The Law Of The Beast: A Bad Boy Romance

by Carter Blake

How could I have been so stupid? So careless?

  My camera bag is slung haphazardly over my shoulder, all the zippers not even done up tightly, and I’m pushing my way through the throngs of people on the sidewalk, trying to get as far away from the police station as possible before the veil of tears start to fall.

  Too late. What were once hot, molten tears brimming heavily in my bottom eyelids, now have overflowed into abstract streaks of mascara-tinged emotion dripping from my jaw onto the sun-warmed concrete below.

  He ran you through the system. Did a background check on you. Found your family secrets like they were his to unbury.

  I feel betrayed.

  And yet, you were too busy letting him suck, lick, and fuck you to realize that he was eyeing you up like some kind of criminal.

  The tears fall from my eyes so fast that I can barely see through my blurred vision. Sobs wrack my body, making my shoulders bob and tighten with each gasp for breath.

  “Fuck…” I mutter in a choked voice. “Fuck!”

  A woman in a blazer and pencil skirt scowls at me as I pass her. I turn away, humiliated that I’m not only letting Dominic Kerr embarrass me in front of the police department, but that I’m now allowing him to embarrass me even when he isn’t around. Hell, and I’ll probably never get another freelance gig from SKB Productions again, seeing as I just walked out on this one.

  “Fuck!” I exclaim, wiping my eyes. How did something that seemed so right in heat of the moment and the shadows of the moonlight suddenly become so utterly, irrevocably wrong?

  To hell with you, Dominic Kerr.

  I turn the corner hastily, trudging down the sidewalk with no concept of where I’m even going. Even in my absolute state of emotional upheaval, I know better than to head back to my apartment. Away from the precinct, that’s the only place I need to be. Away from Dominic. I’ll head back to the bus stop, take the first bus back to the depot…

  Away from the precinct.

  You can’t hide in that police station forever.

  A prickle of sudden cold fear races down my spine, and I whirl around to look back in the direction I’d come.

  I come face to face with the most familiar green eyes, so similar to my own except that they convey more ice and ruthlessness than mine ever could.

  “Dad.” The word falls from my lips in a hushed whisper, as though it’s a foreign curse word I’ve only learned and am prohibited to say.

  One quick shove has me tripping over my own feet, falling onto one knee in an attempt to stay upright.

  “Hello, Addison.”

  He slaps me hard, and my cheek burns with the sting of the impact. In my haste, I struggle to stand again and duck behind the rusty dumpster in the alleyway he’s pushed me into. But my choice to put the dumpster between us as a barricade only puts me further from the sidewalk.

  “Scream, and I’ll shoot you.”

  It’s been at least two years since I’ve seen my father, but he looks older than I ever thought possible. Haggard, somehow. Prison wasn’t kind to him, and that’s something he’ll always blame me and my damning testimony for.

  His empty, dead eyes haven’t changed a bit. No emotion is revealed in them, save for the abundance of hatred and revenge he harbors toward me.

  And I believe him.

  He will shoot me, whether I scream for help or not.

  But be damned if I’ll take other innocent people with me.

  This is my war. No one else’s.

  So, I stand there, silent, and I watch him.

  Gun raised, and eyes sharp with intent, a frightening smirk spreads across his stubbled face. “No last words, daughter dearest?”

  I’m using every ounce of strength I’ve got to keep the rising panic within me buried. I refuse to show him fear. After over a year of running from him since he was released, of living in fear of this moment, he found me anyway. It was inevitable, and I know that now. But I refuse to give him what he wants.

  I won’t beg and plead for my life. My mother did exactly that, and it didn’t help her. And I sure as hell won’t fear him.

  “You’re a coward,” I spit out.

  He arches a brow, tilting his head curiously, but the smirk he wears never fades. “You’re as stupid as your mother was.”

  “The only mistake I made was being scared of you, Dad.” I stand taller. “I should’ve told them everything. Your drug deals, the people you—”

  He lunges forward, pushing me back hard against the brick wall. I hiss when my head smacks against it, and hold that breath in when I feel the cold metal of the gun digging into my chin. “Oh, Addy. But you knew, didn’t you? You knew, and you didn’t tell. Because you know what that means, right? Because it means you’re just as much to blame as I am, even though I was the one pulling the fucking trigger.” His smile widens.

  “I was just…a kid!” I choke out, my vision still blurred from the impact of hitting the wall.

  “Old enough to know better.”

  “I want to know why you killed Mom,” I blurt out, seeing his eyes flit toward the direction of the sidewalk. The dumpster is taller than I am, blocking any hope I have of anyone seeing me. If it’s the last thing I hear, I want to know why he took my mother from me.

  Something in his eyes changes. If they were cold before, they were now completely void of…anything.

  “For the same reason I’m going to kill you.”

  He raises the gun in one fluid movement, and the gunshot goes off, deafening me.

  Then, all is silent.

  Chapter 12

  DOMINIC

  I’ve shot many people during my career as an officer. More than I care to admit to.

  But none of those people had a gun to the head of the woman I’ve fallen for.

  In two days, Addison Kent has turned my world on its axis.

  That’s why, when I came around the corner of that alleyway dumpster and saw her father raise that gun to her head, I didn’t flinch.

  I pulled the trigger.

  Not a maiming shot to the back of the knee just to wound him. I aimed for his head, over the dumpster, and I’m a damn good shot.

  The man was dead before he even hit the ground.

  “Addison?” My gun is still pointed at him as I sidestep around his unmoving body to get to her.

  She’s wide-eyed and still.

  My heart plummets at the thought that she’s now watched both her parents die.

  “Addison,” I say again, this time a bit more assertive, trying to measure her current cognitive capacity.

  Her eyes are staring incomprehensibly at the body in front of her. “He…he was…”

  “It’s okay. You’re safe now.” It’s all I can do to keep myself from wrapping my arms around her and pulling her to me. The backup I called in would be arriving within seconds.

  Addison suddenly looks up at me, as if she’s only just realized that I’m there. “Dominic?”

  “Hey…” I can’t help it. I lower my gun, and reach my empty hand out to pull her gently away from the wall. Wedged into the corner of the wall and dumpster like that, she looks suddenly so small, so fragile. It does something to me. “You’re okay,” I reassure her softly.

  She lets me guide her around to the other side of the dumpster, closer to the sidewalk and away from the crime scene. A small crowd of onlookers has formed.

  “Nothing to see here. Move along.” I give them all a withering look, and the crowd quickly disperses.

  “How did you know…I mean, I didn’t...” Addison’s hands begin to tremble. Shock is setting in, and I squeeze her hand in mine.

  “I’m a cop, Princess,” I whisper, giving in. I pull her to my chest, wrapping my arms tightly around her. The relief I feel at knowing she’s safe is all-consuming and irrational, but fuck it.

  And fuck the officers that come around the corner and stare at me as I hold her against me as if my own life depends on it.

  “How?” She asks again, melting against me.

 
; “After you told me what he’d done, and where you were from, I cross-matched what little I knew with information I got from…well, it only took a few calls to a few detectives I know in New Hampshire. The case was public, Addison; it wasn’t hard to figure out. And the phone number he called you from was in the incoming call history on your phone—”

  “You took my phone?”

  “This morning,” I admit quietly. “I’m sorry, but I—”

  “Saved my life.” She looks up at me, and I see the remnants of the tears she cried earlier. There are fresh tears brimming atop her lower lids now, but the anger is gone.

  And so is the fear she’s been laden with since I met her.

  “You saved me from the only thing I’ve ever feared, Dominic.”

  A small, crooked grin forms on my lips, meant only for her. “You’ve done the same for me.”

  Her forehead scrunches, not understanding.

  “Until you walked into my office yesterday morning, the only thing I feared was commitment. I wasn’t one of those guys. I’ve been married to my work, and that was good enough for me. Then I saw that bastard with a gun to your head. In that moment, the only thing I feared was losing you…before I even had you.”

  Her eyes glisten, and she sucks in a breath. Her words are barely a whisper when they fall past her lips. “You’ve got me, Dominic.”

  “Right back at you, Princess.” Then, I lower my face to hers and kiss her without giving the officers or our surroundings another thought.

  Because they don’t matter.

  Addison is safe. And her nightmare is over.

  That’s all that matters.

  Epilogue

  SIX WEEKS LATER

  ADDISON

  “I still can’t believe you agreed to this,” I chuckle, standing at the bottom of the concrete stairs that lead up to the banquet hall.

  “It’s your big break. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I turned you down?” Dominic grins.

  He looks absolutely delectable in a pinstriped dress shirt and gray dress pants. The dark blue of the shirt makes his bluish-gray eyes shine, and I find myself staring at him without even realizing it.

  “It’s your big break, too,” I laugh.

  “The things I do for you…” His hand snakes around my waist, and he leans down to kiss me gently.

  “We can still go home, you know.”

  Dominic’s mouth hovers over my ear. “If I take you home now, that dress won’t last five minutes before it’s in a heap on the floor, Princess.”

  I close my eyes and try to rein in the wave of lust that overwhelms me. Even after six weeks, the mere whisper of his breath on my earlobe causes a pool of liquid desire with me. It’s like nothing I’ve ever known.

  He’s like nothing I’ve ever known.

  “Promise?” I breathe.

  “If I don’t take you in the broom closet of this place first.” And just like that, he pulls away from me and clears his throat, adjusting his mind, body, and thoughts to the respectable police chief he’s supposed to be. He gently pulls me by the hand up the stairs, and a doorman holds the glass doors open for us.

  I allow him to lead me through the corridor in a daze. This is something I’ve waited for my entire life, something I should be relishing in. But all I can think of is getting this man back to our apartment and showing him what he means to me.

  At the interior doors that lead into the banquet hall, I stop. I’m dressed in a beautiful black satin gown with an amazing pair of red stiletto heels that match the shade of my lipstick, and my auburn hair cascades down my back in flowing waves. But no one is even going to notice.

  Because of the gorgeous man beside me.

  “All eyes are going to be on you, Dominic.”

  “Maybe, but it’s because of your talent that they’ll even recognize me.”

  Three weeks ago, tucked in together on his leather couch, with only a glass each of bourbon and the darkened cityscape blinking back at us as we cuddled, I revealed to him the final edited photographs that I’d taken of him. I can’t deny it; those pictures are some of the best work I’ve ever done.

  But I had a damn fine subject to work with.

  Each photo depicts his tattoos and his perfect, muscular body in such an way that not only does the series of shots ooze sexuality and intrigue, but they boast the allurement of New York City and the raw beauty of those that live in it.

  The man within those photos not only lives in the city used as a backdrop, but he also serves it, protects it…and watches over it.

  The photos portray the relationship between man and city; he is a part of it, just as much as it is a part of him.

  And after I admitted that I dreamed of a day where I no longer had to rely on short-term freelance gigs to make my way, he surprised me by encouraging me to submit those photos to a few magazines and photography studios I’d be interested in working for.

  Never in a million years could I have imagined the bidding war that ensued.

  Now, here I am, standing outside the doors of the ceremonial unveiling of those photographs, and my formal introduction to the company as the new design editor and chief photographer for City Ink magazine. They bought the entire series for more money than I make in an entire year.

  “Besides,” Dominic’s voice brings me back to the here and now. “My eyes are going to be on you.”

  I have my dream job.

  And my dream boyfriend.

  I hate that word, boyfriend. It’s seems like such a juvenile description for someone like Dominic Kerr. He is the embodiment of all that I deem strong, safe, and stable in the world.

  He’s more than a boyfriend.

  He’s mine.

  “I’d rather the rest of you be on me, too,” I grin. “Let’s do this.”

  Dominic reaches out for my arm gently, preventing me from pulling the banquet hall doors open. “Wait a sec…”

  I watch him in confusion as he pulls me away from the doors and ushers me around the corner away from the prying eyes of the doormen and incoming guests. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  He clears his throat again, looking suddenly nervous. A shiver of wariness courses through me at the sight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look nervous or uncertain about anything in the time I’ve known him.

  “I was hoping that, since the rest of me can’t be on you,” he smirks faintly. “That at least this could be.”

  From the depths of his pocket, he pulls out a small silver box and holds it between us.

  My eyes widen and I gasp. No. It can’t be.

  “Dominic?” I can barely speak, but my question is clear.

  My surprise only urges him on, and his little smirk widens as he leans in close to me. “I’m the one asking the questions here, Princess,” he whispers.

  “B-but—”

  He opens the box to reveal an absolutely breathtaking three-carat princess-cut diamond ring in a white gold setting. “Addison, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  My hands come up to my face, covering my mouth and muffling the gasp that escapes my throat.

  Oh my God. “I…I mean…we’ve only known e-each other—”

  “Long enough for me to know you’re the one I want, Princess. We haven’t exactly taken things slow with other aspects of this relationship, so I figure, why wait to make you mine?”

  I stare at him. Part of me wants to cry a river of ridiculously happy tears. The other part of me is already mentally searching for that broom closet he mentioned earlier. “Oh, Dominic…”

  “Is that a yes?”

  I chuckle just as the tears begin to spill over my eyelids. “That is definitely a yes.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  He slides the ring onto my trembling hand, and I waste no time in throwing myself toward him and wrapping my arms around his neck. “I love you so much, Dominic.”

  “And I love you, Princess.”

  He is mine.

  And I am his.

&
nbsp; We belong together.

  And that’s all that matters.

  Read the first three chapters of The Nanny and the Beast

  Chapter 1

  Lucas

  “Who the hell is Eliana?” I shout into the intercom to my secretary when I scan my day’s agenda. I just have a note in my diary: Meeting with Eliana, 10 a.m., with a goddamn smiley face next to it.

  If I could get help—any help—in this office, I would be a fucking trillionaire, rather than a billionaire.

  “I am,” a feminine voice says, making me look up.

  Shit.

  At first glance, the woman looks like a typical all-American college student, dressed in a baggy Notre Dame sweatshirt and a pair of old jeans. Nothing special, until my gaze lands on her face.

  She’s gorgeous. Not the typical runway-model, I-only-eat-salad-with-no-dressing look like my ex-wife, but the striking beauty of a woman confident in herself, and her curves. Lush, bee-stung lips that practically beg to be wrapped around my cock. Large, doe-like eyes that could have any man melting in a pool of romantic mush with a single look.

  Thank God, I’m not any man. I’m Lucas fucking Philip. Cold-hearted son-of-a-bitch whose emotions are locked behind a steel cage.

  The woman fidgets as she moves across the large room towards me.

  My cock says, Hello Eliana.

  But my mouth says, “What do you want?”

  She doesn’t flinch like most people would. Instead, she says calmly, “Your assistant said you’re free to talk.”

  I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes because I don’t have the time or patience for whatever my secretary said. I’ve fired the woman three times, but HR keeps insisting that it’s unlawful dismissal.

  Bullshit.

  She’s useless. How is that unlawful?

  I’m pretty sure my father put something in her contract that makes it impossible to get rid of her – he's the one who hired her. For what reason, I have no idea. Sometimes, I get paranoid and think that she's some kind of spy for him. Even though he’s semi-retired, the man is constantly in my business, never fully trusting me, despite the billions I’ve made this company.