Beauty & The Biker: A Dark Fairytale

by Glenna Maynard

  Once I am dressed and done mentally abusing myself I make my way downstairs. Remnants of last night are eagerly awaiting my attention. Empty bottles, dirty dishes, and overflowing ashtrays pollute the game room. Those responsible are long gone. The mess they left behind is the only proof they were ever here. Most days and nights are eerily quiet it seems. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel the eyes of his security cameras on me at every moment. What’s he need with so many of them anyway? You’d think he is guarding the national treasure.

  I pick up my discarded dress from the floor. Heat flushes my cheeks as I recall how it felt when he put me on display. Heated and dangerous just like Tristian.

  I go through the motions getting the room cleaned and by noon, all is as it should be. I haven’t seen Tristian all morning and not by a lack of trying. He manages to disappear often, but in a house this large, it isn’t hard to stay hidden.

  I wonder what he does other than trying to confuse the hell out of me. Tying the garbage bag closed, I drag it down the long hall and out the side door off the side of the kitchen. I haven’t been out here before now.

  I stuff the bag into the large metal can and place the lid back on top. There is a cobblestone path leading to an iron gate. It’s fairly hot out but I could use the fresh air of a nice walk. No time like the present to explore the grounds since Tristian doesn’t plan on showing me around any time soon.

  I make my way through the gate hoping I am breaking a rule if only for the sake of another punishment. How twisted I have become in over a weeks’ time under the roof of Vandacamp Mansion. I barely recognize myself as I pass through the gate and into the woods ahead.

  A worn path leads the way through the winding tree line. A lonely crow calls out in warning, telling me to turn back. I know that I should heed his warning but I can’t. The allure of what Tristian will do to me next is all too appealing.

  As I am walking along the snap of a twig in the dead silence of the forest spikes my pulse. Turning my head, I glance over my shoulder to find a squirrel running up the side of an old birch tree. Feeling stupid for being scared in the first place, I continue forward until I come to a clearing housing a greenhouse.

  It feels vaguely familiar. I feel as if I have been here before. But surely I would remember this if I had.

  The small glass building has vines covering the sides and spreading across the roof. It blends in seamlessly with the surrounding area. I wonder how long it has been here and if it is still in use? As I draw nearer, I can hear the faint chatter of someone talking. Tristian.

  Peering through the dirty glass, I can barely make him out among all the plants inside. What is he doing? He is speaking into a radio of some sort.

  Using the hem of my dress, I wipe at the glass trying to get a better view with no luck.

  Suddenly the door swings open with a loud thwack as it bounces off the exterior wall. Before I can try to hide my presence, Tristian has ahold of my arm and my back is pressing into the glass. The metal frame supporting the glass is digging into my back.

  His nose is touching the tip of mine. His breathing is heavy as his heaving chest bumps against me. His forehead connects with mine as I concentrate solely on the beating of his heart. It flutters in sync with my own. I know he feels a deeper connection with me. His feelings go further than a debt to be paid.

  “What are you doing out here?” He asks his voice raw and husky.

  “Just going for a walk. I didn’t mean to spy. Honest.”

  The sound of chopper blades hum in the distance. The air around us begins to swirl as his mouth hangs dangerously close to mine. If I press forward a mere centimeter I could kiss those lips I crave.

  “You shouldn’t be out here. Isn’t safe.”

  A helicopter circling above cuts him off from saying anything further.

  “Fuck!” he utters pinching the bridge of his nose as it descends to land. “Just stay out of the way. Come on. Don’t speak.” He pulls me inside and shoves me toward a small wooden stool among a garden of plants, mainly marijuana, but I see he grows roses as well. At least now, I know where they come from when they magically appear in my room.

  He has quite the setup. Heat lamps, sprinklers, and plenty of fertilizer.

  Tristian orders me to stay put as he goes back out to greet his guests. Drug dealers I am assuming.

  After the noise has died down outside, Tristian returns followed by a large man in a suit carrying three silver briefcases. He doesn’t notice my presence at first. He goes about his business with Tristan standing as my shield.

  The cases are setup on a nearby table and the clasps clicking open on each of the three echoes through the small room. “Three million,” the man states coolly.

  Tristian nods and the man waves his partner in. This man is much shorter but bulky in stature. Both men appear of Italian descent, dark hair, dark eyes, their skin kissed with a natural tan, similar to my own Hispanic complexion.

  He reminds me of my father in a way.

  My parents met in foster care. My grandma took them both in as her own, she could never have children. The only thing of their heritage that ever really stuck with them were a few terms of endearment that they taught my sisters and myself. I don’t know anything of their families.

  I watch the men cautiously. I don’t like the vibe I get from either of them. They scream danger and not in the sexy fashion it oozes from Tristian.

  The shorter man begins packing out small crates filled with bundles of what I assume to be pot.

  The larger of the two comes over to shake Tristian’s hand and say goodbye with a brief manly hug. He spies me over Tristian’s shoulder and smiles.

  “You didn’t introduce me to your friend. Such a rare beauty to hide away and keep all to yourself Tris, though I cannot blame you. This why you turned down my wife’s invitation to have dinner with us?

  “My pet,” Tristian brags.

  “How long you been hiding this one? We’ve been associates for two years now; I’ve never seen you with a woman on your arm.” He can probably read the confusion all over my face and see through Tristian’s lie.

  “Isa has been mine since we were children, bought and paid for. I don’t like to mix business with pleasure. You know this Goldoni,” he covers smoothly.

  His words bring a memory to surface. I am outside running in a circle as a boy in a wheelchair chases after me. I’m wearing a white dress. I try to see the boy’s face, but it’s fuzzy. I can only see his chair clearly. Why did Tristian’s words trigger a weird dreamlike memory I have no recollection of?

  Goldoni and Tristian conversing more brings me out of the haze. “You must come to dinner now. I insist. We will celebrate you acquiring such an exquisite beauty.”

  “I’ll call you; Isa is more trouble than she is worth, her father is ill and cutting into my use for her.”

  “My apologies,” Goldoni states kissing my knuckles. His mouth feels as slimy as his hair appears. “We will speak soon Tris. Nice to meet you Isabella. I look forward to the privilege to gaze upon a woman so lovely in the future. And Tristian, if you find another like her, my offer still stands on the girls, we could make a lot of money. Or if you tire of her, I can be persuaded to take her off your hands.” He sounds friendly but there is a hint of a warning in his tone. Alarms sound in my head but I smile and tell him I look forward to seeing him again, trying to ignore his comment about his offer on the girls and me.

  What girls?

  Tristian smiles menacingly and I can feel his mood growing darker by the second.

  “I’ll see you off. Isa has a call to make to her Papa.”

  Tristian and his associates disappear. The chopper comes to life and the ground beneath me shakes.

  When Tristian comes back for me I have to ask, “What girls? Do you traffic women Tristian?”

  “No Isa I don’t fucking sell women into the sex slave trade. I have dancers who flash some ass for a little cash. Goldoni has been pressuring me, wanting to use my club
to expand his business. I don’t even know why I am explaining any of this to you.”

  He closes the cases of money and hands one to me. “Help me carry this to the house.”

  I take the heavy case and follow him back through the woods. When we get inside I remember what he said about my getting to make a call.

  “Tristian?”

  “Yes, Isa?”

  “Can I call my Papi now?”

  “I did say you had to make a call didn’t I?” I smile and his face lights up at my happiness. Tristian’s smile is like nothing else in this world. So rare and captivating.

  Chapter 14

  ISABELLA

  Turning my charged cell phone over in my hand feels foreign after being without it for so long. After our worlds collided in the greenhouse, Tristian returned my cell to me, with the promise I would tell my father nothing of my new knowledge of his dealings. I don’t get what the big deal is, my father probably already knows. He has suspicions, I know. He warned me that Tristian is dangerous and not to become involved. But it’s not as though I could go back on my word, or deny Tristian anything. I couldn’t if I tried. I am putty in the man’s hands.

  He is watching me intently waiting for me to place my call home to assure my family of my wellbeing and his fair treatment of me.

  My fingers dial the number by heart. My sister Elsabeth answers on the second ring. “Why haven’t you called! Papa has been worried sick over you, he’s not eating. I had to have Felix hide his guns and take his car keys. He has been set on calling the police. You didn’t even give us a name for the family or an address... You have explaining to do,” she chastises.

  “Calm down Elsa. There isn’t good cell reception out this far and when the wind blows hard the power goes out on occasion.”

  Tristian eyes me with amusement, his lips curving upward into a brief smile, exposing his lonely dimple located on his left cheek.

  “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have made you all worry. Mrs. Cyrus is out of the country and I am really busy with her five kids.” I didn’t know what else to say and Cyrus was the first name to come to mind.

  “Gabriele is home he’s been asking for you. I wasn’t sure what to tell him,” she says pausing for me to give her instructions.

  Gabriele is Felix’s brother. He also happens to want me for his wife. At first, I thought he was merely kidding around when he mentioned us living on the other side of Elsabeth and Felix, but as time wore on, I could tell he was into me with the way he would look at me.

  “He is, um...I—tell Gabe I will call him soon and we can have lunch or something, but I’m not sure when I can get away.” I avoid Tristian’s stare, shielding my face with my hair.

  For some reason Gabriele has it in his head that I am his already. I have never given him reason to believe I want him too, but I suppose I never did anything to make him think otherwise. It isn’t as though I have dated other men to prove him wrong.

  At the mention of Gabe’s name Tristian is jerking my phone from my fingers. “Hello Elsabeth. Let this Gabe know that Isa is going to be busy for an extended period of time, he needs to stick his dick elsewhere.”

  My cheeks flame in anger and amusement. If only I could see her face when he spoke to her like that.

  I grab the phone back pleading with my eyes and holding a finger up for him to stop acting crazy. “Elsa I’m sorry Mrs. Cyrus has a brother who isn’t mentally stable. He has mental issues. Besides he is kidding, he’s had dental work and the pain medication has made him a bit out of it,” I lie glaring in his direction.

  He pinches my nipple hard through my thin dress and runs his fingers up my thigh. “Can I speak to Papi?”

  “He’s napping but I will have him call. And start answering your phone Isa,” she barks hanging up on her end.

  My breath hitches and I drop the phone unable to concentrate on anything as Tristian’s fingers rub over the crotch of my panties. He teases me with his fingers. His eyes are locked on mine enjoying my being off balance.

  “You lied about me. Your father doesn’t know you are here does he Isa? Does he know about our deal?” He bites my ear hard and I am turned on by his roughness.

  I moan at his advances as he continues to nip at me. “Kind of, I just left out the part where I am living with you...here.”

  He continues to rub and tease me with his torturous fingers.

  I am burning inside for him to touch me without my panties in the way. I want him to do the things no man has ever dared to do to me. I wiggle against his hand wanting to feel more of him.

  “Does this feel good Isa?” His thumb presses hard on my clit.

  Tension and pressure is budding in my core. My panties are soaked.

  I grab his hand with mine. When he doesn’t pull away or tell me to stop I continue. “Touch me Tristian,” I demand pulling my panties to the side and grazing his fingers over my pussy lips.

  “You don’t know what you are asking Isabella. I will have you, but when I do, it will be forever,” he warns and promises at the same time.

  I swallow hard with the weight of his words settling in my gut. He intends to keep me forever. I stiffen unsure of my feelings on the matter. Could I live like this with him forever?

  His fingers brush against me softly. “Tell me who Gabe is to you.”

  I hesitate feeling the return of my desire pooling between my thighs with his caress. A rough pinch to my clit shoots pleasure and pain though my heated core. “No one,” I choke out as the pressure builds again.

  “Don’t lie to me Isa!” He snaps jerking my panties down to my knees.

  Oh, God I want to feel his fingers inside me. I need him to touch me now before I die. His hand cups my intimate area without fully making contact. The anticipation of his next move is enough to drive me insane. Sweat trickles down the small of my back.

  “He wants to marry me,” I admit.

  His hand makes contact with my delicate flesh and I feel ready to explode. The need for him to pleasure me is burning me from the inside out. My pussy is so hot for his affection.

  Tristian jerks me forward and goes down to his knees. “Has he ever touched you Isa?” His finger traces along the curve of my lips to the crack of my butt and back again.

  “No,” I pant out, eager for more.

  “Has this Gabe ever tasted you?” His tongue flicks out stroking my clit in a swift lick.

  My knees shake from the sensation. I am unable to answer. My hands fall to his head wanting to hold him at the heart of my fire and force him to douse my flames. His beautifully, morbid tattooed skin under the palms of my hands is silky and smooth. His hands grab my hind end and squeeze harshly.

  “Answer me Isa, has any other man ever tasted what belongs to me?”

  I shake my head no, unable to speak as he watches me through his dark hooded eyes.

  “Good.” He plants a hard kiss on my clit and sucks the tender flesh between his teeth.

  One finger pushes through my slit finding my sweet spot and I unravel, grinding hard against his palm.

  My eyes snap shut as I ride his hand, two fingers torturing me simultaneously along with his mouth. Stars shoot behind my eyes and my knees continue to tremble as I hold onto his shoulders for support.

  “Trissss-stian,” his name comes out in an elongated hiss. I am so close to the edge.

  Suddenly he pulls away. “Not yet, Isabella. When you come for me it will be on my cock.” He removes my panties from around my knees.

  Is he going to take me now?

  “I’ll keep these.” He stuffs the cotton into his pocket leaving me breathless and unsatisfied. “Don’t even think of getting yourself off. I’ll know if you do,” he warns.

  Doesn’t he want me? “Did I do something wrong?” I question wondering how we went from one hundred to zero so quickly.

  He smiles that perfect smile. The lines of his skeletal tattoo lining seamlessly with his teeth. “This is your punishment Isa, for spying and interrupting my meet
ing earlier.” My smile falls. “It pains me too,” he teases gripping his crotch and biting his bottom lip. “Now get in the kitchen and get started on dinner. Instructions are on the fridge.” He smacks my bare bottom and snatches my phone from the floor. “Cracked your screen. I’ll return it tonight. Cyrus is good with this shit. And don’t put on another pair of panties. I have plans for dessert.”

  He departs the room whistling a familiar tune. I can’t place my finger on it but I have heard it before.

  Feeling shaky and breathless, I do what I am told in hopes he will give in and touch me again.

  I’m in the kitchen cooking Tristian’s favorite dinner—twice baked spaghetti when I am hit with another memory. Again, I am in the white dress and a pale hand reaches a blue rose to me, before it fades away.

  I shake my head and try to remember but it seems like another life that wasn’t mine. I just can’t remember. Every time I try my head begins to pound and I feel dizzy.

  Chapter 15

  TRISTIAN

  Isa is strutting around the table pantyless and on edge. I know she needs to reach her release. I want to give it to her. I want to tease, taste, and pleasure every inch of her. I want her to scream my name in pleasure and in pain from wanting me so damn badly. I want her crawling on her knees begging me please. And I will have it. I want to consume her every thought, her every breath, every desire she has ever craved...I want it all to be me. She is MINE. She has always been MINE.

  I watch her closely as she avoids getting close to Cyrus or any of my brothers as she serves them their food and drink. Once everyone has been served, I have Isabella pull up a chair next to mine. I want her by my side, seated at the head of my table, where she belongs.