Gambling For The Virgin:A Dark Billionaire Romance(152)

Turns out he was married. Wife and one kid.

He apparently also had another job at KPMG as an accountant. He was  representing me and sending me to do porn to fund what I don't know, but  whatever it was, my fees were paying for a double life for him.

I hadn't put up with a man that had a 5-inch cock for this. I didn't put  up with a man with violent tendencies that occasionally slapped me when  he got angry for this. Fuck, I didn't put up with a man that pimped me  out at porn sets for this.

I could have been a real model. I could have done so much.

I rang the doorbell that night and she answered. I can't even remember her name but I remember her eyes widened when she saw me.

"You have to leave!" she whispered to me.

"Are you his wife?" I asked. She nodded to me and closed the door.

"You don't want to confront him, babe," she told me. "You need to go now!"

But I couldn't just go. I couldn't just leave her there if she was afraid.

But she shook her head.

"I've been married to him since high school," she told me. "And I know  who you are. I know all of his women. He doesn't care to hide them  anymore from me. He thinks he has me beaten down."

If you want to think that I'm sort of slut or sub-human then you're  welcome to hun, but this woman was living with a true sub-human. His  wife told me he had half a dozen girls working in porn at any given  time. He'd use them until their shelf life expired. Then he'd move on.

"You need to leave and pretend you never came here!" his wife told me.

She went on to tell me that I wasn't the first person to have discovered  her house. There had been one other, a year ago. She had come knocking  and had stormed the house during the day.

Robert had slapped her around a couple times, and then dragged her to his car.

When he came back, he hadn't talked about her and pretended the whole thing had never happened.

"She never acted in porn after that. Just dropped off the face of the  earth," his wife told me. "I think he may have killed her, but I can't  go tell anyone because I have no proof."

I still wanted to confront him. I could handle my own.

"Then he'll kill me, so his secret never comes out," she said.

And I saw desperation in her voice.

"I can take care of myself and my boy if you just leave," she pleaded to  me. "If you pretend that you never saw me. That you know nothing of  this house."

The look in her eyes I think is what convinced me to listen to her, you know?

I remember getting in the car and driving off.

But I didn't go back home. I just kept driving. Left Los Angeles. Ended  up in Vegas that night where I emptied our bank accounts the next  morning, and moved all the money into a separate, new account.

I found a guy who changed my last name from White to Roman and made me  an entirely new social security number and even gave me a 720 credit  score.

Then I drove off.

I kept driving until I reached New York.

It was as far away from Robert as I could go.

And I started Man Chasers LLC. I don't know why I went out hunting for  cheaters. Why the sole purpose of my job was to bring misery to men.

But it felt good. It felt damn good.

And now, either I go on the run again, or I sacrifice everything and everyone I've come to love to stay standing.

But I can't just think about me.

I need to think about my baby. His baby.

No, it doesn't sound right, does it?

I need to think about our baby.

And as soon as that comes into the picture, I know exactly what I need to do.

I know exactly why I can't keep running anymore.

No.

It's time to fight back. It's time to show just how strong I can be.

The whole Brittney that runs away and is too weak-I left her in Los  Angeles. The Brittney in New York City? She's a bad fucking bitch.         

     



 

But before I do anything, I need to tell Ethan.

The truth.

For real this time.





115





Ethan





"Ethan?" There's a knock on the door, and then Brittney steps inside my  office. She wasn't supposed to be around this soon, and the expression  on her face tells me that something's up. And I have a feeling that I  won't fucking like that something.

"Hey, you okay?" I ask her, getting up from my chair and going around  the desk. I place my hands on her hips and pull her into me, brushing my  lips against hers. She kisses me back, but her whole body is tense.  "What's going on, babe?"

"I …  I need to tell you something," she starts, fear and anxiety in her voice.

"You know you can tell me anything, Brittney. I love you," I tell her  with a smile, tucking a lock of her hair over her ear. "Tell me what's  going on."

"I know that Cheryl doesn't trust me …  Because she thinks I came here to steal your prototype," she starts, her voice quivering.

"Hey, don't worry about her …  She's very protective and-"

"She's right. I came here to steal it," she cuts in, pursing her lips  and locking her eyes on me. There's fear on her face, but there's also  determination. She's telling me the truth, but why now? "And I was  working for Simon." That's it; I just fucking lose it.

"Simon? You've been working for that fucking excuse of a man?" I let go  of her and take one step back, having no idea on how to process what  she's telling me. Fucking Simon, of all fucking people. "How could you?"

"He …  blackmailed me. I had to …  I had to, Ethan. I had no other choice,"  she continues to speak, tears welling up in her eyes. I'm torn between  holding her in my arms and punching the fucking wall. Simon always tried  to fuck me over, and it seems that this time he really got close to it.  "He …  Threatened he would tell my ex where I was and …  I don't know what  he would do if he found out, I really don't. I'm sorry, Ethan, I'm so  sorry."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is bad; everything in this situation is fucking terrible.

"How far have the two of you gotten?" I ask her, almost unable to hide  the rage in my voice. If I were face-to-face with that motherfucker, I  would give him the beating of his fucking life. He tried to fuck with my  company, and along with that, with the woman I love. This is a fucking  declaration of war.

"He …  He stills needs the code. Without that, he has nothing … "

I remain in silence, looking at her as I consider my options. There's not a lot that I can do.

"Ethan …  Please, say something … " she whispers, taking one step forward  and placing her hands on my chest. "I don't want to lose you," she  mutters, looking me in the eye. "I need you," she continues, and I  become acutely aware of the way her body is pressed against mine. Before  I know it, my cock is hardening and pushing against my boxer briefs. As  she presses her breasts against me, all of my fury and lust blend into  one another and I just fucking lose it.

I push her against one of the mirrors on the wall, pinning her arms  while my mouth goes straight for her neck. I'm fucking furious right now  but, somehow, that makes me want her even more. I start to kiss her  neck and then I press my mouth against hers, an animalist urge taking  control of me. I need to fuck her, and I need it badly.

Her hands dart to my waist, and not losing any time, she unbuckles my  belt and starts to unbutton my pants. Then, flattening the palm of her  hand against my boxer briefs, she starts to rub my hard cock.

Anxious to be inside of her, I place one hand under her ass and force  her to lift her leg, hiking her dress up to her waist. I press my body  against her, gritting my teeth as I feel my cock against her pussy. She  tangles her fingers in my hair, and as we kiss madly, she starts to sway  her hips from side to side, rubbing herself against my cock.

I don't know why or how, but the fury and rage at what Brittney and  Simon intended to do is turning into lust, and I can't fucking stop. It  overpowers me, shutting down my rational mind and leaving me in a  frenzy.

"On your knees," I tell her, pulling out from her kiss. Without saying a  word, she goes down and hooks her fingers on my boxer briefs. She pulls  on them, sending both boxers and pants down to my knees, and grabs my  cock with one hand; with the other, she cups my balls and starts to  massage them. I groan, closing my eyes for a moment, and she starts to  stroke me at a frantic pace, my shaft throbbing against her fingers.

Exhaling sharply, I place my hands on her head and grab her hair by the  root. With that, I pull her into me. She tilts her head to the side and  smacks her lips against my shaft, running her tongue up and down my  length. Going from my balls to the tip, she finally parts her lips and  wraps them around my glans; moving slowly but firmly, she starts to go  down, my shaft pushing its way between her lips. When I feel my glans  against the back of her throat, I hold my position for a few seconds,  and only then do I pull back.

Still grabbing her hair, I keep her head still and start to thrust, my  shaft flying in and out of her mouth at a relentless pace. I fuck her  mouth with abandonment, anger and rage hardening my movements and  infusing them with a kind of furious desperation.