Beauty & The Biker: A Dark Fairytale

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Beauty & The Biker: A Dark Fairytale Page 7

by Glenna Maynard


  “This chick, it’s more than you are telling me. She has you off balance. I don’t like seeing you this way Tris. I don’t like her. Why not just pay the father some money to do whatever it is they need and be done?”

  “Don’t,” I warn her. Rain knows I don’t like anyone getting in my personal business and Isa is personal. “I don’t give a shit if you like her. Not your place to care Rain.”

  A knock on the door of her office interrupts our conversation. Doesn’t matter wasn’t going anywhere no how and I need to go to my office and check on Isa through my computer. Rain don’t know shit about how I feel about Isabella. She could never understand, no one can.

  Seeing Ariala Perez standing on the other side of the glass door throws my head for a loop, she isn’t on schedule for tonight. I look her over. She isn’t anywhere near as beautiful as Isa. Neither of Isa’s sisters look anything like her. They favor their father more.

  “What is she doing here?”

  “I don’t know.” Rain shrugs.

  I have seen her around. She dances a few nights a week but I don’t ever deal with the girls unless I absolutely have to, that’s what I pay Rain for. If Rain is screwing around with her, I’ll tan her ass.

  “Not a word about my house guest to anyone. If you want to keep fucking your bitch over there and keep your job. You’ll keep your mouth fucking shut.” Rain tenses knowing I now know that she is dicking around where she shouldn’t be.

  She gulps. “Okay, Tris, whatever you need from me.”

  Rain opens the door letting her in. Ariala doesn’t see me and goes straight into Rain’s arms, kissing her neck and crying. Is Rain plotting behind my back to get in the way of what I am doing with Isabella?

  I’m not sure what to think about this development.

  I jerk Rain away from her visitor.

  Ariala looks blown away, she still hasn’t noticed my presence. Looks like it is time to pop a drug test on the girls.

  “We’ll talk soon,” I tell Rain as I walk out the door leaving her to handle her shit. I don’t like this. She could ruin everything. I don’t need Isa’s sister and Rain fucking; shit can go sour fast at the club when employees get in a relationship. I’ve never fucked around with any of them. I don’t mix business and pleasure. But what I really don’t need is Rain messing with my plans for Isabella.

  Against my better judgment, I go home to Isa and the temptation of her in nothing but that thin white dress. I let her out of the cell three days ago and haven’t been back since. I had to get my head together. Being so close to her with her so willing is harder than I expected. We’ve always shared a connection that no one understood. But that is what real love does. It fucks you up so bad nothing makes sense until you are with the one person who gets you like you’ve never been gotten before. That’s who Isa was to me.

  When I arrive at home she is passed out in the library. I watch as her eyelids flutter and wonder is she dreaming of me. Taking notice of her appearance, she has banged her knees up badly. I shouldn’t care. I should leave her alone, but the urge to cradle her in my arms and take care of her eats me up inside.

  Reaching out, I stroke my fingers along her jaw. She moans in response in her sleep and it is sexy the way her lips part. When she whispers my name, I lose the control I had gained by being away.

  She IS dreaming of me.

  Leaning down I press my lips softly against hers, careful not to wake her, but wanting her.

  With care I ease my arms under her and scoop her into my embrace, so I can put her in her bed where she needs to be for now, but soon she’ll be in mine.

  Chapter 9

  ISABELLA

  I am on my hands and knees in the entryway scrubbing the stone flooring with nothing more than a rag and a bucket of soapy water. Even though it is summer in the world outside, in here it is cold, dark, and depressing. I’ve not seen Tristian for three days or anyone else for that matter. Not since he flipped out on me. We were having an amazing day. I thought I was getting somewhere with that darkness he carries around inside, but as usual, his ugly side reared its head. He is mentally exhausting.

  I have spent plenty of time on my own, but at least I could still see what was going on in the outside world. Tristian doesn’t even have cable TV. He just has movies.

  I have searched all over for a phone. If there is one, I am certain it is in his bedroom, where I am not permitted. I’ve tried his door, there is no getting in unless he wants me to. I want to call and check on my father. I need to know he is okay. I have never been away from home...away from my crazy sisters. I would walk to town if I could get far enough for it to matter. I’m truly alone. But I have to make the best of a bad situation.

  That doesn’t cease my worrying though.

  What if Papi isn’t eating, what if he has suffered another heart attack? I pour more water from my bucket onto the floor and wipe as my tears fall. I know why I agreed to this but why didn’t I try to make a bargain? I really am a naive idiot.

  I’m mentally and physically exhausted by the time I finish cleaning the floor. My knees are bruised and bloodied from the hard uneven floor. My fingers ache and my knuckles are swollen.

  My dress is soiled with who knows what. My hair even hurts but I did as I was told. I scrubbed the damn floors clean; it took me all three days. I started upstairs and worked my way down until I reached the front door. I’m hungry but too tired to eat. I don’t have the energy to make it up the stairs to my bed. I end up in the library on one of the many sofas.

  **

  I am dreaming of Tristian. We are back on his motorcycle, carefree and he is being sweet. The dream takes a heated turn when he leans back, with his head resting on my shoulder. He smiles lazily and I capture his mouth in a kiss. At first it isn’t passionate but it is a kiss that says we are familiar and comfortable. But then his tongue sweeps against mine and it feels erotic. I want more and move my tongue against his as he turns into me, but we are no longer on his bike, we are somewhere in the mansion. Candlelight glows against the stone walls as he plants more kisses down my neck.

  “Tristian,” I call his name.

  The feeling of swinging awakens me. My head is bobbing up and down as my arms and legs sway. Tristian is carrying me up the stairs, weightlessly.

  “What are you doing?” I murmur.

  He drops me on my bed roughly. “Never fall asleep downstairs. I told you my brothers will take first and ask later.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper an apology, my throat dry and thirsty.

  He slams the door and as I am dozing off again he comes back, with a bowl of warm water and first aid to tend to my knees. This tender side of him seems to be rare but welcomed. I decide to stay quiet in fear of upsetting him, but I really want my phone. I could care less about the panties at this point.

  Winning Tristian over won’t be easy. I don’t know why he hates me. In time, Tristian will see he doesn’t have to be the monster his tattoos portray him to be. I know somewhere buried inside him has to be a decent guy instead of the beast he pretends to be. If there wasn’t he wouldn’t have taken the time to bandage my knees and give me a mild painkiller.

  I stare dreamily at the tattoos traveling down his neck, wondering what they look like under his clothes. Do they continue in the same fashion, showing the muscles and organs of his body?

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” He asks his voice almost seeming friendly and unguarded.

  “I was just wondering...” my cheeks flush with heat; I’ve never asked to see a man naked before. I can’t believe I am being so candid and that he is still sitting here waiting for me to continue. “Are you tattooed all over, everywhere? Can I see?”

  His eyes grow darker and unreadable. He is closed off again. “No. Go to sleep.” He gets up quickly taking the dirty water and kit with him. I hear the turning of a key; he has locked me in my room. Better than the dungeon.

  The pain meds kick in and I drift off.

  All night I keep
dreaming of Tristian, seeing him in all his glory, reaching out and touching him, tracing his tattoos with my fingers.

  There is a sadness behind his eyes. He hides under the ink covering his skin, but I see him. I see the man underneath it all and I want him like I have never wanted anything before.

  I toss and turn as I imagine the things he could do to me. He awakens such desire inside me. I feel as though I am burning from the inside out. The softness of his lips and the roughness of his hands consume my dreams.

  I picture him lying next to me in the nude as I trace my fingers and my tongue along his tattoos. He runs his hands down my sides and pulls me flush against him as we lay exploring one another’s bodies and sharing our most heated desires.

  The closing of my bedroom door jars me from my sleep. I can hear Tristian yelling at someone in the hall, but I am too trapped in my dream to find out who he is talking to.

  When I fully wake up I am sweating and warm all over, feeling feverish and having the urge to be near him.

  He is my captor and I am his pet. I shouldn’t want to hold his attention, but something draws me to him.

  Rolling over I have an ache between my legs. I trail my fingers down my body pretending it is Tristian whose touch is setting me ablaze. Warmth washes over me and I don’t know what to do with myself. It’s like having an itch you can’t scratch. I make my way out of bed and get dressed for the day ahead, hoping like hell, Tristian makes up his damn mind and decides what it is he really wants from me.

  Chapter 10

  TRISTIAN

  Not allowing her to have underwear might be the worst decision I’ve ever made. I’ve watched her the past three days over my security camera, bending over, catching little glimpses of her cunt. I want her, all of her, but I need to bide my time. I enter her room when I know she’s fast asleep, and watch her. I’m itching to just strip naked and lay next to her body. I want to feel her naked body slapping against mine as she rides me.

  I watch as she twists and turns in her sleep. She’s restless and mumbling but I can’t make out what she is saying. I imagine how it might feel to hold her naked body against mine. To bury my face between her thighs and devour her pussy, being the FIRST, LAST, and ONLY man to ever taste her essence. I want my lips coated with her taste. I want to sink inside her walls balls deep, and own every piece of her. I want her to tell me all the things she has never done and then I want to do them to her. I want her crying out my name as we become one mind, one body, one soul.

  I want her more than I ever have. My restraint is wavering as I continue to watch her. I reach my hand out and stroke her cheek. My thumb brushes across her parted lips and she moans having no idea how hard I am for her. How I wish I could crawl into her bed and awaken her with my tongue as I lick and suck on her breasts, fingering her tight, little virgin cunt.

  I’m interrupted from my dirty thoughts of the woman lying in the bed when Rain opens the bedroom door and glares at me.

  I leave the room quickly, and grab Rain’s arm pulling her down the hall. “What the fuck are you doing peeking in that room?” I growl in her face.

  “I was looking for you,” she smarts off.

  I lean in, and she pales. “You never, EVER, go in that room. That’s Isabella’s room. DON’T look at her, DON’T touch her, DON’T speak to her.”

  Rain jerks from my grip. “That’s Ariala’s sister isn’t it? What are you up to Tristian? What is it with this girl? What do you want with her? Do you have a thing for her?”

  “Speaking of,” I grit in her face. “I warned you!” I grab her arm again dragging her downstairs. “You like that little pink pussy you been licking behind my back, I suggest you keep your mouth shut. You don’t tell Ariala shit about Isa and me, or so help me Rain I will end you and your bitch will never dance again.”

  She sneers at me. “You don’t know shit Tristian. You got your head so far up your own ass.”

  I grab her jaws and squeeze. “This conversation is finished. The boys will be here soon. Party tonight. Looks like you’ll be entertaining them since you want to keep using that mouth, tonight you can put it to use.”

  Normally I’d have a few dancers come over to take care of my men after they have been on a long run, but Rain has pissed me off one too many times this past week. Time to put her in her place. She is getting too comfortable shooting off at the mouth.

  “Whatever Tristian. You want to be a dick to me and use me like a whore on dollar night then so be it. I hope watching me with your boys makes your dick achingly hard and I hope that little cock tease denies you, because I sure as hell won’t get you off.”

  “Don’t ever concern yourself with my dick, you ungrateful little bitch. How easily you forget who pulled you up from the gutter and got you away from the drugs.”

  “You think I could ever forget and not like you’ll let me. You plan to hold it over my head forever. I swear one day Tris I won’t be here for you and you’ll be sorry.”

  Pulling out my switchblade, I hold it to her throat. “You forget the fact that I don’t fucking need you. The only thing I need is sleeping in that room.”

  “Too bad you’ll never have it. You think a girl like that will ever want you Tristian. You could have had me, but I wasn’t good enough for you and thank God for small favors.” She swats my blade away nicking her finger in the process.

  “Why are you here Rain?”

  “Just thought you’d like to know Ariala quit so what I do with her is no longer your business.” She jerks away and turns to leave. “I feel sorry for you Tristian. You are your own worst enemy.” She stomps going toward the game room.

  Pinching the bridge of my nose, I feel a tension headache coming on and I have blue balls from watching Isa sleep. Fucking Rain, I don’t know why I put up with her bullshit.

  I head back upstairs and peek back in Isa’s room to find her getting dressed. My balls ache once more as she steps out of her pajama bottoms flashing me her pert ass. Next comes her tank top. She still hasn’t noticed me as she gives me a glimpse of her side boob as she pulls open the wardrobe and takes a new white dress from the hanger.

  She yelps, startled, when she finally senses me watching her.

  “Having a get together need you to get busy in the kitchen fixing finger food and shit,” I tell her ready to dart into my room, needing to get away from her. I just want to shake her and demand that she remembers all that she has forgotten, and then I want to push her up against the wall, and fuck her senseless until she forgets again, and repeat it all over again.

  Instead, I smile grimly as she nods while chewing her bottom lip. I walk away while imagining how her teeth would feel grazing over my dick before she takes me in her mouth.

  In the confines of my room, I am in heaven and hell. Laying on the bed with my knees spread apart, my pants around my ankles I grip my cock, hard, picturing Isa kneeling before me. She licks her lips and I stroke myself. Her lashes flutter as she leans forward. I pump harder. She smiles sweetly being shy as her nipples brush against my legs. Stroke. Pump. Harder. Faster. Squeeze. I see her before me in my mind, begging to suck me off.

  Goddamn I am about to blow as I crave her sweet mouth wrapped around me. I stroke and pump furiously and her tongue caresses the head of my dick licking down my shaft before capping her mouth over me. My balls tighten and I cum all over my hand, gripping my sheets white-knuckled.

  Letting out an exasperated breath, I clean my mess and head back downstairs to torture myself by watching Isa strut in barely nothing.

  **

  The guys are all here tonight for a get together. Tonight Isa will learn what it means to be in my world. I’ve kept my men away for the most part not wanting them around her. But tonight will be a good test for both of us. I want to know if she will open herself up as much as she does with me, when she meets them. I need to know that we still share a bond. I want to know if the growing attraction she feels for me is because of me, or if she thinks getting into bed with me will ea
rn her freedom and her father’s debt paid in full.

  I can’t shake my visions of her from earlier as I watch my brothers lust after her. Grabbing her ass. She laughs at something Briggs just said and it pisses me off. The longer I stare at her the angrier I become. I feel enraged all over again that she can’t remember what she shared with me.

  Rain is putting on a show, being overly affectionate, trying to get under Isa’s skin. Apparently it’s working as I see she has disappeared. I excuse myself from the party and find Isa in the library.

  Chapter 11

  ISABELLA

  The Depraved Sinners have been here all evening raising hell. I have been working my tail off serving them. Fetching them their beer, cleaning up their ashes, and fixing their snacks. A few of them have been grabbing at my butt, but I keep brushing it off, not letting them see how much it bothers me that they think I am a plaything, more so that Tristian is treating me as his toy.

  When he first called me in to their gathering, he told them to make me feel welcome and a part of their crew. I wasn’t aware that feeling welcome meant being felt up.

  I know he doesn’t owe me anything. But in the rare moments he shows me the tender side he keeps buried, I know he likes me if even it is just a little. He pretends it doesn’t get under his skin when Cyrus pulls me into his lap and nuzzles his face in my hair. But I can see the way his fist is clenched tight at his side and the hard set of his jaw as he looks away. The dark shadows of his tattoos flex under the dim light, as he gets ready to take his shot.

  Tristian is playing pool with that witch Rain, doing his best to avoid my gaze. She keeps laughing at things he says that aren’t funny and rubbing all over him. It makes me angry when it shouldn’t. He isn’t mine, but why do I feel as if he should be?

  Music is blaring through the sound system speakers hurting my ears and smoke clouds my vision. This isn’t my scene. I excuse myself, with the pretext of needing the bathroom.

 

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