Flesh and Blood (Dixie Mafia Series Book 1)

by Cynthia Rayne

  A long, uncomfortable moment of silence passed.

  “Go on,” Dix said. “Tell me the rest.”

  “He pushed me against the wall, and I tried to talk him out of it.” Belle clasped her hands together. “I still don’t know why I didn’t make a scene. Why didn’t I scream? Slap his face?”

  “Everyone tells women how to dress, to protect their drinks, and to be careful when you’re alone at night—but no one tells the motherfuckin’ rapists not to sexually assault someone. It’s total bullshit.”

  Her smile was watery. “Here, here.

  “Anyway, when the resident walked in, he jumped off me. Because I didn’t make a commotion, maybe it looked consensual to her. Anyway, I stayed in the front office the rest of my shift and then took off. I should’ve explained what happened before I went home.”

  He had a sinking feeling. “Let me guess—the bastard lied.”

  “Big time. The resident informed the director, and they questioned Asshat. It didn’t look like an attempted rape to administration. And Asshat put his own special spin on it, that I was sexually harassing him. He said I’d asked him to come in early and then tried to seduce him.”

  “And they believed Asshat? He’s the one with the power in the situation.”

  “I think it’s because I was new, and he’d worked there for ten years, so they assumed he was telling the truth. And, I admit, it looked suspicious—all those offsite lunches, the flirty banter. By the time I got to work, the narrative was determined, and they didn’t believe a word I said. After a twenty-minute meeting with HR, I was fired—no recourse, no severance, and no references.”

  I’m gonna cut the man’s balls off.

  “Give me his name.” Dix would pay the bastard a visit tonight.

  “I can’t.”

  “No, you won’t.” Even after all Asshat had done to her, Belle protected his worthless hide.

  “Fine, I won’t.” She stood. “Look, I’m tired. I’ve had a rough couple of days, and I want to lie down.”

  “Of course. Tell you what, when you’re feeling better, we’ll go out for a night on the town. It’ll cheer you up.”

  “Okay.”

  Belle didn’t look too enthused. Dix would have to do something special to bring her out of this funk.

  Abruptly, Belle clutched his arm. “Please don’t do anything on my account. It’s over and done with, no sense in stirring up trouble.”

  Funny, he thought Asshat had earned some trouble.

  And Dix was itching to give it to him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A couple of weeks passed, and everything had gone back to normal, for the most part. Belle still had a constant guard which rotated—Rebel, Brax, and the security staff traded off—but David hadn’t come after her again.

  Thank God.

  She and Dix had gone on more dates. They’d fallen into a pattern of seeing each other for dinner and sex three times a week. While they used a bed instead of Dix’s desk, he never invited her to stay the night with him.

  Belle didn’t want to anyway. Talking about her former boss, Jim, had opened some old wounds. Adding those memories to the trauma she’d just gone through made Belle even more uneasy with men. So she’d been extra vigilant about her boundaries with Dix.

  One morning, there was a knock at the door, and Belle opened it to find Rebel standing there, ready for guard duty, with an enormous red box in his hands.

  “What’s this?”

  “A gift from Dix. He wants you to wear it tonight.”

  “What’s the occasion?” Belle took the package from him gingerly.

  “A date, I expect, though he didn’t say.” Rebel winked. Over the past couple of weeks, they’d developed a friendly relationship.

  This was so like Dix to arbitrarily decide what they were going to do without consulting her, but he’d paid for the privilege of having her at his beck and call. Belle didn’t have much of choice.

  “Come on. You have to know something. Where are we going?”

  Rebel leaned against the doorjamb. “I’m supposed to take you the airport.” Crimson Creek had a tiny airfield used for private flights.

  “The airport?”

  “Yup, hope you don’t get airsick.”

  As Rebel took up residence on her couch, she opened the box to find a red satin dress and matching heels, along with thigh-high stockings, garters, and lingerie. It was a very elegant, sexy outfit.

  Okay, now she was curious.

  Rebel drove her to the airfield in the afternoon. Dix hadn’t arrived yet, but Belle found another handsome man standing by a small jet about half the size of a commercial airplane. This must be how wealthy people travel—no traffic, no pat-downs, and no lines either.

  The man in question had cropped black hair and caramel skin. He wore a pair of jeans so tight they outlined his strong, muscled thighs in delicious detail. Belle wished she could say she was interested in him. Unfortunately, Dix plagued her thoughts these days.

  The man had a Four Horsemen leather vest draped over a black T-shirt. Four Horsemen—she recognized the name. An outlaw biker gang was rumored to run Hell, the town next to Crimson Creek.

  As soon as Rebel shut off the engine, she hopped out.

  “Howdy, ma’am.” He lowered his shades, peering over the top. His gaze glided up and down her legs, lingered on her cleavage, then settled on her face. “The name’s Ace, and I’m bettin’ you’re Belle Nunn.”

  He knew her?

  “Do you work for Dix?” Maybe they had an arrangement with the bikers.

  “Fuck no.” His lips twisted as though he found the very idea disgusting.

  Rebel joined them, and he scowled at the biker.

  Ace didn’t acknowledge him.

  “Then what are you doing here?” Had she stumbled into some kind of turf war?

  “I’m the god of wind and air who’s takin’ you to Dallas for the evenin’.” Ace smirked.

  Belle frowned.

  “I’m a pilot, and this here’s my plane.” He caressed the nose like it was a pet. “Her name’s Fallen Angel. Dix hired me and I ain’t as picky about gigs as I should be. But I’d take you anywhere you care to go, darlin’—free of charge.” The man was obviously a playboy, and she didn’t encourage him by smiling.

  Another biker tumbled out of the plane. He had light brown hair and blue eyes, and his skin had a golden hue, although his face was gaunt, his cheeks hollow. He wore a pair of tight jeans and a black hoodie, beneath a leather vest like Ace wore. The man couldn’t stand up straight, kept swaying on his feet.

  “This is Justice. He’ll be comin’ with us tonight. Justice, this is Belle. Say ‘hi’ to the nice lady.” Ace looped an arm around his brother, steadying him.

  “Pleased to meet ya.” Justice hiccupped, and Belle smelled a mixture of whiskey and weed on his breath.

  “Is he the co-pilot?” An image of the plane crashing flashed in her mind.

  “Fuck no. I fly alone.”

  “Is he okay?” she whispered, nodding to the other biker. Justice leaned against the side of the plane, eyes closed as though he were utterly exhausted.

  “Oh, he’ll be fine.” Then he scratched his chin. “Unless there’s blood.”

  “Why? Does he faint at the sight of it or something?”

  “Nah, he gets a mite crazy, but I got it under control.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind, little lady.”

  Another thought occurred to her. “Is there usually bloodshed on these trips?”

  Ace grinned. “Only if it’s a really fun trip.”

  Just then, Dix pulled up in his SUV. He parked and walked over to them with a frown on his face. Once again, he was dressed in a tuxedo, and Belle loved the way he looked in formal wear.

  “We’re going to Dallas?” Belle asked him.

  “Yeah, I thought we’d go to dinner and take in a show.” He kissed her cheek.

  “Which show?” Belle hadn’t been to one in yea
rs. There was something magical about the theater, and the prospect of seeing a production lifted her spirits.

  “Phantom of the Opera, of course.”

  Belle shrieked with delight and did a little dance at the news.

  Dix grinned as she threw her arms around him.

  “Thank you for taking me!”

  “You’re welcome, Red.” His face sobered as he spoke to Ace. “We’re ready to go.”

  For a moment, the pilot locked eyes with him in a silent challenge. After a minute, Ace nodded. Belle was so over the macho, alpha male criminal crap.

  “Yeah, I think my fun meter’s pegged.” He hopped aboard, and they followed him. Justice brought up the rear.

  As Ace slipped on a pair of headphones and spoke with the tower, Rebel took off in the SUV he’d driven. Presumably, Dix would take Belle home later. This left a pair of motorcycles and Dix’s Escalade in the parking lot.

  Soon, they were in the air.

  The flight was a bit over an hour, and she made small talk with Dix, who was charming and flirty. After they arrived, Ace and Justice stayed onboard while Dix helped Belle into a limo. They went to an Italian restaurant for an early dinner. After they had shrimp scampi pasta, he whisked her off to the show.

  At the theater, Dix found an usher and handed him the tickets. The man escorted them up the red velvet stairs to the boxes.

  “You got box seats?” she whispered. “How did you swing those?” They must’ve cost a fortune. She’d always seen shows from the mezzanine.

  “I called in a favor.”

  “Must’ve been some favor.”

  Dix shrugged. “In my line of work, I know how to pull strings.”

  No doubt. Belle should feel guilty, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She’d worry about the moral ramifications tomorrow.

  Soon, they were seated in a pair of leather chairs in the box closest to stage left. The box was sumptuous with red carpet and golden wallpaper. And the seats were amazing— she had a bird’s eye view of everything.

  The stage set appeared dusty and worn. The first scene took place in the future, and the theater was restored to its former glory in front of the audience’s eyes. It was a breathtaking spectacle made all the more special because this gesture was so unexpected.

  Now, if only she could see it on Broadway, which was at the top of her bucket list. Belle couldn’t stop smiling. It’d been years since she’d seen Phantom, and she couldn’t wait for the show to start.

  “So, you really like this musical, huh?” he asked.

  “No, I love it. The Phantom is so romantic.” Sighing, she fell back against the seat.

  “Romantic? From what I read, this guy has a Freddy Krueger face.”

  “You read up on it?” Belle was surprised he’d given it any thought.

  “I was curious. Why’s the ugly guy so dreamy?”

  “He’s not ugly, not on the inside, anyway. Phantom loves Christine—he’s completely devoted to her. After she lost her father, Christine was left with nothing. She was poor, out on the streets, but got a job at the opera house as a chorus girl. The Phantom acts as her guardian angel, maybe more of an avenging one. He protects her and helps her learn how to sing, but Christine is frightened by him.”

  “Why?” Dix cocked his head to the side, studying her.

  “Because the Phantom kills to protect himself and Christine. He’s got this whole dark and dangerous vibe. To be with him, she’d have to live in darkness. Spoiler alert, Christine can’t do it, so she chooses a boring, safe man instead.”

  “What about you? If you’d been Christine, who would you have chosen?” He leaned forward as though the answer really mattered to him.

  Belle fell silent.

  In school, Belle had never understood why Christine wanted the handsome but dull viscount when she could’ve had the far more interesting and complicated Phantom. Phantom was a murderer, but he loved her and sheltered her at all costs. Didn’t his love for her mitigate his bad behavior?

  Now Belle wasn’t so sure. Maybe Christine had made the smart choice after all.

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  Dix turned away from her. “Sounds like she made a good decision. They were doomed from the beginnin’ because they came from two different worlds.”

  Filled with troubling thoughts, Belle didn’t reply.

  Soon, the lights blinked and the show began.

  “Are you ready?” Belle shook off the doom and gloom, determined to enjoy the evening.

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  “You won’t be disappointed.” As the powerful intro music played, the chandelier floated to the ceiling, and tears streamed down her face.

  “Are you cryin’?” Dix squeezed her hand.

  “Yeah, because I’m happy.” She brushed a kiss over his knuckles. “Thank you again for bringing me.”

  “My pleasure.” Dix wrapped an arm around her, holding her as they both watched.

  After the chandelier crashed to the stage, signaling the intermission, Dix pulled the plush velvet curtains in front of the box, plunging them into darkness.

  Startled, she glanced up.

  “Come here.” Dix stood behind his chair.

  Her breath caught. Belle recognized the tone, the dark, rumbling bedroom voice that got her wet every time she heard it. And it was having the same effect now.

  Not here. Surely, he didn’t mean to take her in the theater. There were hundreds of people below in the audience.

  “But….”

  “Don’t argue and don’t be shy, Belle. No one will see us.” Dix grabbed another chair and dragged it over to the door, blocking them both in.

  As though she didn’t have a will of her own, Belle stood and walked behind his chair. Maybe she didn’t have any willpower when it came to Dix. Her breasts felt heavy, and her nipples were hard, poking against the thin gown.

  “Put your hands on the back of the chair and don’t move.”

  No escape now.

  Belle sunk her teeth into her lower lip and did as he asked. If someone had told her a month ago that she’d be having sex in a theater, she’d have said they were crazy. Now here she was, eagerly doing his bidding.

  Dix came up behind her. He freed her right breast and pinched the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He rolled it, tweaking it until it became even harder in his grasp. Then he bared her other breast and gave it the same treatment.

  “You like it, don’t you?”

  “What?” Right now, she couldn’t think.

  “Being under my control.”

  She did. It gave her license to let out the darker aspects of her nature and give in to all those wicked impulses. Because Dix had “made” her do it, somehow she couldn’t be held responsible. It was freeing.

  Dix ran a hand beneath her dress and peeled the panties down her legs. He stuffed them into his pocket then pushed a hand beneath her skirt, cupping her sex from behind.

  She gripped the chair, knuckles going white.

  “Such a wet, little pussy. You’re excited, aren’t you?” He pinched her clit, and she bit back a yelp. “Aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because I’m going to fuck you right here, under all these people’s noses,” he said gruffly into her ear. “And you’re gonna let me.”

  Belle loved the way Dix didn’t give a damn about society’s rules. He did whatever the hell he wanted. Right now, he wanted her bare-breasted in a theater box.

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Mmm, I love the word on your lips.” Dix pressed his hips into her backside, and she could feel how hard and swollen he’d become.

  “You’re gonna be quiet, aren’t you? I don’t want security runnin’ in to save you when they heard your cries.”

  “I’ll be quiet.” She stifled a moan.

  “Good girl.”

  Then Dix dragged her around to the side and pressed her face down on the seat so her cheek rested on the supple leather. He seized the edge of
her dress and tossed it up over her waist, leaving her bare-bottomed.

  “Fuck, you have the hottest ass.”

  Dix squeezed her cheeks and gave them a smack. Then he grasped her wrists in one hand and pinned them behind her back. She heard the whir of his zipper then he slid inside her, thrusting hard, fucking her.

  Belle couldn’t think, couldn’t move.

  Dix was inside her, moving hotly. He owned her—she’d been bought and paid for. It was erotic in a disturbing way. Her clit was swollen, and his momentum pushed it against the chair arm. She was so close to coming.

  Dix must have sensed this because he clasped a hand over her mouth, and she gasped into his palm. The orgasm slammed into her hard, making her knees weak. If it weren’t for Dix, she might have collapsed into a puddle on the floor.

  His rhythm faltered, then he plunged deeply into her, shaking as he came. They stayed like that for a few moments, tired, sweaty, and replete. Then he pulled out of her.

  When she turned around, he wore the laziest grin.

  Dix kissed her and pulled her clothing back into place.

  “I should go clean up in the bathroom.” Belle couldn’t stop kissing him.

  “You should.”

  But as she walked toward the door, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him.

  “No, you have to stay.” He wrapped his arms around her. “I like it better when you’re close.”

  “I have to clean up, or everyone will know what we’ve been up to.”

  He sighed. “Fine, but bein’ all responsible is overrated.” He seemed lighter somehow, silly almost. Who knew the big, scary mobster had a sense of whimsy?

  Giggling, she pulled away. This time, Dix didn’t drag her back.

  “You’d best hurry on up.”

  “Yes, sir.” Beaming, she tottered down the hall, feeling a little drunk.

  Two hours later, they were back on the plane.

  Ace kept shooting them disgusted looks as he flew them back to Crimson Creek. Justice was passed out, snoring loudly.

  She and Dix couldn’t stop touching each other. During the last half of the musical, they’d held hands. In the limo, she’d been draped over him, and now they cuddled together on a love seat.

  Belle didn’t know what to make of the evening. Her boundaries had started to dissolve.