Bona Fide Beauty: Bona Fide, Book One

by Landra Graf

  “I needed money for the house; you know how much it means to me. Anywho, no banks would give me a loan, no payday thing would cut it. A friend with money didn’t exist, and my parents could care less. So that left…”

  She had since started looking at the ceiling, talking to the air instead of him. Shitty how his gut told him this tied back to his partner too.

  “Mark,” they both spoke at the same time.

  Her head went level, eyes landing on him. “Right. A deal with my asshole cousin. He refused to give me anything out of kindness or to save his grandmother’s home. He hates his dad.”

  “I’m familiar with his attitude toward that side of the family.” He’d been along for both rides with a front seat tour as Mark’s dad was arrested and convicted.

  “Then you may understand that it’s tough to be around someone who thinks you’ll turn into a criminal any second. Moving on, I agreed to the deal, and he gave me some of the money up front and promised me the rest after.”

  Dread and a little anger at his partner came with Kat’s unspoken words. A deal and money were one thing, but, “What was the deal, Kat?”

  He didn’t want to know, but deep down the truth needed to be spoken.

  “I get you to agree to give me a makeover and complete it.”

  His heart dropped to his gut; he’d been ready to hear this. But like any bad news, it still burned him everywhere. Jumping off the couch, he paced the living room, flexing his hands over and over. The efforts didn’t get rid of his urge to hit something. To pile drive through the wall and expel some of his frustrations. His best friend and business partner didn’t trust him to find his way back on his own. Naturally, the next question was, “So the whole thing was fake? Did you dress down, pretend to have no wardrobe and social challenges in the workplace to gain my help?”

  “No! That’s the crazy part. I gave you a tough time, but everything I told you about me was true. The clothes, lessons, conversation, and body language tips you gave helped me last night and at work. I’ve never gotten so many compliments in my life.”

  “This hurts, Kat. I’ve had someone hide their personality from me before, lie to me to get what they want. The fact you hid something, lied to me…” He shouldn’t have blown up, but it hurt. To know she didn’t trust him with the truth, had made a deal, and while they’d grown closer she’d continued to hide part of herself from him.

  Kat stood there and squeaked out, “I’m sorry” before the tears started to fall.

  Dev resumed his pacing, grabbed a box of tissue on one pass near the kitchen, and dropped it on the couch by Kat as he made his way back.

  She sniffled, and blew her nose. “Thank you.”

  Over a couple more laps, he watched her mouth open and close, like a fish on land. He hated this whole situation, yet it appeared he wasn’t the only victim. He had to give her the benefit of the doubt, right? “Why, once you finally got to know me, didn’t you say anything till now—since you got caught?”

  “I couldn’t. Another part of the deal. If I mentioned the money or contract to anyone, especially you, the deal was off.”

  Inside he said Hail Mary’s, thankful his instincts had been spot on from the start. She’d been holding back, but not for the reasons she’d given him. Maybe she wouldn’t have hidden anything intentionally. Before he could formulate his next question, she kept going.

  “Dev, I wanted to tell you. But losing my house over the respect of some guy I’ve only known for a couple of months? Even after last night—which was the best, I’d like to add—I couldn’t give up my home, one of the few things I own, for great sex, a charming, caring personality, and a business owner who probably isn’t looking for anything long term. Once Mark finds out, I’ll lose the house, too.” Tears sprang anew, and she grabbed a fresh tissue. “I’m fucked.”

  He hated seeing her like this, sad and hurt. The situation looked so different now that he had the whole story and knew that she didn’t deserve the anger he felt. No, he’d save his temper for the right people. Plopping down on the couch beside her, he grabbed the tissue from her hand and dabbed at the droplets of moisture on her face. “Hermosa, no more tears. This face deserves smiles and joy. I can’t stand it, seeing you like this. Damn Mark for putting you in this position. Pretty shitty of him not to help out with this, which, in my family, is important. I’d never leave a cousin in this position. I won’t leave you in this without help. We’re in this together.” He had to fix it, looking at her now. They’d gone through enough bullshit, and if he could control one thing, it had to be this. “I’ll make everything right and see this through.”

  “How? You have enough problems to deal with.”

  “I work with your bastard cousin; I can talk to him, convince him to do the right thing. Besides, you didn’t tell me; Pru did. I have a suspicion she learned about it from him as well. You shouldn’t have to face this alone, not when you have a friend who can help you.” His best friend seemed to be more like a thorn in his paw. Dev wanted to clear the path. He stroked both of her cheeks, all red and tear-stained. She still looked every inch the warrior. Fierce and vulnerable. “What other ridiculous rules did Mark give you in the contract?”

  “Only one, I couldn’t sleep with you.”

  He smiled. “Well, I plan on breaking that one again.”

  Pressing a gentle kiss to her lips, she responded, immediately opening for him. He pulled back before they went too far and he got lost in her scent and taste. “Are you sure you want to break the rules again?”

  “Might as well.”

  18

  They wound up back in the bedroom, the shirt and shorts they both wore quickly discarded, in favor of being naked. The kisses they shared dissolved into a mutual exploration of necks, collarbones, chests. She couldn’t get enough of his lips on her skin and vice versa. She threw her head back and let him ravish her neck, nibble a trail to her ear lobe.

  “Tell me what you want.”

  “To feel this way... all over.”

  She loved when he set to his task, kissing, nipping, biting her everywhere. Her sides, breasts, stomach, thighs—and then he stopped. “I didn’t get to do this last night.”

  There were bad experiences, memories of her last boyfriend that lay just beneath the surface. Of his unhappiness with her hair or the fact his oral efforts never yielded an orgasm. Everything had been so wonderful with Dev, but she couldn’t let him do something he didn’t enjoy... When she opened her mouth to speak, he put a finger to her lips.

  “No. I beg you. Don’t deny me this.”

  The chocolate puppy eyes, the downturned lips, and the sound of those words. Another chunk of ice fell away, and the final barrier she’d kept firmly in place dissolved. Scary to think she might give him whatever, whenever. For the moment, she’d live in the here and now.

  She nodded her agreement and fell back against the pillows. The first touch of his tongue to her clit made her shiver. He repeated the action before trying out other efforts, from her labia to her center, mimicking the movements of his cock. How she wanted that part of him. Then he pulled back.

  “One moment.” He said this before opening the bedside drawer. She expected a condom. Sure she was incredibly turned on, but there was no rising pressure, no urge to thrash or throw herself around. Instead of a condom, he came back with a vibrator. A black, sleek-looking thing the size of a pickle. “Now I’ll get to taste you.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “I want to taste your orgasm on my tongue. I can tell it won’t be easy to get you there, but I love a challenge.” The look he leveled at her—serious, sexy, and fucking hot—made her want him to succeed.

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Forget the bad experiences and let me give you a new one.”

  She pushed the doubts away once more as he resumed his position, tracing her entrance with his tongue. The vibrator took his place, a cold object nestled against her vagina. He re-focused on her clit. Then he tur
ned the damn thing on a slow setting. It shot tingles up her spine, and her muscles immediately contracted as her body generated fresh, natural lube. His attention to detail and pleasure was something foreign to her; no man had ever dedicated this much focus to getting her off.

  He chuckled against her sex before nipping her clit with his teeth. She jumped this time, and as she came back, toward the mattress he pushed the vibrator in. A rhythm soon formed, maddening and delicious. He’d bite, tease, and then pump her with the vibrator. Then he’d move slowly. The constant ebb and flow between fast and turtle’s pace got her going. She was lost in the sensations, the need to have his mouth and the speed. Soon her body became so sensitive, honed like a well-strung instrument. He played her like a master. The end came sooner than she expected, starting at her center and radiating out to every part of her body.

  “Dev.”

  The vibrator disappeared, replaced with his hot tongue lapping at her like a cat at a bowl of cream. He cleaned her of her orgasm, devoured any trace of her release. When complete, he kissed her. She tasted herself, her pleasure on him, and if anything, she wanted more. He’d enjoyed himself, and she reveled in the power such a thing gave her.

  The intensity of her climax became overshadowed by the way he kissed her. Dev stripped away her worries of intimacy, of attempting to please her partner. No, he believed in pleasing her, and that jarred something loose in her mind. Only her Gran had ever cared more about taking care of Kat versus taking care of herself. Dev did the same, and she wasn’t going to survive this. No, he’d be imprinted on her heart.

  Getting lost in his kiss and the way one hand tweaked her nipple, she failed to notice him sheath his cock. Then he buried it in her, setting a brutal pace. She loved the rough way he drove into her, replacing his earlier ministrations with something wild and rabid. Then he slowed once again.

  “Why?” The question came without thought, sounding more like a plea because she wanted it rough and tumble to the finish line.

  “I don’t want to rush this.” He groaned, lifting one of her legs, to go at an even deeper angle.

  Each slow thrust drove her to a new level of torture, and her eyes drifted shut in an attempt to drown the intensity.

  “Look at me.” His words were insistent, and when she didn’t respond right away, he stopped moving. “Kat, open your eyes.”

  The soft sound of his voice did her in. She looked up at him and was unprepared for the adoration and emotion she saw there. He openly admired her, whispering words in Spanish as he made love to her body like some sort of love song. The slow procession leading them to release caused her body to arch off the bed.

  “Please Dev, hurry… I need to come.”

  He increased the pace and refused to let her stop looking at him, to break their connection. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then she sold hers during the final stretch toward the finish line.

  They arrived in the victory circle together. This time, it was both of them losing control, letting a part of them explode free.

  He shouted. “Kat! ¡Ay Dios!” As his breathing came back to normal he let go of her leg and rolled onto his back.

  She missed the weight of him on her. Scary, as she’d not been a fan of closeness in the past. He interlinked their hands, a sweet reminder of how he wasn’t like the others before him. Her Gran had always said a man who worships a woman is a keeper. Why had that thought popped into her head now?

  “You’re a miracle, you know that? I can’t get enough of the sounds you make.”

  His words caught her off guard, and as she turned her head to respond, her stomach grumbled. She groaned, trying to mask the worst of it.

  Dev laughed. “Even the ones from your hungry stomach.”

  “Really?”

  Dev rolled to face her, caressing one cheek with his free hand. “All of you deserves admiring. Now, give me ten minutes, and then we’ll have brunch.”

  Once he left the bed, the feel-good endorphins started to fade, and she dreaded the coming week, the confrontation Dev would have with Mark and Pru’s next move. Those fears proved she’d saddled herself with an even bigger problem—a possible broken heart.

  Dev walked into Bona Fide on Monday determined to keep his dread under wraps. He tried to hold on to his anger on Kat’s behalf toward her bastard cousin who’d convinced her to enter a fucked up business deal for the money. Sure, some of his anger he’d save for Pru. That evil woman needed to leave him and his personal life alone… leave Kat alone.

  The weekend they spent together proved the connection between them wasn’t a fluke. They’d spackled and repaired the holes in her hallway walls, gone for a jog. Every hour a new adventure. He’d almost asked her to come to his family’s Sunday dinner next weekend, but refrained in order to keep things light. Besides, if he brought her to dinner, they’d think it was serious. A part of him wanted things to be serious, the same part of him that had gotten lost in her body and sucked in by her open gaze as they’d made love in his apartment. There had been a few times after that, including a passionate, rushed encounter against her front door. Pru had been to dinner; his family hadn’t liked her. Mark had been to a million dinners, and his family loved the bastard.

  Think of the devil and he will appear. Mark walked out of the breakroom, coffee cup in hand, and headed toward his office.

  “Hey partner, wait up.”

  His friend stopped mid-stride. The look he cast back at Dev was not happy or angry— unreadable, like the emotionless man he’d become over the years since his father’s incarceration. When Dev caught up to him, his words were equally noncommittal. “What’s up?”

  “How was your weekend?”

  “Great, except for the phone call that woke me up Saturday and sent the very attractive blonde I’d brought home the night before scrambling from my bed.”

  “Pru’s yelling will do that.”

  “Funny how you know who it was. Bet you can tell me exactly what she said too.” Mark was never one to beat around the bush; he also hadn’t gotten the moniker “asshole” without reason, either.

  “Your office,” Dev point to the door ahead of them.

  Mark encouraged him to pass. Once in a place of privacy, a monument to the connections his partner had made thanks to Dev’s genius idea and Mark’s anal retentive financing talents, Dev spoke. “Pru’s claims are crap. She’s just jealous.”

  “Afraid that’s the problem. The claims aren’t in her mind. She asked me at the Beautification Board dinner who Kat was to you, and I told her a client and my cousin, so you can see the problem we’re in. You slept with a client.”

  “You and I both know that’s bullshit because we said this would be a pro bono deal.”

  “Not according to Bona Fide’s records; we’ve got the paperwork.” His friend’s pompous attitude—as if Dev was the bad boy, the undependable one when Mark had convinced his cousin to sign some bogus contract—grated on Dev’s nerves.

  “If you’re talking about that shitty deal with the money, that’s between you and Kat, not Bona Fide.”

  “No, I am talking the profile paperwork, expenses filed, all that shit. She’s got a file here and everything.”

  “Fine, but who told Pru about Kat’s deal with you, and why the hell didn’t you just give her the money? Kat has met all my requirements for the makeover; she completed your agreement.”

  Mark shook his head and set his coffee cup on the edge of his desk. “But sleeping with you was a deal breaker. While I’m pissed Pru found out about your little sheet romp, thanks for saving me a bunch of money. If you get some new clients quickly she may forget. At least the other investors will be more forgiving, and you’ve proven you’re ready to help female clients again. It’s all a win-win.”

  Dev curled his hands into fists and kept them at his sides to prevent them from flying at Mark’s face. His partner moved behind his desk and sat down. Then Dev took a seat, but the action didn’t quell his thirst to physically harm the man.
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br />   “Let’s not change the subject. We slept together after she completed the makeover. A loophole. As for Pru, she can whine all she wants. You’re the one who told her about Kat being a client and set her on a jealous tirade. You even told Pru about the money. With Bona Fide, it doesn’t really matter until the board is aligned. Unless you’re going to fuck me over like you did your own family.”

  “You keep implying I care, but she’s related to my rat-bastard father. I could give two fucks what happens, though my mom might complain.”

  For the first time ever, Mark disgusted him. Sure, he possessed the ability to be cruel, crude, and even crass, but the caring person Dev had known had disappeared somewhere along the way.

  “What happened to family first?”

  “When your father steals for years and gets busted with your teenage brother robbing a classmate’s house and tries to sell his son up the river for a reduced sentence, then talk to me. She’s related to him; the fact she hasn’t tried to steal before is a surprise.”

  “You can’t relate people to other’s actions.”

  “Really? Then Pru’s nasty ways are not influenced at all by her dead husband’s abusive tendencies and her tyrant of a mother? Kat’s mother had a few shoplifting issues years ago. Says something.”

  “Says you’re an asshole.”

  Mark took a sip of his coffee and smiled. “I’ve never refuted that fact, and the contract we have trumps everything. It states Kat must abstain from any physical relationship with employees of Bona Fide for six months following the completion of the makeover and the stipulations of the contract.”

  “Culo.”

  “Changing languages doesn’t affect the result.”

  Dev stood and slammed a fist on Mark’s desk. Words weren’t cutting it. “You can’t possibly keep on this course of action; she needs a break. She’s been fighting against a force nearly impossible to beat. We’ve been in the business of helping the downtrodden for years, no matter what. It’d be great if you offered this up out of the goodness of your cold, misshapen heart.”