Beauty and the Brute

by Nikki Winter

  “More,” Noel rasped.

  She returned to riding her hand, her eyes heavily lidded and glassy now.

  “Give me.”

  Her digits grasped his cock again. Noel pushed her into doing this several more times. His chest heaved when her movements became frantic and needy. The hitch in her voice told him her orgasm was on the rise and he selfishly wanted to be inside of her when it happened for the first time. He could always let her have it alone and give her several more but there was nothing like the first. With Alana, the crest broke the hardest when she’d been denied for an extended period of time. He didn’t want to miss that.

  Driving one side of her loungers down her left leg, he boosted her up and let her feel the tip of him prodding at her entrance. “Want it?”

  She bobbed her head. “Please.”

  “Because you belong where now?”

  Her stare lit almost unnaturally. “On your dick.”

  A short snarl propelled him into slamming her down. The second her internal muscles feathered over him, he felt the difference and knew immediately that he’d forgotten something important. “Shit,” Noel hissed. He closed his eyes. “Forgot the condom.”

  “Do I have cause to be alarmed?” she queried calmly.

  He shook his head quickly. “Ardent practitioner of safe sex, darlin’. Didn’t want any unexpected surprises.” Condoms had been bought and used religiously since he was sixteen. Waynesville was not anyplace he’d wanted to be stuck.

  “Same,” Alana breathed. “Also, birth control. Every day. Without fail.”

  “Excellent.” He brought her up and then crammed her down again.

  Her hands slammed against his shoulders as she rode him fast and hard, taking him as deeply as her body would allow. Noel palmed the halves over her ass and nosed her shirt aside so he could bury his face between her bouncing tits as he leaned her backwards and rested himself on the verge of the loveseat for better leverage. Her groans turned into sporadic cries that bordered on half-sobs before getting mingled with his name and God’s.

  The scent of sex, coconut lime body wash and sweat teased his nostrils, motivating the animal in him to move under her harder. The slap of skin, partially muffled by cloth, left him breathless and Alana’s call of his name on a long stretch before her pussy spasmed made Noel close his mouth against a sound that was—in no ways—masculine.

  She drained his cock dry and their wheezing exhales were all that were left in the room beneath the low hum of music still spinning. He swallowed and went backwards, bringing her with him.

  “Well,” Alana stated in a hoarse tone. “Perhaps I did need a break.”

  Noel huffed out a laugh. “You think?”

  Her shoulder rolled. “Meh. Better than cow tipping. Still a fan of the Macho Man tattoos though.”

  He simply closed his eyes and chose to ignore her. The things this woman said…

  Ten

  Appearances. Noel was beginning to despise that word. Because he was reminded of it; he was consistently, incessantly, reminded of appearances. Particularly that of his and Alana’s. There was such a thin line resting between his willingness to keep things quiet for privacy’s sake and complete annoyance at the prospect of always having to watch his hands with her when they were in public. How many times had he wrestled with her demands, only to realize her desires were based solely on her need to not be seen as a hypocrite? She’d told him before that she’d constantly turned down invitation after invitation from the clients she worked with until him. It only took him three years but, he’d finally worn on her resistance and all for what exactly?

  Alana demanded almost nothing from him. She didn’t press. She never pressed for…anything. There were no hints at serious commitment or passive aggressive comments over breakfast about how her lack of closet space made it harder for her to spend the night. No, she gave him none of that. And when she did spend the night, she brought a bag along that she neatly packed away the next morning, never leaving even one item behind. Noel should’ve been happy. He should’ve been ecstatic at the prospect of having a girlfriend who seemingly had no designs on nailing him in place for the rest of his days; taking away the freedom he’d come to love so passionately. Instead he was strangely disappointed. Because he had the honest to God feeling that she saw an end to this—to them. Too afraid to ask, lest he find himself back at square one, he kept his concerns to himself. But with every passing day, her aloofness only seemed to grow. There was a wall there. An elephant in his home, his bedroom, her bedroom and everywhere in between. He’d rather risk the goddamn thing’s wrath than to keep choking down this whiney inner voice that complained every time she blew him a kiss on her way out of his front door. What the fuck had happened to him? What the fuck had happened to his need for space? His casual independence?

  She had. Alana and her encouragements that they run together in the mornings,. Her puzzle like fit into his group of friends. Her quips and mouth. Her crazy obsession with shawarma and secret love for imported beers. The woman was a conundrum. He hadn’t figured her out in the least, no matter how hard he dug.

  When training camp had begun, she’d made the commute to Delaware several times a week just to spend his off time with him, claiming that it gave her an opportunity to check in on her younger brother Alexander—who she’d happily introduced him to. Said younger brother had given him a narrow eyed once over and said, “I’m smaller than you so the likelihood of my actually harming you with my hands alone is slim. However, I know several other men my size who will assemble like a fucking Power Rangers Megazord should I ever deem it necessary to beat the sports talent out of you. Don’t fuck up, country and your concerns from me will be nonexistent.”

  It was probably one of the better introductions Noel had experienced. Normally, he couldn’t be bothered to care what the family members of his temporary flings thought of him and yet, Alexander’s opinion mattered. It mattered because he knew it had bearing on what Alana thought of him. He couldn’t help but feel that the warning had come from more than a simple place of protective younger brother. The intuition that Alana had been hurt before—marred by someone else’s actions—wasn’t inaccurate, that much he knew. It was the way she behaved. She never made assumptions about them. She never expected to stay over. She never expected to have lunch with him. She never expected that he’d like to catch a cheap matinee with her on a night that neither of them really wanted to be without the other. Sitting on the back row and catching popcorn in their mouths while trading gummy candy and chocolate had become a habit. But it was the way she curled her fingers around his own on the short walk back to her apartment that never failed to make his breath shorten. It was the way she mocked his accent when she was losing an argument about the sports that always brought the most resistant grin to his face. It was the way that she’d placed a ticket to her graduation ceremony in his hand and shyly told him that she understood if he couldn’t make it that had left him speechless for a second before he’d kissed her senseless. He’d been a row behind her brother and parents that day, catching the elation on her face when she glanced into the crowd and spotted him.

  They’d celebrated later in ways that made his ears hot when he replayed them. And now, here he was, questioning if she’d show her face tonight at an event that he’d had in the works for months—a charity ball where plates were going for a minimum of three hundred dollars. At a little over two hundred and fifty guests in total, he’d raise more than enough for the cause of his choice before the black tie party was over. There was just one thing missing in the midst of his philanthropy: Alana. He’d told her that it was completely her choice whether or not she came, no pressure. He should’ve told her that there was pressure, lots of pressure. It may have helped to stem some of his goddamn anxiety.

  A huge hand clapped him on the back and years of practice kept Noel from sprawling onto the floor in tears. He glowered at Ashleigh. “Must. You. Do. That?”

  The other man nodded, a s
mall plate full of hors d’oeuvres in his opposite hand. “I like it when you wince; makes me feel powerful, intimidating.”

  Noel eyed him. “You tell me anything even remotely homoerotic after that statement and I’m going to enter you as a contestant for the next season of ‘Dancing With The Stars.’”

  Ashleigh blinked. “We’re grown men who run around in spandex, standing behind one another and yelling about the passing of a ball that looks like an oddly shaped, ethnic testicle. What about our career doesn’t scream homoerotic?”

  Mouth twisting, Noel looked off. “Goddammit. I really fucking hate it when you make valid points.”

  “That’s my role in this life. I choose to accept it. And can I steal your chef?”

  “It’s the crab puffs, isn’t it?”

  “Incredible mouth feels,” Ashleigh told him around a bite.

  “We have to talk about your obsession with ‘Bob’s Burgers’.”

  “I won’t give it up. That show is amazing.”

  “Probably because the youngest child reminds you of Ari.”

  “I will neither confirm nor deny such an accusation.” His friend glanced about. “Heard from Alana?”

  Noel shook his head and sighed. “Not yet.”

  “She’ll show.”

  He blew out a hard exhale. “Maybe.”

  “Have more faith in she of the endless legs.”

  “Stop calling her that.”

  “Never. I have knighted her as such and that is how she’ll remain.” He scanned the crowd again and released a low whistle. “I’m seriously considering trading in my agent for yours.”

  Noel knew Ashleigh had caught sight of Nyssa in a dress that had been made to drive anyone attracted to the female form absolutely insane. An illusion gown, it was cut perfectly to her figure, black lace hiding her most sacred places while giving a tantalizing view of the bronzed skin beneath. Naturally enthralling, she’d clearly put a lot of thought into the impression she wanted to leave tonight. It was all for naught though, considering that she’d be leaving with one man and one man alone. Said man was broodingly watching her from a corner on the other side of the room with murder in his eyes.

  “Pretty sure your father would have an indiscernible amount of problems with that choice,” he finally answered.

  Ashleigh grimaced, his lip curling slightly. “Of course he would. Can’t unbalance things by cutting the puppet strings, now can I?”

  The urge to comment was shoved away. Noel could weigh in on Matthew Thyne but he’d only be pouring salt on a deep enough wound so he did as he’d always done and changed the subject. “When is Ari’s next visit? I need someone to help me plan a grand heist.”

  His friend snorted. “It’s my turn to make the trip. I promised her we’d finally do some horseback riding; something that she is thoroughly convinced shouldn’t happen without Mackenzie.”

  “And you have a problem with this because…?”

  “Never said I did,” Ashleigh denied, suddenly interested in the tips of his shoes. “I just have to wonder if our spending time together like a family again will confuse her.”

  “Her or you?” Noel ventured.

  “I’ve never been confused,” came the murmured reply. “I wasn’t the one who left.”

  “In all this time, you haven’t even considered following?”

  Ashleigh rolled his shoulders. “She has another man’s ring on her finger. I’m almost positive that’s a sign that she’s done here.”

  “Ash—”

  “I’m going to get more crab puffs,” the other man said abruptly, turning and walking away.

  Noel sighed. There was literally nothing worse than watching two adults play tug-a-war with their emotions. Tiring didn’t even begin to describe it. Looking away from Ashleigh’s retreating back, he returned his attention to Sansone who had stopped his brooding and was now definitely headed towards Nyssa with the intent of stripping the skin off of an overly friendly associate who was chatting her up.

  Crossing the room, Noel reached the man before he could take another step in her direction and grasped his shoulder, halting him. “These rugs made me weep when I saw the price tag. If you stain them with someone else’s gray matter, I’ll be forced to make you weep.”

  Snorting, Sansone turned his gaze away from Nyssa and looked to Noel. “You do know I’m the reason you were even able to buy them, right?”

  Noel squeezed Sansone’s shoulder briefly before letting go. “And I do so appreciate your efforts to keep me whoring for your amusement, but you can’t commit homicide here. I just had the place renovated.”

  “You don’t whore, you play games and win…then I promote you and get money from it… Ah, wait, I see why you would think you’re my whore.” Sansone purposely ran a fingertip down the side of Noel’s face. “But Daddy treats you good, doesn’t he? Lets you get pretty things?”

  Bursting into laughter, Noel slapped his hand away. “There’s something severely wrong with you.”

  Sansone tipped his flute towards him and took a sip. “You’d be right, my friend. She’s across the room right now.”

  Noel smirked. “She’s what’s right with you, asshole. I just can’t figure out why you won’t get it together already.”

  “It’s not for a lack of trying.” Sansone sighed.

  “So you didn’t try to stop her from showing up in that?” he pushed, gesturing to Nyssa’s gown.

  “I didn’t know,” he ground out as someone else with a too-bright smile placed a hand at the middle of her back.

  “An unfortunate oversight, my friend.” Noel looked around. “Hey, uh…Alana didn’t show tonight, did she?” He hoped that wasn’t as obvious as it sounded. It probably was. From the knowing light in Sansone’s eyes…yeah, it was.

  “Why do you ask?”

  He nonchalantly and took a sip from the crystal tumbler in his hand. “No reason. Just curious.”

  Sansone looked as though he were fighting laughter.

  Noel looked past him and focused in on Nyssa again. Her expression was…strange. As though she’d seen leaked nudes of George Lopez. “Er… Sunny?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I don’t pretend to know all of Nyssa’s expressions but I am most definitely sure that particular one reads ‘Get me the fuck out of here. Now.’”

  Frowning, Sansone glanced back to where she stood. He stiffened and then strode away quickly.

  Noel watched him reach Nyssa and whisper in her ear. Whatever he said received a brisk nod and then the pair disappeared. He took just a bit of comfort in knowing that he wasn’t the only one suffering because of a woman tonight.

  What was she doing? Alana had been asking herself that for weeks and still hadn’t managed to come up with an answer that even remotely made sense. She’d been the cynic for years now, snorting at the prospect of anything being inexplicable; mocking the thought that one could be willfully oblivious to what was happening around them outside of their relationship. Noel, their relationship, had diluted that pessimism. Fighting to keep a hold on her doubts, she’d convinced herself that this—whatever it was—would extinguish itself in no time. It had to. Because she’d rather not hope. Hope was a nasty infection that she wanted no parts of.

  So, again, what was she doing? She didn’t know. Alana honestly had no idea but it felt right; it felt entirely too right. Everything they did together, every moment spent alone, nudged past her defenses just a bit more until she was watching the way his lips quirked further on one side than the other when he grinned. Until she noticed that he had to separate everything on his plate during dinner so that nothing was touching. Until she noticed how he gave her that look while obviously remembering some filthy anecdote he’d dropped in her ear earlier in the day.

  They were…friends. She and Noel had become friends. Picking up on cues in body language, in subtle words, and simple smiles. He made her break from workloads to do the most senseless things like dance. He asked questions about her childhood. T
he man had done her laundry. Her laundry! How was that a thing? She couldn’t even be bothered to complain about his handling of her delicates because really, who enjoyed doing their own laundry? It was all so surreal. And she was so confounded.

  Men like Noel didn’t care this much. They didn’t pay attention to details. They didn’t have to. Worth millions, gorgeous and ridiculously charismatic? No, struggles with the opposite sex did not occur. It seemed against the man’s religion to be anything other than provocative. And yes, it was still annoying. That drawl and his weapon of mass vulva destruction had obviously made her dance away from practicality. Once upon a time, Alana had been all about the practicalities, her own plans and wants. Yet now all she could mull over were his plans and wants. Sick. She was very, very sick.

  The fact that Alexander had developed a grudging respect for Noel upon meeting him only seemed to unnerve her more. Her brother wasn’t one for ramming his horns against those of other males. However, he knew how to intimidate. Once done, he usually left his silent glares to do the work for him but with Noel, he’d given one warning and then moved on to discuss the dorkiest subjects that Noel had happily engaged him in. And it wasn’t just a friendly indulgence. Oh no, the pair had gone back and forth on things that she couldn’t spark an interest in if someone was holding a semi-automatic to her temple. It just wasn’t in her.

  She hadn’t bothered with the preliminaries of introducing him to her mother and father formally. There was no point when the couple couldn’t be bothered to step away from their years of self-absorption to even attempt playing the concerned parents of their eldest and only girl. Her graduation ceremony hadn’t been full of anticipation for their doting but his. He’d even gone through the trouble of hokey ‘Congratulations’ balloons and flowers along with a singing teddy bear and a card. So elementary and it still made her slip her panties off later and hand them to him in the middle of a restaurant. He caused her fearlessness and that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.