BEAU2Y (Beauty Part 2): Blaire's World

by Kirsty Dallas

  “I’m going to need some music.”

  I had my own iPod – my first purchase with my own money – loaded with so many songs I’d never have a hope in hell of listening to them all. It was sitting in the car parked just outside the warehouse. Hart instead used his cell phone to find something that might be suitable. After not too long, The Pierces “Secret” began to play.

  “Oh, good choice,” I exclaimed, giving Hart a thumbs up before returning my undivided attention back to Grigory.

  Humming to the sweet yet haunting melody, I pointed the nail gun and fired, this time hitting the man in the arm pit. Squealing with delight, I did a little pirouette and fired off another shot. The nail pierced the flesh of his stomach, followed by another and another. Grigory wailed, the melodic gypsy style music continued to play, and I danced while shooting nails into random parts of his body. The only problem with impaling nails into Grigory’s flesh was the lack of blood. It was sorely disappointing. Dropping the nail gun to the floor, I strolled across the plastic that had been placed under his body and made my way back to the bench that was littered with tools of torture. Finding a box cutter, I picked it up, lengthened the blade, and made my way back to my target. Holding it up before him, I whispered with a smile, “Hart told me no knives, which is really disappointing, because I do love knives. This isn’t exactly a knife, this is improvising. ”

  I began cutting, the flesh giving way easier than I thought it might with the thin, flexible blade. With the same careful precision I’d watched Hart use, I sliced into Grigory’s body, starting with the webbing between his toes, then the tendons behind his ankles and knees, followed by a jab to the flank. Finally, I reached the man’s arms. He had begun to go into shock, his cries for mercy all but faded away, his lids heavy as he faded in and out of consciousness.

  “You touched Ruby,” I spat, leaning as close to his body as I could without touching him. “She is just a little girl.” My gaze rose to his wrists. What a perfect finale. At his ear I whispered, “You know what they say Grigory, across the road for attention, down the road for results.”

  Placing the sharp tip of the blade against his wrist, I sliced deeply through flesh and tendons, making a straight line from palm to forearm. Then I did the same on the other side. Grigory groaned loudly, and I stood back to take in the blood which dripped down his arms and body, giving him the appearance of a crimson stained coat.

  Turning, I dropped the box cutter to the plastic covered floor, right beside the nail gun. Lust scorched Hart’s dark eyes as he took me in. Glancing down, I tried to see what he saw. I was splattered with blood, my hair was a wild mess having come partly free of the bun it had been secured in, my clothing a little skewed. Straightening myself up as best I could, I stepped into Hart’s body, pushed up on my toes and kissed his soft lips. My eyes fluttered closed at the tender moment. Surrounded by blood and death I fed our lust for this ever-evolving thing between us. There were no labels for what we were, we were beyond them, our lives entwined in such a way that there was no me and him, only us.

  “My beautiful little monster,” Hart reverently murmured as our lips parted.

  From behind us Viktor spat out something in Russian. I had no idea what he said, but Hart tensed imperceptibly.

  “Careful, friend.” The word friend wasn’t said with affection. “Disrespecting Beauty is disrespecting me, that is your last warning.”

  More Russian spilled from Viktor’s lips as he turned and left the room. Hart watched his associate leave, an odd look on his face that I couldn’t quite decipher spiked my anxiety.

  “Can I kiss her too, jefe?” Raul asked from beside us, breaking the tension with his usual humor and sublime grin. Jefe was Spanish for boss. I don’t know how I knew that, but the more I was around Raul, the more of his language I seemed to understand. It wasn’t as if I was learning it as I went along either, I just somehow knew it and the more I heard it, the more familiar it became.

  “Unless you want me to effectively neuter you, no. Although after five children, I think Sylvie would thank me.”

  Raul’s hands dropped to his groin, and he gave Hart a pissed off look.

  “Señor Cordell, that is just cruel.”

  “I’ve rarely been known as anything but,” Hart countered.

  “Where do you think home is?” I wondered, watching Grigory’s soul slowly extinguish.

  “We’ll figure it out, it’s just another piece to the puzzle, my love.” Hart turned to Raul. “You and Viktor can clean this, we are going to wash up, then we’re going to dinner.”

  2

  HART

  Many years ago, someone told me that the unexpected is a sweeter gift than the expected. At the time I didn’t think much of it. As a man who could rarely be surprised, such a sweetness was one I never encountered. Until Beauty. She was a mystery that played with my heart, and while my need for her was bordering obsessive and my desire for her constant, I hated that weakness she created. I’d never needed nor wanted for anything. Beauty was my addiction and as the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, my desire for her didn’t so much as dim. Instead, it raged hotter and burned brighter. I’d become a junkie, and Beauty was my fix.

  Seeing her torture Grigory and pay him his dues had been like watching an artist create a masterpiece. Watching her slice through his wrists had been a flawless touch, his ending worth the painfully hard dick I’d endured from the moment she shot a nail through his flesh. Beauty was unpredictable, a trait that Viktor found hard to tolerate, yet one of the many things that I adored in her. Such a volatile and yet strangely innocent nature was rare. Her beauty unparalleled, her monster a match for my own . . . I wouldn’t ever let her go, I couldn’t. She was mine.

  Once we were done washing up as best we could in the filthy warehouse kitchen, I escorted Beauty out into the night air and to the car waiting on the asphalt alongside the lapping sea. Opening the passenger door of the metallic grey V8 F-Type Jaguar coupe, Beauty slid into the leather seat, and I closed the door behind her. Climbing into the driver’s seat, I started the engine, appreciating the soft purr of the V8 motor before putting it into gear and pressing on the accelerator. I was a man of patience, happy to move about the world with quiet, watchful precision, but when it came to my cars, I liked them fast. Luckily for me, Beauty appeared to have the same fondness. Flying through the country roads the world outside passed us by in nothing but a meaningless blur, the lights becoming more frequent as we drew closer to the city. Soft classical music played and one of Beauty’s hands hung in the air before her, fingers moving in time to the poignant notes. Her other hand carefully smoothed over the cover of a red leather book that rested in her lap. It was a collection of Hart Crane poetry, a gift she had refused to part with since I gave it to her a few weeks ago. Even though it sat in the dark shadows of her lap, her eyes remained glued to it with reverence.

  Raul hadn’t been able to find much information on her past. An American girl named Lucy, abducted roughly three years ago. It was like trying to find a needle at the bottom of the ocean, an impossible task. Most of Beauty’s memories centered on her time with Algis, her abuse still sitting at the forefront of her mind. To Beauty, Lucy was another being entirely, so there were no memories she could give us to help determine where she was from.

  “You did well tonight.”

  Big doll like eyes tore away from gazing upon her book, her full flips turning into a frown, a tiny crease forming between her eyes. It wasn’t the reaction I expected.

  “I lost my temper.”

  She had, but Viktor was playing with fire and he’d provoked her attack. If she’d lodged a nail in his skull, he would have deserved it. His intolerance for my relationship with Beauty had become an issue of contention between us, and my patience had little leeway when it came to her.

  “You did, but you regained control quite quickly and finished the job.”

  “Only because I had you there to help me.”

  From t
he disappointed look on her face, I knew she was having trouble seeing past her slight transgression. Controlling a temper was a battle I knew intimately. It was one she would eventually conquer with time and discipline.

  “You will gain control over your emotions, my love. I’ve fought with my temper my whole life, and even now there are times I struggle. Our monsters’ thirst for vengeance is great, and they are protective of us. You see Viktor as a threat, your monster came forward to remove the threat, and you shot him in the head with a nail gun.”

  “I would have if you hadn’t got in the way,” she muttered, dismally.

  “You did well, I’m proud of you.”

  Beauty’s cheeks filled with color, her eyes widened and her perfect, full lips swung up in a smile. My praise filled her up with joy, something I’d noticed the very first time I’d expressed how pleased I was with her progress. She was an intelligent girl who learned quickly and absorbed information like a dry sponge. The training I’d been putting her through was rather brutal, but I did it all to make her stronger, I needed to know she could protect herself. My line of work was full of danger and although I’d always worry about her safety, knowing she could fight, shoot and use a knife was comforting. She was faster now, her fitness having come on in leaps and bounds. It was amazing what good food and freedom can do for one’s body and soul. Every day we sparred and even though I knew she didn’t really want to, she worked hard to please me, so I made sure to let her know she did, immensely.

  “What about Ruby? What do you think Grigory means by someone came to take her home?”

  Grigory’s garbled words were hardly telling evidence of what had happened to the teenage girl, but I read people well, particularly as they stared down death, and Grigory had been telling the truth. Men dressed in combat clothing came to take her home, American men. What home? Her new master’s home? Twelve years of hunting the scum of the earth told me I was missing something.

  “Raul was under the impression her family didn’t have the money to fund a private search and rescue, but perhaps a benefactor has come forth to help. Her family is from Connecticut,” I thought out loud, trying to piece together the puzzle. Reaching for my phone that was sitting in the docking bay, I pressed Raul’s number.

  “Quieres disculparte por amenazar mi pene, no?” was Raul’s way of answering. You want to apologize for threatening my cock, don’t you?

  Beauty burst out laughing and the sound was like magic. It emphasized her youth and made me feel like a fucking deviant for wanting her like I did.

  “Ahhh, mi señora, that is a sound I could never grow tired of.” Raul’s seductive tone pissed me off. The fact Raul liked Beauty had made her transition into my life much easier, but there was such a thing as too much like, and his constant flirting was prodding my patience and tangling with something I’d never had to deal with before. Jealousy.

  “Have a little respect, Raul, that is my woman you are speaking to.” My voice would leave no room for misinterpretation. Raul was precariously close to crossing a line.

  “Me jefe de disculpas, no disrespect intended. How can I be of service? Did you forget something?”

  “They came to take her home. Do you think it’s possible her family were involved?”

  Raul was quiet for a moment.

  “Unlikely. I can’t imagine they would have the money to hire an investigator, and there are only a handful with the skills and contacts to find her outside of America. Their services don’t come cheap.”

  “Hmmm,” I quietly hummed, my mind running with different scenarios in the quiet of the vehicle.

  “Perhaps I should check, though.”

  “Perhaps . . . thank you, Raul.”

  Even though the fucker had ignited my anger, I still considered him amongst my closest friends, and one of the few men I could spare manners for. Disconnecting the phone, I found my gaze crossing to Beauty yet again. Why I had this incessant need to watch her, I did not know. It felt like breathing . . . natural.

  “So, do I get my prize?”

  “Prize?” I feigned confusion. “I don’t recall a discussion about a prize.”

  Beauty’s smile fell. She truly believed I’d forgotten. Silly girl, I remembered every conversation we’d ever had. Her sadness was like a dagger to my heart though, I couldn’t stand it and refused to let it blossom between us.

  “I think I recall something about, dancing?”

  At that, her downtrodden frown disappeared, replaced by a radiant smile.

  “You’re taking me to The Vortex.”

  It was my turn to become sour. The Vortex was a nightclub dedicated to the western travelers. With neon lights, and remixed pop music, I was getting a headache just thinking about it.

  “I have somewhere better in mind. Papa’s Place, you’ll like it.”

  “Papa’s Place? It sounds like a retirement home. Do they even have music?”

  Chuckling at her description of the bar owned by an eighty-five-year-old Russian mobster, I nodded.

  “They have music, and it will be more to your liking. It’s —” I tried to think of a way to explain the bar I had visited several times over the years—“Darker.”

  “Dark,” she murmured. “It sounds, boring.”

  “I guarantee it will not be boring, and it won’t give me an aneurism like The Vortex. We will both be comfortable, deal?”

  After a short silence, she sighed.

  “Deal.”

  Her hand suddenly appeared beside me, held out as if to shake.

  “I am not shaking your hand, I think it’s safe to say we are beyond such pleasantries.”

  “We’re making a deal, this seals the deal.” She wiggled her fingers with impatience.

  “Like a pinky promise?”

  She nodded.

  “What about sealing it with a kiss?” I suggested.

  No sooner had the words left my mouth and Beauty was free of her seat belt, climbing over the center console, and into my lap.

  “Bugger me,” I groaned, my foot pumping the brake to gently slow us and pulling off the road before we had an accident. “A little warning next time, hmmm?”

  Her soft, full lips pressed to mine, her tongue slipping expertly into my mouth, tangling with my own. The yielding flesh of her breasts pressed against my chest, the heat from her core positioned directly above my quickly hardening cock. Rubbing herself against me I ground into her, my hands cupping her ass and holding her to me.

  “You taste good,” she whispered.

  “Bloody hell.”

  Needing more of her than a kiss through too many layers of fabric, I fought my seat belt, shut the car down, and dragged her out into the open air.

  3

  BEAUTY

  I’d done it again, I’d sent Hart wild, all caution and care thrown to the wind. Rough hands pulled me from the car and suddenly I was on him, my legs wrapped around his waist as he carried me over the gravel. Clutching his broad shoulders, I was slowly lowered to my back which pressed to the warm, slick surface of the car’s hood and deft fingers unbuttoned my pants, pulling the zipper down.

  “Spin around,” Hart growled.

  Not sure what he meant I tentatively went to roll onto my stomach but was stopped by a big hand around my elbow.

  “Not like that, like this.”

  Hart tugged at my arm and eventually put me in the position he was after. I was still on my back, but now my head was at the edge of the hood, my feet resting on the sloped windscreen, and my jeans down around my knees. Releasing himself from the confines of his own slacks, Hart angled his cock to my lips.

  “Suck me.”

  His gruff command didn’t anger me. In fact, it had the opposite effect, it sent my heart into an erratic beat. The thick girth of his cock slipped between my lips, and Hart groaned loudly as he slid as far back as he dared while I sucked, hard.

  “Fucking perfect,” Hart purred as I took him deeply.

  Breathing steadily through my nose, he began
to thrust in and out of my mouth, his passionate gaze telling me he enjoyed this immensely. A rhythm was quickly found, then without warning Hart leaned over me, his head delving between my thighs as his lips latched on to my clit.

  “Ohmygod,” I somehow managed to garble around his cock.

  His tongue laved at my entrance, his teeth nibbling, lips sucking. Devouring me while I devoured him, on the hood of his fancy car on the side of a road. I didn’t even care that someone might come along, I just wanted an orgasm. Hart’s hips continued to move rapidly as he enjoyed the deep penetration of my throat and growled like an animal when I swallowed, the tightening around his shaft hitting the right spot. All too soon he was coming in my mouth with a feral growl, and once he’d slipped free of my lips, I passed myself over into his attentive care, absorbing every sweet moment of his torturous attention to my clit. Hart expertly built me up to a height that left me gasping for air, and when I came, it was with a long, loud moan.

  “Holy sweet baby Jesus,” I breathed, when he finally lifted from my body and began to straighten his clothing. His lips and chin glistening with my release.

  “So, we have a deal, I presume?” He asked as I shuffled my hips back into my jeans.

  “Uh-huh.”

  With a chivalrous hand he helped me from the hood and opened my door, shutting it behind me. Climbing back in the driver’s seat he used a tissue to wipe his face clean. I couldn’t stop the giggle that slipped free and when Hart grinned, I laughed harder. He looked so boyishly handsome and yet devilishly sinful. That had been the most carefree moment I’d shared with him so far, and I’d fucking loved it. This man was breaking me free from the mental bindings Algis had tried to chain me with. I wanted Hart, all of him, inside me and deep. Soon, one day soon, I was going to beg for him to fuck me, just like he’d said I would.