He turns, and she’s aware of what she’s wearing.
Of how isolated they are. And how Jacobs is dangerous—his men are dangerous.
A shiver threatens and she shoves it down furiously.
“Enough,” she mutters. “No more of this weak bitch shit.”
She takes a deep breath and shifts, a smile curling her lips as the guard smokes and watches her.
And then she stalks away from the window.
And tells herself there is no weakness in crawling into bed next to a still-sleeping EJ.
Chapter 6
“How long does he expect us to wait?”
It’s been three days since they arrived in New Orleans and Ella can feel the anxious nerves coming off Charlie. She sips the lemonade the housekeeper provided with their lunch, and watches her friend over the rim of her glass. As anxious as Charlie is, it doesn’t match how annoyed EJ is.
It’s just like Jacobs to agree to help, hurry them out of the city, and then make them wait.
“Bastard does things on his schedule,” she say evenly, shrugging.
Charlie grins, a slow thing EJ has seen her use on every boy she’s ever seduced. Every boy she’s never fucked. It’s the slow smirk of a girl used to seeing the world bend to her whim.
It’s as familiar as breathing, and pulls a smile from EJ.
“Since when do we wait for a man to tell us when and where to be,” Charlie murmurs. EJ’s eyebrows hitch, and Charlie uncoils from the chair she lounges in. Arches her back in a languid stretch. Her gaze glitters with trouble when she comes off her toes and grins at EJ. And says the two words that have always guaranteed trouble of the very best kind.
“I’m bored.”
*
They are being watched. It’s something that registers in the forefront of her mind as they walk through the Quarter. It straightens her spine and lights a warm heat in her belly—attention, of any sort, has always been the best kind of aphrodisiac. She smoothes the blue silk top over her belly, and glances at EJ.
It had been surprisingly easy to talk EJ into leaving Jacobs’ mansion. She’s dressed casually—a pair of black shorts with scarlet piping in geometric designs that she paired with a sheer top of the same color. It’s sleeveless with a Peter Pan collar and flirty bow.
Not that anything about her, with her straight black hair hanging in a perfect fall around her face, her lips a slash of scarlet, said flirt.
Next to EJ, Charlie felt almost approachable. She wore a blue silk top and a black maxi skirt with a slit up the side almost to her hip and that tantalizing wash of leg every time she took a step had eyes up and down the street crawling over her as she walked.
They were being watched, and both of them reveled in it.
“Where we headed?” Charlie asks as they sweep past another jazz bar. She throws EJ a quick searching look.
“Jacobs brought me down here a few months ago—before we started working together,” she adds, before Charlie can give her a furious stare.
There’s a beat of silence, and then, “What exactly is your relationship with him, EJ?”
EJ’s lips tighten, and she takes another two steps before she says, evenly. “Complicated.”
Charlie makes a low scoff in her throat, but EJ ignores it.
“Come on,” she says, suddenly, and strides into the street. Charlie follows, a little annoyed that she’s trailing the other woman like a lost puppy—when the fuck did that happen?—and catches her before EJ steps into a small bar.
It's off Bourbon Street, a small quiet little restaurant with a long, polished bar. A tattooed young man with sharp eyes and a quick smile is standing behind the bar, and he slows to stare at the girls as they pause, examining it. Charlie peers around curiously, waiting for EJ to make a move.
When she doesn't, Charlie makes a huff and scoots past her friend to sidle up to the bar. The bartender isn't even trying for subtle as he checks her out, his gaze snagging on her long legs for a moment before he grins into her eyes. "What can I get for you, ladies?"
"Whiskey sour,” Charlie says easily, and glances over her shoulder at EJ. "And a vodka tonic for her."
He slides into motion, making the drinks with quick, easy movements, completely at home behind the bar. EJ finally comes to sit next to her, and Charlie nudges her friend with the toe of her gladiator sandal. "Why here?"
"We came here," EJ says, distant.
The words catch the bartender's attention. "You've been here?" He grins, a friendly flash of teeth behind a closely trimmed beard. "Welcome back. Where you ladies from?"
"Charleston," Charlie says, and EJ's hand lands on her leg, fingers digging into her thigh viciously. She swallows her yelp of pain, and keeps her expression smooth, turning to glance at EJ.
Whatever the other girl sees in Charlie's eyes, her hand drops away, and her expression wilts. She takes the vodka tonic with a hand that shakes, just a little, and sips it almost desperately.
"Far from home. Y'all here for a bachelorette party?"
Charlie laughs, before she can stop herself, and then looks away. "What makes you say that?" EJ asks.
Confusion ripples across his face, and he points at Charlie's hand, wrapped around her glass, at the ring still on her finger. "She's engaged."
She hadn't realized she was still wearing it. And now, in a city she shouldn't be in, a dead body waiting to be disposed of, his ring feels like a shackle instead of a promise.
But hasn't that been true for a long time?
The bartender is still staring at them, waiting for some response. "We're actually looking for a friend," EJ says smoothly, propping her elbows on the bar and leaning forward, into his space. A tiny smirk plays on her lips. "Maybe you can help us."
Caution flickers in his eyes, quickly doused by the smile he gives them. "I can try. Who you lookin' for, darlin?"
"Anthony Jacobs," she purrs.
His gaze darts away, to the side for just a moment, and Charlie follows it. It’s still early for the place to be busy--there is one other person in the bar, a blond with hair flopping in his eyes, nursing a beer as he stares at his phone. Ignoring them completely.
Too completely. A tiny frown forms and she almost says something.
“Haven’t seen Jacobs in a while. He doesn’t get in much since he moved to Atlanta.”
That drags her attention back, and she stares at the bartender. He isn’t pretending that he doesn’t know Jacobs. But he isn’t being helpful either.
EJ murmurs something and he wanders to the other end of the bar, leaving the girls with their drinks. “Do you think it’s true?”
“No. But doesn’t really matter, does it? Jacobs will help us—there’s too much in it for him to not. In the meantime—“
“We can do whatever we want,” Charlie says, softly.
EJ makes a soft noise of agreement, and she sips her drink. “So what do you want to do, Charlie?”
She let’s her gaze flick back to the guy in the corner, and catches him watching them. His lips are tight and when she meets his gaze, he relaxes into a boyish grin, surprisingly young. He winks at her and she hides her smile. Turns back to EJ.
“Something stupid.”
*
She finds him in the third bar. By now, Charlie is well and truly drunk, and it’s almost a relief to see this side of her friend. To see her laughing and relaxed. She’s been worried about her since that night.
“What are you drinking?”
The voice is low and heavy with Cajun accent, and it pulls her from her musings back to the bar.
He’s classically handsome, with a self-deprecating smile and black hair that hangs just a little too long. He looks nothing like any of the boys she fucks at home, and nothing like Jacobs.
“Vodka tonic,” she murmurs and he signals the bartender.
“You here with someone?” He asks while they wait for their drinks, and she wonders if Charlie would mind terribly if she vanished for a while.
Stup
id. Isn’t that what she wanted, even before Charlie said it? She wants to forget that Jacobs is controlling everything, and why they’re here and that everything will change, when this is over.
And this man, with his hungry eyes and sharp smile—definitely stupid.
“I’m alone,” she says. The bartender puts the drink down, and she reaches for it. Holds his gaze as she sips the icy drink. When she lowers her glass, she leans forward, pulling him to her lips.
He’s gentle—too gentle. His lips ghost over hers experimentally, his tongue flirting with hers and she swallows her disappointment. She pulls back and gives him a flat stare. “No.” She shakes her head. Finishes the remains of her drink and slides off the barstool.
He catches her by the hand as she starts away, and her gaze darts back to him, no longer amused. Or interested. “No,” she grinds out, jerking free.
He’s angry, but he’s a fucking puppy, and he doesn’t follow her as she slips through the club.
Charlie is on the dance floor, and EJ smirks as she makes her way to the other girl. She looks fucking beautiful, and real in a way that she hadn’t been in Charleston. Her hair is dark with sweat and sticking to her shoulders, her eyes closed as she writhes to the music.
EJ slips the ecstasy from her pocket, and swallows it as she come up behind her friend, slipping a hand around her waist and matching the slow, seductive twist of her hips. Charlie leans her head back against her, long blond hair falling over EJ’s shoulder.
Something stupid.
Without considering it further, EJ twists her head, just enough to brush against Charlie’s lips.
She reacts like a live wire, her entire body tensing against EJ before her hand comes up, twisting in EJ’s hair and dragging her closer. She catches EJ’s lower lip, nipping just enough to earn a gasp from EJ. They pull apart and Charlie stares at her with wide, startled eyes. “What was that?” she asks, too low for anyone to hear over the music. EJ smirks and shrugs, and dances away, black hair flying.
“Something stupid,” she yells, throwing Charlie an irresistible grin.
Chapter 7
She wakes slowly, to the feel of fingertips pressing against her. For a heartbeat, caught in the haze of sleep and dreams, desire spools through her, and everything fades. Lips brush against her throat as a soft finger brushes against the silk of her panties, sliding along the wet heat there and she sighs. Lips close over her nipple, and she moans.
A low laugh has her body jerking and she fights down a scream as he rips aside her panties, thrusting two fingers deep into her while he bites down against her breast. She shudders as he circles her clit, maddening pressure that has her back arching against the bed.
Spots of light dance behind her closed eyelids, and Charlie grips his hair, twisting just a little as she drags him up to her lips, nipping at his lips as he kisses her.
“You woke me up,” she murmurs against his lips and he grins. Bright brown eyes. A wide, laughing smile that can turn cruel in an instant. The body of a god, and the stamina of a fucking high school senior. He slides deep, his cock dragging along her sensitive pussy, and she moans, arching into the thrust.
“Sorry, babe.” He grunts, pinching her nipple and earning a gasp of pleasure. “Needed that pretty cunt again.”
He shifts, lifting one leg to his shoulder and pressing a kiss against her calf before he thrust deep, deep enough that she bites her fist to silence the scream in her throat, and the intense pleasure in her body. His face contorts, and she goes still, watching in fascination as he shudders against her. His expression crunches, something close to pain.
“Christ, Charlie,” he groans and she twists her hips. His eyes fly wide as she uses her weight to switch their position. Smiles down at him triumphantly.
Teasingly, she rocks against his cock. Until his gaze is cloudy with desire, his hips thrusting to meet ever slow slide of her pussy around him. His hands are on her tits, squeezing as he fucks her, dancing along the edge of orgasm.
Then she slides off him, and laughs against his lips as he curses. “You woke me up,” she whispers.
“Don’t be a fucking tease,” he grits out and her eyes go wide, mock offended.
“What can that dirty mouth do to make it up to me,” she muses, and his eyes go wide.
She kisses him, reaching between their bodies to grasp his thick shaft. Lets him fuck into her once. Twice. The she crawls up his body, ignoring his furious curses.
Kneeling over him, she smirks down. “Show me,” she orders.
*
She wanders down to the pool a few hours later, after waking from her nap. EJ is lounging by the pool, and Charlie can feel her gaze, crawling over her as she approaches with a mimosa.
“Late night, Charlie?”
She shrugs, sips the drink and stares at the pool. She feels lazy and anxious—Daddy used to call it itchy, when she felt cooped up, her skin too tight despite the pleasant drunk feeling from the sex earlier, and the weed she smoked when she woke up, her thighs still sore from Geoff’s morning scruff.
“This is the third night in a row for Geoff,” EJ says, reaching for a Bloody Mary sweating on the table next to a book she discarded when Charlie opened the patio door.
Charlie shrugs. “He’s a good fuck.”
EJ’s eyebrows raise and she scoffs, “He’s an asshole, and you know it.”
Charlie’s grin turns sharp and just a little bitter. “Maybe I have a type.”
EJ inhales sharply and Charlie gives a tiny shrug. Shifts enough to snag a strawberry from the plate Ziva provided. She ignores the probing stare from her friend as she nibbles at the fruit and watches the pool. “What do you want to do today?” she asks. Already, she wants out of the oversized, too empty house.
It’s too many questioning stares from the quietly judgmental housekeeper, too many empty hours to fill with worry and thought—and it’s too damn close to EJ.
It’s been almost a week since they arrived in New Orleans, and there is still no word from Jacob. There is only so many afternoons to be filled high and getting drunk in the Quarter.
“Nothing,” EJ says, stretching back in her chair. She’s dressed down in a pair of tiny shorts and a thin tank top. Faintly, Charlie can see the outline of her nipples, and she looks away.
“Ok,” she agrees, quietly, standing.
EJ watches pensively as Charlie walks away. She’s been borderline self-destructive since they arrived. Stumbled home drunk with a new toy every night, until she found the current boy.
They both have been impatient for the arrival of Jacob. It doesn’t matter how much they drink or who they fuck, with that hanging over them. Everything is suspended until he arrives or the cops do.
She lets out a huff and sits up.
He will arrive—she has full faith that Jacobs will do just as he promised. When he is finished there will be no way to implicate the girls.
But what then? That’s the real tease. When the body is gone and the dust has settled—what will Jacobs demand for his help? Fear tears through her, and she rubs her arms, swinging to stand up. Enough. She stalks into the house, shouting for Charlie.
She’s in the library, headphones on as she listens to some music too loud, her head back and eyes closed.
Charlie snags one earbud, tugs it free. “Change of plans,” she says shortly. Charlie blinks up at her, lips glossy and red and for a heartbeat, they’re kissing in the club, sharp teeth digging—
“We’re going out,” EJ says turning.
And stills. Charlie sits up behind her and she hears, distantly, the soft curse that slips from her friend.
“No, we aren’t,” Jacobs says, his eyes cold and furious as he lounges against the doorway.
Chapter 8
Ella stands too still, almost like a wild animal who has caught the gaze of a predator and is trying to avoid its attention.
Why the fuck does Jacobs always reduce her to this? Why can he when no one else has ever been able to get under her sk
in quite like this?
“Ladies.” He drawls, “I don’t think you’ve been doing what you were told.”
Charlie shifts, and EJ’s hand, on her shoulder, tightens. She speaks before Charlie can. “Were we told something? I was under the impression you didn’t care what the hell we did—isn’t that why you left us here for over a week?”
He stares at her for a moment, and then his gaze slips past her, landing on Charlotte. And it makes EJ shake, how easily dismissed she is.
“You made quite a fuss, disappearing like you did, young lady.”
“I usually make a fuss, whatever I’m doing,” she says, her voice even. EJ smirks, and wipes the expression from her face before Jacobs can catch it there. She might find the amusement in Charlie growing some fangs when it comes to Jacobs, but he wouldn’t.
He’s a bit of a ruthless bastard.
“EJ, I would like a word,” he says abruptly, turning and leaving. Trusting that she will fall in line.
Charlie’s hand catches hers, squeezing and EJ glances down at her friend. There is fear there, in her big eyes, fear that she would hate to show. For a heartbeat, EJ wants to exploit it—play on that fear until it makes her shake and her eyes go glassy. Instead, she shakes the thought, squeezes her hand, and says only, “Get dressed and stay in your room.”
Then she follows Jacobs out of the study. He’s climbing the stairs, and he looks at her as he comes around the slight curve. She shivers at the look in his eyes, the fury and hunger.
He’s stripping off his tie when she reaches the open doors and he flicks a glance at her. Then refocuses on the she shirt he’s unbuttoning.
“You were asked to wait. What happened?”
She smiles, and shrugs, stalking into the room and sliding past him. She drops onto the bed and leans back on her hands. “I got bored. Really, you had to know that I would.”
Fatal Beauty Page 3