My Cruel Lover (Wicked Poison Book 3) Read online

  Copyright T.L Smith 2021

  My Cruel Lover by T.L Smith

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Warning

  BLURB

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Also by T.L. Smith

  About the Author

  Heartbreak Me

  Warning

  This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This e-book is intended for adults ONLY. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Cover – Outlined with love

  Edited – Swish Editing

  Editor - Ink Machine Editing

  Proofread – Lisa Edward

  BLURB

  My heart has been broken, torn to shreds.

  I’m used to the game of pain.

  Basically, I’m acquainted with it.

  Some would say I’ve become immune.

  That is …

  … until him.

  He’s cruel, hard, and everything I should stay away from.

  For one, he is my boss.

  Second, well, I can’t stay away.

  But in this game of life, maybe pain is my love.

  Or maybe I’m not seeing things clearly.

  Because every time his hands touch me, it’s anything but cruel.

  Chapter 1

  Beckham

  “Please.” Her voice is a squeal through the phone. I have to pull it away from my ear, and when I do, I shake my head.

  Fuck, why did I even answer?

  I never answer.

  It must have been a momentary lapse in judgment.

  That’s the only reason I can think of for my stupidity.

  “Rebecca,” I guess. She has been messaging me non-stop all day, asking me to come over tonight. That is not going to happen.

  “Yes. Why? Do you have someone else?” she squeals.

  “I do. Multiple, if I’m being honest. Which I informed you of when I first asked you to drop your dress,” I say to her as I drive up to my house.

  “Arghhh.” Her screech is loud through my car’s hands-free phone unit.

  “Look, I have to go.” With a quick flick, I hang up on her. She automatically tries to call back, but I ignore it. Leaning over the seat, I grab hold of my bottle of whiskey to head inside my apartment building. The doorman opens the door for me as I walk in and takes the keys for my car, which he will park.

  I was born into a life of luxury and still live in that lifestyle. I’m in my early twenties and already a multi-millionaire, and well on my way to being a billionaire.

  “Sir …”

  Spinning on my heel, I turn to my doorman, Jim, who looks behind me and nods.

  As I turn, two arms wrap around my middle. “I’m ready to drop my coat,” Rebecca whispers in my ear, her voice sounding like cracked glass ready to puncture my entire being. I clutch the bottle of whiskey in my hand, a little too tightly, and then attempt to pull her hands off of me. When I step back, she’s wearing a long coat and sky-high heels.

  “Rebecca …” I start.

  She shakes her head and starts to undo the top button of her coat. It’s then I see the pink skin and realize she’s wearing nothing underneath.

  Fuck.

  Rebecca flicks her long hair back over her shoulder and holds her fingers at the top of the coat to keep it together. “Let’s take this upstairs. You know you want to.”

  I do.

  But I don’t.

  Confliction takes over, my body reacting to something I don’t want.

  Rebecca’s already attached. She wants me and obviously feels some sort of connection I have no wish to experience, so me taking her upstairs to bend her over would do nothing to help this situation I now find myself in.

  I look back to Jim, who’s watching us with his eyes widening and his mouth falling open.

  “Jim, please escort Rebecca out. She is not welcome here any longer.” I look back to Rebecca and smile. “I have work to do, and you need to leave. Please don’t come back again.” I try to step around her, but she opens her coat and showcases herself to me.

  I’m a man, so naturally, I look.

  But when I think about it, there is nowhere else to avert my eyes right now as she is all up in my face.

  When I look up at her eyes, there’s desperation there. Her eyes dart around a little, and she jerkily steps from side to side, then the pained stare has me searching for answers I have no questions for.

  “Please go. Do you need me to call you a cab?” I ask.

  Rebecca closes her coat quickly, her lips form a straight line, and she thrusts her chest out. “Fuck you, Beckham Harley.”

  I’m pretty sure that’s what she wants me to do. Fuck her that is.

  Her heels click-clack as she storms out of the building.

  Jim holds the door open for her, and I watch as she leaves.

  “Don’t allow any women in here. Only my sisters,” I tell him before heading toward the elevator that will take me to my apartment and away from the craziness that has just enveloped my life at this moment.

  “Yes, sir,” he says as I step in.

  My phone pings, and when I look down, it’s a photograph of my niece, Winter.

  Pressing call on her contact, Winter’s little voice echoes through my sister’s phone. “Uncle, I want to come to yours.”

  The elevator finally opens on my floor. Stepping off, I quickly pace over to the counter and place my whiskey on top, then look at it longingly.

  It’s the only thing that helps me sleep.

  I can sleep without it, but on the weekends, I need it or should I say want it. Not every weekend, just when I dream of her. Paige invades my thoughts when I’m exhausted, and I am helpless to stop the flood of emotions those thoughts inflict on me.

  I loved her.

  And then she died.

  Winter reminds me of her. Her soul is pure and sweet. Much like Paige’s was.

  “Next week! We will go on a date.” I hear Winter sigh, then she replies, “Okay,” before Rylee’s voice comes through the phone line.

  “It’s your birthday next week. Tw
enty-four. Are you excited?”

  “No,” I grumble.

  Because I’m not.

  Who wants to be excited about getting older?

  “Well, we are. August wants to know if you want steak or burgers.”

  “Neither. I have to go,” I reply, then hang up on her.

  Some days are harder than they should be.

  Some days, I dream of her. And when I do, I wake up drenched in sweat.

  As I said, whiskey helps. I don’t dream after whiskey. I simply pass out. So I walk over, grab the whiskey and a lowball crystal tumbler.

  Sitting on my couch, I press play on my phone. My apartment has speakers installed throughout. Every room you walk into, the music blasts, deafening me, helping me to drown out any unwanted thoughts.

  I down a shot.

  Those beautiful eyes smile with such ease as she stares at me.

  I shoot another shot.

  Her hand touches mine, and I feel the spark, the electricity that flies up my arm whenever she touches me.

  Another shot down the hatch.

  I get lost in it.

  One more.

  I get lost in her.

  I scrub my hand over my face. Fuck, tonight is worse than the other nights. Some nights her memory haunts me more than others. The women, the sex, the booze help to drown it out, but it’s always her.

  Always her face, I see.

  Always lost in her.

  Even when we were simply friends.

  My head drops back on the couch as her lips come into play.

  I would have died a thousand deaths to kiss those lips.

  I finish the bottle.

  My head is heavy, and when I close my eyes again, it’s not her I see.

  It’s blackness.

  Nothing but blackness.

  Chapter 2

  Jacinta

  I’ve been working for the Harley family business now for a few months. I was first assigned to work directly with Beckham, but that changed when his old assistant pushed back her retirement. Beckham, or as we all call him, Mr. Harley, has been working with Gloria since he started. And before that, Gloria was the assistant to his father, who built the company.

  Beckham, during his time in charge, has helped the company grow and mature into something that is now, well, massive.

  He is a bit of a superstar around here, he and his sister. She is the genius with numbers, while Beckham is the genius regarding business practices. I had heard Beckham wasn’t even meant to take over the company and that it was to be Rylee, but then she fell pregnant and refused to take on the heavy workload due to wanting to be with her daughter.

  Beckham also lost someone dear to him, which in turn has forced him to change his plans.

  The people in the office gossip—a lot.

  I try not to listen, but sometimes it’s hard. You overhear things even when you are not meant to, as we work in an open space environment, so it is natural to hear voices while we are working.

  I walk over to Rylee’s office to find Shandy at the door. She is one of the accountants and is also good friends with both Rylee and Beckham.

  “Jacinta.” Rylee smiles as she sees me.

  I once despised everything there was to hate about her.

  When I was eighteen, I had thought I’d fallen in love with a man who loved me too. But, to my surprise, he was with another woman, the one standing in front of me. I had that man’s baby and left. You see, Anderson has a powerful family, and I knew I had to protect my son at all costs. So, I left and didn’t return for five years.

  But that’s not the kicker of the story.

  The real ugly part is I got married in those five years I was away. I did it to change my name and protect myself and my son from Anderson’s family finding us. And that man I married, that broken, tortured man whom this town doesn’t like, was also in love with Rylee. Rylee was in love with him. I married him. And here she sits, still not hating me.

  I think I may love her a little now. Go figure.

  “Hey, I’m working for your brother today. Any tips?” I ask. She laughs, and so does Shandy. “What?” I state while staring at both of them.

  “He’s an asshole to work for. Just don’t quit. Okay?” Shandy says, which makes Rylee smile.

  “Why do you think my office is at the other end of the building and not next to his?” Rylee adds.

  Oh geez, I didn’t even think of that.

  “I’m sure it will be fine,” I tell them.

  Well, I hope it will be.

  I met Beckham once when I was pregnant over five years ago. He was a good guy. Protective of what he loved but overall nice.

  However, people change.

  “As long as you keep on believing that …” Shandy pats my shoulder and walks off, muttering, “… that’s all that matters.”

  Taking a step into Rylee’s office, I spin around and shut the door behind me, then take a seat in front of her. “Oliver has been asking to see more of August. Would that bother you at all?” I ask. She offers me a sad smile. I didn’t want to ask, but Oliver loves August, and he was a father figure in his life for a few years.

  “Of course not. Why doesn’t he come over for a sleepover? I’m sure Winter would even love it.” I bite my lip and glance away. “Jacinta …”

  I look back at her with a small smile. “I haven’t really had a night away from him. I have no family, and well …” When I had Oliver, August was the only one there for me. But he wasn’t Oliver’s father, even if he was an amazing man with him.

  “Well, all the more reason to. You need alone time too, you know. You need to go out for cocktails or sit in your bath and eat chocolate. Gosh, do whatever the hell you want.”

  Relief floods me as I stand. Rylee should hate me, but she doesn’t. I know why August loves her so much, even why Anderson was so scared to lose her. She’s someone you gravitate to, even if you don’t want to. She’s a naturally lovely person and one I have grown to appreciate so much.

  “I should go before Beckham arrives.”

  Rylee laughs. “Hunny, he’s already here. Beckham is the first to arrive and last to leave.”

  My eyes go wide at her words. “Are you joking?”

  She shakes her head. “Nope, but his assistant doesn’t usually get here for at least another half an hour, so you showing up early will make a good impression.” I stand, nod, and straighten my skirt before I turn to open the door and walk out. “Good luck, Jacinta.” I hear her words as I quickly step it to my office.

  I changed my name to Mary when I was away, but Rylee refuses to call me that. And, eventually, I went back to my real name.

  “I may need it,” I say quietly to myself as I walk to the other end of the building where Beckham’s office is located. My new desk is situated right outside his door. No one is currently at the desk, and the door to Beckham’s office is slightly ajar, so I knock lightly.

  “What?” he barks.

  Oh, crap! I straighten my spine and push the door open, attempting to give him my confident look. However, angry eyes glance up at me as I stand frozen in the doorway. Shit, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  “Mr. Harley, just letting you know I’ll be at my desk if you need me.”

  His eyes rake over me, and something passes over them before they turn angry again. “What desk? Who the hell are you?” His hands now rest on the desk in front of him as he watches me, or should I say, assesses me. How can someone be so young and yet so damn intimidating? We are almost the same age, but shit, he knows how to get right under your skin and quickly.

  He has a power to him. Even from a distance, I can see it, feel it as it emanates from his whole persona. And when you add on his looks, well, none of that is fair to any self-respecting woman.

  I shouldn’t care about that though, right?

  I’m here to work.

  To do a job I am paid to do, nothing more.

  “I’m your new assistant.”

  He looks at me again
. “You’re fired. Shut my door!”

  “I …” No other words leave my mouth.

  “Fired. Shut the damn door.”

  I step back and do as he says, maybe with a little more emphasis than needed, when I hear the bang of its closing, then I stand there unsure of what to do. I’ve only been here for a few months, and now, well, I’m fired. But for what? I don’t understand.

  “Just sit down and do your work. He fires Gloria every other day of the week,” a man pipes up from across the hall. He pushes his glasses up his nose and saunters off. I look at the chair where I’m meant to be sitting and wonder if it’s suicide if I sit down in it.

  Shit.

  I really need this job.

  So I take a chance I’m not going to be escorted from the building anytime soon.

  Sitting, I start the computer and arrange the work on my desk. Gloria has left me detailed notes everywhere, which proves to be very helpful. Pity she didn’t tell me I would be getting fired on my first day working for that man. I breathe out a heavy sigh.

  “Gloria.” I turn at the sound of that voice.

  He yells it again.

  Then again.

  I stand and step over to his door, contemplating opening it until the door swings open in front of me.

  “You,” he seethes, then looks past me to my desk and then back to me.

  “Yes. What can I get for you, Mr. Harley?” He steps back and slams the door, not answering me.

  Well, okay then.

  I’m glad I was able to be of assistance!

  I take my seat and get back to work.

  A few hours later, the door opens again, and Beckham stands there, large and intimidating.