Sleeping with the Beast

by Hamel, B. B.

  The house was silent. It was a few minutes past five in the morning and I was exhausted, but it felt good to walk through the hallways without anyone around. The mansion was normally a strange mixture of bustling employees and dead stillness. This morning though, it was all still, all dead, and exactly what I wanted.

  I headed down the main staircase and lingered by the front door. I was tempted to leave, but I knew I wouldn’t get far. I’d noticed the cameras all over the place, and I figured there were people watching me right now, wondering if I was about to make a break for it or not. Ren had to be right, my father and the rest of them were probably sending money over to help fund Vincent’s war, despite the fact that they were in a war themselves. It was war all over, violence all over, and I was stuck in the middle, unable to break free.

  I wandered for a while. I stuck my head in random doorways: a gaming room, a home theater, a gym. It took me a while before I finally found what I was looking for.

  The indoor pool was humid and the taste of chlorine lingered on my tongue. I stripped off my outer clothes down to a slightly-too-small bikini I found shoved in the back corner of a closet, jumped in, and swam lazy laps under the bright lights. I wondered how much it cost to have a pool in the city, even a small pool like this one, but figured cost was no real object for the Leone family. Not where opulence and comfort was concerned.

  As I swam, I thought about my future. I tried to picture what my life could be like after this, and found it hard to imagine doing anything but running away from the mob as far and as fast as I could. I wasn’t sure if my father would let me escape, but I had to hope that there was a chance—if Ren was willing to come with me. One day, at least.

  I knew I had to apologize for what I said if I wanted to patch things up.

  And I did. It was wrong of me to accuse him of anything, not after he’d saved my life and done nothing but prove himself, over and over again. I swam and swam until I climbed back out, dripping wet and exhausted. I collapsed onto a chair and dried myself off, lounging with my legs stretched out, staring at the ceiling, trying to find the words that would make everything okay again. The light teal tile clashed with my pink toenail polish and I wondered who chose these decorations, who put this whole world together, but then again, it didn’t matter—I was sure the Leones had someone for that, someone they could throw money at to make their life nice and easy.

  The door opened, making me jump. I had a wild moment of panic where I was positive those guys from the Mt. Airy house were back again to finish the job, and I wrapped my towel around me like it could protect me from bullets.

  Ren stepped into the room, his gaze sweeping around, until he landed on me.

  I stared back at him and let out a breath.

  “You’re up early,” he said. His voice echoed a little in the otherwise empty room. All that tile made the sound bounce around.

  “I thought I’d get some exercise in.”

  He nodded and didn’t move. “I’ll leave you alone.”

  “Wait,” I said before he could leave. “You don’t have to go.”

  He tilted his head slightly, and his eyes dipped down to the towel I had wrapped around my body. I was suddenly very aware that I wore a bikini beneath it. It was the only thing Mona had brought for me at the mansion. He came further into the room and leaned up against the wall.

  “I walked to Vincent yesterday,” he said.

  “How’d that go?”

  “About what you’d expect. But he confirmed my theory, at least.”

  I felt a stab of vertigo. “Really?”

  He looked concerned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  I waved him off. “It’s fine. I should’ve known. We’re trapped.”

  “Not trapped, exactly. But for now, yeah, we’re stuck.”

  I laughed a little and leaned forward, elbows on my knees. “God, this is so crazy. It’s like nowhere’s safe.”

  “More like your family wants to keep you in places that are dangerous.” He came closer then sat down at the end of the lounge chair next to mine. We were inches away from each other. “About what you said.”

  “Ren—”

  “Just listen. I know you think nobody’s on your side, but I am.”

  I stared at my hands, unable to meet his eye. “I know you are.”

  “I hope you believe that, because it’s true.”

  “I shouldn’t have said that yesterday. I was being— I’m having—” I couldn’t get the words out. I couldn’t explain to him the hole I felt like was swallowing me, how everything was anxiety and my every waking moment was spent wondering when the next attack was going to come.

  I felt whiny and pathetic.

  He leaned forward, down onto his knees, and spread my legs. I let out a surprised breath and leaned back on my hands. He moved closer, his body covering mine, and the towel fell down, exposing my breasts ever so slightly, still covered by the bikini top. He took the towel and pulled it away, slowly revealing the rest of me, and dropped it on the floor.

  I felt so exposed and every part of me wanted to put that towel back on. There was a reason I came here so early in the morning. I was still ashamed of my scars, still self-conscious and hating my body, but the way he looked at me with fire in his eyes made something light up in the back of my mind, like fireworks in a cloudless night.

  “You don’t need to explain,” he said. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “I know, but—”

  He leaned forward and kissed my neck. Gently, softly, his lips barely brushing the skin. His hands rested on my hips, and I sucked in a breath, surprised, excited, terrified all at once.

  “I’m on your side, and that’s all that matters,” he whispered. “Anything else, that’s behind us. I don’t care what you said, or what you thought. I care about here and now and what happens next.”

  “I care about that too.”

  He kissed upwards, more pressure each time, and I ran my hand through his hair until his lips met mine. I gasped into that kiss and he pulled me forward, pressing my body against his. I was still wet from the pool, but he didn’t seem to mind that I soaked his shirt. He kissed me, tongue against mine, lips so gentle it drove me wild, and I breathed him in, let his taste roll along my tongue. He held me there and seemed to luxuriate in me, and it made me feel sexy, like I hadn’t felt in a long time—maybe never before.

  He pulled back and his eyes moved to my lips, my collarbone, my breasts, my stomach. They lingered on my scars, and he leaned down suddenly, kissing one of the puckered red wounds. I clenched my jaw and tried to jerk away, but he didn’t let me. He kissed it again, then kissed my stomach, then my breasts, and I let out a half-gasping sigh. I couldn’t tell if I was crying, or laughing, or moaning from pleasure, and I didn’t think I cared. He pushed my bikini top up and off, revealing my pink, hard nipples, and I let him lick them, tongue rolling around the little buds as his other hand pushed my legs wider.

  “I want you to know something,” he said as he kissed down my body again. When he reached the scar and licked it, I didn’t freak out. It was strange, but I didn’t pull away.

  He moved down past it, down to my inner thigh.

  “What’s that?”

  “Whatever happens from here, I’ll have you.”

  “You’ll have me?”

  He nodded and pushed aside my bottoms. I sucked in a breath as he kissed me, then licked me, gently, probing. It felt good, god, it felt so good to have a man touch me like that, a man that so clearly wanted it, so clearly worshipped my body in a way I barely understood, but I needed that worship right now, needed it to help bring me back from the very dark place I’d been for so long.

  “Every part of you. Scars, skin, lips, all of it. I want it all and nothing else. Because without the scars, you’re not you, and it’s you I want.”

  “They’re ugly.”

  “They’re not. You’re just used to what you were before them, but to me, you’re perfect.” He tongued m
e, sucked me, licking me faster, then slid fingers deep inside. I tilted back my head and gasped.

  “Maybe that’s true,” I said, rolling my hips. “But they’re still ugly scars.”

  “Your scars make you who you are. You’re a survivor, Amber. You’re beautiful, and you’ve been hiding yourself for way, way too long. I’m not letting you hide anymore.”

  He slid his fingers faster and began to lick me. Pleasure whipped through my body, physical pleasure, but emotional pleasure too. I felt sexy, felt gorgeous, felt like I was a whole, beautiful woman for the first time since the accident at least. I felt like my scars didn’t define me.

  He kept going, faster, and I melted into him. I wanted it all, everything he was offering. I wanted to accept it, felt greedy for it. I grabbed his hair and pulled him tighter, and he responded in kind, licking me harder, faster, fingers fucking me, my moans loud and filling the room, echoing off the walls. I figured someone might be listening, or someone might hear, but fuck it, I didn’t care. I wanted this so badly and I wasn’t going to stop, not for anything.

  He let out a growl, licked me faster with the top of his tongue, and I couldn’t stop myself. I came on his mouth and he lapped me up as my back arched, my naked breasts exposed to the air, my muscles quivering, a stupid grin on my face. He took me through the orgasm and beyond, extending my pleasure like nothing I’d ever experienced, and pushed me over the edge. I collapsed backward onto the chair and he leaned away, licking his fingers clean.

  I sat up on an elbow. He looked at me, pure lust and admiration in his eyes. He thought I was beautiful, I could see it, and god, that drove me crazy. I leaned forward as he put his hands on my hips, then gripped my ass, and I kissed him, tasting myself on his tongue, not caring, still wild for the moment.

  We lingered like that for a few seconds before he pulled back.

  “I should warn you, there are cameras in here.”

  I felt a deep crimson blush spread across my cheeks. “I figured.”

  “And you didn’t stop me?”

  “I guess I didn’t care.”

  He bit my bottom lip. “Look at you. Dirty girl.”

  I grinned and pushed him back. “Don’t ruin it.”

  “I couldn’t if I tried.” He lingered there, hands on my body, before pulling away. It felt almost visceral when he sat down on the lounger across from me, and all I wanted was for him to touch me again.

  “I came down here to tell you that I have an important errand to run this morning,” he said, smiling a little. “And then you distracted me.”

  “I’m pretty sure you distracted yourself.” I adjusted my bottoms and my top, then wrapped the towel around me again, feeling the moment slipping away.

  “I know. And I’m sorry. If it weren’t important—”

  “It’s fine. Go.”

  He let out a breath. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  He smirked at that then leaned forward again, hand on my cheek, and kissed me. I leaned into that kiss, wanting to savor every moment, before he pulled away and stood. I could tell he wanted to say more, but he shook his head and walked to the door. Before he left, he turned back to me and grinned.

  “Remember, cameras everywhere,” he said. “So don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  I laughed a little, and he disappeared. I wondered what he meant by that, but I leaned back against the lounger and closed my eyes, a stupid smile on my face. I knew I should’ve been more concerned, or maybe afraid, or even embarrassed that some random man in a security room might’ve watched that, but I couldn’t make myself care.

  Of all that shit going on, that was the least important thing.

  13

  Ren

  The sound of Amber’s moans echoing off the tile walls clung to my mind. I couldn’t get her taste from my lips, and the smell of chlorine and her taste stuck on the back of my tongue.

  Goddamn, the girl made me want to live in that pool with her.

  Pulling myself away from her was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but I had a meeting with Joey that I couldn’t ignore. He sent me a message the night before, saying he had some news we had to discuss, and that meant shit with the Leones was heating up.

  I slipped out a back door and hurried down the sidewalk. I figured their security would notice I was missing, but Vincent wouldn’t do shit about it, so long as Amber was still there.

  It was early in the morning, and the rush-hour traffic was heavy. Folks in business suits, guys carrying briefcases, young professionals, old guys with thick backpacks, they all jammed themselves along, waiting at lights and crossing in huge flocks. I walked in the middle of them, losing myself in the crowd as best I could—just in case someone from the house decided to try to follow.

  I grabbed a cab on Broad and took it down to South Philly. I met Joey in a little rundown corner shop that was half deli and half coffee spot. The big guy behind the counter in a hairnet and a white apron poured me a big mug and grunted what sounded like English, but I couldn’t be sure. I paid and sat down at a little wooden table jammed up next to a meat display while Joey leaned back, looking half-asleep in an oversized sweatshirt and a sideways flat-brimmed cap.

  “What’s up, man?” he said as I sipped my coffee.

  “Not much. All’s quiet on my end.”

  “Yeah? Shit, that’s good.” He looked around like he was worried we’d be overheard, even though the place was empty, and the guys behind the counter were loudly discussing the Eagles while slicing meat into neat little stacks.

  “Why’d you call me out here so early, man?”

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh, you know. The usual shit.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Joey.”

  “What, man?” He looked annoyed suddenly. “What do you want me involved in all this shit for, anyway? You know I got a business, right?”

  “You’re a day trader.”

  “I sell t-shirts, man. Got this guy that does this sick spray art shit and—” He stopped himself. “Whatever the fuck, it doesn’t matter. Look, man, this is a little much, is all I’m saying.”

  I nodded, sipping my coffee again. It was surprisingly good, considering it’d been brewed by a bunch of guys that looked like they’d slaughtered the morning’s meat themselves.

  “Something happened.”

  “Nothing happened. The fuck?”

  “You’re cursing a lot.”

  He laughed. “You a fucking prude now? Don’t like curse words?”

  “No, but you curse when you’re nervous.” I arched an eyebrow. “Why are you nervous?”

  “I’m not fucking—” He took a deep breath. “I’m cool, okay?”

  “Okay, great. So what happened, Joey? Why this meeting, then the change of heart?”

  He looked around again and shifted back and forth in his seat. Something was bothering him, that much was obvious, but I didn’t know what. Joey was a small-time player, really on the periphery of things. I figured he’d be perfect to keep an eye on the war for me, since he was a known quantity, and always talking shit anyway. Nobody would bat an eye if Joey started asking around about the Leones’ business, since that was the kind of guy Joey was.

  “I heard something,” he said finally. “All right? I just heard something, and I thought you should know about it.”

  “What’d you hear?”

  “I heard the Dusters were going to make a move.” He leaned toward me, eyes wide and sparkling. “I heard it was big.”

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Some guys, talking.”

  “Guys talk all the time. Who’d you hear it from?”

  He glanced toward the entrance. “I was in a bar, okay? Place where some Duster guys hang out.”

  “Joey,” I said, voice warning.

  “I know, it was stupid, all right? I was curious though. You got me fucking curious, and I tell you what, I can’t help myself when I’m curious.”

  “
What’s going to happen?”

  “An attack. On the mansion. I don’t know when, and I don’t know how bad, but I know it’s gonna be big.”

  I nodded slowly. “I have to admit, I don’t find that very likely.”

  “I’m telling you, it’s true.”

  “Maybe, but here’s the thing. If you were going to attack the Leone family mansion, would you tell some random guy about it first?”

  He hesitated. “No, I wouldn’t, but, Ren—”

  “You wouldn’t, because it would be very, very stupid. Then again, nobody said the Dusters were smart, and they’re clearly pretty confident right now if things are going their way.”

  “These guys were drunk and talking to each other, man. I overheard it. I shouldn’t have, but I did. I’m telling you, it’s coming, man.”

  “I appreciate the warning.”

  “Look, I can’t be in this anymore, okay? That whole thing spooked me and now I’m worried they’re following me.”

  “They’re not following you.”

  “You don’t know that.” He laughed a little. “I feel like I’m in a spy movie.”

  “Go home, Joey. Get some sleep. Stick to your normal spots for a while and keep your head down. You did more than enough already.”

  He gave me a look then abruptly stood up, jostling the table. I managed to catch my drink before it toppled over.

  “Thanks, yeah, I’ll do that.” He walked toward the door. I watched him go, and as he slipped out, he glanced back at me.

  I saw it then, a guilty look in his eye.

  He didn’t tell me the full story, I was sure of it. I didn’t know what he was holding back, or what he might be lying about, but he definitely didn’t tell me exactly what he knew.

  I drank my coffee and thought about that for a little while. The whole situation swirled around my brain: Amber, Vincent, the Chicago family, the war, Joey. All the little pieces in their own little spots, but none of them coming together, not yet at least.