MINE FOREVER (BOOK III: The Billionaire's Obsession) by J. S. Scott Page B
Authors: J. S. Scott
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to start a construction job there. I was getting ready to graduate from high school and Sam had made enough money working construction to bring us to Florida to join him."
"You were graduating from high school at the age of sixteen?"
"I skipped a grade. Twice. School was never difficult for me." He answered in a sheepish voice, like the fact that he was smart embarrassed him.
Why was she not surprised that he was a boy genius too? "So, what happened after she came in?"
"She came on to me hot and heavy. I responded like a sixteen-year-old who had never gotten laid. She had me in my bedroom within minutes. She was experienced and I let her take the lead. She opened my fly and had my dick out of pants and a condom on before I really knew what was happening." He laughed, but there was no humor in the hollow sound. "Not that I would have objected. I had a beautiful woman above me, ready to fuck me senseless. I was a teenager in complete ecstasy."
Oh. Dear. God.
Kara bit back a horrified gasp. Her suspicions had to be wrong. It couldn't have happened that way.
"She had the knife hidden in her bra." His voice trembled.
She wasn't wrong, and the nausea started to rise in her throat.
"So there I was, getting my first fuck, drowning in erotic bliss, never once thinking that there was something strange about the whole situation. She grabbed the knife and started stabbing the moment I started to come. It took me by surprise. She had stabbed me so many times before I realized what was happening that I didn't have a chance to defend myself." His chest was heaving, his voice strangled and raw.
Kara's whole body quivering with emotion, she turned in his arms, straddled his thighs and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Why?" she asked, her question coming in a short sob. "Why would she do that?" Burying her face in his neck, she let her tears flow unchecked down her face. All she could think about was the vulnerable teenage Simon, lying in a pool of blood, dying just because he was hormonal, a typical young man.
Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he answered in a graveled voice, "Revenge. My father died before he could be punished for stealing from a powerful boss in an organized and huge cartel. The organization was sending a message, letting people know what happens to a person or their family if they try to steal from them. They couldn't let my father's bad deed go unpunished. He died before they could send that message. I was just a substitute."
"But why Rose?"
"The boss knew we had been friends since childhood. Her loyalty was being tested. She was pretty deeply involved in the organization. They threatened to kill her mother and brother if she didn't kill me." Surprisingly, there was no bitterness in his voice.
Shaken to the depths of her soul, she choked out, "Is she in jail?"
"She's dead." His voice was flat. "She fled as soon as I passed out from blood loss, obviously convinced that I was a goner. She went straight to an alley, took a lethal amount of drugs and slit her wrists with the same knife she used to stab me. They found a suicide note and her confession in her pocket. She begged forgiveness from both her mother and mine, saying that she had to protect her family. She never knew that I survived. Mom came home a few minutes later and found me. If she hadn't, I would have been dead."
Unable to contain her horror, she sobbed into Simon's neck, crying for all of the pain that he had suffered, both emotionally and physically. How did one survive a betrayal like that? Especially by a friend, a woman he had adored. "I'm so sorry."
"Why?" he asked, sounding perplexed. "You didn't stab me." He rubbed his hand up and down her back. "Don't cry. I don't like it." His voice was demanding, but he rested his head against hers, his touch on her back gentle and comforting.
A sad smile crossed her lips as she tried to rein in her emotions. His comment was so...Simon. He had no idea why she was crying for him, hurt for him.
"You were graduating from high school at the age of sixteen?"
"I skipped a grade. Twice. School was never difficult for me." He answered in a sheepish voice, like the fact that he was smart embarrassed him.
Why was she not surprised that he was a boy genius too? "So, what happened after she came in?"
"She came on to me hot and heavy. I responded like a sixteen-year-old who had never gotten laid. She had me in my bedroom within minutes. She was experienced and I let her take the lead. She opened my fly and had my dick out of pants and a condom on before I really knew what was happening." He laughed, but there was no humor in the hollow sound. "Not that I would have objected. I had a beautiful woman above me, ready to fuck me senseless. I was a teenager in complete ecstasy."
Oh. Dear. God.
Kara bit back a horrified gasp. Her suspicions had to be wrong. It couldn't have happened that way.
"She had the knife hidden in her bra." His voice trembled.
She wasn't wrong, and the nausea started to rise in her throat.
"So there I was, getting my first fuck, drowning in erotic bliss, never once thinking that there was something strange about the whole situation. She grabbed the knife and started stabbing the moment I started to come. It took me by surprise. She had stabbed me so many times before I realized what was happening that I didn't have a chance to defend myself." His chest was heaving, his voice strangled and raw.
Kara's whole body quivering with emotion, she turned in his arms, straddled his thighs and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Why?" she asked, her question coming in a short sob. "Why would she do that?" Burying her face in his neck, she let her tears flow unchecked down her face. All she could think about was the vulnerable teenage Simon, lying in a pool of blood, dying just because he was hormonal, a typical young man.
Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he answered in a graveled voice, "Revenge. My father died before he could be punished for stealing from a powerful boss in an organized and huge cartel. The organization was sending a message, letting people know what happens to a person or their family if they try to steal from them. They couldn't let my father's bad deed go unpunished. He died before they could send that message. I was just a substitute."
"But why Rose?"
"The boss knew we had been friends since childhood. Her loyalty was being tested. She was pretty deeply involved in the organization. They threatened to kill her mother and brother if she didn't kill me." Surprisingly, there was no bitterness in his voice.
Shaken to the depths of her soul, she choked out, "Is she in jail?"
"She's dead." His voice was flat. "She fled as soon as I passed out from blood loss, obviously convinced that I was a goner. She went straight to an alley, took a lethal amount of drugs and slit her wrists with the same knife she used to stab me. They found a suicide note and her confession in her pocket. She begged forgiveness from both her mother and mine, saying that she had to protect her family. She never knew that I survived. Mom came home a few minutes later and found me. If she hadn't, I would have been dead."
Unable to contain her horror, she sobbed into Simon's neck, crying for all of the pain that he had suffered, both emotionally and physically. How did one survive a betrayal like that? Especially by a friend, a woman he had adored. "I'm so sorry."
"Why?" he asked, sounding perplexed. "You didn't stab me." He rubbed his hand up and down her back. "Don't cry. I don't like it." His voice was demanding, but he rested his head against hers, his touch on her back gentle and comforting.
A sad smile crossed her lips as she tried to rein in her emotions. His comment was so...Simon. He had no idea why she was crying for him, hurt for him.
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