Ex Boyfriend Betrayed Me: His Dad is Mine

(Chelsea's POV)

I will never forget the sound.

The wet, rhythmic slap of skin against skin. The muffled groan I recognized as Adrian's voice. The low, breathless whimper I had only ever heard when my best friend confessed secrets after too many glasses of wine.

It all collided together in the most nightmarish way the moment I opened the door to his apartment without knocking, like I always did a hundred times before, like I belonged there.

I froze in the doorway, my hands trembling around the bag of Chinese takeout I had picked up for us. The smell of sweet and sour chicken clung to me, sickening when mixed with the scent of sex that lingered in the air.

And there they were.

Adrian was behind her, hands gripping her waist as he drove into her with the kind of savage energy that made him distracted enough not to realise someone had walked in on him having sex. Her long blonde hair swung wildly as she braced herself on the headboard, moaning his name, begging him not to stop.

Sophia. My best friend. My sister in everything but blood.

"Adrian?" My voice cracked.

They didn't stop. Adrian's deep blue eyes finally met mine. The look he gave was not one I expected. I had imagined he would pull out immediately and run towards me not caring that his cock was dangling in front of him, and beg me to forgive him or maybe tell me it is not what I think. Rather, those eyes held irritation in them. Just irritated that I had interrupted.

"Chelsea," Sophia smirked at me, panting, as if I hadn't just caught her doing something so horrific. "I guess you weren't giving him what he needed."

I dropped the bag. The containers burst open, sauces spilling across the hardwood floor in sticky pools.

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. My chest hurt so badly it felt like my ribs were splitting open. Then I turned and ran.

I didn't remember taking the elevator, didn't remember how I made it onto the busy streets or where the hell my legs were taking me to, but the tears began to fall hard without waiting for me to at least get home first. Tears pooled in my eyes, blurring my vision, but even with that, I kept on walking.

Adrian. Sophia. I felt nauseous as I recalled the image.

It didn't make matters any better that I had come to see Adrian in hope that he would help with my mother's hospital bills stacked high on the kitchen counter. I had never told him about my mother being sick but now that she needed surgery, I thought I had no choice but to let him know. However, the only two people I trusted had just ripped my heart right out of my chest.

By the time I stumbled into a bar, my mascara was ruined, my chestnut-brown hair tangled from my shaking hands running through it. I didn't care. I just needed to forget.

I ordered whiskey, my voice hoarse as I slid into a stool. The first burn down my throat made me hiss, but the second went down easier. By the third, I didn't taste it at all. I only felt the numbness beginning to crawl in, dulling the sharpness of the pain I felt inside.

Having lost my best friend, I had absolutely no one to call or talk to about the pain I was going through. No one to share the feelings that squeezed tight in my chest.

That was when I felt him.

A large, heavy and dominant presence before a voice. "Rough night?"

I turned, and for a moment, I thought I was hallucinating. The man sitting in the stool next to me was as handsome as a man you didn't just find at a random bar. But like the kind you saw in glossy magazines, the kind in an expensive suit who happened to own the skyscrapers that cut across the New York skyline.

Dark suit, perfectly cut to broad shoulders and a lean waist. Raven hair with threads of silver at the temples, slicked back to reveal sharp cheekbones and a jaw that looked carved from stone. Not to mention, his pair of amber eyes were the most beautiful I'd seen in a while. I had no idea if it was the effect of the alcohol, but I found him extremely attractive.

"Something like that," I whispered.

His gaze lingered on my ruined eyeliner, then my lips and then down enough to have scanned me from head to toe in a way that made me feel naked even though I was still in my simple black dress.

"I'm guessing you came alone." he said, his voice a deep, low growl.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. "And if I did?"

He looked away, his eyes on his shot glass as he twirled it in his hands. "Then if I were you, I would assume I've had enough for the night and head home before the men over there make their move on you."

I followed his gaze and truly, there were a group of men staring my way with hungry looks on their faces.

I should have listened, taken the advice. I should have paid my bills for the night, grabbed my purse and found a cab to take me home in hope that I would cry myself to sleep. But there was something about the way they looked at me like stripping me bare was all they could think about. And God help me, I didn't want to feel weak anymore. I wanted to be wanted.

Maybe I could lose my virginity tonight. Maybe I had kept my virginity for too long and that was what cost me this tragedy. I had thought it was to my advantage and not the other way around. To make it special on our wedding night. Adrian and I. But I guess I was wrong. He ended up cheating on me either ways.

With my fucking best friend!

"What makes you think I don't want them to?" I asked the man. My voice trembled, but I forced myself to meet his gaze.

And who was he to tell me what to do anyways? Because he looked the age of someone that could be my father didn't mean he could order me around.

He said nothing but placed money on the bar without even glancing at the amount, then held out his hand. I stared at it, at the veins that cut across his strong wrist, at the expensive watch glinting under the dim light.

"Come with me." He said. "I can protect you." And that was all it took for me to obey.

My pulse thundered in my ears as I slipped my hand into his.

He led me through the bar like he owned it, and maybe he did. People stepped out of his way without realizing it, as if his presence demanded space. We exited into the night, and before I knew it, we were in the seats of a sleek black car.

"Where's home? I'll take you there."

I didn't respond immediately. I stared at him and he did the same. The silence was thick. I felt his gaze on me, tracing over my bare thighs which were exposed by the hem of my dress riding up higher as I shifted nervously. I had an idea what his look meant. He wanted me.

I decided to use my chance.

I shifted closer and ran my hands along his thighs. His eyes followed.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his brow furrowed.

"Seducing you." I mumbled. "I want you to fuck me."

He groaned and caught my hand in one swift move once I reached the bulge in his pants. "You don't know what you're doing. You're drunk." He growled.

"I know exactly what I'm doing." I yanked my hand away and glared at him.

Why was he being so hard? I could read the lust in his eyes. It was so obvious.

"If you're not going to do it, then I'll find someone else to."

He caught my hand before I managed to open the door and get down from his car. His grip was so tight that I actually thought I had made him so angry by showing rebellion or defying his orders.

"Why? Is this something to do with your relationship? Is that why you want to be fucked by any random man so bad?"

"None of your business." I hissed trying to release myself from his grip but I couldn't be lucky twice.

"Fine." He flung my hand away and suddenly gripped the steering wheel so hard I nearly thought he was going to rip it off. His jaw clenched as he started the engine, maneuvering into the road.

"Where are you taking me to?" As if I had just returned to my senses, panic gripped me.

"To give you just exactly what you're asking for, sweetheart."