“Ella Jane, do you think we’re playing a game? That I am playing a game, helping you?”
She laughs, and his eyes flash to hers. A smile is on her lips, but it’s so cold. “Jacobs, you’re always playing a game. Don’t be pissy because I decided I didn’t like your rules.”
He reacts just as she planned, his eyes darkening before he lunges for her. Pinned to the bed beneath him, she can't quite stop the shudder of pleasure that works through her. His lips cover hers, teeth nipping at her and she tangles her fingers in his dark hair,
For just a moment, she forgets how furious she is and how he's made them wait. With his body covering hers, and his tongue twisting away all logic--she jerks on his hair, pulling him back just enough that she can meet his furious gaze.
"What the hell did you expect us to do, Jacobs? Waiting has never been my style."
HIs eyes clear and he gives her a dark stare. She holds her breath, waiting, wondering—playing with Jacobs is like playing with fire. It's not a question of if you'll get burned, but when and how badly.
He pushes of the bed with liquid grace and she lets out the breath she's holding, slowly. Straightens. Not today.
"You asked me to leave my business behind and help you cover a felony. You do understand that it takes a little time, even for me, to arrange shit."
She shrugs. "No one forced your hand. You could have said no, and I would never have brought it up again."
Jacobs laughs as he unbuttons his grey suit pants and steps out of them. He's almost naked and she doesn't hide her lazy appreciation.
"You knew I wouldn’t walk away from that."
A satisfied smile tugs her lips and Jacobs smirks, almost pleased. "Very well played, sweetheart."
She allows herself just a moment to savor the tiny victory before she shifts to sit up on the bed, and asks, "What's next?"
"Next, I go to a meeting with some of my people. And you wait. I should have everything in place by tonight.”
Fury licks through her, and she makes a low scoff. “You want me to wait. Again? Fuck you, Jacobs.”
She stands and stalks past him and his hand closes over her arm, too tight and painful. “My way. That was what you and the pretty little bitch downstairs agreed to. I make it go away and you do what you’re fucking told. And right now, that means stay here until I’m ready for you.”
“And if we don’t?” she asks, her voice shaking with anger.
Jacobs releases her, and steps away. She stands still, fascinated as he tugs on a pair of faded jeans. Pulls a dark blue t-shirt over his head. He has a gun in his hand when he finally turns to her, and she watches it warily before he slides it into a holster and tucks it at his hip.
“You can clean this mess up on your own. I’m sure the Charleston police will have plenty of questions.”
Her lips tighten, but she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t protest any more as he kisses her cheek, the parody of a loving couple, gives her one last smirk, and stalks out of the bedroom.
She’s still standing there when the door slams and he’s gone.
Chapter 9
The day crawls past. Maybe because they know things will change after, or because there is a sense of anticipation that wasn’t there before. And, also, a sour taste of fear that lingers in Jacobs’ wake. EJ changes out of her bikini and curls up in her room with a bag of weed and a bottle of red wine, and ignores Charlie when the other girl wanders in to find her.
Not that her silence does anything to dissuade Charlie. She merely disappears to find another bottle of wine and then crawls into bed next to EJ.
For a long time, they smoke and drink in silence, and she almost thinks EJ is sleeping, except for the subtle tension that keeps her stiff and too alert on her side of the bed. And the occasional spark of the lighter.
“What happens when this is over?” EJ asks and Charlie blinks.
Of the many things she’s considered, the aftermath isn’t one of them. “We go home,” she says slowly.
EJ twists to stare at her, long black hair spreading across the pillow like midnight. “And then what? Can you find a pretty little boy that daddy will approve of, go to the parties and club, live your whole boring life knowing that you took Tre’s?”
She flinches and EJ smirks. Coldly amused. Ruthless when she asks, “Do you think Jacobs will let us just leave? Now, with everything he has on us?”
“Don’t be a bitch, EJ,” Charlie says and takes another sip of wine. Ella laughs, and grins up at her friend. The wine and weed is doing its work—she’s relaxed the way she was before Jacobs arrived, loose and happy like she was at the pool this morning.
“Why do you work with him, if you hate him so much?” Charlie asks, and Ella shrugs.
“I told you. It’s complicated.”
There’s a story there. History that she wants to pick at, but she doesn’t. Instead she take another sip of wine before abandoning it and the remains of her joint, and scoots down the bed. Ella snuggles against her back, soft puffs of breath tickling Charlie’s neck as she falls asleep.
*
She wakes to voices. Jacobs and a male voice she can’t quite place. She carefully slips out of the tangle of EJ’s limbs, and creeps to the door of her room.
Jacobs is standing in the hallway with a man she doesn’t know. Blonde hair dusts along the collar of his t-shirt. Broad shoulders and an ass that snags her attention despite her unease.
“Charlie, come here.”
She freezes, and the guy looks back at her. Bright, curious blue eyes that are a little bit jaded. His gaze skims her and she wishes she had thought to change before she eavesdropped. Especially since she hadn’t learned anything and she’s being called out in a pair of tiny shorts and a thin tank top without a bra.
“This is Josh, Charlie.” Jacobs says, and she glances at him, sidelong. Then offers Josh a slightly cool smile.
“He’s helping us tonight. Where is EJ?”
Fear slithers down her spine at the thought of having someone else involved, but she shoves it down and shrugs. “Sleeping.”
“Wake her. We’re leaving in an hour.”
She arches an eyebrow, but nods.
She ducks back into the bedroom, ignoring the way Josh is watching her, and crawls into the bed next to EJ. She’s awake, staring at the ceiling.
“You heard,” Charlie says. EJ nods silently, and for a few minutes, all either of them do is sit in silence. Listening to the men moving through the house.
“Hey, EJ?” she whispers.
“Hmm?”
“I’m sorry. For dragging you into this.”
EJ rolls to sit up and leans against Charlie, resting her head on the other girl’s shoulder. “Don’t be. Now get up. Jacobs gets bitchy when he’s kept waiting.”
*
The water slips along the boat in mesmerizing waves. It looks, from where she sits, like white-capped oil. There is a part of her, a small part, that wants nothing more than to sit here, leaning against Charlie and the side of the boat, and drift away until they find a shore where no one knows them.
It's a ridiculous thought. She knows that, and she dismisses the idea before it's fully formed.
The craft is a dark speedboat, and it skips silently across the water under the easy hands of Jacobs’ business partner. He's been mostly quiet, treating the girls with careful distance, but the wary caution is slipping the farther out they go.
She still doesn't know what Jacobs has planned, but she isn't stupid. They're getting rid of a body. A giggle works its way up her throat and she reaches over to Charlie, snagging the little flask of vodka she's been nursing.
They've been on the boat for almost an hour, moving fast enough that the wind rips away her voice before anyone can hear her. Jacobs is sitting across from them, staring into nothing. He's wearing a suit, without a jacket, and looks fucking edible.
Except that he's dangerous as hell and she should be staying far away. It's hard to remember that sometimes. He ma
kes her want to bend her rules--boys are for using and losing. The only person to get hurt should be the other party.
Jacobs always had been good at slipping past her rules.
"How much farther?" she yells and Jacobs flicks a look at her. Glances around. It’s pitch black. The moon hides behind clouds, or maybe the moon is still new and won't rise tonight.
There is nothing but water and silence and the most dangerous man she's ever met. And a dead body. It occurs to her that this was a stupid fucking decision.
Jacobs holds up a hand and Josh pulls back on the throttle, slowing the boat until it idles in near silence, pulled along by the waves. For a long moment, no one says anything.
"Now what?" Charlie murmurs.
Jacobs smiles, and stands. Even on a boat in the middle of the fucking swampy bayou, he moves with a grace that makes her want to claw his eyes out or fuck him. Or perhaps fuck him, and then claw his eyes out. A tiny smirk turns her lips, and then it slips, vanishing as she looks at the coolers he stops near.
"Now we get rid of that pesky fiancé, sweetheart."
Charlie pales, visible even in the darkness. EJ jerks out of her seat, and takes a stumbling step forward. "What the hell, Jacobs?" she snaps.
"Sit down, Ella. This isn't for you to do."
His gaze stays on Charlie and he holds out a hand. "Come on, Charlie."
EJ watches, fascinated, and a little sick to her stomach as Charlie takes a deep breath and walks to the end of the boat. She's wearing a mint green sundress that flutters around her thighs. With big curls that hang around her shoulders and kitten heels, she should be at an afternoon tea or a brunch at the Burningtree. Anywhere but this boat, where a drug lord and his business partner watch while she opens the three coolers.
EJ hisses a curse when the stench hits her and Charlie recoils. At the front of the boat, Josh shifts.
Jacobs waits, eternally patient, his eyes almost dead as he watches her. Charlie looks ready to bolt, and EJ tenses for it, ready to catch her and step in.
Charlie kicks off her heels and reaches for the first cooler. It's heavy, and full. Too full for her to lift. Making a face, she reaches in and grabs a chopped up arm.
EJ gags when the meat hits the water, and she looks away. Straight into the curious blue eyes of Jacobs’ partner. "What is this?" he asks, and she shrugs. There's a rhythm to the noise now. The rustle of ice in the cooler, the soft grunt of Charlie throwing, and the splash of the—she gags again, and Josh moves, handing her a bottle of beer.
She hates beer, but she drinks it down greedily, praying like hell it will settle her stomach as the noise continues.
"Who was he?" Josh asks, his gaze slipping past her to where Charlie is.
EJ shudders, and finishes the beer. Drops it into the cooler at Josh's side, and gags at the sound of it hitting the ice. "No one," she mutters.
His face is in shadows, and she can't see the expression, but she can feel the doubtful look he's giving her, even as he chooses not to push. There's a lull in the noise behind her, and then Jacobs says, "All of it, Charlie. Empty it all."
EJ hears her friend huff out a laugh, her voice strained when she says, "Shut up, Jacobs."
Then the next cooler opens, and the rhythmic throwing begins again, and EJ nods at the beer. "Another."
*
She’s shivering, and covered in blood, and Jacobs is watching her. Distantly, she can hear EJ and Josh, over the roar of the wind and the water. Three empty coolers are sitting by her feet and her arms ache, in that bone deep way she always feels after a particularly strenuous tennis match. He moves and Charlie flinches, almost afraid as he slips along the bench to sit next to her.
Too close. Her eyes dart to him and then to EJ, but she doesn’t say anything. Only curls tighter into herself, into the blood coating her hands and the stench of it on her dress.
She wants, very badly, to get drunk, and to throw up.
“You surprised me,” he says and she shivers. Looks at him from the corner of her eye. “From everything I knew of you, Charlotte, I expected a spoiled mouse, who would run as soon as things got messy.”
She laughs, and straightens. Hearing that helps, somehow.
She’s always loved being stronger than people expect. Being the one thing they underestimate.
“Why?” she asks.
“Because that is all Ella has ever known,” he says, simply.
She stares at him for a long minute, a puzzle piece clicking into place. Whoever Jacobs is to Ella, he has been a part of her life for a long time. Longer than Charlie wants to consider. He’s dangerous and tied so closely to her best friend.
And he’s looking at her now, with something in those dead eyes.
Something she’s seen in a thousand boys.
Hunger.
A smile, coy and girlish, turns her lips, and she sits back, primly. Ignoring him completely as they slip across the black water.
Jacobs laughs, a small dry noise that tells her he knows—of course he knows. He’s Anthony Jacobs, and he plays this game so much better than she could ever hope to.
Josh is leaning into EJ, one hand low and curved around her waist. She’s drunk, and it pisses Charlie off.
She just tossed three coolers full of chopped up Tre into the fucking swano, and EJ is the one drunk and doing stupid shit.
Because flirting with Josh in front of Jacobs—that’s the very definition of stupid shit.
EJ giggles and Charlie twists to look at Jacobs. “Don’t put me in a box simply because it’s what she’s used to,” she says quietly. There’s a soft whimper from the front of the boat, and a perverse part of her is thrilled at the shadow of anger that flares in Jacobs’ gaze. Then Charlie is kissing him and she can’t see his jealousy or feel her own.
Just his lips, so incomprehensibly soft against hers. How can a man as cold and hard as Jacobs is, be this soft? She swallows her startled gasp, and he drags a hand through her hair, into her messy ponytail, and pulls her closer, his tongue licking into her mouth. He’s everywhere, his hands on her hips a delicious pressure. He catches her lip with his bottom teeth and sucks it softly, his hand sliding up her thigh. She catches it with her own, and pulls back.
“No.” Charlie whispers
A laugh spills from him. “No?” Jacobs echoes, amused.
The boat is slowing and EJ is pulling away from Josh. A pang of guilt runs through her, and she shifts. Stands.
“No,” she repeats.
*
They move across the lawn silently. EJ is aware of the tension vibrating through Charlie, making her bloody hands shake just a little. Jacobs and Josh are still by the boat.
For a heartbeat, she wants to ask about that kiss, but she doesn’t. “Shower?”
“God, yes,” Charlie says fervently, and she swallows a giggle. How different is today compared to the night she found Charlie standing over Tre’s bloody body. Then, she had been a terrified mess. As they climb the stairs to Charlie’s room, EJ realizes just how much has changed—Charlie isn’t terrified right now. Her cheeks are flush and she’s a mess, but she’s got a gleam in her eyes that EJ recognizes, and she’s almost smiling.
“You like this,” she says softly.
Charlie looks at her, eyes wide. “Like what?”
“All of this,” EJ shoots back. “Being here. Jacobs, for fucks sake.”
Charlie laughs, and stalks into her bathroom, unzipping her dress and stepping out of it. EJ stops in the doorway. “What am I supposed to dislike, EJ? I hate the fact that we’re in this situation. But being seen? As more than a fucking socialite? Yeah. I love that.”
She unsnaps her bra and steps out of her panties and EJ looks away. The sound of running water almost obscures Charlie’s voice when she asks, “Can you honestly tell me that you don’t?”
EJ mutters something under her breath and stalks away, and Charlie sighs. She’s pissed, and Charlie isn’t sure if it’s because of the kiss or because Charlie isn’t falling apart.
She’s just stepped into the shower when Jacobs appears in the doorway, and her heart jerks, shoving up into her throat so that for a moment, just a single moment, she can’t breathe.
She’s naked, and Tre’s blood is still running off of her, and she knows that saying no this time won’t work.
A part of her, the part she keeps buried deep and dark, doesn’t want it to work. She stays very still as he steps into the room, and locks the door behind him.
Strips with slow, methodical efficiency. He’s all long lean lines, and she can’t quite help the shudder that works over her when he’s naked.
Naked, and hard, and holy fuck, she wants him.
“Still saying no, Charlotte?” he murmurs when he’s standing in the shower, the spray of the water misting over him. She shakes her head, a tiny motion.
It’s like a dam breaking, and he reaches for her, pulling her to him by the hair, his lips savage and intoxicating as he devours her. She grips his hips and leans into him, his cock pressing against her, and wet heat floods her pussy. His hands come up and she moans as he cups her breasts, his thumb plucking at her nipple.
Without thinking, she reaches for him, and he grunts when she closes her hands around him, stroking his cock.
“Fuck, Charlie,” he hisses, his head falling and she smiles. Because this—this is where she’s always excelled. She sinks to her knees and takes him in her mouth, and Jacobs groans, a deep noise that makes her pussy clench as she bobs on him, sucking him off. She slips a hand between her legs and whimpers around his dick as she fingers herself and Jacobs thrusts into her mouth.
When her orgasm hits, it hits like a fucking hammer, and she moans, shuddering as her pussy clenches around her fingers, and his cocks swells in her lips. She jerks away from him and Jacobs snarls, yanking her to her feet and spinning her.
Charlie screams when he shoves into her, the long hot length of his cock impossibly tight inside her. She shoves off the wall, pushing back against him, and Jacobs leans into her. “No,” he snarls, and grabs her elbows, pulling back until she can’t brace herself, until she is on her tiptoes, her face pressed to the wall of the shower, and his cock is fucking into her, over and over, with the efficient skill he does everything.
Fatal Beauty Page 4