The Cruel and Beautiful Series Boxset

by A. M. Hargrove

  That night, I hold Jenna close as she slumbers. I’d loved her slowly, wanting to burn the experience in my mind. Here with her in my arms, I’m safe from the dreams that haunt me.

  At some point, I drift off. It’s not my imagined brother’s cries for help that carry me in the dark, but his laugh and smiles. When I wake, the pain isn’t gone, but there is hope that one day I’ll always remember the good that was him and not how much I failed him.

  That’s when I notice Jenna’s gone, and her side of the bed is cold. I get up and toss on a pair of shorts before following my nose to the kitchen.

  There, Jenna and Kym laugh as they cook bacon and other things my sense of smell clues me in to.

  “What are the two of you up to?” I ask, scaring Jenna as she jumps out of her skin.

  Kym smiles and winks at me. It has to be a good day if she can grin.

  “We’re making breakfast. What does it look like?”

  “Don’t you have work?”

  Jenna shrugs. “I’m going in late.”

  Moving around the counter, I nudge Kym playfully to get closer to Jenna. “You know cooking for me will be dangerous.”

  Her eyes narrow, which causes my grin to grow wider. “What are you saying? That my cooking can be a killer?”

  We all laugh because she realizes what she said.

  I lean in and whisper into her ear and let my hand slide from her lower back to her ass. “I’m saying I might never let you leave if you start cooking for me. You know what they say about how to get to a man’s heart.”

  She bumps me with her hip. “Who said I was going anywhere?”

  Breakfast makes us all late for work. I drop Jenna off at her place to pick up her car before heading into work.

  Dana’s at the front when I walk in the shop. A guy leans on the counter toward her as if he owns the place. She’s smiling, so I say nothing. I’ve only ever wanted the best for her, and that wasn’t me. Hopefully, this guy is.

  I push through the bay door, whistling. Dana’s not too far behind me, having ditched whoever. Too bad, I hope the guy has balls of steel. He’ll need it.

  “What’s up, boss?” Jeff asks, looking up from where he stands digging in a toolbox.

  Angling myself, I face the both of them. “I’ve made a decision.”

  Neither speaks, waiting for me to continue. Silently, I thank Lexa and her father. They came to me with an idea. Something that wasn’t completely new in my head, but with their concept, I have a mission.

  “I’m going to expand our business. We’re going to put this show on the road. We’ll be making house calls under the name Braedon’s. It may not be his dream, but I’ll make his kid part owner in the business. And our motto will be to work with a smile.”

  There’s so much more to the plan. In my gut, it feels right. Braedon, I think, his name on it would make him grin, loving the idea. His ego self would love the immortalization of his name.

  “I’m in,” Dana says.

  “Me, too,” Jeff agrees.

  Later that night, I show up at Jenna’s.

  At her door, I hold out my hand. “Let me take you out tonight.”

  I’d made use of her brother’s number. I called him earlier to ask where her favorite place to eat was. Shortly when we stand before it, she says, “How did you know I loved FIG?”

  “I’m just a smart guy. What can I say?” I wink.

  Holding out my arm, she loops hers around mine. We walk up to the maître d', where I give our names for our reservation.

  After we are seated, Jenna stares at me.

  “What?” I laugh.

  “You’re really stepping up your game.”

  Shrugging, I say, “If this is our first official date, which sounds stupid considering everything, I wanted it to be somewhere you’d enjoy. Someone might have told me it’s your favorite restaurant.”

  Her smile is nothing short of overflowing. “Now it’s time for me to say how much I don’t deserve you.” She holds up a hand to speak. “It’s true. I messed up.”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “We messed up.”

  Slender fingers cover my own, and I thread mine through hers.

  The waiter comes over and brings wine I preordered when I made the reservation so it would be ready. After he’s gone, I use my free hand to lift my glass.

  “A toast to new beginnings.”

  “And many more to come.”

  I wait until we’ve ordered to share the news with her. “I’m planning to start a new business. The one Lexa and I were supposed to do together until her father pulled out.”

  “That’s great,” she says with so much zeal, anyone hearing it would know how genuinely she meant it.

  “I’m planning to call it Braedon’s Place maybe. I haven’t figured that all out. But Braedon’s name will be on it.”

  I go on to tell her how I plan to name my future niece or nephew part owner.

  “That’s awesome. When do you plan to launch?”

  That’s something I haven’t figured out yet. “I don’t know. I have the capital to do it.”

  “You do?” she asks, sounding surprised.

  I’ve never talked money with Jenna. If her mother saw my bank account, it’s likely she wouldn’t think of me as just some grease monkey. I can take care of Jenna, maybe not as lavishly as Kenneth, but she would want for nothing.

  “Yeah, I guess some would call me a hoarder of money. I’ve been stashing some away with each paycheck since I got my first job. I just need some time to carve out a business plan that details all the things I’ll need. Even though I own the shop, I bought it from Will. This is the first time I’ll start something from scratch.”

  “I can help you,” she offers. “With the marketing at least. And Ben is a finance guy. I’m sure he can tell you the best ways to keep your money safe. And Cate’s an accountant.” She breathes. “Okay, I’m volunteering everyone, but I’m sure they would be more than happy to lend a hand.” Her smile turns shy. “Anyway, we can do this together.”

  Giving her hand a squeeze, I repeat the word, “Together.”

  All plans to spend the evening on the town go to shit. After dinner, we are at her place, clawing each other’s clothes off. She fights with my belt as I fumble with the buttons on her blouse. I yank at her skirt, pushing it down her legs. Her teeth find the flesh on my chest once my shirt is off, biting in, showing me her need. Desperate to have her, I bear her down onto the sofa, using my knees to spread her wide for me. Using my calloused hands that are hardened from years of work, I squeeze her breasts before claiming them with my mouth. Pressing my fingers between her legs, I work her until she’s practically floating above the couch. Only then I plunge into her.

  Groaning is my way of acknowledging that I’ve found my home, with her, in her, forever… her.

  Sliding in and out, creating sounds of slapping flesh, I drive us both over a rise and peak before we cradle together, damp with sweat.

  “I promise it won’t always be like this,” I say.

  “What? Are you crazy? That was incredible.”

  “But I hurt you.”

  I hadn’t exactly been gentle as I gave as much as I took.

  Her fingers claw down my back. “I’m sure you have some battle scars yourself.”

  My phone buzzes, alerting me it had been going off the entire time, but we’d been too frenzied with each other to stop.

  I get up, kicking off my pants in the process to get at my cell.

  “Hello.”

  The voice is so soft, I barely make out the words.

  “Don’t move. I’ll be right there.”

  I blink as I’m given further instructions and a tearful goodbye. Staring at the phone doesn’t change what I heard.

  “Who was that?” Jenna asks, clutching her shirt as if she’s prepared to go with me to hell and back if I wanted her to.

  Choking out the name, I say, “Kym.”

  “What’s happened?” she asks, rolling h
er legs off the sofa so she can get into an upright position.

  “Her parents are on the way to pick her up.”

  “Why?”

  “She lost the baby and says it will be too hard to see me. I’m a constant reminder of everything she’s lost.”

  Thirty-One

  JENNA

  Brandon works tirelessly at his shop and also getting the new mobile business up and running. To be honest, I’m more than a little worried about him. In throwing himself into the work so much, I’m afraid he’s not giving himself enough time to grieve for Braedon and to heal. Not to mention, the Kym thing. He insists he’s fine, but pain still bleeds into his beautiful clear blue eyes.

  One Saturday afternoon, late in the day after the shop is closed, we’re sitting around talking about his plans for Braedon’s On The Go. He has everything in order, from the truck that will travel to do the repairs, to the extra help hired for the shop, to the accounting, which Cate has graciously agreed to assist with. I’m finalizing the marketing and advertising campaign. I’ve set up a Facebook page, along with an Instagram account, and we’ve done some mail-out coupons for first-time users. I called my connection with one of the local TV stations, and she agreed to do a spot on the morning show featuring Brandon and the mobile truck. He was skittish about it, because he’s never been on camera before. But as I explained it, the women will be falling all over to get to that truck when they see him. He wasn’t too keen on that, but I reminded him of why he started this in the first place.

  Brandon stands and stretches, then leans toward me and says, “I owe you. This would never be happening without your help.”

  “It was your brainchild. You had it all here.” I tap my temple. “All I did was work with your plan.”

  “Yeah, but without you, I would be floundering.”

  “Pfft. You would not. Give yourself some credit.” I gesture over all the papers that lay on the table. “Look at this. Most of this is you. I only put it into action.”

  “And that’s exactly what I mean.”

  Suddenly, I laugh, as he stares at me with question marks in his eyes.

  “You want to know something?”

  “Yeah, I would love to.”

  “We make a great team,” I tell him. “Think on it for a minute.”

  He ponders my words, and he grins. “You are on point. We make a very fine team. Beauty and the brains,” he says.

  Giving myself a thumb in my direction, I add, “Yep, and I’m the brains.”

  He nearly spits out the gulp of water he just took. We both laugh. Then I move over and straddle his lap. “You are beauty, you know,” I whisper. “Only you think you’re too much of a man to admit it.”

  “I’m a brute, and brutes aren’t beautiful.”

  “You’re not a brute. You’re perfect. Damn gorgeous, actually. Just wait until you’re on TV. You’re going to have quite a fan club. Mark my words.”

  He puts his lips against mine and says, “The only fan I care about is you.”

  “Oh? I can assure you, there is nothing to worry about in that regard.” He kisses me. Deeply. Passionately. How did I ever live without this? His kisses are pure. Pure heat, pure lust, and pure desire. I get lost in them every single time.

  “Now?” he asks.

  “Yes, now.”

  He knows exactly what I want … need. Him … buried deep inside me, pumping into my depths, making me feel what only he can. My dress is shoved up, and somehow my thong disappears as he lifts me onto the table and spreads my legs wide.

  “I could stare at this all day.”

  “Well, I hope you do more than stare, because this pussy is in need of a good licking.”

  “It is, huh?”

  “And only you can provide that,” I say.

  “You’re damn right only I can.”

  Teasing Brandon is the biggest turn-on. I love to see the possessive side of him emerge.

  “No one will ever touch or see this but me. Understand?”

  “Yes, master.” I giggle because I can’t help it. One time I teased him about his Snap-on tools at the shop. That’s when he made me sit on the auto hoist and raised it up so he could go down on me. That’s when I started calling him master as a joke. I told him he was the master of his domain, and I was his domain.

  He certainly knows how to please me with that tongue of his because he does this special little move, and damn if I know what it is, but I call him the rabbit. He’s like a living vibrator. He can bring me to orgasm faster than any pocket rocket I’ve ever owned. When he’s finished, he lifts me up, only to sink down on his cock, his thick, long cock. His hands grip my hips, and he guides me in a motion and rhythm that has the pressure on all the right spots.

  “Don’t come yet,” he says.

  Holding back an orgasm is like stopping the tectonic plates from shifting and preventing an earthquake.

  “Okay. But hurry.”

  He stops moving.

  “What the hell, Brandon?”

  “Torture. I want this to last.”

  He nibbles on my lips, then my nipples. Of course, it’s torture. He sucks each nipple with gusto, and I moan as loud as if I were coming.

  “I could probably touch your clit right now and you’d come, wouldn’t you?”

  “Maybe,” I squeak. Hell yes, I’d come. “It’s all your fault.”

  Lifting me up, he spins me around and says, “Hold the table, and hang on tight. I’m getting ready to fuck every orgasm right out of you.”

  Oh, hell.

  He spreads my cheeks, and boy does he ever. The first slam has the air rushing right out of my lungs. Each breath I take coincides with every thrust of his. And they are glorious. One orgasm later, and he’s still going strong. My next one nearly buckles my knees, but he holds me up and instructs me not to let go. My hips are bruised from the punishing force he’s inflicting on me, but I wouldn’t change a thing about this. Every stroke of his cock goes deep inside me, and each of my inner muscles responds by tightening. When orgasm number three hits, I groan out his name and feel him contract inside me. Then his warm fluid fills me. Thank God for the pill. That’s all I can think of right now as I start to slide to the floor.

  Thick, strong arms wrap around me and pull me against a muscular chest. He sits down, and I land on top of him. Hot lips caress my neck before he turns me so we can face each other.

  “That was amazaboobs, master.”

  A deep rumble comes from within him.

  “I’m glad you were pleased, my queen.”

  I’m too weak to talk right now, so he’ll have to be satisfied with a smile.

  “Hey, sleepyhead, you still here?” Brandon asks.

  Raising my head, I say, “Oh my God. Did I crash?”

  “You did. But Brutus will do that to you.”

  “You know how much I love Brutus. I adore him.”

  Brandon kisses me. Only briefly. “Would you care to go out and grab some dinner? Your master is starving.”

  “You know, I’m pretty hungry, too.”

  “Hmm. Brutus wore you out, did he?”

  “He sure did. Let me get cleaned up. You know.” I point to my nether regions.

  “Want some help?” He waggles his brows.

  “Um, no. We’ll never get to dinner.”

  We close up the shop and head to town to eat. While we wait for our food, I tell him the questions for his interview from the TV station came in. I forgot to show them to him.

  “How many are there?” he asks.

  “I can’t remember, but they’re easy. Like, how did you get your start? What made you do it? Have you ever heard of this kind of business before? What kinds of things will you be doing from here since obviously not everything can be done from the truck? How long have you been in business? When I looked at them, they were things you could answer without much thought.”

  “Good, because I have to be honest, this TV thing makes me nervous.”

  “You will be awesome.
I promise,” I say, trying to reassure him. The thing is, Brandon never looks freaked about anything. That’s why I know he’ll pull this off with flying colors.

  He grabs my hand and says, “Jenna, did I tell you your mother called?”

  “The shop?”

  “No. She called my house.”

  Right now, I’m damn sure my jaw rests on the table. “What the hell did she want?”

  “I believe she’s trying.”

  “Trying what?” I snap.

  “Listen, Jenna. We both know how short life is.”

  Holding out my hand, I say, “Oh, no. Don’t. Please don’t go there.”

  “All I’m saying is no regrets. If something happened to her tomorrow, you don’t ever want any regrets. You know?”

  Leaning on the table, I rest my head in my hand. He’s right. And the thing is, I’m not a grudge holder.

  “Here’s my problem. She lied to me, Brandon. She didn’t apologize for that. She apologized because of what Kenneth said.”

  “When’s the last time you spoke to your dad?”

  “The day before yesterday, I think. We’ve been so busy with the opening, I honestly can’t remember.” God, I feel awful thinking it’s been even that long. After the almost-wedding-fiasco, I’d been talking to him on a daily basis.

  Brandon grabs my hand. “Why don’t you meet him for lunch this week?”

  I smile. “Yeah, that’s a great idea. I’d love that, actually.”

  “We have to keep our loved ones close. And to that point, we need to spend more time with Ben and Sam.”

  “Yes, you’re right. How’d you get to be so smart?”

  “I lost my brother.” The words are sobering. “Don’t be sad; it’s a fact. It makes you re-prioritize things in your life. So that’s what I think we should do. Family is crucial, Jenna.”

  I grip his hand with everything I have.

  “I love you, Brandon Connelly. What did I ever do without you?”