Forever Branded (Billionaire Love Series #1) (5 page)

His words hit their mark.

I couldn’t believe he was being so rude.

Who the hell did he think he was?

Full-blown hurt erupted in my chest as I shot him a hard stare. “Some of us have responsibilities that make us grow up a lot faster than we should have to.” Tears filled my eyes as I ached for my mom for the millionth time. “You shouldn’t make assumptions about people when you know nothing about them!”

“Whoa. What are you talking about?”

“Nothing that concerns you.” I wiped at the tears furiously, unwilling to let him see my pain as I grabbed my backpack off the chair. “Thank you for being a jack-ass and making this an easy decision. You got your wish, Shepard. I’m outta here.”

I didn’t wait for him to say something; I just left, cursing my willing heart.

Stupid boys.

CHAPTER THREE

Beau:

Life had offered me a pretty sweet ride. I had money, status, and privilege. It bought me whatever I wanted, excused any indiscretion, and included me in a VIP world.

But I didn’t give a shit.

None of it really mattered.

I’d lived for years in a fog after Marla broke up with me. I’d only resurfaced when I had a car accident. It cost me my hockey career, my leg shattering as I wrapped my Ferrari F50 around a tree.

I was lucky to walk after that.

Having a near death experience scared me enough to straighten out my life.

I cut out the heavy partying and channeled my energy into becoming a workaholic and a fuckaholic. When I wasn’t at the office or working out, I was screwing every hot woman in Baltimore, trying to get Marla out of my head.

I could still remember how her soft skin tasted, the breathy pitched moans she made as we went at it. It haunted me at times, even in the middle of a great fuck.

Marla was my first.

For everything.

I’d loved her so hard, I’d come apart at the seams when she left me. 

I’d never been the same since.

Now, I just wanted to punish her.

Especially after seeing her at that party.

After all these years, she still took my breath away as she stood there wide-eyed. My blood ran hot and I wanted to make her squeal like the naughty girl she was hiding under the modest black dress she wore.

A rush of dirty flashbacks ran through my mind, mostly of her opening wide and welcoming me in. I had to control my first instinct to run over, scoop her up, and lay a hard kiss on her sweet, lush mouth.

I had never gotten over her.

I knew it. I lived with it.

I should have been able to let her go and move on.

But she became ground zero for me when she blasted a hole the size of Texas in my heart. For now, I would settle for fucking her up, the way she had so easily done to me.

After I left the party and dumped the disappointed redhead back at her apartment, I sped off in my bright blue Bugatti Veyron as I high-tailed it across town. I had better things to do than waste my time dealing with her shit anyway. She was starting to look at me as if we were more than fuck buddies.

We weren’t ever going to be more than that.

I would never trust a woman again.

Not worth it.

I headed back to the Gators headquarters, where I conducted most of my business. Located in a high-rise, I keyed in my code and made my way up to the fifty-second floor in my private elevator.

As I set foot into the Gators office, everybody perked up.

The boss was in.

I passed a couple of women smiling in my direction, while men nodded in respect through the glass-plated walls of their offices.

Power was good.

Walking into my spacious office which overlooked the scenic oceanfront, I was determined to dig up dirt on Marla. I had a million other projects that demanded my attention, but I didn’t care.

“Get Mitch on the phone for me, Donna,” I said to my secretary, taking off my jacket and throwing it on one of the leather high back chairs in front of my desk.

“You got it. Want some coffee?” she asked as I paced back and forth, trying to get a hold of myself.

Marla had me all whipped up. I could barely think straight.

“Sure.” I ran my hand through my hair, trying to settle my jets, wondering why that girl always got under my skin.

Donna brought me a cup of Joe, moseying in as if she had all the time in the world. She was in her mid-fifties, with her red hair in a French twist, dressed like she was Peggy on the show Mad Men. She wasn’t crazy about technology, but she was the best damn secretary I could ask for —sharp as a tack, didn’t miss much, and she kept things running smoothly. Just what I liked.

“What’s got you all worked up?” she asked as she watched me pace.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Mm-hmm,” she said, studying me with her perceptive light blue gaze. “I bet it’s a woman.”

“It might be...but you’ll never know,” I fired off.

She just narrowed her gaze at me. “Smart ass.”

I grinned. “You always keep it real, Donna.”

“Someone has to,” she shot back with a grin, turning around and heading toward the front of the office. A couple of seconds later, she shouted, “Mitch on line one,” as I grabbed the phone and sat down behind my big mahogany desk.

“What do you need?” my head of security asked as soon as he heard my voice.

“I need you to do some research for me.”

“On who?”

“Marla Matthews. I want everything on her. Leave no stone unturned.”

“Got it boss.”

I slammed down the phone and sat back in my black leather office chair. I lit a cigar, put my feet on my desk, and thought about what had just happened.

Goddamn Marla Matthews.

Still the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

Curvy, sensuous, and hot.

She still had it after all these years.

Twenty-two goddamn years.

I figured she’d be married with two kids by now.

But she’d been at the party all by herself.

Why?

It didn’t make sense.

I needed to know why she wasn’t married and being taken care of by another man. My gut clenched as I thought about the last time I saw her. She said some horrible things which I would never forgive her for.

I had been completely fooled by her innocent do-gooder act. But underneath her sweet veneer was a heartless woman who didn’t give a shit about anyone.

Least of all, me.

When I’d lived in Toronto, it’d been easier to put her into the back of my mind. Granted, I had been fucked up for many years, but still, I couldn’t see her because she was thousands of miles away.

However, here in Baltimore, it was hard to resist the temptation of knowing her every move. I could almost breathe her in. No matter where I went.

I knew I would run into her eventually. Still, it had been a shock to my system, watching her stare at me like she was seeing a ghost.

FUCK! I couldn’t believe I still wanted to know what was going on in her life. It tore me up and I hated that she brought out so much emotion in me.

It hadn’t always been like this.

My first impression of Marla, when I’d seen her in the library all those years ago was that she was pretty but a stick in the mud. I remember her being a little frumpy in her overalls and plaid shirt.

Then she got all feisty with me when I showed no interest in that stupid paper on
Jane Eyre
for that damn Honors English class my dad pushed me into. Her big, brown doe eyes had flashed with anger when I called her boring.

Most girls would have twirled their hair and tried to win me over with a giggle and a smile.

Not Marla.

With tears in her eyes, she told me off without a second thought. So much passion in each word as she angrily picked up her notebook from the library table.

Whoa. She had all of my attention as she stalked off, while I sat back wondering who she was.

How had I not noticed her before?

The sweet, brown eyes.

The long lashes which gave her an innocent, come-hither stare.

And that backside.

Heart-shaped.

Generous.

Hips for days.

Damn, I got a woody just watching her walk away.

CHAPTER FOUR

Marla:

“Not a very good beginning was it?” I asked Grace as I sipped my tea.

“Oh, there was plenty of passion in that little exchange. I can only imagine what came next,” she surmised, filling her cup with more tea.

The aroma of black currant swirled over me. “Do you really want to know what happened next?” I asked, wondering if my story was worth telling.

Her green, almond-shaped eyes twinkled in excitement. “Of course I do! This is so exciting. I want to know everything.”

“All right,” I said warming to the idea of sharing all the sordid details of my high school romance. “The next day, to my surprise, Beau approached me at my locker. I was still fuming, so I wasn’t very nice to him.”

I eyed him suspiciously, as he leaned casually against the grey metal locker next to mine. “What could you possibly want? Are you back to tell me how bored you are?” I asked sarcastically as I threw my books into my locker with a bang.

He wasn’t fazed by my anger. “Ah, come on, Sunshine. You can’t be mad at me forever. I’m here to make it up to you.”

I narrowed my gaze at him, trying to figure out what he was really up to. I briefly looked past him, wondering if he was trying to pull a mean prank.

Nothing seemed out of place, but I was still on guard.

He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans as his blue gaze turned sincere. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? You were right. English isn’t my favorite class and I didn’t want to be there. But, I talked to Ms. Sprite this morning and she said you were my best bet to pass her class.”

I scoffed openly as I tossed my math book into my pink backpack. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

His smirk was back, his charm in full effect. “Yep. I mean it, I swear.”

“So it’s okay to be rude and mean to people in your world, but just apologize and everything’s okay?”

“I wasn’t mean,” he said, looking surprised.

“Oh, yeah, you were most definitely mean and frankly, I’m not interested. Thank you for the apology, but this just isn’t going to work. I’m sure Ms. Sprite can find someone else to tutor you.”

“I don’t want to work with anyone else. Besides, Ms. Sprite asked you to help me.”

I studied him, gazing into his serious face. “You don’t want to work with anyone else? What’s changed since yesterday?”

He shot me a lopsided grin as his blue eyes lit up brightly. “I’ve seen your smarts, Marla Matthews. I know I’m in good hands.”

Oh god, he was using flattery to get me to do what he wanted.

No way was that happening.

I smiled half-heartedly. “Thanks for the compliment, but the answer is still no,” I said closing my locker.

“Really? Why not?” he asked boldly, even though his gaze flickered with vulnerability.

I sighed, deciding to level with him. “Look, I did this as a favor for Ms. Sprite, but I’m not interested in having my time wasted or my feelings hurt because you can’t, or won’t do your paper on your own.”

“Ouch,” he said as his charming veneer fell away and a hurt expression entered his gaze.

I cringed a little and tried to make it better. “I’m not trying to be mean here, Beau. I’m sure you’re lovely when you don’t have to work on English, but I can’t afford to take that chance. So the answer is no and now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta get to math class.”

His mouth opened a few times, but nothing came out as I brushed by him, wincing at the disappointment crossing his face.

Slight guilt washed over me as I walked down the hall, but the relief was stronger. I reminded myself I was putting a bad situation behind me. I didn’t need to be around jerky boys. I knew how cruel they could be.

Two words: Bobby Hendricks.

He was a popular senior boy who started paying attention to me when I was a freshman. Blessed with honey brown hair and a Brad Pitt smile, he was hard to resist.

He reeled me in a little at a time as he started saying hello to me in the hall, which progressed to him stopping me and saying, “Marla, right?” as he shot me a winning grin.

I didn’t think much of it at first.

Until he stepped up his pursuit.

He began waiting for me after class and even put his arm around me as I walked down the hall.

Of course, I was flattered, giddy even. An older boy was flirting with me. It didn’t ever occur to me that this was all a set up.