The Panties Scandal:Crazy Night with My Ex's Uncle

As I was getting ready to make love with my boyfriend, a lace panty suddenly fell out of his suit pocket. It clearly wasn't mine.

I immediately slapped Blake across the face!

"What the hell is this?" I roared.

"It's no big deal, Ava You know, an open relationship. I suggest we try it," he said nonchalantly.

I was stunned - after eight years of love and preparing to marry, Blake had betrayed me. How had I never realized he was a jerk?

Just a few hours ago -

We had attended Blake's father's wedding to his second wife Isabella. Isabella is a lovely woman, and I really like her.

At the altar, as Isabella was about to toss her bouquet, she walked towards me amidst the eager gazes of all the women.

I started feeling nervous. I looked at Blake, and he was gazing at me tenderly as if it was what he had been hoping for.

"Eva, dear," Isabella said as she handed me a bouquet of white roses and lilies. "I can't wait to see your wedding with Blake."

As I received the bouquet, a flush of warmth rose to my cheeks. My gaze turned back to Blake, and he leaned in, his lips brushing my ear as he murmured, "Looks like I'd better hurry to the nearest jeweler and get you a ring before someone else beats me to it." He winked, his tone both teasing and tender.

"Shut up," I joked, giving him a playful slap.

This was actually quite amusing because after being together for eight years, Blake and I had never been in a rush to get married. We always said we would marry when the time was right. But standing here, holding Isabella's bouquet, it felt different. This was the first time I had caught...I mean, received the bride's bouquet. So it felt like a promise of a beautiful future.

A few minutes later, I told Blake, "My feet are killing me."

"Want to go upstairs?" he said, caressing my lower back, then giving me a wink.

I knew what he meant - he wanted to make love, and I desired him just as much. Especially after accepting his proposal, I really wanted him to pound me hard right now.

"But the party isn't over yet. What if Isabella needs help?" I hesitated.

"Darling, there are indeed a hundred workers here now," Blake said directly, sweeping me up into his arms, his voice thick with lust as he continued, "And right now, the person who needs attending to is me. My dick is so hard it's about to explode."

My fingers brushed against the hardness beneath his pants, and I could feel my core was already soaked! I couldn't help but moan.

"Don't worry, the hotel suite is nice and you can be as loud as you want later," he teased.

He spoke as he forcefully kicked open the door, then swiftly pinned me against it, ripping open my blouse so my breasts bounced free. He grabbed them, licking and sucking on my nipples with his tongue.

I moaned uncontrollably as his hands went to my skirt, bunching it up forcefully. The sound of ripping panties soon filled the air.

"Damn! You're soaked!" Blake growled, plunging his fingers inside me.

I moaned again, wanting more, tearing at his suit jacket. Suddenly, Blake's phone started ringing.

He was inclined to ignore it, but it persisted. "Shit!" Blake cursed, grabbing the phone. When he noticed the screen, his expression instantly darkened.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Honey, there's an emergency at the company I have to deal with," Blake said with a frown after hanging up.

I knew how important the company was to us, so I nodded, retrieving a fresh set of clothes for him as our earlier actions had left his crumpled.

Without asking, Blake swiftly dressed and hurried out.

But the very next second after he left, I noticed something on the floor.

As I stared at the piece of fabric on the floor, a crease immediately appeared on my forehead. My brain refused to process what I was seeing. I picked it up gingerly between just my thumb and forefinger.

A black lace thong dangled in front of my face.

"What the hell?" I muttered a curse. There were familiar stains on it, my face flushing hot - not from embarrassment or excitement, but from the anger boiling inside.

How could my boyfriend have a woman's panties in his pocket? I clenched my teeth, furious, about to charge after Blake's retreating back.

Eight years. Eight fucking years. Blake couldn't possibly be what I was suspecting. Was I really going to waste all those years over a misunderstanding? My chest felt tight, but I forced myself to take deep breaths. We were talking about Blake here. Cheating? That was too ludicrous.

I immediately thought of that phone call earlier. I grabbed a navy blue cocktail dress from my luggage so I would look more presentable if I ran into guests. I quickly brushed my hair and then rushed out.

When I reached the adjacent balcony, the entrance door was half open, so I peeked inside. The sight that greeted me made me dizzy. Blake's dick was inside another woman's vagina.

How could he do this? Just moments ago, his fingers had been inside me, and I felt sick instantly.

"I bet fucking next door to your fiancée makes it even more exciting," the woman said, her voice making me freeze again.

And the lady was none other than his married ex-girlfriend, Chloe! The same Chloe who'd left him when his family went bankrupt, while I picked up the remaining pieces of his life? My knees nearly gave out, and I had to lean against the wall to stay upright. A cold numbness spread through my chest, replacing the burning anger from before. How could Blake even do this to me?

When I met Blake at Harvard eight years ago, I was the rich girl who had everything, while he was the brilliant scholarship student with nothing but debt to his family's name. His father's bankruptcy had left them scraping by, but Blake never let it dim his ambition. When my parents died in that terrible car accident, he was my rock. He helped me through the grief and the complicated business matters that followed. I gave him everything; my trust, my love, my family's insurance payout to clear his family's debts and I even stepped back from running my father's company so Blake would take control.

All these years, I thought we were building something together..

"I can't actually believe my eyes right now," I scoffed.

Both of them froze when I walked in, but I didn't see any hint of shock in their eyes.

"So this is what you've been doing?" I shook my head at Blake."I can't believe I've been making a joke of myself all along. Eight years of fucking lies! You've been fucking your ex this whole time, huh?!"

I saw Chloe's mocking expression, but the one who betrayed me today was Blake. I glared at him furiously.

"Eva! Calm down-" Blake approached me, naked.

"You stay the hell away from me!" I snarled at him.

He raised his hands, then shrugged and said, "Come on, it's not that big a deal. You're not unfamiliar with the concept of an open relationship, right?"

open relationship? My stomach felt like it had been punched with nausea. "You disgust me," I said with revulsion.

"Hey..." He reached out to me again. "You're overreacting."

"Don't you even dare," I snarled.

Blake came closer to me, staring me down with a condensing smirk. "You know, you're luckier than Chloe. I actually have a thing for you, and I'll make you my wife soon enough so don't fuss like a child now."

My hands had been twitching the whole time he spoke, but shutting that disgusting mouth of his was the first thing I wanted to do.

I slapped him hard, cursing, "Asshole," before rushing out of there.

AVA

The last drop of whiskey dribbled pathetically into my shot glass, barely coating the bottom. I sighed. My head felt too heavy for my neck. I let the empty bottle clatter back on the counter, then slumping forward and resting my forehead on it.

This had to be a nightmare. The kind where you wake up sweating but grateful it wasn't real. These things happened in movies, and I've heard stories in real life. But never have I ever imagined that this would happen to me. Not to me. Not with Blake. Not after eight years.

I let out a muffled sob against my arm as tears slid down my cheeks. My chest felt like it was being crushed. It felt like my heart would never know how to beat properly again.

"Open relationship?" I repeated as his words floated into my head.

"That bastard!" My eyes welled up again, and I buried my face in my hands.

I was so stupid. Not only did I hand over all those dividends from my parents' insurance to him, but he was in control of my father's company. My inheritance, everything. Breaking up with him now would mean losing everything my parents worked for and left for me. I wasn't about to let him keep what rightfully belonged to me while he decided to betray me like that.

The bartender came and collected my empty glasses. I squinted at my phone to check the time but the numbers were blurring and doubling in front of my eyes.

"It's 12:20, ma'am," the guy said.

"Oh...thanks," I muttered, trying to stand up but the stool wobbled me back into a sitting position.

"Careful ma'am."

"I'm fine," I mumbled and flipped my hair back against my burning neck.

While my fingers for my wallet, the bartender asked if I was staying or leaving. I realized leaving would mean going back to that house- to Blake. The last thing I wanted to do right now was see his stupid face.

Swaying slightly, I looked up at the bartender.

"I need a room."

Soon, all the arrangements were made and I was handed the key. I made my way tipsily to the elevator. When I got inside, I squinted at the numbers, pressing what I hoped was my floor number.

I then stumbled down the hallway, squinting at the room numbers as they blurred in and out of focus.

When I found a door that looked like my room, I pressed the key card against the reader. The light kept beeping red everytime I tried. Frowning, I kept swiping, growing more and more frustrated. The alcohol wasn't helping my coordination, and I couldn't understand why the damn thing wouldn't work.

Grumbling under my breath, I pulled the card close to my face to try and figure out what was wrong. But then, the door opened and I stared at it funnily for a while before stumbling into the darkness. My alcohol-addled brain barely had time to register anything else before I felt something hard get pressed against my lower back from behind.

I froze.

I was drunk.but not so drunk I wouldn't know whatever was behind me, was a gun.

My heart leaped into my throat as a low voice behind me commanded, "Don't make a sound."

"Please...don't hurt me," I begged in a whisper, trembling.

I heard the door click shut behind me. The pressure of the gun disappeared from my back, but my body remained frozen in place. The darkness felt suffocating, and I could sense the presence behind me. I could hear his soft breathing in the silence.

I slowly turned my head to the side to catch a glimpse of my attacker.

"Who are you? What do you-"

The words died in my throat as his strong hands grabbed me, yanking me forward. Before I could realize what was happening, his lips descended hungrily over my mouth. The kiss tasted of expensive whiskey and something darker, more dangerous. My mind screamed at me to fight back, but my body betrayed me. I was responding to the passionate assault on my senses.

The stranger's hands dug into my hips as he pulled me against himself. In any other moment, any other night, I might have fought, screamed, or run. But the alcohol in my veins and the betrayal burning in my chest pushed me toward recklessness. I kissed him back with a ferocity that seemed to surprise him, my fingers roamed his bare body.

His height forced me to arch up, and when he groaned into my mouth, the sound vibrated through my entire body. I didn't care who he was. Didn't care about anything except the way his touch was burning away the memory of Blake's betrayal.

His hands slid down my thighs, and in one fluid motion, he lifted me. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he walked us backward, until my back hit what must have been a wall.

The scratch of his stubble against my neck as his mouth traced a burning path down my throat. The flex of muscles under my searching hands as I grazed his skin with my nails.

Blake. The thought of him only made me kiss this stranger harder, and bite his lower lip until he growled. I wanted to forget. Needed to forget.

It seemed like I cut off the chain around his neck in the process and I heard that deep, rich chuckle rumble from his chest.

He dropped me into the bed and then he followed me down. The moonlight filtering through the windows caught his silhouette, broad shoulders and strong arms caging me in. I couldn't make out his face clearly, just the glint in his eyes as he looked down at me.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered with rough desire.

The command in his tone made my skin tingle, but there was something else there too-restraint, control, power. This was a man used to giving orders.

"No," I breathed, pulling him back down to me.

He lowered his head to my neck, and the gentle scrape of his teeth made me arch up against him.

His hands below pushed my dress up my thighs and before I knew it, his finger delved right behind my panty, nudging his fingers against my clit while he kissed me. I moaned, clinging to him and wanting him to be anything but careful.

"Get my fucking clothes off," I commanded him.

I felt the instant reverence when he obeyed and pulled me up to reach the zipper of my dress, then he dragged it down.

The cool air hit my skin, making me gasp. He took advantage of that moment to capture my mouth again, swallowing the sound. His tongue swept against mine. I felt him taking off his pants too while I stayed bared to him, waiting; not feeling like the woman who'd just had her heart shattered hours ago.

His hands then came to hold my thighs, dragging me closer and spreading my legs wider as he leaned down into me. I threw my head back when his length stretched me slowly. I clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into hard muscle.

"Fuck!" I groaned when he slid deeper. "Yes.."

He began sliding in, out, and back in, holding me so tight I knew I'd have marks by morning. The pace began to increase and soon he was slapping hard into me while I jiggled with screams and loans I never wanted to stop. I kept seeing the flash of his eyes when he looked down at me with gentleness, yet pounding fast and hard. He knew exactly how to move, how to touch, how to push me closer and closer to the edge.

***

Early the next morning I was roused from sleep. My head throbbed, and as I blinked away the drowsiness. This was when I became aware of the warm body beside me. I recalled everything that happened last night and for some reason didn't seem to regret it.

I turned to look at the face of the menace I encountered last night while he slept.

Alexander Morrison?

I gasped silently, holding a hand to my mouth.

He was Isabella's brother. The well-known billionaire and head of the Morrison family. He was technically Blake's uncle-in-law through his father's new marriage. I tried to stifle another gasp as memories of last night flooded back. Oh god. I slept with Alexander Morrison.

I had no idea how I'd even ended up in his room in the first place. I slipped out of bed as quietly as I could and gathered my clothes. After dressing, I crept to the door with my heels in hand, opened the door and slid out. Only when I was safely in the hallway did I dare to breathe normally again.

I then looked up at the room number and realized what had happened. I'd drunkenly tried to enter his room last night when my assigned room was actually several doors down the hall.

ALEXANDER

Charles Montgomery, of all people?

I stopped myself from massaging my temple for the umpteenth time as I watched my sister dance with her new husband. There were several respectable men in our social circle, successful businessmen and accomplished professionals she could have chosen from. But she had to choose Charles, who I knew more than anyone else, was bad news. Everything about Charles screamed 'hidden agenda'.

But what could I do? Isabella was radiant with happiness, and after her first marriage ended so disastrously, I vowed to support whatever choice she made. I had to fly over from Singapore after postponing an important merger, just to attend for a few minutes before heading back.

I glanced at my watch. It had been barely five minutes since I left the wedding reception and I started feeling strange. There was an unfamiliar warmth riding up my neck, and spreading slowly like honey. My throat burned slightly with a sensation I'd never experienced even with the strongest of spirits.

Someone must have slipped something into my drink back here. I especially limited myself to a single glass of champagne for this same reason, but it ended up happening anyway. Why would anyone decide to drug me there? And who could it have been?

I tugged at my tie and pulled it off, coughing to clear my tightening throat.

"Pull over at the nearest hotel," I ordered my chauffeur.

By the time I looked out the window, everything had started turning blurry. I had to focus on keeping my composure until we reached our destination. We got to the hotel and I got to my room, falling into the bed as soon as I went in.

Johnson, my personal assistant, followed shortly with my bag. He watched me roll over to the edge of the bed while fighting to keep my body calm

"Are you alright, sir?"

I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so not in control of my own body. Heat rushed through my veins like fire, making my skin hypersensitive. Even the silk of my shirt felt abrasive against my flesh. My muscles tensed and released of their own accord, craving contact, movement, anything to relieve this maddening sensation.

I was tormented by a serious need to cling to something. Sex. It was all I could think about. It was the only thing I knew could help neutralize whatever it was that was firing through my system. Having to surrender to this drug-induced desire was repugnant to everything I stood for, but my options were quickly diminishing as the effects intensified.

I pressed the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger.

"Get me a girl for tonight. And make it.make it quick."

He understood immediately, rushing out and leaving me alone with the thundering of my pulse and the increasingly urgent demands of my body.

I had asked Johnson to be quick, but I hadn't expected him to send someone over as quickly as three minutes later. What I'd noticed, first of all, was a continuous beeping at my door, which indicated that someone was trying to get in. Within my line of work, I've been exposed to enough danger to know when exactly to get my gun close by.

I scooted over to where Johnson had dropped my things and picked out my gun, staggering towards the door. I stood behind it as the beeps continued, followed by murmurs.

Retreating further behind the door, I uncocked my gun and then opened the door slightly. Waiting.

Whoever was on the other side stumbled in, nearly tripping on her own feet. It was a woman. She reeked of alcohol and I could tell she was drunk, but on instinct, I still pressed the gun to her back just to get a reaction that would either lead my suspicions away or fuel them.

"Please.don't hurt me," she shrieked, shivering.

I couldn't see much, but I could tell the coast was clear. And for all I knew, Johnson must have found her and sent her over. Then that feeling returned, I couldn't hold it anymore. She was saying something to me, but I barely heard anything anymore as I pulled her close and kissed her hard.

I'd expected some passive acceptance since she seemed drunk, or maybe even some reluctance, but what I got instead was pure fire. She kissed me back with an intensity that matched my own desperate need. Her soft hands grabbed my shoulders with surprising strength.

Her body was exquisite. She had soft curves and smooth skin that felt like silk under my palms. But it was her responsiveness that truly captivated me, and the fierceness that came along with it. I remembered how free I felt chuckling against her lips when she mumbled something as she yanked my chain off my neck whilst I grazed her neck with my teeth.

The encounter was nothing like I expected and nothing like any encounter I'd had before. Sex I'd experienced was usually a calculated exchange. Women sought status or wealth and offered their bodies as currency.

Over the years, I'd been with countless women. Yet none of them had ever made me lose control like this. None had ever made me want more after the act was done. She just matched my rhythm perfectly. She anticipated all my moves and challenged my dominance so much that I wanted to play this game again. I was used to seduction but there was none with her. The way she bit my lip, the way her nails raked down my back, there was anger there. It was as if she had nothing to gain and nothing to lose.

Imagine how disappointed I felt not seeing her next to me by morning. I found myself staring at the vacant space on the bed for a while. I always left first. They never left first. This was the first time I'd be the one left behind.

Johnson entered shortly after knocking. He looked around the disheveled room before returning his eyes to me.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get you someone as planned. She called later to cancel."

He looked around the room again. "Seems someone else was here?"

"What do you mean? Didn't you send the girl from yesterday?"

He shook his head slowly. This was when I realized she must have come to my room by mistake. I should have realized it last night too, but my head was just too messed up to start addressing clues.

Later on, Johnson went to check the security footage of the hallway. It seemed like the woman stumbled towards my door around midnight. Her long hair was wild and disheveled so I couldn't see her face. It was so dark last night too, to recall what she looked like.

But I wanted her.

"Find her for me," I sold Johnson.

I had to make her my wife.