Tied to His Betrayal (Dirty Little Secrets 2)

“Then what is it?” she presses.

“He’s helping me sort all my shit out, that’s all.” And giving me orgasms in the process.

“Okay, good, we had that conversation and now we can move on.” She gives a huge sigh of relief and smiles as she rises to her feet. “Wanna go for dinner tonight?”

“I’d love to.”

“Okay, I’ll pick you up at six.”

“Sounds good.”

She blows me a kiss before leaving my office and leaving me alone.

The longer I’m staring down at the magazine, the more my chest is tightening. I don’t like not knowing what Allie knows about Darius, but I also don’t like that Darius is dating someone else when he touched me the other night.

I sigh, knowing I have to stop this. I refuse to go back into that damn cycle of being with men who don’t treat me as well as they should. I refuse to stay silent anymore and I leave my office, hurrying down the hallway, passing by the oddly empty reception desk until I reach Darius’s secretary, Charlotte. She’s a cute twentysomething girl with great fashion sense and a serious way about her. I’ve seen her three times today and never once saw a smile. “Is Mr. Bennett in?” I ask when I reach her desk.

Charlotte nods and lifts her phone to her ear. “Taylor Erickson is…yes, okay, sir.” She hangs up the phone. “You can go in.” Then she rises and grabs her purse from the drawer.

Only then do I realize—by the clock on her phone—that it’s the end of the workday, which I guess explains the missing receptionist and lack of clients.

I watch as Charlotte leaves for the day before I enter Darius’s large corner office with big windows that start halfway up the wall. Even if the view of the skyscrapers is mind-blowing, nothing can compare to seeing Darius behind his cherrywood desk.

Power, strength, sexiness…holy shit…he is so damn hot, it’s really not fair to other men.

I stop in front of the wingback leather chairs. “Wanna explain this?” I can’t hold back the bite in my voice.

“Explain what?” He lifts his head, squints his eyes at the magazine cover and then looks back at the papers on his desk. “That is the paparazzi leaving you alone.”

I blink. “Wait. You did this for me?”

Eyes on the papers before him, the side of his mouth curves. “Alex works for a close friend of mine. She’s agreed to keep this charade going for a month or so, until the heat is off you and the tabloids focus their attention elsewhere.”

I don’t even know what to say. I came to lay him out for being a player. Yet again, I’m reminded of how utterly kind he is. “You’re kinda wonderful, you know that, right?”

His eyes lift to mine, and I see the shadows of pain there. He doesn’t believe me. “I do this to protect you, Taylor,” he says, voice hard. “I’m not a hero.”

I’ll never know if Darius truly can’t see the good he does or if he simply thinks it’s weakness to feel emotions, but I can speak his language. “Well, I disagree with you,” I say to him, turning around and locking the door. “Most people wouldn’t protect me like you do.” I take a step toward him.

“What are you doing?” he asks, statue-still.

“I’m going to thank you properly.” I stalk toward him, not caring that it’s the end of the day and even if some people have gone home, some employees still remain. No one would dare knock on Darius’s door if it were shut, and to the point, locked. I know that because I know him, and that would annoy him greatly.

“Stop right where you are.” His jaw clenches, once, twice, three times. “Do not come any closer.”

I see the fire burning in his eyes. The heat there, and how this strong guy is hanging on to his very last strands of control. “You’re going to let me do something nice for you,” I tell him adamantly. “Because all you’ve been doing are very nice things for me.”

“No.” He lurches to his feet.

His harsh command doesn’t stop me. I need to do this for him. I settle next to him at the desk, and I see the intensity in his expression. “Why are you being so good to me?” I ask him gently.

“Because I have to,” he replies.

A simple answer, but I know the meaning runs so much deeper than that. I know he helps me because it’s what he’s always done, always been there for me. I see the confliction on his face, but I know exactly how to erase it. I reach for his belt, taking the leather out of the loop. “I need this, Darius. Let me touch you.”

“I…” He grits his teeth, eyes blazing red-hot. “…I’m finding it tremendously hard to stop you.”

“Then don’t.” I have his belt open and the button of his slacks undone when I see his arm move, then notice the blinds of the window behind his desk closing. His eyes are so fiercely on me that I’m feeling the heat burn through me as I lower to my knees, taking down his pants and boxer briefs with me. Then all I see is his erect cock at my eye level, and he’s just as perfect as I remember.