Beautiful Things Evil People Do

by Kailee Reese Samuels

  “There you go,” he urges with a smirk. “You’ve found your fire, now aim.”

  I stride over with his eyes glued to me. “How hard?”

  He shrugs. “Test it out. You’ll find your happy place. But don’t wrist swing, or you’ll be the one on ice tomorrow.”

  “… Whole arm?”

  “Yes, but…” With my eyes as wide as saucers, I pop him once, and the skin flushes crimson. He breathes and clears his throat. “As I was saying, the full swing motion tends to render a harder impact. It’s like anything else you swing—baseball bat, golf club…”

  “Chugging back a wine bottle,” I interject. “Tossing back shots.”

  Tilting his head down between his arms, he snorts with laughter. “Sure! Put your full body into motion.”

  “Are you counting?”

  “So far, you have one.”

  “Asshole!” I pull back and strike his ass hard. “Is this arousing you?”

  “Not so much the spanking, but experiencing your battle within yourself is giving me a hell of a raging hard-on.”

  “Fine.” I drop the paddle on the table. “Show me how it’s done, Master.”

  “It’s always important to be aware of where the submissive’s head is at.”

  “This bitch’s head is going to explode in about five seconds.”

  “You want your bottom to feel safe and secure.”

  “Or, in your case, your helpless victim pleading for you to whip her ass raw and take it already because you’re just too much man.”

  Glancing over the goods, he snickers and picks up the paddle, sensually stroking the wood like an additional appendage. “Baby, I’m not too much, man. And you were never a victim.” He fires off round after round of rhythmic swats to my ass. My ass pulses with his wanton desire. I make him nervous, and he funnels the energy through his fetish. “I cannot wait to peel off those red lace panties.”

  “Does this turn you on?”

  “Yes,” he huffs, slapping the wood to my ass. “I love the power you give me.”

  Tears come to my eyes as the welts fester with his every swing. His breathing intensifies as sweat glistens on his skin. I understand the psychology of a Dominant, but having the courage—the balls to do it—is another game that I don’t belong in.

  Beneath the black trails of mascara tears, I smirk, knowing I failed the practicals, but nailed the mindfuckery. “… Why?”

  “Because I get off on hurting you.”

  “Happy Birthday, Jynx!”

  25

  Poke. Snap. Sting.

  Echo

  Clutched to his arm, I walk alongside his imposing, confident stride through the restaurant. In my black Armani dress, I feel the stares of the well-to-do and elite. I present as the perfect mistress, trophy wife, or expensive escort for the night.

  I will never change their perception.

  What they think of me…

  Who they believe I am…

  What they conjure Jynx and I to be…

  On the surface, we appear like the respected tech guru and his prized princess. I know better, but it stings in a way I don’t expect. I have always preferred knowing the intensity of the bite before the burn.

  This time, I don’t get that option.

  When I was a little girl, I used to like to play with bugs. I would let them bite me. In fact, I would encourage it. I had this crazy masochistic streak, even then at knee-high. Better to know that bees would swell up my arm and wasps would pinch for a moment and spiders…well, I barely felt them at all. Ants were the worst because even when I knew their voracious snap of jaws was about to happen, the anticipation would send a chill through my spine.

  I did this with insects, arachnids, dogs, cats, hell, even humans.

  I wanted to feel the bite.

  Later, as a teenager, Brandon had a pet snake—I don’t even remember its name or what species it was. Of course, I had to taunt it one day while feeding it a frozen mouse. The snake lunged for my arm, latching on and repeatedly striking me, three times in all. I was in the emergency room a half an hour later.

  With his Grandma’s pair of diamond tennis bracelets encircling my arm, I rub the snake scar near my wrist as we sit down at the table. I smile, make pleasantries, and quickly acknowledge that attending the boy’s meeting was the worst thing I could’ve done.

  To calm down, I think about the tattoo on my back, beginning a mural to reflect my yearning for things to clamp their chompers into my flesh.

  All of my best friends will be there.

  Every creature I can remember biting me.

  I have little interest in the meeting between Theodore Dower and him, or he, who cannot keep his hands off of me tonight. If his hand slides any further up my skirt, he’ll be strumming my clit.

  I smile and laugh, acting the lead female role through hors d’oeuvres and drinks, but when old Teddy—and he acts ancient—gets up to use the little boy’s room (his words, not mine), Jynx tosses a sexy glance in my direction.

  “Enjoying yourself, Ms. Maines?”

  I lean into his arm and whisper, “I’m thinking about how good your big…hard…cock will feel in my wet…pussy.”

  “Jesus Christ,” he groans, licking his lips. “Is that so?”

  “Yes,” I reply, reaching down between his thighs and giving him a dose of his own medicine. “Mr. Monroe, I do believe you’re going up!”

  Shaking his head, he snickers, “You could say that.”

  “I want you to bite me,” I ask, snapping my teeth on my lip. “Hard.”

  “And what location did you have in mind?”

  “Everywhere,” I taunt as Teddy returns. I offer a smile.

  “You’re quite the lovely girl, Echo,” he says as Jynx tightens his grip on my thigh. “What do you do?”

  “I’ve recently taken a position with Peacock as the head of the human relations department,” I reply, giving myself an upgrade as Jynx imparts a stern glare. “I’m also doing performance coaching.”

  “Masters?”

  “Yes, Sir, in psychology,” I answer as Jynx’s fingers tap against my bare inner thigh. “I’ll be working from home in the fall as I plan to return to college for my doctorate.”

  “Psych again?”

  “Probably,” I say, tilting my head. “Unless I decide to go another route and work toward my MBA. I believe in Jynx and his ability to lead Peacock Consulting into the future.”

  “You should consider putting a ring on this one’s finger, J.”

  “I am, Sir.” My eyes beam with a shocked gaze because he just admitted his intentions in front of this old geezer, but he won’t with me. “Echo is everything I ever wanted in a life partner.”

  Life partner?

  What the fuck is that?

  I want to be your damn wife, your bitch in heat, your slut on my knees, your whore that you can call upon any time—day or night—for a deposit of the content contained in the sack I’m gripping.

  I’ve been reduced to—life partner.

  “It will be good to see children from one of the Monroe brothers.”

  Jynx strokes his chin. “My brother will never have children.”

  “You and Axel should come to work for me.”

  His fingers gouge into my thigh as I stutter, “… In Phoenix?”

  “Well, we’re based all over the West Coast, but our consulting division is new, and I’d like the Monroe brothers at the helm. I’m willing to buy out whatever you’ve started building with Peacock. I promise to hire all of the employees, including your girl. And I’ll put it all in writing. I’ll give you more than fair market value.”

  I understand generational deficits, but this fucker just called me a tramp at the table. At the very least, he thinks I’m not worthy of being a freethinking woman in the twenty-first century. His antiquarian views send a searing rage through me. My blood is boiling, and my temperature bubbles over.

  “Excuse me.” I rush through the dining room, out into the rec
eption area, where a bar is. I stride up the counter and pant, “I need a double whiskey, please.”

  I pay for the drink and walk out onto the balcony where I find an empty seat in a secluded spot. I need some fresh air. Taking a sip, I notice Jynx by the elevators and he spots me. But he doesn’t hurry, taking his own sweet ass time. He sits across from me and lights a smoke.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “He wants you to sell something you’re just starting.”

  After gazing out into the night sky for a long beat, he focuses on me. “I never truly considered the idea of running my own business. This happened by accident, but it’s not too late to shift gears and detour the direction. I think Dower’s offer is worth listening to. He wants to meet with the full board of directors and me next weekend.”

  I repeatedly nod. “So that’s it? We spend a month busting our asses, and you get the first offer and decide to pull out?”

  “It’s not like that,” he sighs, agitated. “I did what I did because I knew I could save all of those former employees a headache and heartache if I created Peacock. It wasn’t about me running a business. It was about taking care of people because that is what it’s always about for me.”

  “Jynx Monroe with the black heart made of fucking gold,” I sass, trying not to cry. “He called me your girl.”

  “He’s fucking seventy-eight years old, Abby.”

  “Don’t even,” I warn.

  “You won’t be my girl.”

  “I won’t?” I toss back the whiskey and stand up. “That’s probably for the best!”

  “Sit down.”

  Fuming, I give him the evil eye and purse my lips tight. “No!”

  He jets up from the chair. “Sit your fucking ass down right now, or I swear I will take you over my lap, lift up your thousand dollar dress, and put on a show you will not soon forget.”

  I do it—mostly cause the dress is fabulous.

  And the sexy shoes with their high ankle straps aren’t too bad either.

  “Now what?”

  “I don’t know,” he says, exhaling a cloud of nicotine above my head. “I will need to consult with my head of HR, who is currently soaking in her own juices.”

  “May I get you another?” A waitress asks, passing by.

  “Two, please,” Jynx adds as I watch her walk off. “Talk to me.”

  “You need to get back to Teddy and his misogynistic ways.”

  “Abigail Renata…”

  “Oh, great,” I say, slumping in the chair. “We’re losing ground, J.”

  “No, we’re not. You’re being unreasonable. What would you have me do?” His fingers tuck under his chin. His calm approach to battle gets under my skin just like the rest of his character’s flaws, which aren’t flaws at all. Jynx is flawless in my eyes. “I don’t want to become my father.”

  “So don’t,” I whisper as the waitress sets down our drinks. “Do it better.”

  He hands her a few bills, and she leaves. “You’re not listening to me. I don’t want to do it at all. I did it for the employees. Those people have families, and those jobs put food on the table.”

  “Your heart is huge,” I respond, picking up my drink. “And you deserve better than Theodore Dower. But you’re the big man; you do whatever you want. We can kiss Houston goodbye.”

  “… We?”

  “I wasn’t going to go back to California, Jynx.”

  He moves to sit on the edge of the table. “What do you mean you weren’t going back to California? What about school?”

  “What about us?” I question, and he curls his lips, striving to find an answer. “You never planned on me staying past September.”

  “I never thought you would.”

  I smile and reach for his hand. “I gave myself a promotion, Boss.”

  “Better watch it. I’m going to give you a promotion.”

  “I won’t be your life partner,” I inform, staring into his eyes. “I’ll be your wife or your bitch, but life partner is out.”

  “So is Old Lady,” he reminds with a chuckle. “Anything else you need to stipulate, Miss?”

  “Don’t go there right now, Jynx.” The combination of alcohol and the intensity of his gaze sends a chill through me. “You should go back inside.”

  He rises and extends his hand. “Come with me?”

  “As your life partner?”

  “No,” he counters, without reaction. “As the slut that’s going to suck my cock on the way to the club.”

  My eyes flare-up to his in a panic. “… What club?”

  “His son, Edward, just arrived, and Theo wants to hit a bar,” he replies. “And you’re going with me.”

  “Am I stained?” I ask as we leave the car with the valet at the upscale strip club. The rain is pouring down in buckets.

  “No,” he says, grinning. “Nothing like doing seventy and ejaculating.”

  The bright lights flash, and the music thumps when I notice the line to get inside holds very few women. “What am I thinking?”

  “You’re trusting me.” His fingers lace into mine when we walk through the door. “We’re having two drinks and leaving.”

  Standing on my tiptoes, I crane my neck to peer inside the noisy club. “What if I want to dance?”

  “On a bar? No. With me? Sure.”

  We follow the hostess to our private booth with a grand view. Someone paid a pretty penny for this on a Saturday night. Shots are flowing when we sit down. “Eddie, this is…”

  “The girl from my wedding!”

  “Yes,” I laugh as Jynx smirks. “I worked at The Vinery.”

  Technically, I still do.

  I abandoned my life because I was abducted by a crazy man who happens to be incredibly suave and sophisticated. He also owns a magnificently large cock that I want to tame or maybe I want his untamed dick to claim me, either way.

  “Are you ready to come work with me, Echo?”

  “I’m considering all of the possibilities.”

  Jynx blinks, hiccuping like the idea of thinking about our options is unrealistic. “I’ll be honest. We have several offers on the table.”

  “I figured you would,” Teddy adds, mesmerized by the girls. “But no other option can give you the security of an upstanding company like Dower.”

  Ed continues, “You don’t want the trouble of getting involved with Deacon Cruz.”

  “He is my cousin.” The anger perks in Jynx’s voice. “We stand to do quite well.”

  My fingers dig into his leg, attempting to dissuade a bar brawl from breaking out as I stare longingly at the almost empty dance floor. I have no clue why there is a dance floor in this strip club, but a darling silver-haired couple is putting on a show. “Let’s go!”

  I hop up, and he quickly follows me. In his arms, we sway to the sensuous beat. “What is he talking about?”

  “Cruz offered to partner with Peacock with the hope that we could build the business to compete with Dower.”

  My expression contorts. “This is a no brainer. Why aren’t you doing it?”

  “Because Cruz’s money is dirtier than one of these girl’s snatches,” he informs, twirling me around. “And it means I will be getting in deeper with the club because it’s all connected. I didn’t figure you would support the idea if you knew I was growing Peacock with mob money.”

  “… Mob?” I whisper very low as my lip quivers. “Like bang bang?”

  “Yes,” he laughs, rolling his hips into me. “Like bang…bang.”

  Oh, God, he’s making light of this by seducing me.

  The only other couple smiles, and we switch partners for a good minute. I don’t mind. The older man is a grand dancer, spinning and dipping me. I’m far more concerned with the sixty-some diva batting her lashes at my man. Surprisingly, I’m getting very turned on by their innocent flirtations.

  Reality hits like a landslide—

  Jynx Monroe could be my man.

  We politely part ways, returning to our
respective mates. “I need out of here,” I say with tears in my eyes as girls roll on stage and shake everything the good Lord gave them. Teddy and Ed are getting lap dances when I implore, “Please, Jeremiah.”

  Call your safeword.

  “Come on.” With determination, he grips onto my hand, and we escape out a side exit to the torrential storm. His jacket comes off, and he yells, “I’ll go get the car. You stay here under the awning.”

  “Jynx!” I shout over the driving rain and thunder. I latch onto his shirt and passionately kiss his lips. His mouth beckons, wanting me just as much as I want him until we briefly separate and our eyes lock with nothing but love.

  He glances around the empty backlot and picks me up, pushing my body against the side of the building. His mouth is insatiable, and I fall into the dreamy concoction that is our addiction.

  Fuck the dress.

  Fuck the shoes.

  Fuck the Doctorate.

  “Goddammit, I need you,” he roars, bearing down on me. “You weren’t supposed to happen, Ek. I had my life, and it was good.”

  “How good was it, though?”

  “Not good enough!”

  Propped between his frame and the building, I feel his fingers delve between my thighs. “I’m not wearing any panties.”

  “Fuck, you’re a naughty whore.”

  “Do it, Jynx! Do it! Make me yours!”

  He shakes his head. “I’m fucking hard as stone, but there is no way I’m letting you lose your virginity against the wall of a strip club.”

  “I don’t care anymore,” I compellingly argue. “I just want you. I want to lose it with you.”

  “You kids need to move along,” a wrinkled man in a security guard uniform warns from his golf cart. “The place for live performance is about seven hundred miles north.”

  “Apologies, Sir!” Jynx respectfully relays.

  “It’s alright,” he cackles nodding. “If my wife ever looked that good, I would’ve done the same thing at your age. Have a nice night!” He waves.

  We laugh, holding hands and running in the rain to the valet. Jynx hands our ticket over, and I beg, “Stop thinking about the gap.”