Alpha Billionaire Taboo Prison Break: A Contemporary Romance (10 page)

III.

 

To help make
ends meet, I had taken a part-time summer job at the local library. Mostly I
stocked books and showed old people how to use the public computers.

When my
shift was over I went home and made myself some popcorn, took a long, hot shower,
and flopped onto my bed, ready to relax for the rest of the night. I grabbed my
new phone and started fiddling with all the different settings and downloading
the essential apps. The only bad part was that my entire address book had been
wiped out when Chase tossed my phone in the pool. It would be a major pain to
re-enter all those numbers by hand, so I simply added the most important
contacts and called it good.

I heard a
meow, and suddenly Rufus hopped onto the bed and into my lap. I had just fed
him, so I knew he wasn’t hungry. Spoiled cat. He only wanted attention. When
Rufus lifted his white front paw I snapped a quick photo, and to my surprise
the picture quality was amazing. The camera on the new iPhone was a huge step
up from my old phone, which took photos so pixelated you couldn’t tell a cat
from a pile of laundry.

I clicked
the button to put the camera in
selfie
mode and was
totally shocked by what I saw. I mean
,
not to brag,
but I looked good. My long, dark hair was sleek and shiny, still a bit wet from
the shower, and my lips were full and pouty. Best of all, the bath towel
wrapped around my body had shoved my boobs together, giving me real, defined
cleavage for what seemed like the first time in my life.

Chase
doesn’t know what he’s missing.

I held the
camera close to my rack and snapped a picture. I was
all
alone
in my bedroom. No one but Rufus was around to see. Feeling a
little bit sexy and more than a little naughty, I teased one corner of the
towel down to reveal one of my nipples. I tweaked the little round nub between
two of my fingers and watched in the camera viewfinder as it tightened before
my eyes. Without even thinking, I snapped another picture. Then I stared at the
photo for a while.

Delete it.
Delete it now.

I freed my
other breast from the towel, exposing them both, and clicked the camera.
Something about it felt unbelievably sexy and exciting. These photos were only
for my eyes, but when I thought about a man seeing these images, becoming
aroused by the mere sight of my naked breasts, I felt myself getting warm and
tingly between my legs. I pressed my thighs together, not even realizing how
wet I was becoming.

I looked at
the photo again. My face was totally obscured. Oh, what the hell? I messaged
the photo to Chase, thrilling at the idea of a man enjoying a peek at my
breasts. Within seconds of clicking send, the thrill was replaced by panic. But
then I noticed the little dot-dot-dot indicating that Chase was typing a
response.

Not bad

Not bad
!?
What kind of a response was that? I was trying to think
of a devastating comeback when the dot-dot-dot re-emerged.

Show me
more

What do you
want to see? I replied.

Your cute
little cunt

I gasped at
Chase’s vulgar choice of phrase. Chase and I had only been dating for a few
weeks, and we hadn’t even made it past third base yet. Not for lack of trying
on his part. I don’t know why I was so reluctant to lose my virginity. But
every time we were making out in Chase’s car and he slid his fingers into my
panties, something about it just didn’t feel right. He obviously didn’t know
what he was doing, which was such a turn-off.

But now I
was in charge. I could do whatever I wanted, and his fumbling fingers would not
get in my way. I teased open the bath towel, the soft fabric sliding across my thighs,
and I began to caress the ache between my legs. My fingers parted the folds
down there. When my fingertips found the sensitive little nub of my clit, I
moaned out loud.

I had never
spread my legs for a man, but now I spread them for the camera. I held the
device inches from my pussy, teased apart the pink little folds, and clicked.
If that’s what Chase wanted, then that’s what he would get. When I saw how sexy
I looked I smiled to myself and sent it to Chase. The response came
immediately.

Evie

is
that you?

I recognize
your bedroom

Sexting
? What the hell are you thinking?

I was
confused. The sexiness of my erotic photo session had evaporated.
Who is this?
I asked.

Shit,
Evie
. This is your father.

IV.

 

I’ll spare
you the details, but believe me, I was horrified, embarrassed, ashamed, and any
other word that describes the helpless feeling when a parent finds out his
stepdaughter is no longer the innocent little girl he thought she was. I cried
myself to sleep that night. When I woke up the next morning I had received a
long email from my stepdad that basically said he was disappointed in me and
that I was to never, ever send photos like that to anyone as long as I lived.
For your own good
, he added helpfully.

Before the
sexting
episode, we had stayed in touch via emails, text
messages and a weekly Skype call. Afterward, all communication ended. I thought
of all kinds of reasons for my stepdad to give me the silent treatment. My
biggest fears were that he was ashamed of me, and he didn’t love me anymore.

Then I got
the email letting me know that he was flying home for a couple of weeks, and
asking if I could arrange his ride from Fort Hood.

Sitting in
the passenger seat as he steered his old pickup truck, I stole another glance at
my stepdad. The uncomfortable silence was eating me up inside. I certainly
didn’t want to talk about what had happened, but I was unable to think of
anything else.

My stepdad
had seen my boobs. My stepdad had seen
my … oh
, god,
he had seen my pussy.

Things
between us would never be the same. That much was obvious now.

But my
shame was also mixed with some feelings that made me feel very strange. I mean
,
he was the one who asked to see my “cute little cunt.” He
hadn’t known it was
me
, but still. The thought of it
stirred something deep inside me, something so unnatural I didn’t even want to
think about it, but I couldn’t help myself.

I stole
another glance at Patton, my strong and dashing stepdad. Before he knew that
was my cute little cunt, I wonder if he liked what he saw?

It was a
long drive back to Austin. I had to think of something for us to talk about,
something that would ensure we didn’t have to address the awkward tension
between us.

“So,” I
began, “how is the war going?”

It felt
like a totally dumb question, but I had to break the silence somehow. When I
saw the look on my stepdad’s face I knew he didn’t really want to talk about
it. From the tone of his voice, I could also tell that he was not being
entirely truthful.

“It’s like
a vacation,” he said. “Although it’s pretty boring most of the time. But my
forward operating base has not seen a lot of fighting, so it’s about as safe as
a trip to any major American city.”

“Why did
the Army let you come home?”

My
stepdad’s face darkened. “Oh, just a little rest and relaxation,” he said.

Whatever.
There was something Patton wasn’t telling me.

We were
driving south on Interstate 35, past the car dealerships and strip malls that
make up the suburbs north of Austin. There was another awkward pause. Patton opened
his mouth to speak,
then
closed it.

“Almost
home now,” he said eventually. “I hope you and Aunt Maude didn’t wreck my house
while I was gone.”

“Yeah, it’s
completely destroyed,” I joked. “Sorry about that.”

“Typical
Aunt Maude. How is she?”

Aunt Maude
was my great-grandmother. She was a sweet old lady who had come to stay at our
house so I wouldn’t be forced to move to a different high school during my
senior year.

“She’s
great,” I replied. “She’s visiting her sister’s family for the rest of the
month.”

“She left
you home alone?” Patton asked, sounding incredulous.

“It’s fine,
Daddy,” I assured him. “I can take care of myself for a few weeks. You do
realize that I’m an adult now?”

Patton’s
eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say a word. My face blushed with embarrassment, a
feeling that was soon replaced by anger.

“Do you
want to talk about this?” I asked. “I mean, let’s just get it over with. Punish
me. Tell me you’re disappointed. Whatever you need to say, just say it.”

My
stepfather steered his pickup down the freeway, his eyes locked to the lane in
front of him. I watched him, waiting for a reply—any reply. He did not
say a word for what felt like an eternity.

Then he
grunted.

“It’s
like
you said. You’re a grown woman now. It’s your body …
and your choice what to do with it.”

I don’t
know why, but I burst into tears. My stepdad kept his eyes on the road and
didn’t say another word.

V.

 

For the
first few days that Patton was back, we gave each other a lot of distance. He seemed
more like a visitor, or a roommate, than my stepdad. The only exception was
that instead of relaxing, he set about doing all the house repairs that Aunt
Maude and I had let accumulate while I was gone.

He did all
the usual dad stuff like cleaning the gutters, mowing the overgrown jungle of
our backyard, anything that kept him out of the house during the day while I
was home from my summer job.

“Tug is
coming over tonight,” he told me one morning when I was on the couch watching
TV.

“Okay,” I
replied, not looking up. “I’m going out with my boyfriend.”

Tug was my
stepdad’s nickname for his best friend Tugboat. Tugboat was also a nickname, of
course. I think his real name was Glenn.

My stepdad
and Patton had served in the Guard since they were both eighteen. He went over
to Iraq the same time as Patton. Although I was surprised that Tugboat was also
sent home in the middle of his deployment, I didn’t really feel like asking a
lot of prying questions, so I let it go and turned up the volume of my TV show.

That night,
I was getting ready for my date with Chase when I heard the doorbell ring.

The front
door opened, and my stepdad’s happy voice boomed through the house.

“Tug! Come
in, brother! Let me grab you a beer.”

I sat
still, listening to my stepdad and Tugboat’s muffled voices and their footsteps
as they walked through the house, making their way to the patio beyond the
backdoor. The patio had been one of Patton’s projects. He had sweated away an
entire summer laying the flagstone and building the outdoor fireplace, then
crafting the table and chairs from these old logs that he had found somewhere.
Ever since he finished, there was no place he’d rather be on a summer evening
when the breeze was blowing.

The patio
was next to my bedroom. When I heard the men’s voices outside, I cracked open
my window so I could eavesdrop.

“But it’s
not fair,” Tugboat said. I heard a loud thud, like he was slamming his fist
down on the table. “You did the right thing—the honorable thing—and
now we’re being punished. It’s obvious retaliation.”

“I knew the
risks involved,” Patton said. “My only regret is that Commander
MacAvoy
dragged you into it.”

“He thinks
he can shut us up,” Tugboat seethed. “Send us on the most dangerous and
dumb-fuck stupidest mission ever imagined. He gets us both killed, and presto.
The problem disappears as soon as we do.”

“We might
come out alive,” Patton said.

“Yeah, I
guess anything is possible,” Tugboat replied. “But we wouldn’t even be doing
this if
he
thought we had a chance of
surviving.”

I pressed
my face against the window screen. I could see the two men sitting at the patio
table, Tugboat shaking his fist and my stepdad just sitting there in his stoic
way.


MacAvoy
expects us to die in the desert,” my stepdad said.
“And that’s fine. You and I are both willing to give our lives for our country.
That’s what we signed up for. Anyway, I think we have a real shot at taking out
al-
Farqi
. It would be worth losing our lives to save
so many more.”

“You’re
right about that,” Tugboat agreed. “I cannot wait to get that murderous son of
a bitch in my crosshairs.”

“Well,
you’ll probably get your chance. Unless I beat you to it.”

Tugboat
managed a rueful laugh and the men were silent for a moment as they sipped
their bottles of beer.

My world
was spinning. I could not believe what I was hearing. My stepdad was being sent
on a deadly mission, and he didn’t expect to make it out alive. The fact that
he was ready and willing to die seemed insane to me. Not to mention incredibly
selfish. Sure, he would get all the glory, in service of his country, but where
would that leave me, his daughter? I had already lost my mom. I couldn’t bear
to lose my stepdad, too.

My heart
was pounding so hard, I wanted to run outside to the patio and tell these two
men what I really thought.

Then I got
the text message.

Get your
sexy ass out to my car.

Crap! Chase
was here. I shot him a quick message saying I’d be out in a few minutes.

Timer set
for 60 seconds

I wanted to
stay and listen to my stepdad’s conversation, but for some reason the idea of
Chase actually setting a timer filled me with a sense of urgency. He wanted me
to come with him, but he wasn’t going to wait. And I definitely didn’t want to
be left out of whatever fun he had planned for us.

I grabbed
my purse and dashed through my bedroom, pausing only for a moment to inspect
myself in the mirror. I looked good, even sexy, as long as you ignored the
worry in my eyes. My little black dress clung to my curves in all the right
places.

When I
raced out the front door, Chase was already backing down the driveway. I ran
after his car, my hands waving and my boobs bouncing everywhere. He slowed down
just enough for me to jump in.

“Shit,
Evie
,” Chase said, his eyes raking down my body. “I’m glad
you didn’t make me wait.”

“Just
drive,” I said.

“Jeez,”
Chase mumbled. “That time of the month or what?”

“It’s
nothing like that,” I replied. “I just found out something about my dad. I
really don’t feel like talking about it, though.”

“Suit
yourself. I don’t feel like talking, either.”

Chase
cranked up his rap music until it was so loud I thought my eardrums would
burst. He sped out of my neighborhood, took a few more streets and turned onto
Interstate 35.

“Where are
we going?” I shouted over the music, but he ignored me, too busy with his
phone.

We passed
The University of Texas campus and the state capitol building,
then
Chase exited the freeway and turned onto Sixth Street.
We all called it Dirty Sixth because it’s where the college students and
tourists went to do the kinds of things they would regret in the morning.

Bright and
gaudy signs for
night clubs
lined either side of the
one-way street. Dozens of people strolled along the sidewalks, taking in the
sights. It was still a bit early in the evening so the road was still open to
through traffic. Before long it would be closed and all three lanes would be
taken over by rowdy club-hoppers and drunks wandering on foot from one bar to
the next club.

Chase
pulled up to a particularly swanky dance club called Pulse. A line of people
had already formed in front of a velvet rope at the front entrance. A valet in
a black suit and white gloves sprinted to the curb and opened Chase’s door.

“Mr.
Donovan,” the valet said. “It’s very good to see you tonight.”

Chase
snorted and turned to me. “Is there anybody who doesn’t know me in this damn
town?”

I hit the
latch on my door, and the valet ran to my side and held the door open for me as
I exited. Chase tossed the keys to the poor guy, who looked to be only a couple
of years younger than we were.

“No joy
rides,” Chase said.

“Of course
not, sir,” the valet replied.

Chase held
out his elbow for me and guided me to the front entrance, past the dozen or so
people waiting to get in. The bouncer smiled and nodded as he unclipped the
rope, letting us cut past the entire line. I accidentally made contact with a
college-aged woman who flashed me a look so jealous and hateful I flinched and
turned away.

A second
bouncer opened the door for us to enter. I turned to Chase and whispered in his
ear.

“Don’t they
know we’re both underage? What if we get caught?”

“I wouldn’t
worry about that,” Chase smirked.

The club
was very dark except for incessant lights that
strobed
and flashed, illuminating the dance floor. The decor seemed to be very modern
in a Euro-trash way. To my surprise, however, the place was practically
deserted, despite the line of people waiting to get in.

A few women
were milling around and dancing half-heartedly. They stopped as we walked past,
all of them ogling Chase and giving me the stink eye. It made me chuckle a bit.
I knew Chase was good-looking, but I had never thought of him as a head-turner.
He did look nice tonight, though. He was wearing a dark and expensive-looking
blazer over a dress shirt that he had not bothered to button all the way up.
His designer jeans were carefully
stone-washed
, frayed
and torn to give them that tattered look that was all the rage. I wouldn’t have
been surprised if he paid more than a thousand dollars to get jeans like those.

Oh, well.
At least they made his bony little butt look good.

Another
bouncer, a burly black guy with a shaved head, ushered us to a roped-off VIP
section where we sat on plush leather chairs. A waitress wearing next to
nothing set down an icy bottle of vodka, smiling at Chase as she poured our
drinks.

“You’re
Chase Donovan, aren’t you?” she asked a bit too flirtatiously for comfort. “I
recognize you from the fashion spread in Austin Monthly.”

“You’re
very observant,” Chase cooed.

“When I want
to be,” she replied. “Can I get you and your”—she cut a side glance in my
direction—“your companion anything else right now?”

“I could
think of some things,” Chase said with a devilish grin.

The
waitress grinned right back at him. What the hell was going on? My boyfriend
was flirting with some bimbo waitress in front of my very eyes. I elbowed him
hard in the shoulder.

“Ouch! What
the hell was that for?”

I turned to
the waitress and flashed her a look that dripped with fuck-you-bitch.

“We’re fine
for now,” I said.

“That
really hurt,” Chase sulked after the waitress had left our reserved lounge. He
rubbed his shoulder and nursed his drink, refusing to look at me.

“You were
flirting with that waitress,” I said. “‘I can think of some things?’ What the
hell was that supposed to mean?”

“You’re so
paranoid about every little thing,” Chase grumbled. “I was just trying to
butter her up to get better service, not make you all jealous. Way to kill the
buzz.”

I felt like
screaming, or hitting him again. Instead, I downed my drink.

“Do you
want me to leave?” I said. “I can easily catch a cab if I’m ruining your
night.”

“Come on,”
Chase said. “Don’t be like that. Let’s go dance.”

Before I
knew it Chase had grabbed my hand and was pulling me onto the dance floor. A
few more people had shown up, but the club was still pretty dead. As Chase
began to dance I followed along, although I felt awkward and conspicuous as one
of the only couples dancing to the pulsating club music.

Chase kept
looking at the other ladies, which was annoying, but I gave in to the music and
let it carry me through several songs. The same waitress from before came and
put a drink in Chase’s hand, giving him that same flirty smile that made me so
angry. Sure, I was jealous. I had every right to be.

I turned
around and bent over a little. Arching my back, I let my butt grind into Chase
as he swiveled his hips. His crotch pressing against me and I could feel a
small bump in the front of his jeans. With his drink in one hand, he put his
other on my hip, pulling my body into his as he pretended to fuck me from
behind.

People were
watching us. One scantily clad college girl covered her mouth and whispered
something to her friend, never taking her eyes off of
me and
Chase
. Her friend doubled over with laughter as Chase started ramming me
with exaggerated ferocity. I glanced back at Chase. He was looking at the
college girls and laughing.

Laughing at
me.

I tore away
from him and stormed across the dance floor, back to our reserved VIP lounge. I
threw myself down, sinking into the plush leather sofa, and turned up the
bottle of vodka. My face was burning with embarrassment and I wanted to drown
all my problems, let the booze burn them away.

Chase was
an asshole. I already knew that. But I had stuck with him anyway, for a lot of
reasons that were hard for me to explain to myself. I mean, he was good-looking
and rich, and I didn’t have much else to do that summer before I went off to
college.

Then I
thought of Patton. My stepdad who had gone off to war, then come home only for
me to find out he was leaving again—and not expecting to come back. My
boyfriend was a jerk and my stepdad was abandoning me for a second time.

Tugboat had
seemed awfully worried about this mission of theirs, and I knew from my
stepdad’s stories that Tugboat was no coward.

This was
bad.
Really bad.
I took another pull from the vodka
bottle. The icy burn raced down my throat, and I nearly choked, swallowing it
down before I coughed it back up. As soon as my tummy felt like it wasn’t on
fire anymore, I took another swig. Then another.

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