Bound Beneath His Pain: A Dirty Little Secrets Novel (11 page)

Shortly before seven at night, I enter
The Vault
, exhausted to my bones. Micah still weighs heavy on my mind, but I’m too damn tired to even begin to figure it all out and I have something else to deal with now. I step farther into the restaurant, past the greeter. “It’s okay,” I tell her, as her lips part to welcome me. “I’m meeting someone who’s already here.”

“Enjoy your dinner.” She smiles.

“Thanks.” I run my fingers through my hair, damp from the rain, moving past the round tables draped with white linens. I don’t love the reminder that the last time I’d been here was with Micah. Like I need more reminders of
him.

Near the back of the restaurant, not far from the table where I’d met with the Lowes, I find Darius. His almond-shaped eyes meet mine, and for a split second they warm with his slight smile. It’s a tender, totally unguarded smile that he reserves for only two people: Taylor and me. Yet as he rises, I notice the tenseness of his movement.

I can’t really blame Darius for having a hard exterior. I had what he didn’t—our mother. When mom left her first husband, taking Darius with her, her ex-husband hired a dream team of lawyers to charge her as an abusive mother. They said she’d abducted Darius, but of course she hadn’t. Regardless of the truth, the evidence was stacked against her—witnesses, and lies; everything had been paid for with his millions, and he won custody of their son. But her ex-husband didn’t win because he loved Darius. He won to punish our mother by keeping them apart. That’s the type of guy Darius had grown up with.

Then, to make matters worse, when Darius’s father heard of his plans to raise me after my parents passed away, his father gave Darius a choice: me or his inheritance. Darius, for reasons totally unknown, picked me. Nothing in his life had been easy. So his distance and coldness masked a sweet guy who’d done so much for me. Sometimes I think his hard shell is a layer of protection, because if he ever let himself
feel,
it would overcome him.

“Allison,” he says, standing until I lower to my seat, then he takes his. “I ordered your favorite.”

I tuck my chair closer to the table, noting that he’s perfectly put together, as always. Sharp, tailored gray suit, stylish brown hair, some stubble on his face; my brother looks more like an American athlete than a billionaire. I see a lot of my mom in his eyes; they share the same warm chocolate brown color. “No wonder you’re single,” I reply to his statement, reaching for the glass of white wine in front of me on the table. “Don’t you know women hate when you order for them?”

Darius arches a brow at the dig, yet ignores me. “How was your day?”

“Long and exhausting.” I take a big gulp of my wine, delighting in the woodsy hints. “But nothing that a few glasses of wine can’t fix.”

My brother is sitting unusually still when I lower the glass to the table.

I blink once…twice…

Then he addresses me. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

“Not particularly.” I fold my arms against the white linen, hearing the soft conversations going on around me. “But I’m guessing you’re going to tell me what I should be telling you and why we’re meeting tonight instead of tomorrow.” After I left home, Darius made it a rule for us to have Sunday dinners together. I’m not sure if his motive is to check in on me or if he likes spending time with me, but he’s the only family I’ve got, and I like being around him, so the rest is semantics.

He finally shakes his head in frustration. “I heard Holt has purchased Richardson.”

“Oh,
that.
” I play with the stem of my wineglass and half shrug. “Well, it’s not breaking news or anything that I’ve moved over to Holt. How did you find out?”

“I was there today for business and saw you in a meeting room.”

I stiffen in my seat, worrying that maybe Darius told Micah that I’m his half-sister. Darius knows I like to keep our connection quiet, especially in the professional world, so I don’t need to remind him of that, I’m sure. “Oh, yeah, how did your business go?”

“It went fine,” Darius replies.

I watch him a moment, wondering now if maybe this dinner is happening because Micah told him about us. The thought infuriates me. But as Darius says, “Holt’s the perfect place for you,” I realize not only did Darius not tell Micah about our association, but Micah must not have mentioned our affair either.

A part of me knows that I should’ve told Micah that I’m Darius’s half-sister, considering they do business together. The other part thinks telling Darius about Micah is none of his business. The only time I can ever recall Darius discussing my love life with me was when I dated a boy in high school for a few years.
You need to be safe, Allison. Do you want me to go to the doctor with you?
Not a conversation you want to have with your older brother.

As a seventeen-year-old girl, I replied to my twenty-seven-year-old brother,
Ew! God, no! I have Taylor and her mom for that stuff. Gross, Darius.
And that was our birds and bees talk, which never happened again after that day. Thankfully, I still had my mom to buy my first bra, teach me how to shave my legs, and discuss choosing feminine products. I can only imagine how that would’ve gone for Darius. Not that I blame him; he was only a young man when he took me in, after all.

Besides, the way I see it, unless Micah and I were serious, there’s no need for Darius to know. And we are the direct opposite of serious, so yeah, totally none of Darius’s business.

I take another sip of my wine as Darius adds, “You’ll do well at Holt and benefit from the advantages of working for a large company. I understand there’s lots of opportunity to move up the corporate ladder.”

I glance down, avoiding him to hide my disappointment. I can always count on Darius to look at my life in the business sense. That’s what I miss most about having my mother. Those special
talks.
Darius, though, lived and breathed business growing up. Hell, he tried his best to remove me from public school to send me to some fancy, all-girls private boarding school, which I adamantly refused.

At the time, I thought he wanted to get rid of me. Now I think it’s because that’s how he grew up and he didn’t know any different. Luckily, when I refused, he backed down.

Emotions back under control, I lift my head and talk his language. “It’s an impressive company, for sure.” The CEO is even more impressive, as well as complicated and infuriating, considering I shouldn’t be thinking about him, but somehow can’t stop.

Darius nods in agreement and taps his fingers against the table. “You’ll do well under Micah’s guidance.”

I burst out laughing. I’d done very well under Micah’s guidance.

Darius frowns, and I quickly wave him off, shaking my head. “Forget it. It’s nothing. And yes, Holt’s a step up for me. It’s exciting.”

The waitress comes over to the table then, and I notice Darius had ordered me steak. My brother might not emotionally be there for me, but he takes care of me in his own way. Steak is my favorite, and he knows that.

When the waitress leaves the table after placing our dinners in front of us, I pick up my fork and knife as Darius asks, “How are your finances?”

I cut the meat and sigh, looking at him. “That’s a weird question. You know this, right?”

Darius places his napkin on his lap before he arches a brow at me. “It’s a valid question, given that I’m your guardian, of sorts. I want to be sure you’re doing okay.”

That’s the problem. My
okay
and
Darius’s
are worlds apart. I’m happy with two hundred dollars in my back account. In Darius’s world, I’m barely scraping by on pocket change. “My finances are fine. You don’t need to worry.” And in my world, we don’t care about these things and ask personal questions like that. But in Darius’s world, money and smart business are his biggest thoughts of the day.

He sticks his fork into the stir-fry he ordered and gives me a level look. “I found out today that you still haven’t touched any of the money I gave you.”

I chew my steak, buying myself some time to answer him, since I know I won’t ever touch the bank account he set up for me. The money is tainted, as far as I’m concerned, reminding me of the past and a life that I never asked for or wanted. But I can’t hurt Darius by telling him that. He’s doing what he thinks is right by me, because that’s all he knows. I swallow and narrow my eyes on him. “How do you know I haven’t spent any of the money?”

“Because my accountant told me.” He lowers his fork to his plate, and his eyes soften. “Allison”—Darius is the only one who doesn’t call me by my nickname and I’ve always wondered if that’s some messed-up way to keep me at a distance—“you don’t need to do this all on your own. Your mother would have wanted you to live a good life. Let me help take care of you.”

God, my stomach rolls at how he says
your mother.
It’s damn sad he doesn’t call her
our mother,
which is what she would have wanted. “I live a fantastic life on the salary I make,” I correct him.

Darius snorts. “You could live a much better life.”

One lesson I learned very early on from my mother was that money doesn’t make you happy; it’s the priceless things that create lasting memories. “Mom would’ve wanted you to be happy, too,” I fire back.

Darius freezes halfway from placing a piece of broccoli into his mouth and slowly lowers his fork to his plate. “Who says I’m not happy?”

I raise my eyebrows in answer.

He looks down at his plate, and a few seconds pass before he finally answers me. “I don’t need to discuss my life with my little sister.”

“I don’t need to discuss my life with my older brother.” When his hard eyes lift to mine, I smile to ease the tension. “Regardless of how wonderful he is and how grateful I am for all he’s done for me.”

Darius finishes off his broccoli and sighs heavily. “Smart-ass—although, I’ve got to hand it to you, you can insult me and make me feel good about it all at the same time.”

I reach for his hand across the table, giving his fingers a squeeze, hoping he’ll realize I really do care about him. PDA always makes him squirm. But again, it’s all understandable. He wasn’t raised in a loving household; instead, love was bought with money, which makes me sad and wish things could have been different for him.

When he moves his hand away, I ignore the pang in my chest. “What can I say? I learned from the best how to stay on my toes.”

He tips his wineglass to me. “Don’t forget it either.”

Even his slight grin can’t hide the truth. My older brother appears to be the type of man that has it all, and yet has nothing that matters. He was deeply in love with Taylor, but he ended things with her, for reasons both Taylor and I don’t really know. Though I have my suspicions. Business came before her, because Darius had to fight his way back after his father cut him off. Then, when Darius began tasting
his
wealth, money became his only focus. Now that he’d made his billions, he didn’t know any other way to live anymore.

“Don’t you worry,” I reply to his statement. “I won’t forget.” Because if I’m not on my toes around Darius and Micah, and if I ever do forget that I wasn’t raised in a world where
love
didn’t come first, then I will lose the only thing left of my mother…
my memories of her.

Rain pours from the skies, soaking my gray T-shirt and dark blue jeans, as I watch the taillights of the Bentley slowly fade into the night. The aroma of cooked meat fills the air from the vendor on the street corner near Pier 39. It’s an exceptionally dark night, while young people fill the streets, heading into the clubs and pubs, enjoying their weekend.

That’s my plan as well as I turn to the building behind me, spotting the O’Keefe’s burgundy sign decorated with a gold Celtic knot. I enter the pub, and the roar of noise is a quick indicator of how packed this place is already. The heavy wooden door shuts behind me, and the design of the pub looks better suited for a small town in Ireland than downtown San Francisco. But I have always thought that’s part of the pub’s charm.

Looking through the crowd, I find Gabe working behind the bar, flipping bottles high in the air, putting on the show he’s known for. My muscles begin to relax and finally the tension in my shoulders loosens. I need a little familiarity right now. And O’Keefe’s means kicking back with good food, great beer, and live music.

I move toward the bar, hearing the Irish folk music coming from the band in the back, which is right when Gabe sees me. He gestures with a tilt of his head toward the end of the bar, where there’s an empty seat. I adjust the tip of my baseball cap a little lower on my face, hoping no one recognizes me as I make my way through the crowd.

Once there, I drop down onto the wooden stool, watching Gabe move to me with a beer in his hand. His hazel eyes rake over me as he slides the beer my way. “You look like shit,” he quips.

“Never one to hold back your thoughts, are you, Gabe?” I take a sip of the crisp beer, attempting to reconcile my mood with myself, and in fact, feeling like complete shit.

Allie hadn’t been the first woman to look at me like I’d torn the fabric of her soul apart. The difference being: my reaction to that look. My stomach knotted, a dullness forming in my chest the second she left me today, and those sensations remain now and had even grown worse. I’m not used to the longing I feel for her. Nor am I used to second-guessing myself. The sadness in her eyes is haunting me. And tonight I came to Gabe’s pub so I wouldn’t go to her house.

I lower the bottle from my mouth, enjoying the bite of the cold hops aftertaste. “It’s been a rough day.”

“Yeah, I see that.” Gabe grabs a rag out of his back pocket and begins wiping away the spills on the wooden bar in front of me. “But luckily for you, bartenders are the best therapists.”

I snort. “You’re not a bartender. You’re the CEO.”

“Semantics!” Gabe smiles, tucking the rag back into his pocket.

I doubt most customers in this bar realize that Gabe’s not a struggling bartender, but is a Harvard-educated multimillionaire. Yet he suits his bar, standing proud of his Irish roots. “Important semantics, however,” I remind him.

“Maybe.” Gabe shrugs, resting his arms against the edge of the bar, leaning closer to me. “What’s up?”

There’s no one in the world I trust more than Gabe, not even Levi, and that’s saying something, since I trust Levi with my life. Even so, I’m hesitant in how much I tell him. “I’ve met someone.”

Gabe’s eyes widen, a rise in his vocal pitch. “A chick has you looking like this?”

“She’s become a complication,” I admit.

I’m expecting his question when he leans in even closer to keep the conversation private. “A DC complication?”

Is this my problem, too?
is what’s unsaid between us. For men who belong to the Dominants’ Council, the question is a valid one. “No.” I shake my head. “She’s
my
complication.” I’ll keep Allie being Darius’s half-sister to myself for now. I don’t need Gabe chastising me over this. But I admit to him, “I’m wanting something that I shouldn’t have.”

“Ah, now, that I understand.” Gabe’s eyes dance as he leans away, putting space between us. “I’ve got one of those forbidden treasures myself.” He turns his head, glancing at the woman behind the bar with him, wearing a dark pair of skinny jeans and a tight black T-shirt with
O’Keefe’s
written in gold across her chest. “Kenna,” he calls, waving her over to us.

She delivers a beer to her customer, then settles in next to Gabe. “Whatcha need, boss?”

“Micah Holt, this is McKenna Archer,” Gabe introduces. “She’s been working for me now for…”

“A month or so,” Kenna offers.

“Ah, yes.” Gabe grins. “And what a month it’s been.”

I see what draws Gabe to McKenna. He likes his women blond, shorter than him, and curvy, and McKenna has all those traits. Plus her eyes are intoxicating, a mix between green and amber, holding strength and sass. “Nice to meet you,” I say to her.

She smiles. “You, too.”

Gabe leans against the side of the bar, grinning boldly at her. “I’ve been asking Kenna out on a date for a couple weeks now and she keeps breaking my heart by refusing.”

“Aw, poor baby.” McKenna grabs a beer out of the fridge below the bar and cracks it open. “Don’t worry, I’m sure there’s a hundred women ready to bandage you all back together.”

Gabe’s eyes shine as he presses a hand to his heart. “See how she wounds me?”

McKenna shakes her head, laughing, and strides away.

“Like I said,” Gabe says, turning to me, “a forbidden treasure.”

“What do you want from her?” I ask, watching McKenna deliver the beer to a customer.

“I’d like to string her up and fuck her mercilessly.” Gabe hesitates, then groans when McKenna bends down to grab another beer out of the fridge, giving a perfect view of her round ass. He finally looks at me again with a frown. “Anything more than that would create problems.”

I take a sip of my beer, realizing my mistake. Allie had been a forbidden treasure, and I knew that the day I met her. Our worlds cannot possibly mix. Hers is so innocent, so pure, so untainted. Mine is something else entirely.

I’d felt the unusual draw to her, the intense pull to have her, and that should’ve been my warning to stay away. Now there’s no turning back. I had a taste of something I hadn’t had before—a woman who touches my basic instincts, as well as stirs emotion inside of me, especially the desire to claim. I keep expecting my dark needs to swell inside and overwhelm me, needing an outlet to be released, but the beast is still quiet and calm, and I believe that has to do with Allie and the warmth and kindness she offers me.

She’s giving me something
different,
and I want to keep it…keep
her.

I sigh heavily and give Gabe the reply he’s waiting for: “That’s some great advice, if only I’d heard it days ago.” The damage has already been done. I can’tt forget her. Nor can I ignore that I want to be in bed with Allie right now.

Gabe is watching me closely, cocking his head. “This complication, it’s that bad?”

“Worse than you could imagine.”

“What are you going to do?”

Leave her alone,
is what I should do. It’s what I must do. She’s Darius’s little sister, for fuck’s sake. He’ll have my head on a stake the second he hears about this. Why? Because I’m not the man he’ll want for Allie. I’m not the man she deserves. She deserves a man who works nine to five and wants to have kids with her, taking them to their team sports in a goddamn minivan.

I’m not that guy.

I’m the guy who wants my woman beneath me, while she’s bound in my ropes.

“That I don’t know yet,” I finally admit to Gabe and myself.

Gabe’s eyes widen, as does his grin. “Well, that’s a first.”

I nod, it being the only answer I need to give.

I
always
have a plan. Women don’t get to me. I don’t let them, and Gabe knows this, too. But Allie’s getting right under my skin. I can feel her there, all that warmth and
light
weaving within me and tugging me to make this right with her.

For years, I have kept absolute control over my life. I chose Juliet to fulfill the needs that most women cannot. I don’t date women who consent to kinky sex. It confuses things for me. I have rules in place to keep a firm grip on my life. I set boundaries to keep everything in line. I don’t do emotional relationships. Yet I feel myself slipping.

I’m wanting things I shouldn’t want.

And I’m wanting them with a woman I shouldn’t want.