Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Epilogue
About the Author
Coming Soon from Deep Desires Press
Dear Reader
Stealing Beauty
Jessica Collins
Copyright © 2017 by Jessica Collins
All characters are age 18 and over.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Visit http://www.deepdesirespress.com for more scorching hot erotica and erotic romance.
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For Anthony.
My husband. My rock. My number one support.
All my love.
Chapter One
“I cannot believe how much damage there is from one little storm,” Anabelle huffed as she carried the last box of vodka to the countertop.
“I wouldn’t consider a hurricane a ‘little storm’, princess,” her father replied, pulling two bottles from the box and arranging them on the back of the bar. “With the amount of water we cleared out of this place, we should’ve renamed it ‘Lily’s Fishing Hole’.”
Belle twirled her long chestnut hair around her finger as she watched her father, unable to stop herself from smiling. Despite working for hours, Pierre Lehala’s ever optimistic and jovial nature would not be deterred. Considering how close they were to completely losing their livelihood, his attitude was both surprising and frustrating. An eviction notice had come two days before, buried in a stack of supplier bills and junk mail.
“Dad, you really need to talk to the landlord about an extension on the rent. It isn’t fair of him to expect full payment knowing we’ve been closed for over a month.” She looked around in dismay at their once pristine bar. While the majority of the water damage had been cleared, the space still felt dreary.
“Belle, we’ve had this discussion — regardless of the situation, if I don’t pay on time he has every right to evict me.”
Belle frowned at this prospect. She couldn’t imagine her life without Lily’s. During the week it was nothing more than the regular local watering hole, but on Fridays and Saturdays they hosted burlesque nights; scantily clad women performing song-and-dance numbers. For their small, blue-collar town in North Jersey, the bar was the perfect ending to a heavy workweek. The spectacle drew regular patrons and curious first-timers from all of the neighboring towns, and was Pierre’s pride and joy. Other than Belle, of course.
The storm and subsequent flood had put Lily’s out-of-commission for almost six weeks. Once the waters finally receded, they’d hired help to repair the structural damage and did their best to refurbish or salvage what they could. It was far from what it had been, but to do any additional repairs they needed income.
“I wish you’d just let me speak with him,” Belle pleaded.
“No, princess. You do enough around here as it is. I don’t need you burdening yourself with the legal stuff too.”
“The legal ‘stuff’ is what I love though.” Belle sighed. This was a conversation they’d had multiple times. She often asked her father to let her help him with the larger responsibilities — the accounting, inventory, and mostly, dealing with the landlord and their lease directly. Pierre always refused, leaving Belle clueless at times to the business side of their business.
Belle often felt as if she was to blame for some of their financial struggles. Her father insisted he help pay for her to complete law school, and she could see the strain it had caused him over the past three years. She hated to admit the cost of her tuition combined with the lack of income had put them behind on rent, creating their current situation; instead, she directed her anger towards the asshole landlord who hadn’t even given them the thirty days before starting eviction proceedings.
Belle begged her father to talk to the landlord about assisting with the storm damages, yet he was told as it was an “act of God”, the tenants were responsible for the repairs, not the landlord. She knew from school this was inaccurate, yet didn’t want to fight further with her father. What kind of jerk wouldn’t take the storm into consideration, and refuse to make repairs when it’s his responsibility?
“You know, Pierre, I would be more than happy to assist in loaning you some money,” a voice near the front door remarked. “After all, you have something I want.”
Belle recognized the booming voice immediately. Crap. Gabriel Avenant, the bane of her existence.
The man was like a romance cover model; piercing blue eyes, long jet black hair, a wide chiseled jaw complete with a perfectly straight nose and smile, and one of the most amazing bodies she had ever seen. He would be perfect if he just never opened his mouth, Belle mused to herself.
Gabriel leaned against the doorway with his half-cocked smile, one hand tucked in the front pocket of his black jeans. His fitted shirt clung to the outlines of his ripped stomach and muscular chest and arms.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he said, his eyes fixed on Belle.
“Gabe, I am not, now, nor ever will be your ‘sweetheart’,” she muttered, picking up a rag to wipe down the bar top.
“No, but you should be. I promise, after one night with me you’ll never look back.”
“I have too much on my mind than to listen to you talk about yourself all night long.”
He walked up closer to her, leaning on the bar as he lowered his voice. “So, you’ve already decided I’d keep you busy the whole night?” He licked his bottom lip, gaze resting on her cleavage.
Belle rolled her eyes and sighed. According to the gossip in their small town, not only was she the only woman to decline his advances, most of the single women thought she was crazy to refuse him. He could have had just about any other woman in town, but her constant rebuttal only seemed to fuel Gabriel’s unhealthy fascination with her.
“What are you doing here, Gabe? We’re busy.” She couldn’t keep the annoyance out of her voice as she continued her task of removing the bottles from their storage boxes and cleaning them, before finally returning them to their place on the display in the back.
“I have an offer for you, Perry,” he called out over his shoulder to her father, hi
s eyes still watching her. “You need help with rent. I need help with your daughter. Convince her to be mine, and I’ll take over the rent and you can keep the profits.”
Disgust and shock registered on Belle’s face. Gabriel hadn’t been shy about his desire to sleep with her since they met in high school, but he had just propositioned her father as if she were goods for sale. How barbaric! Might as well offer him sheep with the deal.
Belle nearly threw the vodka bottle she had in her hand at Gabe’s head. She’d never admit it to him, but she’d had her share of battery-operated nights thinking about Gabe — any warm-blooded woman would. But the more she’d gotten to know him, the less she could stand his sexist, narcissistic attitude.
“Anabelle isn’t for sale, Gabriel,” her father replied, not looking up from his work, his tone acknowledging he was just as exasperated with Gabe’s advances as Belle was.
“Thanks, Dad.” She threw the rag in her hand at the sink and glared at Gabriel. “Let’s go outside and talk, shall we?”
As she stormed out the front door, it banged loudly against the wall. Not wanting her father to hear her lose her temper further, she walked around towards the alley at the side of the building, out of earshot. Gabriel followed closely behind.
It was still light out, even though it was nearing evening. Belle sighed, knowing summer would soon come to a close, and the long, warm nights would be ending.
Hands on her hips, she turned to face him. “Where the fuck do you get off thinking you can speak to my dad that way?” she seethed, feeling the heat of her anger burning her cheeks. Livid was an understatement. “I’m not an object you can buy.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” a slow smile spread over Gabe’s lips as he moved forward, forcing her to move back against the bar’s brick exterior. “I can think of a better reason to use the word fuck, can’t you?”
Her stomach fluttered. She hated how her body could be affected by someone her mind despised. Her favorite fantasy included a powerful man; she, willingly helpless while he controlled the reactions of her body. She often imagined herself tied down — sometimes even gagged — tears flowing from her eyes in pleasure, just like the women she often read about in her favorite romance novels. Gabriel’s lumberjack build combined with his towering height, exemplified the type of man she was most physically attracted to.
“Don’t change the subject. Get this through your thick head. I don’t want you.”
He grabbed her upper arm and pulled her to him. The scent of his cologne wafted through her. With his arms firmly around her waist, he buried his face into her neck. It had been such a long time since she had been physical with a man, that the weight of his body against hers caused another involuntary tingle in her stomach.
Between work and school, there hadn’t been much time for any kind of quality sex life. There had been the occasional heavy flirtation with a classmate or bar patron, but nothing resulting in anything more than a couple of make-out sessions and some heavy petting. She hadn’t been a virgin since high school, but considering how long it had been since her last time in bed with a man, she often wondered if she should consider herself re-virginized.
“I love to see you turn red when you get angry,” he whispered, his voice raspy and his lips right next to her earlobes. “It makes me imagine other ways to try and make you flush.” She heard him suck in a breath as he purred, “Mmm, you smell amazing. I bet you taste even better.”
She closed her eyes and steeled herself against her growing arousal, trying to push him away. “Keep imagining, Gabe. Not going to happen.”
His grip around her tightened. “I want you, Belle. I want to feel myself deep inside of you.”
She felt the cool brick of the wall through her shirt as he leaned into her. He bent slightly as his hand found the back of her knee, lifting her leg up around him. He pushed his rigid length against her. Her body betrayed her again by eliciting a gasp from the pleasurable sensation of him grinding into her. If this were anyone but Gabe I would be in heaven.
Belle tried to push against his chest, but he kept her firmly planted against the wall. She shivered when his warm mouth found the sensitive spot in her neck. Against her will, she closed her eyes and let him kiss her. His lips trailed along her jawline and down her neck. Her body relaxed into his as his lips met her ear. “That’s it sweetheart. I want to hear you scream my name.”
What a narcissistic asshole. Belle tensed, pushing him away. “Enough, Gabe. Stop.”
He released his mouth from her neck but didn’t let go of her leg.
Belle looked him square in the eyes and repeated, “Stop.”
He stared at her, nostrils flaring as he clenched his jaw, a tell for his frustration. Looking down at her, his fingers dug into her thigh as his weight crushed her into the wall. His body lay flat against hers as he kissed her roughly, lips demanding entrance for his tongue.
Belle squirmed, trying to wriggle free. “Let me go,” she yelled.
“Fine, Belle. Have it your way. Today.”
His grip on her thigh tightened further and she winced in pain.
“But know that I will have you. One way or another, I’m going to find my way on top of you and no amount of pleading will stop me.”
Chapter Two
“Sounds both sexy and disgusting at the same time,” Belle’s best friend Cynthia said.
The two sat in a window booth at a little coffee shop, catching up as Belle described the incident with Gabe.
“What do you think he meant? Do you think he was seriously threatening you?” Cynthia asked, mirroring Belle’s own concerns.
“I’m not sure. Part of me kind of wants to just blow it off, but another part is really intimidated. I mean, if he ever did try to force anything, I’d be screwed.”
“Literally!” Cynthia snorted, her ability to make a tense situation more tolerable through laughter, honed as ever. It took a moment, but Belle was able to laugh as well, the pressure relieved somewhat.
Belle waved to the barista for another cup of coffee. “Gabe’s always been overly confident, but he wasn’t always this aggressive. I mean, you dated him — do you think I should be worried?”
Cynthia rolled her eyes. “God, don’t remind me. The only good thing which came from us dating was meeting you, my love.”
Belle smiled. She had moved to town with her father just before her senior year. Having to move to a new school so late during her high school experience only made the sting of her mother’s death all the more painful. On the first day of school, nose down, looking at her schedule, she’d walked right into a wall of muscle. There he was, giving her one of those perfect Gabriel smiles while his eyes roved her body. He introduced himself as her “future husband”. She remembered being simultaneously turned on by his looks and turned off by his comment.
“Leave her alone, jackass,” a voice behind her had called out.
She had turned around and come face-to-chest with a supermodel; Cynthia’s height made Belle feel even more petite than her 5’3” frame. With her long blonde hair and bright blue eyes, she had reminded Belle of a faerie. Dressed in a pair of knee-high stiletto boots, a black mini skirt, and a long, blue, sequined t-shirt, Belle decided she was more of a faerie with an edge.
“Ah, Cyn. Don’t be jealous I’ve moved on,” Gabriel said. He winked and flashed a smile. “You were the best I’ve had so far.”
“Wish I could say the same for you.” She turned towards Belle as she lowered her voice. “I constantly had to get myself off after he was done — always left me hanging.”
“Fuck you,” Gabe cursed as he turned bright red.
Cynthia rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t put my worst enemy through that torture.” Laughter from the small crowd of students within earshot had sent Gabe storming off.
The barista arrived with Belle’s second latte, snapping her out of her reverie.
“So, what are you going to do?” Cynthia asked. “He’s such a sleaze. If I were you, I wouldn�
�t trust him.”
Belle bowed her head into her hands in frustration. “Why me? He can have his pick of almost every other woman.”
“Because he might be crazy, but he’s not an idiot. You’re beautiful, funny, and incredibly smart. You have your own income and are looking to make a better life for yourself. The man you choose for yourself will be an incredibly lucky guy.”
“I don’t know, maybe I should fuck him and get it over with,” Belle contemplated as she stared into her coffee. “Maybe then he’ll leave me alone.”
“What?” Cynthia exclaimed. “And relinquish yourself to the I-fucked-Gabriel-and-have-nothing-to-show-for-it-but-my-wounded-pride club? Hell no. I’ll never let you.”
Belle laughed in spite of her emotions. Sighing, she continued. “Seriously though, Cyn. It’s gotten so much worse. In the past he would make a comment or two here or there, but lately, I don’t know. I feel almost like … like I’m being stalked.”
“For a guy like him, a guy so used to getting everything he wants, you’re like his kryptonite. I mean come on, he basically owns the police department, not to mention the entire town loved his father and therefore loves him for some God-knows reason. You’re the one thing he can’t control.”
“What, so this is just the ‘love of the chase’ thing taken to an extreme? I could understand flirting here and there then, but the threat? That’s a whole different ballgame.”
“Maybe he’s finally snapped? Men change when they lose their mothers, they become completely different people. And, losing his father … he didn’t stand a chance of being decent.” The sadness in her voice snapped Belle out of her self-indulgence. It was easy to forget at one point Cynthia and Gabriel actually had a loving relationship. At least, until the nasty breakup.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, I forgot. I’ll try not to talk badly about him.”
Stealing Beauty (Fairy Tales After Dark Book 1) Page 1