Page 1 of Carnal Desire
PROLOGUE
Brian
Twenty-Two years ago…
I’m not a noble man and I never claim to be. I’m involved in some pretty shady shit at times, straddling the line between right and wrong. Society deems what good people should do or how they should act, but are there really any good people in the world? Or are all people out for themselves?
I walk in the shadows, and I walk in the light choosing which side when I need to. I do what needs to be done when the need arises if and only if it’s in my best interest despite the shit it might get me into. However, most of the time I’m on the right side of things, like letting her go even when my heart screams in protest for me not to. When my heart screams, she is the one for me, even when my head says it is time to walk away.
It’s hard to say goodbye when you love someone. But saying goodbye is also what you do when you can’t make that person happy regardless of the pain it will cause you. Or them.
Sacrifice your happiness so they can find theirs. That’s true love.
It took a while to realize I wasn’t the best person to make her life complete. We were compatible in every way except that one way. Tara loved me and I loved her too but both of us were too chicken shit to tell each other the hard truth because of the love we shared.
Then one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. Sex isn’t what makes a relationship work, but what Tara needed I couldn’t to give her, and I refused to have her living a life with me where she couldn’t be her authentic self.
Letting her go is why I’m now sitting beside her inClub Jade, my BDSM club, comforting her because the man that’s absolutely the other half of her soul threw it all away. I don’t know the exact reason he walked away, but I assume it has to do with taking over the family business for his father. I expected that move for a while now, but I also expected Valentino to tell her his fucking plans, not blindside and leave her without knowing what the hell was happening.
Her tears soak my light blue dress shirt, staining it with the makeup she’s wearing, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t care if I have to trash my thousand-dollar dress shirt after this. If I can’t be there for her as her other half, I sure as hell will be there for her as her friend and hold her until she can’t cry anymore.
I love this woman. She doesn’t question it and neither do I. And while the sexual aspect of our relationship has ended, our friendship is solid. It will be that way until I take my last breath. I’ll do whatever she needs me to do, be whoever she needs me to be, so she makes it through this heartache.
I kiss her forehead. “Let’s get you home.”
Once I make sure she’s comfortable and safe, I’ll return to my penthouse alone, and wish I could find someone to fill the emptiness of my bed and the emptiness inside my heart.
1
Brian
Present…
Work. Work. Work. It’s never ending.
My dress shoes echo off the hardwood floors in my condo as I pace the expanse of my dining room while on the phone with my assistant in front of my floor to ceiling windows of my penthouse that overlooks Chicago’s vibrant night skyline. The impeccable view was one of the things that convinced me to purchase a penthouse in the city and not a home in the suburbs. The five-bedroom four bath condo situated on the forty-fourth floor is located in one of Chicago’s upscale districts. It’s way too large for just me but I love the area, the view, and the layout. It’s high ceilings, open floorplan, hardwood floors, and minimalist design is everything I was looking for in a home. It’s well worth the 3.5 million I spent for it, even if it does get lonely with all this space.
Out of all the places in the world I’ve lived, Chicago is the place I spend most of my time except for Los Angles. My cyber security company,BH Cyber Securitiesis now headquartered out of Chicago even though I consider Los Angles home. So, I spend at least four or five months out of the year here.
I’ve been in Chicago for a couple of months for my yearly stint in the city and my time is winding down, so it isn’t shocking my L.A. personal assistant has called and said there’s an issue. I should be used to it. Shit always seems to hit the fan when I’m out of town.
“It’s like grown ass people need a fucking babysitter.” I run my hand through my hair. “Get it done, Ronnie! I don’t give a fuck how you do it, but by the time I return to California, I want every fucking board member in the damn conference room at nine o’clock in the morning and not a second later! If I have to cut my time here short to deal with shit because of the shit they’re planning, not one motherfucker better be late.”
I don’t even wait for him to respond. I just end the call and toss my phone on the custom limestone dining room table not caring whether the damn screen cracks from the impact. Shit, it would be good if it did, then I can get a moment of fucking peace instead of having to deal with some stupid ass bullshit.
I sigh, trying to calm down. I’m fucking miles away. There isn’t anything I can really do about it, until I find out exactly what’s going on. I run my hand roughly down my face trying to wipe the frustration away. “I need to give Ronnie a raise for putting up with all this bullshit. It’s fucking ridiculous.”
Ronnie Franklin had a rough life growing up just like me. He’s only twenty-three years old. I hired him when he was twenty after I ran into him at one of the homeless shelters I donate to in my old neighborhood. He’d been living on the streets since he was thirteen and reminded me so much of myself when I was his age.
After having a short conversation with him about his life goals, I handed him my business card. I told him to stop by my office the following Monday, and we’d discuss his future. I wasn’t sure he would show up because my offer was too good to be true. But I hoped he would. I didn’t expect him to have anything and told him to come with the clothes he had on his back if he wanted to make a real change in his life.
I know what it is like for people to turn up their nose at you if you don’t come from money, or have the right kind of car, or have nice clothes. They write you off as just another nobody, someone looking for a handout, or lazy. However, I refuse to be that person when I’m in the position to help. I refuse to turn my back on someone who is in a similar position as myself when I was their age. Not when I can make a difference. A life-changing difference that will change the course of someone’s life. My good friend Tara always says I have a savior complex. I’m not sure if that’s true or not but if it is, I embrace it.
When Ronnie showed up the following Monday that was all I need to hire him. I offered him a position as my former assistant’s intern. Angela was older and nearing retirement. She was just waiting for me to find her replacement. I bought Ronnie a week’s worth of work clothes, gave him a room to crash in at my home in the Hollywood Hills, and access to one of my vehicles. He showed up every day on time as my former assistant trained him. Then when she retired, I promoted him immediately to the position, and he’s been with me ever since.
He puts up with my bullshit and everyone else’s. He does his fucking job and more without one complaint. Which is more than I can say for some of my board members who just think this company runs by its damn self and all they have to do is sit back and rake in the money.
“Fucking money-grubbing bastards,” I mumble.
