

“You make him happy,” a soft voice beside me says.

I glance sideways, finding a beautiful blond woman, who’s much taller than me. “Pardon?” I ask.

She also rests her arms on the railing, her wineglass dangling over the edge. “Micah seems very happy and comfortable with you.” She offers her perfectly manicured hand with red nail polish on her long fingernails. “I’m Juliet. You’re Allie, right?”

I nod, shaking her hand, wondering if this woman is a past girlfriend of Micah’s, and also how she knows my name. I don’t find ire or jealousy in her eyes, so I don’t get my back up. “Well, he makes me happy, too.”

“How wonderful for the both of you.” Her smile is genuine, and damn, does it ever sparkle with perfect white teeth. “Since you two are out in public together, your relationship must be serious now.”

The second her mouth shuts, I know exactly who she is: a reporter. Why else would she ask such a question or know so much about me? I stare at her and realize the perfect opportunity has presented itself. I could wait for the tabloids to out me to the world. Or I can take control and tell my own story. “Oh, yes, we’re very serious,” I say, feeling damn good to own my life, not fear it. “But I’m sure the better story is that I’m Darius Bennett’s—”

“Darius Bennett?” Juliet cuts me off, eyes slowly widening. “How do you know Darius Bennett?”

I force my lips shut, a sickening feeling swirling in my stomach.

This woman is not a reporter, and I have the distinct feeling that she’s testing me. If I answer right, there’s a secret about Darius she’ll let me in on. “I know him…personally,” is what I decide to say. I watch the way her expression is changing. One second, curious; the next, probing and interested; so I add, “We’re very close.”

Juliet’s brow arches. “Just to be clear. Are we talking about the DC’s Darius Bennett?”

The DC? is hanging on my tongue. But my instincts pipe up, telling me to play along with her line of questioning. She knows things about my half-brother. And I want to know them, too. “Yes, that Darius Bennett,” I lie breezily.

“Interesting,” Juliet comments, then sips her wine, as the light from the patio shows off the slight narrowing of her eyes. “Where did you meet Darius? At his club? Or at Micah’s club, Lace?”

Club? I’m trying desperately to catch up with her. Darius never told me he owned a nightclub. Micah didn’t either. “We met at Darius’s club,” is what I reply. Because I want Juliet to fill in the missing blanks. I want to know who the fuck this woman is to Micah and to my half-brother.

“Hmm…” she mutters, nibbling on her painted red lip. “I wonder why Micah never told me you were with the DC?”

“Well, we all know that Micah isn’t very good at sharing, don’t we?”

Juliet laughs softly. “This is true.”

I don’t hesitate, my instincts telling me to push on. “Were you ever with Darius?”

“Sadly, no, I’ve never had the pleasure of playing with him. But I do hear that he is a very intense and passionate lover.” She turns to fully face me then, raising both brows now. “Is that true?”

I nod, afraid if I open my mouth, I’ll vomit on her. Sex? This is about sex?

Laughter from behind us reminds me that we’re not alone on this patio. I glance over my shoulder, seeing a woman with her hand flirtingly on a young man’s arm. God, who are these people? I’m beginning to feel way out of my element when Juliet asks, “Did Darius introduce you to Micah, then?”

I swallow the bile in my throat. “Yes.”

“I’m surprised a Dominant like Darius wanted to share you, considering Micah’s so enamored with you.” She winks, examining me harder now. “You must be quite a lovely submissive, Allie.”