Read Online Aced (The Driven #5) by K. Bromberg - Free Book Online Page A

happiest we’ve ever been with the baby coming.” His eyes soften momentarily as he looks down to where my hands rest before looking back up to me with more resolve than I want him to have. “Think about it, Ry,” he urges, and I hate that he makes so much sense.
    He can tell my mind is spinning and my ears are tuning him out. I grit my teeth and fight a wave of nausea. “What exactly are you thinking?”
    His chest rises as he takes in a deep breath, and I fear he’s preparing himself for the backlash from whatever he has to say. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
    “What’s not? The video? The situation? The idea in your head?” My voice rises with each word.
    “All of it,” he states.
    “Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask, eyes wide with disbelief. “There’s a video of you screwing me on the hood of a Ferrari!”
    “No. There’s a video of me fucking somebody on the hood of the Ferrari. Your face is never shown. The only people who know that dress is red are you and me. The only people who know you hold your hands over your tits when you’re about to come, or that you reach out and scratch your nails over my hip like that when I come, are you and me. No. One. Else.”
    I just keep shaking my head, eyes blinking, pulse pounding in my ears. “You’re out of your goddamn mind.” I throw my hands up, helpless and astounded. “So easy for you to suggest when the video is so dark you can barely see your dick but you sure as hell can see all of me, laid out and spread-eagle.”
    “Listen to me, Ry. I couldn’t care less if my dick was on display or not.”
    “Stupid me. I forgot you’re used to being seen by the masses. After all, you were the playboy once upon a time. You had your dick on display for more women than I care to count.” I take a dig at him, wanting him to be as upset as I am over this whole thing.
    “That’s exactly my point. I’m the notorious playboy. The player. People expect this shit from me.”
    “But they’re going to think you cheated on me,” I say, completely dumbfounded by the turn of events. And while I may have learned not to care what people think, I do care about that.
    “I don’t give a fuck what people think about me . . . you know that. The only person that matters is you. You know I didn’t cheat on you—”
    “This is a bad idea, Colton.”
    “I’m not paying some bastard three mil so he or she can turn around and release the tape anyway. I don’t bow down to threats, Ry. Never have. Never will.” We stare at each other in silence and his words sink in, take hold, and as much as I want to reject the idea immediately, I fear that what he says is true.
    “But what about your parents? My parents? The baby?” I say, each passing moment adding more panicked dread to my voice. “There’s going to be a video out there, documented for them to google and know about.” I have to stop. A gasp falls from my lips because as the baby moves into my ribs my breath doesn’t come fast enough.
    “Calm down, Ry. Please.” He sits on his knees again and pulls me against him. I close my eyes, attempt to wish this all away, yet know there is no way that’s possible. “We’ll tell our family it’s not what they think. That it’s Photoshopped. We’ll have Chase issue a press release to the media. It’ll say something like we were sent this tape that’s been tampered with. That we were being blackmailed for a ridiculous amount of money and we won’t entertain paying for it because my image has been cut and pasted into it somehow, and it’s not true.”
    I push him away and just stare at him, seeing the logic but at the same time, that’s us on there. Him and me. “No one’s going to believe it, Colton. You know better than anyone the press is going to run with the story and report it in the worst light possible. Sensationalize it. Try to document how distraught I am. Dig up old photos of you with other women, plaster them all over the pages to show