Brutally Beautiful

by Christine Zolendz

  My brother strutted in then. Man of the hour. Wearing thirty like it was some sort of trophy he competed for and won. His eyebrows shot straight up, as if he was actually shocked to see me. I guess he might very well have been, since I had only seen him a handful of times in the last few years.

  “You actually came?” he asked, stunned.

  “Nope. Not here at all,” I replied, a bit too harshly. Dealing with people wasn’t my thing. “Happy birthday.”

  A blonde woman, whom I recognized as the other waitress, and could only assume was my brother’s new girlfriend, Bree, bounced out from the back of the trailer and she and Lainey pushed us to sit as they placed food on the small table. Morgan didn’t help, I noticed. She sat herself down next to me, tall and regal, waiting to be served. For some reason, that messed with my head. I wanted it the other way around, with Morgan serving Lainey, and that messed with my head even more. I drank my wine in one enormous gulp, almost embarrassingly vomiting it right back up. When Morgan’s French manicured hand reached down into my lap and cupped my balls, I pushed away from the table to get the bottle of wine I had left on the counter. I was going to need a few more bottles to get through the night.

  Lainey was standing next to the tiny sink holding a steaming bowl of something. My mind tried to make it a bowl of wiggling maggots, but all I saw was fluffy delicate curls of pasta. Her eyes traveled over me and landed on mine. One beautiful soft eyebrow arched up at me questioningly.

  “So, Francine seems sweet,” I said. I was incapable of having a healthy normal conversation, wasn’t I? I wanted to goad her, and to bicker and fight with her. I wanted to get her angry and outraged. To offend her so harshly that her beautiful sweet features would show some sort of fucking expression other than the complete control that I lacked.

  Her eyes remained soft and delicate. Fuck, was that pity? Was that fucking pity she was looking at me with? “I wouldn’t know, Mr. Grayson. I haven’t tasted him yet. However, if I do get the pleasure of that, I will let you know how sweet it is.”

  I wanted her to be one of those characters I killed off in the first chapter; the stupid innocent beauty that follows the clichéd killer down his rabbit hole. I held the scene in my head for a mere second, before it blurred and changed into me bending her over my knee and spanking her bare creamy ass until she was pink and wet.

  The thought made me dizzy with want.

  Dinner was deplorable. Not only was the food absolutely unnaturally the most delicious thing I had ever eaten, I could not stop myself from staring at Lainey’s mouth the entire time she ate. The pure shade of pink was the natural hue of her lips. The full flesh of them as they pressed against her glass of wine. I tried to focus on a figurine that was sitting alone on one of the shelves. It was a sculpture of a human brain. Who the hell would keep that in their home? The need to walk over to it and crush it in my hands was so strong that I could taste the dust of the ceramic pieces as they floated past my own lips in my mind.

  Lainey’s green eyes kept meeting mine. Each time, her eyes would narrow and hold my stare. She didn’t fear me, didn’t back down. She was a complete contradiction to anyone I had ever met before. I smirked to myself thinking of her underneath me, the smooth skin of her legs wrapped around me, the burn of her nails as she clawed them down my back. Climbing over my body, riding me deep and fast, until my body convulsed inside her.

  My hand gripped my fork so firmly against the plate it bent at an awkward angle. Fuck. How was I going to explain that?

  Lainey gently pushed her chair back from the table and dabbed a napkin to her lips, “Anyone need more wine?” she asked, walking into the kitchen area, swaying her hips so sensually it could have killed me. Maybe it did, maybe it did kill me and this was my hell. My brain fogged up, hearing everyone around the dinner table talking but not being able to understand a word of it. My focus was completely concentrated on Lainey’s subtle movements as she went about pouring more wine. With her back to her guests, she filled her goblet and pressed the edge of it against her lips, sipping softly. Placing her glass back down, she reached up and swept all of her thick dark hair into a wild sexy bun at the nape of her neck. I was drowning, lost in a twisted sea of darkness.

  The smooth creamy curve of her neck against her dark skin made me clench my fists tighter, almost snapping the damn fork in half.

  Jesus H. Christ, what the hell is wrong with me?

  Then the darkness of her hair slipped over her shoulder as she turned her head, laughing at something somebody had said. And there, against the nape of her neck, hidden beneath the tumble of her hair was a dark tattoo. Give me your hurt. The tattoo above the elegant dress, against her ivory skin was an erotic mix of good and bad, heaven and hell, and I wondered what her story truly was. How had she come here? Why? Who hurt her? What was she running from? And, why the hell do I care?

  I wanted to hate her, break her, and keep her the hell away from my sick, twisted mind. But, there was no point in lying to myself, was there? Because I wanted a taste of her even more. I wanted her.

  I didn’t like not being in control. That wasn’t me. I needed out of here.

  I grabbed Morgan’s hand and yanked her up from the chair she was sitting on, still eating, apparently. She gave a little choked yelp as I tugged her to the door. “Well, thank you for a lovely evening. We have to be off now. Happy fucking birthday.” I slammed the ridiculous excuse for a door behind me and walked through the icy night to my truck.

  “Finally,” Morgan breathed behind me, her hands reaching out to grab mine. “I can’t believe we had to sit through that.”

  Ignoring her, I clicked open the locks on the truck, opened the driver’s side door and shoved her in past the steering wheel climbing in after her. Ramming the key in the ignition, I blasted the heat and grabbed for her waist, placing her on my lap, her dress hiked up to her bare thighs as they straddled mine. “Don’t talk, unless you’re telling me how hard to fuck you.”

  Morgan clawed at my face and kissed me hard. My hands were on her bare hips and I chuckled deep into her mouth; leave it to Morgan not to wear any panties so I would have easy access. I should have fucked her right at that dinner table. I should have done it just to see the look on Lainey’s innocent face while I fucked like an animal in front of her. The thought got me harder than I had ever been in my life.

  Morgan slid off me and unzipped my suit pants; my cock sprung free slapping against her hands. I wasn’t wearing underwear either.

  She fisted my cock with both hands, wrapped her lips around the head and started to pump and suck. “Fuck. That’s good,” I whispered, pressing the back of her head into me, gagging her. She hummed and moaned, vibrating her approval against my skin. I lessened the pressure of my hand and moved her head to the rhythm I wanted and rocked into her. Images of Lainey looking out the window, finding me fucking Morgan’s mouth in the front seat of my truck, almost pushed me over the edge. Pulling her mouth off me, I spun her around to face the windshield. She steadied herself against the dashboard and lifted her ass into my face as I yanked a condom out of my pocket, ripped through the foil with my teeth and rolled the fucker on. Then I slammed into her, making her yelp in surprise, then giggle and moan. I made her ride me fast and hard, pushing and pulling at her ass to get her to move fast enough for the feral fuck I wanted. I knew Morgan liked it hard anyway. That was why we played. She needed a man that wasn’t afraid to fuck her and I needed a woman that I could break if I needed to. I never thought about Morgan as I fucked her. She wasn’t real to me. It was like there wasn’t a woman attached to the pussy I pounded. All I thought about were the sensations around my cock. I felt her pulse and tighten around me when a small ivory hand pushed back the curtains to one of the windows in the trailer, and the thought of Lainey had me surging forward and coming so hard I saw spots before my eyes. Holy shit.

  “Get off me,” I grunted.

  Lainey’s big green eyes were in my head.

  “That little girl in t
here got you twisted up or something, Kade? You were staring at her like you wanted to devour her.”

  Rolling the condom off, I still felt the tremors in my cock, but fuck me if they were from Morgan. “Get out. I want to be alone.”

  She stepped out with pursed lips and slammed the door. I didn’t wait to see if she got in her car safely, she wasn’t mine to worry about, so I rolled out over the gravel drive and pulled onto the main road, tossing the full condom out of the window. Out of guilt, I’d end up texting an apology later, but she knew how messed up I was and she expected me to be a detached piece of shit to her, she got off on it.

  I tried focusing my eyes on the painted traffic lines that glided quickly beneath the hood of my truck as I drove purposefully in the middle of the street. Chuckling to myself, I turned off my headlights and sailed into the darkness, taunting death to meet me head on. Pressing my foot down lower, I increased my speed, wondering to myself if other people ever did this. Played with death, such as I did. I’m sure there’s a fucking fetish club for it that I could find online.

  Unfortunately, I got home unscathed.

  I ran right to my computer, opened a new document, and thoughtlessly titled it Green-Eyed Woman. My blood and soul poured through my fingers as they moved across the keyboard, raw and angry, chilling. The setting is a dinner party in a small quaint mobile home. Sprays and splashes of red wine and blood crashed violently against its cream colored walls as the massacre begins. The beautiful girl stared with wide green eyes as the world turned crimson around her, but she’s not scared. She’s fearless. Blood dripped from my fingertips as her pure unscathed lips touched mine, pulling the hate and anger away from my soul.

  Pure unadulterated raw sex emerged from the pages. Erotic touches, words, and violence twisted together to form an epic story of horrific proportions, with a sick tangled web of obsession and passion.

  I had never been afraid of anything in my life with the exception of one violent day from my youth, which completely changed the person I was then, to the empty shell, I was today. Since that day, I’ve kept everyone and everything away from me so I don’t hurt anyone with my wrath and my belligerence. But this girl, this woman, she was slowly captivating me, slipping the fear, the hate, and the rage away from me with her mysterious poise and calmness in my world.

  When the sun rose over the evergreens that surrounded my home, I had over fifty thousand words to my next book. I didn’t stop either, I couldn’t. My muse would not shut the fuck up. The obsession consumed me for days. The girl, I knew would be an obsession for longer. I wanted to scrape the words I’ve written off the white of the screen, grab them tightly in my hand and smash them against her face. Have her feel my words against her flesh, smear them into her pores, and have them seep into her skin.

  I needed to see her again. I needed her to hate me and to stay far away from me, because I wanted to consume her completely.

  Chapter 5

  Empty wine bottles and burgundy bottom stained glasses littered the trailer. Fran had tried to be a gentleman and attempted to help me clean after Dylan’s birthday dinner last night, but we didn’t get too far. From the moment Bree and Dylan slipped out of the door to sleep back at Dylan’s place, Fran’s hands were all over me.

  When his lips met mine, I felt like I was watching myself from a distance, trying to find some sort of feelings or something…some glimmer of want. But all I could think of was the life I’d run away from. How I thought I’d be able to delude myself into thinking that I could possibly date a man after what I’d been through was laughable to me. My body tensed up, a small whimper escaped from my mouth and I simply pushed myself away from Fran’s pawing limbs. My past was going to haunt my every kiss from now on, wasn’t it? Every time another man places his lips or hands on me, I’m going to cringe and wonder what it is he really wants to take from me, aren’t I?

  I did my best to compose myself and offered a silly excuse about getting to know one another better and cleaning, I had to clean. Fran, the gentlemen he was, understood and helped clean a bit, but I just called it a night, and when he gently asked me, I agreed to another date out of guilt.

  After he left, I had another miserable night of sleep, tossing and turning, nightmares pecking at my grey matter. Nightmares about blood and fists, hospital ceilings, dark shadows on city streets and moonless desert nights listening to explosions like music in the air. Nightmares about my brother. Nightmares about Kade and the way his dangerous eyes watched me during dinner, and the way I liked it.

  At eight in the morning, right in the middle of gulping coffee straight from the coffee pot, my phone buzzed and I groaned out loud. “I’m cleaning it up. I don’t need help, go back and snuggle with your Bucket of Yum, and relax,” I laughed into the phone, not even bothering with any hellos.

  Bree sighed on the other end and whispered, “The guilt is killing me.”

  “This isn’t about the cleaning, huh?” I asked, knowing full well it had everything to do with not cleaning.

  She whimpered into the phone.

  “My brother loved you more than anything, Jen. He’d want to see you move on and be happy. Michael’s been gone over a year and you deserve a little bit of fun and happiness. Please, just enjoy yourself.” I laughed loudly, “I mean don’t enjoy yourself, enjoy Dylan. Go. Have fun. And sex. Have lots of hot, dirty, nasty sex.”

  “I know you’re right, but…God, I have felt numb for so long. My body just shut down when he died, and now with Dylan I feel alive again.” She sobbed quietly into the phone and sniffled. “But, I feel like I’m cheating on Michael,” she whispered.

  “Honey, you’re not going to be able to have a future with anyone if you keep yourself in the past. What you and Michael had was beautiful, but he’s gone and you need to let yourself live. You never know what’s going to happen, just be happy and live for you, live for today. I’m not asking you to forget him, just let some other people in, that’s all.”

  “Michael and Dylan would have been friends. Great friends,” she whispered.

  “And, I bet he wouldn’t be able to pick a better guy for you to date,” I said.

  “You always say just what I need to hear. I’m glad we stayed close because I wouldn’t have been able to deal with losing Michael without you. I would have been all fucking alone.”

  “You’re like my sister. No, you are my sister, look at what you did for me. You ran away with me! You wouldn’t let me do any of this alone,” I replied.

  “I couldn’t, because you didn’t leave me. You’re the only family I have,” she sniffed softly.

  “I love you, sweets. I really do, and you deserve to be happy. Dylan makes you smile again. He’s a nice guy. Go and enjoy yourself for a little while. I’m not telling you to marry the guy, just have fun. No excuses; continue with your love fest please.”

  “Shut up,” she laughed. “I’ll be by later to get my bag for work. I forgot it last night. Love you and thanks, Sam…for everything.”

  Hanging up, I smiled at the state of chaos in the trailer. “Prepare to be cleaned, O-C-fucking-D style,” I laughed out loud, swallowing back the last remnants of coffee from the bottom of the pot.

  So, dressed in only my sleepwear, which consisted of a tiny black tank top that ended above my navel and a tight pair of boy shorts, I armed myself with a pair of latex gloves, broke out the bleach, my iPod and speakers.

  An hour later, the pungent smell of bleach and lemons filled the air and the place was literally sparkling. All of the dishes were washed, everything that was ever touched by human hands was disinfected and I felt brand new. I threw my gloves off and looked around. The only thing left to clean was the floors, one last time, so I raised the volume of the music and mopped to the beat of Raise Your Glass by Pink. Dancing around, I sang the words into the mop handle and tried to bust out some moves like I watched the girls do on stage at the bar. In front of the stove, I did one of those sexy stripper stomps in my white beat up chucks on my tippy toes, pr
etending they were stilettos. When I got to the couch, I flipped my hair around, squatted down into one of those spread eagle moves and slid myself back up, laughing, shaking my backside and spinning around the mop.

  “Um…Lainey,” Bree’s voice stammered, pulling my eyes up to hers at the door. She’d caught me doing a hell of a lot worse, so I felt no shame. Hell, we usually giggled and practiced these moves together. However, when I saw who was standing next to her, my stomach dropped and I yelped out a squeal of mortification.

  Kade fucking Grayson.

  Kade fucking Grayson got to watch me dance after all. Well, universe, you seem to be desperately trying to rain all sorts of shit down my neck, what next?

  Bree’s voice interrupted my arguments in the case of Universe vs. My Shitty Life. “I just came back to pick up my uniform and I came upon Kade here, looking at something very interesting to him through one of our windows,” she laughed. “I have to get to the bar, or should I stay here?” she asked, eyeing me and grabbing her workbag off the hanger on the door.

  Wait. What? He was watching me freaking dance while I cleaned?

  My mouth wanted to drop open. I was beyond humiliated, but there was no way I would let him know it bothered me. “I’m fine, Bree,” I answered, indifferently.

  “Ooookay then, enjoy whatever the hell you got going on here…” she said awkwardly, and walked out of the trailer.

  Slowly, I moved myself behind the small kitchen counter that separated the kitchen and other rooms, trying to block his view from me. “What are you doing here, Mr. Grayson?” A slow burn spread across my cheeks and heated my scalp as I stood, waiting for his explanation. He watched me dance?

  He moved around the counter closer to me. His intense stare lowered from my flushed cheeks down to my breasts, across my stomach, and lingered with heat on my bare legs before it traveled slowly back over my entire body again to my eyes. His look was dark. Sexy. Oh. My. God. It felt as if he licked me in one long slow stroke, up and down my entire body. Thanks universe, just crank the sexual tension up a few notches, whydon’tcha?