Stealing Beauty (Fairy Tales After Dark Book 1)

by Jessica Collins

  “Guess we both struck out,” she said fanning herself with her hand. “I think I need a shot.”

  Cynthia motioned to the bartender, “Two lemon drops, and hurry.”

  Drinks poured, Cynthia handed one to Belle. “Fuck him for not knowing what he’s missing.”

  They clinked glasses and took the shot. “And fuck him for making us wonder what we’re missing.”

  Belle laughed and signaled for another round as she sighed. “Why are all the hot ones assholes?”

  Chapter Three

  Closing time came and went. While all of the employees helped clean the tables and kitchen, Belle’s thoughts of the sexy stranger caused her to finish behind the bar slower than usual. The fact she and Cynthia had a couple of drinks at the end of the night didn’t help. She had an Uber waiting outside for her to finish.

  Finishing the last task of the night, cleaning the speed rack, she was about to walk from behind the bar towards the exit when the front door opened. She called out to Cynthia, only having gotten her own ride a few moments ago, “What’d you forget this time?”

  When she turned to look at her friend, she realized it was Gabriel — and he was closing the distance between them. As he stalked up to her, her stomach clenched. His dark jeans and t-shirt reminded her of the man from earlier, and she couldn’t help her physical reaction. Why does he have to be so damn hot?

  “How did you get in?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. Was I really that irresponsible to not lock the door? No more drinking after work.

  “Thought you were funny with that little stunt, huh, Belle?” His tone was thick with unmistakable malice as he walked through the opening of the back bar, trapping Belle among the glasses and bottles.

  Belle acted innocent. “I thought you enjoyed your time with the twins. They can’t stop bragging about all of the times they’ve spent the night with you.”

  “I think you know exactly how I feel about them. You think leading me on is some kind of joke? That kind of shit severely pisses me off, Belle. The way I see it, you owe me.”

  He slinked towards her as she involuntarily took a step backwards. She was alone, a bit buzzed, definitely horny, and with someone who could do whatever he wanted to her. She needed out of this situation before she did something she regretted.

  “You should leave.” Her voice wavered, betraying the confidence she was trying to feign.

  “I don’t think you’re in any position to tell me what I should do.” In two large steps he had her in his grasp. She tried to pull back but his hand found her hair, pulling her head back to face him. She inadvertently elicited a small gasp at the sensation. Her hands found his arms, the hardness under her fingertips more welcome than she wanted to admit. He stared down at her for a few moments, saying nothing. She could feel the rise of his chest against her with each breath.

  “What do you want from me, Gabe?” she whispered, not making any effort to move. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her to him. The heat of his body coupled with the intensity at the way he looked at her, the way he held her, and she felt herself relax against him.

  His lips crashed into hers. Her surprised gasp allowed his tongue into her mouth. She tried to push against him, yet the hand in her hair held all the control. As his lips glided against hers, the image of Aleksandr from earlier flooded her memory. The way his deep blue irises bored into hers, the smooth baritone of his voice, the imagined strength of his body — she found herself giving into the kiss, imagining it was him. It was only after feeling his hair between her fingertips did she realize she had pulled him closer.

  He turned them, pressing her back against the bar top. She shuddered at the sensation of his fingertips tracing up the back of her thigh, under her skirt. He continued moving his fingers up, under her panties, until he grasped her ass, pulling her against the length of him.

  Her eyes squeezed tighter at the sensation of him against her. She envisioned Aleksandr on top of her, her legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into her. She was deliriously dizzy from the alcohol now hitting her system, and the sensations against her were perfection. Fingertips continued to inch forward, now brushing against her slit. When Gabriel groaned as he inserted his finger into her, she was snapped out of her fantasy, realizing she allowed this to go too far.

  “Gabe, stop,” Belle spoke against his mouth as she let go of his hair.

  With a frustrated growl, he pulled his mouth away and stared into her eyes as his finger continued to move inside of her. “I’ll tell you what Belle. I’ll stop when you come.”

  “What?” She tried to wiggle back yet it only served to allow him to rub against her sensitive inner wall. She moaned in spite of herself as her eyelids fluttered closed. As if sensing her relenting, his thumb found her clit and he moved it in a slow circle against it.

  He loosened his grip on her hair as a sinister smile formed on his lips. He leaned forward to whisper against her ear. “You can either allow me to make you come, or I can force it. Your choice.”

  Belle’s heart raced. With the grasp he still had on her hair she knew she couldn’t move. Part of her didn’t want to get away, yet she knew when sober she would regret allowing him to continue. His thumb continued to rub against her, and coupled with her state of mind, she was having trouble being as firm as she intended. “Don’t … don’t do this,” she whispered.

  She winced as another finger inserted itself. Even her body was conflicted, half fighting against the intrusion, and half accepting it.

  A concerned thought entered her mind. He could really hurt me if I don’t let this happen. Unable to avoid his continued penetration, Belle again imagined the sexy stranger from earlier, Aleksandr; imagined they were his fingers inside of her instead.

  She remembered the hardness of his chest pressed against her, the deep, soothing sound of his voice, and the sexy way he smirked at her. She sank further into her fantasy with each passing moment as she allowed Aleksandr to move his fingers inside of her. He gently pulled her head back further as he kissed the sensitive skin of her neck.

  Goosebumps rose on her skin with the combination of his fingers and his mouth. He again found and pushed against her inner sweet spot, and she felt herself getting wetter as he moved in and out. She felt her breath hitch when he gently nibbled her neck.

  “I knew you wanted this, Belle. I’m going to make you feel so good you’re going to beg for it.”

  Gabriel’s voice broke through her fantasy. Her body and mind were fighting against each other, one wanting this to continue and the other wanting it to end.

  The pressure inside of her began to build. His fingers pumped in and out as his thumb circled against her. His mouth moved down her neck, tongue teasing her breast just above the neckline of her dress. He groaned again as his tongue flitted under the fabric. The sounds of his desire played into her fantasy and added to the intense heat. His fingers began moving faster as did her breathing. This shouldn’t feel so good. Oh, God, why does this feel so good?

  “Imagine me inside of you, Belle. Pulsing in and out as I fill you with my cock. This is nothing compared to how good I’ll feel inside of you.” She groaned at the words. Her mind had somehow allowed her to hear the words in Aleksandr’s low, husky voice. She could almost feel him on top of her, their bodies intertwined.

  She whimpered, her knees growing weaker as the intensity of the pleasure grew.

  “There you go, sweetheart.” The endearment brought her back to reality as Gabriel’s fingers and thumb moved faster, pushing harder against and into her. The heat which started in her stomach now worked its way down. So close. I … can’t … can’t allow this…

  “Gabe, stop.” She once more pushed against his chest, yet he only laughed.

  His mouth left a trail of kisses back up her neck and hovered near her ear. “No. I’ve been waiting for this far too long.”

  She tried to wiggle away from him, yet just as before, it only served to allow his fingers to push again
st the most sensitive parts of her. As if sensing her struggle, he pushed his finger harder into her clit, the pain-pleasure sending her nearer to the edge. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop the rush which was about to come.

  “Stop, I can’t … I … Oh,” waves of pleasure crashed into her. Her orgasm hit like a freight train, hard and fast, and he kept pushing into her, extending the pleasure. She clamped around his fingers, pulsing with each thrust.

  “Say my name, sweetheart.”

  The word erupted before she truly realized she said it aloud. “Aleksandr…”

  Riding the remnants of her orgasm, she didn’t realize he stilled.

  “What?” He roughly removed his fingers, her back hitting the bar as he let her go.

  She had to force herself to clear her head from the sensations. She struggled to catch her breath as she opened her eyes and brought her brain back to a functioning level. He was heaving with breath as his hands balled into fists at his side. She could practically feel the anger radiating off of him. His blue eyes turned to ice, narrowing at her, before he turned around and punched the glass behind the alcohol bottles. The mirror fractured around his fist, cracks emanated from its center.

  He had just destroyed one of the only things in the bar they hadn’t had to replace.

  “What are you—” she started to yell at him, yet he whizzed back around and grabbed her throat, lifting her to her toes. Her hands instinctively went to his, trying to pry him off of her before he completely cut her airway off.

  “Fucking bitch.” He picked up a bottle of tequila from behind him. Belle closed her eyes and tried to turn, fearing the pain at any moment. She heard him grunt a few seconds before registering shattering glass behind her.

  He pulled her into him, his nose touching her as he spoke.

  “Doesn’t even fucking matter, Belle. I own you. I own you, and your pathetic bar.”

  My bar? Just as suddenly as he had grabbed her, she was dropped. She gulped in air.

  “As of Monday, this is all mine.” He laughed chillingly, “Perhaps you should’ve paid your rent. I warned you not to fuck with me. But you couldn’t help yourself. You’ll beg to work for me to survive; to give me anything I want. I’ve already gotten parts of myself inside you, Belle. It’s only a matter of time before I finally and completely fuck you. Financially was only the first step.”

  He turned, shoving her with his shoulder as he did, and walked out from behind the bar and towards the entrance.

  He stopped with his hand on the door handle, looking around. “Enjoy the little time you have left in here, sweetheart.” He laughed as the door slammed behind him.

  Belle wiped the steam off of the bathroom mirror the next morning, her shower doing little to ease her mind. The half-baked fantasy about Aleksandr had blocked out what was happening in the moment, but after Gabriel left, the hard reality of his violation set in. While still sitting at the bar the night before, and with shaking fingers, she’d dialed the police, knowing it was going to be more than likely a fruitless endeavor.

  Gabriel’s late father had been the chief of police, and was looked at in reverence. He was an amazing man, kind, always willing to help others — Belle often wondered how Gabriel had been cut from the same cloth. Gabriel made it obvious he would have nothing to do with the police force, yet his best friend, Jake Winters, used the connection to work his way to the top. When Gabriel’s father died, he was quickly dubbed the new Chief. As if it weren’t enough, three of Gabriel’s cousins were officers. In the mind of the town, Gabriel had free reign and could do no wrong. It wasn’t a surprise during the phone call when Jake had just laughed at her.

  “Come on, Belle. You can’t cry assault just because you’re regretting your decision.”

  “I asked him to stop and he didn’t.”

  “Did you come?” he asked, matter-of-factly.

  “What?” Belle was positive she hadn’t heard him correctly. Her heart started racing, knowing where his accusation was headed.

  “Did. You. Come?” He enunciated each word.

  “What difference does it make?” It took everything she had not to let the tears start. Jake’s question left her feeling violated for a second time.

  “You did. I knew it. You don’t come when it’s not wanted, Belle.”

  She began to protest when he continued, “Besides, I just talked to Gabriel, had to listen to him for ten minutes bragging about how your moans were ‘music to his ears’. Or did he just make that up?”

  Belle huffed before continuing. “What about the damage, Jake? He can’t just destroy my property.”

  “Except it’s not really your property, is it? If he’s signing the deed on Monday, then what’s the point for me to open an investigation?”

  Annoyed, she had said nothing and hung up the phone. He’d found a way to twist what happened. And now, with the Chief fully on his side, there was nothing she could do.

  She shook her head to clear the lingering memory of her call to the police and got dressed. Gabriel might have taken her body, but she wasn’t about to just stand around and let him take their bar.

  She found her father sitting at the breakfast table, reading the paper and sipping a cup of coffee. She knew she would never bring up what happened with Gabe to her father. For one, it would break his heart. Secondly, and more importantly, it was too embarrassing. Jake was right in a sense; she had allowed Gabriel to continue.

  “Daddy, I have some news. Something I think we really need to talk about.”

  “Is this about Gabe?” Her father looked up from his paper.

  Unsure of what he knew, she nodded.

  “I should have told you yesterday, but I knew it would upset you, and I didn’t want to ruin your night. Looks like we’ll have to give him the keys on Monday.”

  “We have to do something. Gabe cannot take over ownership; do you know what it would mean?” We won’t be able to survive without the bar, it’s our only income.

  “Anabelle,” her father cut her off, “I don’t think there’s anything we can do. We don’t have enough to pay for this month yet.”

  Belle loved her father dearly, but this was too much. She might have inherited her father’s big brown eyes and pale complexion, but their similarities ended there. Pierre’s laid-back attitude was almost always in strict opposition to Belle’s fiery personality. It was that same fiery demeanor that had led Belle to pursue a law degree.

  As a third-year law student, she knew the landlord selling the bar before they were even a month past due was illegal, as was his refusal to assist with damages. Something was off with her father. Why won’t he fight?

  “But Dad, one month of non-payment? The landlord can’t do that. It’s not even legal — I think we should call him.” She heard her voice going shrill but couldn’t calm herself.

  “It’s Saturday. He won’t be in until Monday and by then we’ll be out of time. We’ll figure out something else, let me worry about it, okay?”

  He went back to his coffee as if they were talking about last night’s profit margin. How could he not care about this? If he won’t do anything about it, then I will.

  “I’m going for a walk,” she replied as pleasantly as she could to get away. She hurried outside, heading to the woods behind her house. Hidden behind the tree line was a little clearing near a steadily flowing stream. It was her favorite place, and she often went there to read or just to think. She laid back on the grass and let her emotions come to the surface.

  Her racing thoughts were a mess. Between Gabriel touching her, her giving in, the police calling her a liar, and him owning the bar, she felt hopeless. Tears stung the corners of her eyes as flashes of last night assaulted her. She could still smell the beer on his breath, remembering the chill that went up her back when he told her he wouldn’t stop. Her neck was sore from his fingers wrapped around her throat. Flooded with memories, she pulled her knees under her chin as she wept. Gabriel would never face repercussions for his actions and w
orse yet, he was about to become her new boss.

  She sobbed as the realization that the bar they both loved so much would be in the hands of someone so malicious, so … dangerous, became clear.

  She took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes, attempting to drown out her negative thoughts. Think Belle, you can figure out a way to fix this. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and for a brief moment she pictured him. “Dangerous sex” him. The “him” that had gotten her into trouble with Gabriel in the first place.

  Belle could visualize his blue eyes as clearly as if he were right in front of her. Deep and penetrating. She remembered his chiseled jaw line as he looked away from her. The scruff on his face had made him look more intriguing rather than unshaven. He was, by all accounts, a perfect male specimen.

  Belle wondered where he was from and why he came into the bar last night. She was certain if he had moved here, the gossip would have spread; he must have been passing through. She couldn’t recall any man having such an effect on her.

  The tears again welled in her eyes as she berated herself for allowing herself to use his image to get off with Gabriel. She couldn’t believe she gave in, allowed herself to enjoy his assault. Her stomach turned. I cannot let Gabriel own the bar. What are the other options?

  Talking to her dad was a dead end. He assumed things would “just work out”. As much as she loved him, this was one of those times she couldn’t understand him. Perhaps the stress of the recent storm and repairs had worn him out.

  Maybe I should talk to the landlord myself. Explain the situation and use some of my legal knowledge to scare him into giving us more time. I doubt he even knows the law. These skeezy landlords usually do what they want and assume all the tenants don’t know any better.

  Belle imagined him as a smelly human-rat type; balding, pot-bellied, fifty-something, rubbing his hands together as he opened the checks in the mail. I should just show up; it would make more of an impact.

  Feeling determined, she made her decision. I’ll go see the landlord and remind him of the ramifications of selling the bar illegally and give us more time to pay. Problem solved.