Beautiful Things Evil People Do

by Kailee Reese Samuels

  “I bet that’s not all you did.”

  “I already did that on the shed floor several times,” she openly admits. “You want to teach me a lesson. If I agree to stay, will I go to the house?”

  “Eventually.”

  “When you can control yourself?” she questions, pushing. “Or when we reach said point of my training?”

  “Don’t use that word.”

  “You’re the one who said handle me like an animal,” she says, revealing the lack of undergarments on her chest. “I assumed that meant training one as well.”

  “You don’t want to be submissive.”

  “How do you know?”

  I snicker as she follows me to the truck. “Get in.”

  “… No door opening?”

  “I’m not a gentleman,” I reply, smirking. I drive around the property to the large metal barn. “We’re talking and working.”

  “You have horses?”

  “They’re out grazing the front of the property.”

  “How many?”

  “Four,” I reply, putting a rake in her hand. “Stalls. Scoop. Shit.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Sure, you want to stay?” I rebuke with a snarl. “I know you don’t want to be submissive because I have your ad memorized. You’re looking for violent sex. Nothing more or less. You don’t want a boyfriend or the likely boring missionary sex acts he would bring. You want a sexual savage to Dominate the scene.”

  “You’ve got it!”

  “I’m a fucking genius!” I sarcastically chime.

  “But you won’t do it even though you admitted to being a sadist.”

  “I won’t do it because I am a sadist,” I reply as she rakes, and I fill the buckets with fresh food, hay, and water. “Being a sadist naturally implies that I am seeking a masochist. Someone willing to surrender to my demands. You’re not a submissive or a slave. You’re just fucked up.”

  She laughs, and I grin. “Is it that bad to have this fantasy?”

  “Ravishment is great, but not the way you went about it. You opened a barrel of cottonmouths, quite stupidly, I might add.”

  “I wanted the surprise.”

  “Well, surprise,” I joke with a tilt of my head. “You’ve been abducted by a monster.”

  “You’re not a monster,” she cattily sasses.

  I move closer, using my height to intimidate. “Are you so sure about that, Sweet Pea? You’ve been with me less than a week. Do you know who I am?”

  “Yes,” she assures. “I do.”

  With one swift move, I latch onto her wrist, and the rake falls from her hand as I push her into the back wall of the stall. I press my sweat-laden body against hers and breathe on her neck. “I suggest you consider your answers more cautiously.”

  She shivers beneath my weight. “You want to hurt me.”

  “Like you cannot believe.”

  “So why haven’t you?” she whispers through ragged breaths. “If you’re such a deviant, why not attack what is on your property?”

  “Because I am stalking you, sweetheart.” The clean sweet smell of her skin permeates my nose as I involuntarily buck my hips to her ass. She would feel so good…so tight on me. “You have no idea what I am capable of…I will ruin you.”

  “But you won’t do it,” she mumbles, arching her hips back to greet me. I push against her, making sure she understands what she is doing to me. “Because I’m not submissive.”

  “You aren’t anything but mine.”

  Her teeth vice her lip as my hand slides up under her shirt and gropes her breast. Her soft flesh melts against my calloused fingers. She whimpers, “For three months.”

  “Unless I send you away before then,” I mumble against her flesh. “You offered your body for use at my discretion with complete confidence.”

  “Fuck,” she rants, fully grasping the negligence of her actions.

  “Oh, you can bet your sweet ass, we’re going to do that too.”

  11

  Pay the Bounty

  Echo

  Second entry, the fourth day

  I am alone again.

  Back in my shed of a prison cell.

  We worked all day on the farm, feeding the animals and catching up on all of the stuff that Axel let slack off while Jynx was in Arizona. I didn’t mind helping because I got to spend time with him.

  I understand what he wants to accomplish with me, but there are extenuating issues that provoked my ad. He doesn’t know about my freakish tendencies. He may be a Dominant, but that isn’t what I’m interested in.

  I’m way out in left field on the violent sexual fantasies.

  He pushed me against the wall of the barn, and I practically came in my pants. I wanted him to take it further, but he won’t let himself because he’s “disciplined.”

  Little does he realize how undisciplined I want my perfect suitor to be.

  I toss and turn for what seems hours. The relentless sauna lingering in the air is terrible, and the box fan offers no reprieve. I lace one hand around the bed frame and skim the other into my panties.

  I’ll pass out with an orgasm.

  Thinking of how his back muscles shimmered in the late afternoon as he brushed the horses down, I dip my fingers inside and dampen my thighs with every thrust. I want his body, mind, and spirit to be mine. I need his passion inside of me. A crack of thunder sounds in the distance, but I ignore the storm for the flood coming within me.

  “Fuck me, Jynx,” I beg, gripping tightly to the frame. “Please…”

  I come hard and fast as lightning flashes outside the window. I don’t care. I drift off to dreamland with my only thought being of Jynx Monroe.

  I’m on the football field in my violet and white cheerleading uniform. When the crowd dies down from winning the game, a few friends gather round as we head out for our victory celebration at someone’s house. I’ll sit in the corner like I always do, quietly observing it all.

  Instantly, I am alone on the field when the lights shine on me.

  I wander off the turf, past the concession stand to under the bleachers, where I spot a girl—my mirror image, a complete doppelgänger—strapped down to the table while he has his way with her—which is me. Her sparkling hazel eyes demand my attention as she moans beneath the man.

  I step closer, wanting to get a better look.

  He tosses a glance over his shoulder to me. “Took you long enough to get here, Echo.”

  The area overflows with the attendees of the football game. They’re laughing and pointing and saying horrid things about the girl lying on the table.

  No one understands.

  No one but him.

  I sit up in bed, sweating buckets, and grab my book. In the glow of the nightlight, I jot down a few notes.

  Third entry, the fourth day

  Close your eyes.

  Don’t look around.

  Don’t peek down.

  Don’t read what they say.

  Don’t ask me my name.

  Don’t listen.

  Echo.

  “Why is my foot wet?” I mutter, flicking the light on. A continuous waterfall pours onto the end of the bed from the shed’s ceiling. “Oh, my God!”

  I tug on the wrought iron bed, but it’s too heavy to move alone. I spot the bright headlights beaming through the window and the curtains of rain crashing from the heavens to the land.

  With a smile, Jynx busts in the door. “I guess we put the bed on the wrong side.”

  I giggle at his easy demeanor, rolling with any catastrophic situation. He’s the guy people want on their team—the problem solver with a great attitude and cheerfulness to match.

  “I think so.”

  “Grab your stuff,” he commands, shaking the water from his long chocolate curls. “This is only supposed to get worse. There is a supercell headed for us. We need to hurry.”

  “What about the bed?”

  “Fuck it,” he dismissively says, extending his hand. “Your
safety matters more than the bed.”

  I grab the journal, wrap my jeans around it, and tuck it close to my chest. “Let’s go!” A series of earthshaking booms deafens me as we rush to the truck. He opens my door and holds my bottom, ensuring I don’t slip on the wet running bars. “Shit!”

  He drives like a madman toward the house. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m sorry,” I mumble, upset.

  “Why?” he asks, clutching my hand. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I had no idea the shed even leaked, or I wouldn’t have put you there. I guess you’re staying in the house with me now.”

  An upgrade I hadn’t planned on occurring quite so soon.

  With a smirk, I tease, “You said you wouldn’t kill me, but you tried to drown your captive.”

  He laughs. “We’re soaked to the bone.”

  “I want to soak around your bone,” I carelessly say, grinning as he parks the truck by the garage. He cuts the engine at the exact moment a bright bolt hits a tree at the front of the property. Gold dust flutters, surrounding where lightning hit as a small flash fire breaks out. It quickly dies in the pouring rain as the thunder roars, and the lights go out. “Uh, oh!”

  He doesn’t flinch in the darkness. “Why do you want to have sex with me?”

  The obvious reason is attraction, but it’s shallow and not the answer he is seeking. “You seem competent.”

  Wrong answer.

  “Try again,” he hastens, getting out of the truck and running to my side. Before I know it, he’s tossed me over his shoulder and carrying my ass inside. He sets me on the kitchen cabinet. “Why do you want to have sex with me?”

  “Because you do things like that.”

  “That’s a better answer than being competent.” He lights a few candles and grabs a couple of towels from the adjoining laundry room. Without concern, he proceeds to pull off my drenched shirt. He doesn’t ask; he does. “Hold onto my shoulders.” Reaching behind me, he slides my panties off and hands me a towel. “Keep going. You aren’t done. Why do you want to have sex with me?”

  “This is hard under the gun,” I reply as he tosses his wet shirt in the sink with my clothes and grabs a bottle of wine from the fridge. “It’s 2 AM.”

  “Do you have somewhere to be tomorrow?”

  “No.”

  “Then,” he says, grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet. “We’re drinking.”

  “I’m sitting here naked,” I remind as he hands me a glass of white wine.

  “Technically, you’re not.” He takes a sip of his wine and proceeds to drop his sweat pants—my mouth waters. I gawk at his chiseled musculature in the orange glow of the candles. His ass is perfectly plump with sculpted thighs and calves. He wraps the towel around his waist before accidentally showing off his big, delicious secret. “Problem?”

  “Do you like turning me on?”

  “I was being polite,” he mutters as his lip lifts suggestively. “Would you prefer rude?”

  “Yes, I really would,” I quip. “You ask why I want to have sex with you, but have you seen yourself?”

  He scratches his cheek, pausing to collect his thoughts. “But what you don’t know is I don’t see what you do. Much like you. I am an average guy.”

  “There is nothing average about you, Jynx Monroe.”

  His lips pucker. “The lights could be out for days. I’ll get the generator running for the essentials.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  The back of his fingers stroke my cheek. “If you need to go, you can leave tomorrow.”

  “And what if I want to stay?”

  “Anything could happen,” he informs stoically. “I can’t promise anything but honesty.”

  “Why do you want to have sex with me?”

  With his hands propped on either side of the counter, he traps my tremulous body beneath his sturdy frame. “Because you’re the most beautiful, witty, and charming woman I have ever met.”

  “And why won’t you?”

  “Because I want to make you uncomfortable,” he confirms, easing closer. His blue eyes peer into the deepest parts of my soul as I force myself to meet his steady gaze. I’m just realizing how truly massive this man is. He’s tall and broad with hefty, sinewy cords practiced and worked over. I’ve never been around a man this buff. A noticeable tremor shudders through my body, aching for more than I fear he will ever provide. “I want the tension so tight that my dick is continuously weeping with a built-up wanton lust for you.”

  “You’re holding back on purpose?”

  “I am,” he admits with a smirk. “But you’re making it very hard.”

  “… Freudian?”

  “More than a slip,” he concedes. “I’ve never done this.”

  “But you’ve been with women.”

  “Countless, nameless, faceless women who I couldn’t tell you a damn thing about,” he replies, uncaring. “And that makes me an asshole.”

  “Sheltering your heart for one doesn’t make you an asshole.”

  “No,” he agrees with a raise of his brows. “But what I long to do to you does.”

  I reach up, touching his cheek and breaking through the barrier for the first time. We’ve held hands and brushed against one another, but I’ve not set forth with a purposeful intent of touching him until now. I quiver with what may transpire. “Tell me.”

  “I don’t need to tell you,” he growls, closing his eyes. “I want to show you.”

  “Jynx Monroe, I offer my body for use at your discretion with complete confidence.”

  “You’re handing a monster the keys to the kingdom, baby.”

  “Pillage and plunder,” I whisper as he narrows in on my lips. “All reward, no risk situation for the stalker appreciating violent sexual encounters. I’ll struggle, act the role of victim, and provide you with a challenge.”

  His unshakeable focus unnerves me as he probes, “Do I incite fear?”

  “Yes,” I breathe against his lip. “You do.”

  “And are you struggling?”

  “More than you know.” His intense gaze seizes all that I am as my skin tingles with apprehension. “Hurt me, J.”

  “You don’t understand what you’re asking for.”

  “Please,” I beg, curling into his frame and laying my hands on his hair covered chest. “Don’t think.”

  “I will cause permanent damage to your heart.”

  His teeth snap to my bottom lip, and his large hands press against my hips. “Hold me.”

  “I can’t,” he says, fighting his demons. “I won’t let myself.”

  “Because you’re afraid of loving me.”

  “Because I’m already falling,” he confesses, shaking his head and backing away. “I need to get some sleep. There will be broken limbs come morning light.”

  “Don’t go.”

  “I can’t stay,” he mutters as I cling to his hand until he’s out of reach. “Sleep well.”

  I watch as he disappears through the house. I want to cry, but what good will my tears do if he isn’t here to catch them?

  I carefully slide from the counter, grab a candle, and walk to the bedroom where my things are. My luggage is gone. I check the chest of drawers where my clothes are neatly folded and put away. I twist to the closet where the rest of my clothes are hanging.

  On the nightstand, I spot my phone and computer.

  I am a prisoner by choice.

  I should pack my things and leave this fucked up man to resume his miserable life alone. I can do nothing but disrupt his psyche.

  Just as he has done to me.

  Dropping the towel in the middle of the room, I grab a pair of pajamas and curl up in the bed. I open my laptop and sign onto the site where the ad is posted. I hit the unpublish button on the post when a message pops up on the sidebar.

  $T4LK3R: I am sorry.

  D4RK4NG3L: I should go.

  $T4LK3R: You should, but you won’t. And for the life of me, I don’t know why.

 
D4RK4NG3L: Just your charming cynical self.

  I cannot stop grinning as I see the dots and know he’s typing. I bite my lip and patiently wait, letting him lead. Mostly because I don’t want to. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Dating, relationships, sex—it’s all out of my league, but he’s older. And for reasons I don’t fully understand, I trust him to take me where I want to go.

  $T4LK3R: Click into the private chat room I just made.

  D4RK4NG3L: Will it get me dick pics?

  $T4LK3R: Quite possibly, if you will stay.

  D4RK4NG3L: That’s bribery, Mr. Monroe.

  $T4LK3R: I’m trying here, Echo.

  D4RK4NG3L: I know. :)

  $T4LK3R: But I only know one way.

  D4RK4NG3L: This.

  $T4LK3R: Yes.

  A minute passes with no dots, and I think that we’re through. I fluff another pillow behind my back. I wait for so long that I worry he may have fallen asleep.

  $T4LK3R: Turn the camera on.

  Taking a deep breath, I press the button, but I see nothing. We clearly aren’t on the same page or level, which is fine. The smile plastered on my face is starting to hurt.

  D4RK4NG3L: Can you see me?

  $T4LK3R: Yes.

  D4RK4NG3L: You aren’t allowing me to see you.

  $T4LK3R: Take your shirt off.

  D4RK4NG3L: You realize you’re on the other side of the house?

  $T4LK3R: Do it.

  I pull off my shirt and look into the camera, making sure he can see my breasts. Boldly, I ask, “Does this make it…easier?”

  $T4LK3R: The space between us makes me very hard.

  D4RK4NG3L: You’re jerking off.

  $T4LK3R: I am.

  I mutter out loud, “To me.”

  $T4LK3R: Yes, Echo, I am.

  D4RK4NG3L: What should I do?

  $T4LK3R: Pretend like you’re never going to see me again.

  In disbelief, I reread his words again and again. A good five minutes passes with not another word sent between us. I’m panicking that this is his goodbye. He’s seriously fucked up.