Page 46 of Scandalous Secrets

I wondered what I should do with this new information. I racked my brain for the name Erica and who she might be, but came up with nothing. Was this another woman from Troy’s past? Or present? The thought made me sick.

“I can see that you have no idea who I am,” she said, putting the paper down and taking a sip of coffee.

“I’m sorry,” I started.

“It’s fine. My brother doesn’t normally introduce me to his flavors of the week,” she said.

“Troy is your…”

“Brother. Yes.”

The previous thought that this could be a woman he was seeing alongside me dissipated into thin air and was now replaced with the sinking thought that we had been caught, and not only caught, but by his family member.

“Oh, I’m his personal assistant,” I stammered.

“Is that so?” she asked, eyeing me up and down as I looked entirely too comfortable in a house that was most likely partially owned by her.

“Yes. Um, I’ll go get him for you.” I felt my face burn as I turned quickly and strode down the hall, slipping slightly on the marble floors.

I could have sworn I heard her chuckle slightly behind me.

I flung through the double doors to the bedroom where Troy was still peacefully sleeping. I went to pack my bag, but then remembered it was still outside of the front door, still packed with the clothes I was clearly lacking. I sighed frustratedly as I walked swiftly back through the house, yanking open the front door and grabbing mine and Troy’s bags. I carried them quickly back to the bedroom, tossing them on the floor, not caring if the noise woke up Troy. We had to get out of here.

Chapter 22

Troy

Iwas deep in the midst of a very good dream. I was back in the ocean with Monica’s legs wrapped around me and then we were lying in the sand, listening to the waves crash as our bodies lay bare. I thanked whatever part of my dreams that was in charge of replaying our night together in the water, on the beach, in this bed. But now I was being torn from that dream. I was being shaken awake, breaking me out of a dream I wanted to stay in. I groggily opened my eyes and I groaned as the morning lit room came into focus. I saw Monica hovering over me, her hands on my arms, pushing and pulling me.

Okay, I wasn’t so mad anymore now that my dream was now a reality. I gave her a sleepy smile and grabbed her, pulling her on top of me so her legs were on either side of me. I could already feel myself growing hard against the plush robe she had wrapped around her. One slip of the tie and she would be naked before me. I eagerly reached to untie it, but stopped when I saw the look on her face.

Maybe she hadn’t woken me up to fuck. She had woken me up because something was wrong.

“What is it?” I asked, sitting up, but still clutching her against me so our faces were just inches apart.

“We have to leave. Right now,” she said.

I let out a laugh, not understanding why we would ever do such a thing.

“What are you talking about? Why do we have to leave?” I asked, running my hands up her sides. I could just remove this sheet and find my way inside her so easily from this position. I leaned in and began kissing her neck, again reaching for the tie of her robe.

“Will you stop that?” she hissed, pushing my hand away.

She was serious.

I reached up and cupped her face with my palms. “What’s wrong?” I asked seriously.

I had never seen her like this.

“Your family knows about us,” she whispered.

My stomach dropped. I didn’t know what she was talking about. We had been as discreet as possible. Well, maybe not always, but mostly careful. Had Kathy brought up her suspicions to my father? I wouldn’t know because my phone had been off since yesterday. He had no way of reaching me to chew me out. So how did Monica know this?

“How? What are you talking about?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm, but it sounded more panicked than anything.

“In the kitchen…” she said, putting her flushed face in her hands and burying it. She climbed off me and I quickly pulled the sheets from my body. I strode to the closet and plucked a matching white robe off the hanger, slipping it on.

I noticed Monica had brought our bags in and was now on her knees, digging through her duffel frantically. She was tossing bikinis and lacy things over her shoulder. I tried not to get distracted by what she would look like in them, and focused on calming her down.

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