Breaking Beauty (Twisted Tales, #1)

by Teresa Mummert

  “Ugh.” I shoved against his chest, but it was like trying to move a brick wall. His gaze dropped to my hands before his eyes locked onto mine. “Move, Mason.”

  He didn’t. His chest pressed harder against my palms as he leaned in, his head hung down, and everywhere I looked was Mason.

  “Move,” I bit out the word, refusing to let him intimidate me.

  His head cocked to the side. “Make me.”

  Mason was the type of guy who was used to being in control. He didn’t expect people to stand up to him.

  I took a deep breath and spoke to him in a calm, even tone. “Leave me alone.”

  “What were you thinking when you were up there last night, watching me down here with that woman?” He took a step forward, and I took one back. “You wonder what it would be like to be her? You sure as fuck weren’t thinking about Hunter.” His head cocked to the side. “You want to be on your knees for me too? Come on, Beauty. You wanted my attention... you got it now.”

  “Mason –” My face felt like it was on fire.

  He stepped again, and when I moved my foot back, my heel caught the edge of the bottom step, and I began to fall. Without hesitation, Mason’s arm looped behind my back and caught me before I could hit the ground. He hauled me against him, and I could feel just how much he had been enjoying taunting me. I hit my closed fist against his chest.

  “I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last man on Earth!”

  “Good.” He released me and put a foot of space between us. The malice, the lust, was gone from his voice. “Tell that motherfucker that when you see him. See if he asks you for a second date.”

  I was so shocked by his change of tone. I didn’t have a response.

  The moment I heard Annabelle gasp and I saw her standing upstairs, watching me, I knew it would be nearly impossible for me not to have her. The look of lust and fascination on her face made me cum faster than a teenage boy seeing his first pair of tits. But that wasn’t part of the deal. She was off-limits, at least for now.

  When she finally realized I was watching her, she looked terrified, but I had to fight the urge to go to her. Instead, I sent the woman home that I’d brought back to the house and went to bed, unable to sleep with Annabelle just a few doors down. I paced the floor for hours, desperate to rid her from my thoughts, studying every word in the file Devin had collected.

  I thought fucking some random stranger would satiate the urge to have her, but it ended up having the opposite effect. Now, all I could think of was sliding between her milky thighs and tasting her. I wanted to hear her make those sounds in my ear, bite her lip when I pushed inside of her.

  Hearing her say that she wasn’t scared of my giant cock sounded like a challenge, and if I weren't careful, I would do something I knew she would regret.

  Still, I stroked my dick to that very depraved thought.

  It had been two days since it happened. Two days since she’d witnessed some woman suck my cock as she watched in awe. One day since she told me she was going to date Hunter. And now I was left wondering if I really had any control over this situation; if her falling into my lap and Hunter returning weren’t part of some other nefarious plan.

  I’d been doing my best to avoid her, but she was all that consumed my mind.

  “Mason?” she asked, knocking on my door and causing it to fall open a few inches. I was sitting on the edge of my bed, elbows on my knees, head hung as I eyed the tiny scrap of paper in my fingers. I looked up at her, wearing nothing but one of my t-shirts, the peaks of her breasts, causing it to tent across her small chest. The hem of the shirt fell to the tops of her creamy thighs, and she fidgeted with the edge of the fabric like she had as she watched me the other day.

  “What do you want, ‘Belle?” I asked, rubbing my palm across my forehead, struggling to keep from staring at her legs. She had no clue how fucking sexy she was.

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “What?”

  She shrugged as she worried her lip between her teeth. “You’ve been kind of avoiding me.”

  I laughed quietly, shaking my head. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind.” You. You’ve been on my mind.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  I pushed to my feet, entertaining the idea of telling her all of the depraved thoughts I’d been having about her. Telling her the real reason she was now under my roof. I wondered if she’d run or slap me. “No,” I replied as I walked around her and out of my bedroom door. She followed after me, her bare feet padding softly against the hardwood floor.

  “I get it,” she called after me as we descended the stairs.

  “Do you?” Do you know all I can think about is sinking my cock deep inside of you and making you scream my name? Do you know that you’ve been betrayed by the only people in this world you think you can trust? Do you know you became a pawn in a feud that you can’t even begin to understand?

  “You want your space back.”

  I stopped as I reached the bottom of the staircase, and she did the same, four steps up, making her eye level with me when I turned around to face her. “You’re not leaving.”

  “I don’t want to be a burden.”

  “You’re not a fucking burden,” I groaned. “You’re a distraction.”

  “A distraction?” Her face scrunched up in confusion as she gathered her hair and slid a hair tie from her wrist around her ponytail. My eyes fell to where her shirt had ridden up from having her arms raised, revealing a pair of white cotton panties with a small pink bow in the center of the waistband. A sardonic grin spread across my face. The problem with being deceitful is you start to think everyone is playing the games that you are. Trust becomes a luxury you can no longer afford, and I was going to pay dearly if all of his went south.

  “Drop the act.” I narrowed my eyes. “The games are over.”

  “What games?” she feigned innocence, but I could see she was anything but. She may have been inexperienced, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy turning me on, making me want her.

  “Ever since you walked into my club, you’ve turned my entire fuckin’ world upside down. How much?”

  “How much what?”

  “How much is Hunter paying you to fuck with my head?”

  “What?”

  I stepped up a stair, my head now above hers, but she didn’t back up. “Mason, I don’t know what your problem is with that guy, but it has nothing to do with me. And I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m not your property, and you can’t tell me who I can hang out with.”

  “You’re right. If you did belong to me, you would know better than to throw a little tantrum like this or –”

  “Or what?”

  I leaned down; my nose skimming along her cheekbone as I took in her scent, my eyes falling closed momentarily as I savored her sweet smell. Everything I’d been wanting to do to her flitted through my mind. I could taste the words on my tongue like acid, but I wouldn’t say them. My voice was gruff, barely a whisper when I did speak. “All of it begins and ends with you, Beauty,” I sneered as I crumbled up the scrap of paper and tossed it on the ground by her feet.

  “What’s that?” she asked, her eyes searching mine. I had to look away because it was too easy to forget who I really was when I looked at her; too easy to think I could be the man I once was.

  “That’s Hunter’s number.”

  I walked around her and headed back up to my room, but just before slamming the door, I turned to look back down over the railing and watched her pick up the piece of paper.

  EIGHT

  IT HAD BEEN TWO WEEKS since the incident. Two long weeks of Mason teasing me after watching some random girl going down on him. Twelve days since he accused me of using him in some sort of revenge plot from Hunter. I’d avoided him for days after our fight, but what he said was nagging at me. I knew what it felt like not to be able to trust anyone. Mason was the only person who had helped me when I needed someone the most, and I couldn’t let him t
hink that I was using him. That’s why I decided not to call Hunter.

  I’d cooked him dinner three nights in a row. He never showed until the early morning hours, if he even came home at all. One night he was so drunk he nearly broke the banister. Another night he made it a point to entertain one of his female guests right outside of my room. I cried myself to sleep that night. The next, I searched bus tickets back to Bloomington.

  But this morning, he was different. When I passed him in the hall, he smiled at me and asked how I’d slept. He even made me coffee and eggs. Something had changed, and even though I had no idea what it was, I was thankful he was finally over his anger with me, or at the very least, willing to acknowledge my existence.

  “Are we going to be leaving soon?” I asked, already bored with being back at the club in the middle of the day, but I was excited to be able to get out of the house for a while, and Mason promised today we’d be getting some supplies to make the girls new outfits.

  “As soon as I let this new dancer try out. It won’t take long, I promise. You may even enjoy it.” He replied with a wink, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes, and it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

  I felt my face heat, but Mason was now looking out over my shoulder. I spun around to see a gorgeous woman in a tracksuit enter. She was beaming as she reached out her hand to greet Mason, ignoring my presence.

  “Just in time, sweetheart. You have an outfit?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she grinned like her life dream had been to strip off of her clothing for Mason. I rolled my eyes, but I felt a pang of jealousy. Any woman would want to strip down in front of him. He was the very definition of a man.

  “Come on,” he motioned for her to follow him, and I looked to the ground, wishing I was anywhere but here. “Let’s go, Beauty,” he called after me. I glanced up to see him stalking off toward backstage, and I hurried to catch up with them. He explained to the woman where the dancers keep their things and where to change before he took my hand.

  “We’ll be in room two,” he told her as he pulled me behind him, back out into the main room and down a short hallway.

  “What is this?” I asked as I glanced around the small, secluded space.

  “This is where new dancers audition for me.” He flipped a switch, and the lighting lowered before he fumbled with some sort of sound system. I looked at the thick vinal chair in the center of the room, the couch along the far wall, and back at Mason. His eyes caught mine, and he smirked. “What?”

  “Nothing,” I shrugged as I stood awkwardly off to the side. I didn’t want to know what all women did in this room to get his attention. “Do I need to be in here for this?”

  “I can’t let you wander around the club. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

  The dancer popped her head in a minute later, still beaming from ear to ear, but now wearing what some might consider a dinner napkin. Her mile-long legs balanced delicately atop of blood-red fuck-me pumps, the same color as her lips.

  “Track three,” she told Mason as she handed him a disc and pushed her wheat-colored hair from her face. He put her song on and then went to the center of the room, sinking down in the lone seat. I looked at the couch, but I honestly had no idea what had been done on it, and I didn’t want to risk contracting a disease, so I stood awkwardly by the doorway.

  The music began to play, and as the stranger moved her hips, leaning in to put her ample chest in Mason’s face, he looked to me. I felt my entire face grow hot, but I couldn’t look away from him. My mouth was parched, and I ran my tongue out to wet my lips. This could have been me giving him the dance he’d asked me for, but I was too shy, too afraid of humiliating myself.

  Mason’s gaze dropped to my mouth.

  I felt heat pool in my belly, unable to tear my gaze from his. The way his eyes smoldered, the small scar on his arched brow, the fullness of his lips, it was all very distracting.

  “Enjoying the show?” he asked as his eyes finally went to the dancer when she straddled his seat, and if I couldn’t see their lower halves, I would have sworn they were having sex.

  “Hardly.” Was he trying to get me to puke in the club again?

  “What do you think?” He asked in a flat tone, his eyes back on me as she spun around, grinding her ass against his lap. When I just stared at him, he clarified, “About her dancing.”

  I shrugged, fidgeting with my fingers. “It’s good, I guess. I don’t really know much about stripping.”

  “It’s just about turning a man on. I know you know how to do that.” His eyes narrowed before he rubbed his palm against his beard like it just occurred to him that this situation might make me a little uncomfortable, or maybe it was awkward for him that I was watching him get this private dance. Perhaps that was the point. Perhaps our fight wasn’t water under the bridge... maybe it was a slow rising flood; our initial argument just the levy being breached as water lapped at the edge.

  “Not really,” I shrugged. “Do you want me to wait outside?”

  “Come here,” he held out his hand toward me, and I took several small steps toward him. As soon as my fingers touched his, he grabbed my hand and tugged me down on his lap, facing the dancer, and it was more than obvious he had been enjoying the entertainment. “Sit on Daddy’s lap,” he growled in my ear playfully.

  “Ugh,” I groaned. The word Daddy caused bile to rise in my throat.

  She continued to move, her focus now on me, and I pressed my back into his chest, struggling to keep a few inches of distance between my body and hers. Mason’s arm laid across my lap like a safety belt, holding me against him.

  “What do you see?” He asked, his warm breath blowing across my ear and causing me to shiver.

  “Um... boobs?”

  He laughed, his chest rumbling against my back. “In her eyes. You can tell a lot about a woman by the way they look at you.”

  I glanced up at the dancer's face as she pulled her lip between her teeth.

  “A good dancer can make you feel like you’re the only person they’ve ever wanted. Do you see it?”

  I nodded, embarrassed by the way the woman was looking at me as I sat on Mason’s lap like a child.

  “Do you like it?” he asked, his voice lower, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.

  “Let me up, Mason,” I replied, trying to keep my tone even, but I felt like he was making fun of me. I made a halfhearted attempt to stand as he squeezed me.

  “No.”

  “Why are you making me watch this?” I asked, embarrassed as the dancer slid off her top and turned her back toward me. She was practically sitting in my lap, and I was pressing myself harder against Mason, my head swimming. The thickness of him rubbed against my aching center, and he groaned, the sound rumbling in his chest.

  My breathing grew more shallow, and my hips moved fractionally against him as I tried to avoid contact with her. He grunted, and I could feel his gaze locked on the side of my face. “Are you sure you aren’t enjoying this?” He asked.

  Thankfully, the song ended, and I was left nearly panting as I watched her pick up her top and tie it back on. I went to stand, but Mason’s arm held me firmly against him.

  “Did she get the job?” He asked me, and my eyes locked on hers as she silently pleaded with me to say yes.

  I nodded, causing her to squeal with relief.

  “You can come in on Saturday. We’ll put you on stage at eight and see how it goes from there,” He told her, and she smiled warmly, visibly relaxing.

  “Thanks, Mason. I really appreciate it.” Her eyes slid to mine. “It was nice meeting you.”

  I nodded, giving her a polite smile, but inside, I was screaming.

  Once she walked out of the room, he finally released me. I pushed to my feet, turning around to scowl at him. “I can’t believe you just made me sit through that.”

  He shrugged as he pushed to his feet. “It would have looked bad if I let you up, and my dick was hard.”

  My m
outh dropped open and snapped shut. “Well... maybe she would have taken it as a compliment. Her whole goal is to turn you on, isn’t it?”

  “She wasn’t the one who turned me on, Beauty. You kept wiggling your little ass against me. I’m only a man.”

  “I didn’t ask to sit on your lap,” I snapped back, embarrassed.

  “You were asking for a whole lot more with the way you were looking at me from across the room. I couldn’t even focus on the dancer.”

  My eyes went wide. “Are you always this... this...”

  “Honest?”

  “Obnoxious,” I corrected, earning me a laugh as he shook his head.

  “I want you to understand how to run the business.”

  “Why do I need to know how to run this place?”

  “It’s called being an adult, Annabelle. I’m not always going to be around to handle this shit. Someone needs to be able to make sure this place stays running.”

  “Why won’t you be around? Where are you going?” I asked, panic clenching my stomach. “You can’t just leave me.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Beauty. I’m not that easy to get rid of.” He laughed, running his hand against the back of his head. “Are you ready to go shopping, or do you want to keep arguing about whether or not you were eye-fucking me because it’s making my dick hard again.” His eyebrows rose, and I scoffed at him before turning and storming out of the room.

  After hours of shopping, I collapsed on the couch in Mason’s living room, surrounded by bags.

  “You hungry?” He asked, perched against the archway with a mug of coffee in his hand.

  “I don’t think I can move,” I groaned. “We went overboard.”

  “We have lots of dancers, plus, you agreed to model the outfits,” he shrugged as I gave him a dirty look.

  “I never agreed to that.”

  Walking over toward me, he set his mug down on the side table and scooped me up in his arms.

  “You don’t have to keep carrying me around everywhere, you know.”