In Bed With the Beast

by Tara Sivec

  “I had one disastrous date after another, and so much dry humping that I think I’m starting to chafe,” I remind her.

  Just thinking about all of those dates my friends forced me to go on makes me shudder.

  “EXPERIENCE!” Ariel shouts, throwing her hands up in the air with a flourish, sounding and looking just like Bill Nye the Science Guy when he bellows the word science.

  Cindy shakes her head at Ariel and moves closer to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and giving me a squeeze.

  “Sure, some of those excursions were a little . . . strange. But let’s not forget about your current living situation and the man who made that possible. As well as all the things he’s been doing to you lately.” Cindy winks and gives me a smile.

  Holy Moses, the things he’s done to me . . . As much as I hate to admit it, my friends are right. Maybe those dates didn’t teach me about how a man’s mind works or being sexy and learning how to use my body to turn someone on, but he definitely did. Even if he’s left me hanging by not having sex with me more times than I can count, along with him calling me sweet and innocent back out in the club. All of this quickly turns my nerves into anger and frustration. Ariel’s right. I don’t need notecards, and I don’t need to study, but old habits die hard and my nerves got the best of me when I was taping up creepy eye pictures and shoving notecards into my cleavage.

  Jerking out of Cindy’s hold, I start pacing back and forth in the middle of the room.

  “Did you know a hundred percent of women are blah, blah, fucking blah, who gives a shit?!” I yell.

  “Oh, Jesus. I think she’s broken. Cindy, I think we broke her,” Ariel mutters.

  I ignore her and continue to wear a hole in the floor.

  “I’m not an inexperienced little virgin who needs to be handled with kid gloves,” I continue ranting. “I almost had a threesome. Some mama’s boy tried to get his mother to help him get laid. I’ve learned about the beauty of multiple orgasms. And bloody hell that dodgy arsehole out in the audience can bugger off, and I shall not let him near my fanny again for a fortnight!”

  “What in the hell are you doing?!” Ariel inquires, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind when I suddenly start speaking British.

  “I don’t know! I’ve never been a hot nerd before!” I shout in frustration, pushing my black rimmed glasses back up in place. “I’m getting into character. I figured it would be sexier if I spoke in a British accent.”

  “You’re just stringing together a bunch of British shit no one will understand. Stop it. You don’t need to get into any kind of character. You’re a hot, sexy bitch who almost had a threesome, almost got bred by a mama’s boy, and has had multiple orgasms. You can do this. You are going to march your sexy ass out onto that stage and show that annoying man you aren’t sweet and innocent, and fuck what he says!”

  Ariel holds her palm up to me for a high five, and I smack it with exuberance.

  “See? You are a motivational speaker,” Cindy says, giving Ariel a pat on the back.

  “Just don’t fuck it up and fall flat on your face or you won’t get any tips. Especially the tip of his dick,” Ariel adds.

  “And then you have to go and ruin it,” Cindy mutters, turning away from Ariel to give me an encouraging smile. “You’re going to be fine. Just forget about the notecards and the studying and the mechanics of it all and think about the orgasms. Think about how sexy and powerful you felt. Think about that awesome lap dance you gave PJ earlier, when you were determined and pissed off. Channel that sexiness and power and lose yourself in the music. I need you, Belle. I can’t keep doing all of these parties by myself. You’re my only hope.”

  “Alright there, Obi Wan Stripping Kenobi, let’s get out of here and let her do her thing,” Ariel says, grabbing Cindy’s arm and pulling her towards the door, shouting over her shoulder before they disappear from sight. “Just think, maybe after you’re finished stripping, that hot piece of brooding man meat will come back here and finally screw you silly up against the wall, like PJ did to Cindy!”

  PJ did, in fact, get so turned on when she first stripped on this stage that they had sex for the first time in this room when she was done. It was all so hot and romantic the way she described it that it makes my heart flutter. Too bad that’s definitely not in the cards for me, since I can’t seem to get Vincent to take things any further between us. I’m finished wishing for a fairy tale like all the ones I’ve read about in my favorite books, and the one that happened to Cindy. At this point, I need to just accept the fact that it’s never going to happen for me and stop living between the pages.

  Sure, my life has been a complete mess the last few months, but it’s also been somewhat exciting. And real. That’s the best part. I’m finally experiencing real life instead of just reading about it. I’m a strong, independent, take-charge woman, and I need to remember that’s all that matters. And maybe if I can get through this dance and quickly start booking parties, the board will have no choice but to change their minds when I tell them I can start making my own donations to keep the library open.

  “We’ve got an extra special treat for you next. Get your dollar bills ready, folks. Straight from the castle library, looking for her very own Beast to tame her, is the hottest princess you’ll ever meet! Put your hands together for Belle!”

  As soon as I hear the muffled voice of the announcer out in the main part of the club, I grab the vintage, hardback copy of Beauty and the Beast that I brought with me to use as a prop and quickly make my way out of the dressing room and up the stairs to the stage.

  I pause behind the black velvet curtain, opening the book and holding it in one hand in front of my face, grabbing onto curtain with my free hand and taking a deep, calming breath as nervous excitement courses through me.

  Who cares about happily-ever-after? I’ve got happy-for-right-now, and that’s good enough for me.

  * * *

  “I cannot believe you didn’t tell me that stripper pole spins on its own!” I shout at Cindy as I stomp into the dressing room, still out of breath and covered in a thin sheen of sweat from dancing under the hot glare of stage lights.

  “It was a minor detail that I left out. And who cares?! You looked amazing out there! Did you hear all the screaming and see all the money that was tossed up on that stage?” Cindy asks as she and Ariel follow quickly behind me while I continue stomping angrily across the room to grab a towel from one of the dressing tables and blot my face.

  “Minor detail? MINOR DETAIL?!” I scream. “Stripper poles aren’t supposed to spin. The strippers on them are supposed to spin. All of my practicing revolved around me moving around the poll. Not me going so fast I thought my shoes were going to fly off, not knowing how to stop! I almost spun to death!”

  As soon as I grabbed onto the pole in the middle of the stage and took a running leap, my body immediately whipped around that pole a hell of a lot faster than I was expecting. I don’t even know how I managed to make it look sexy or keep a look of panic off my face.

  “Oh, quit your bitching,” Ariel mutters, flopping down in the chair next to me. “There were only a few seconds where I thought I might have to jump up on stage and rip your fingers off the pole. You recovered quite well, and no one knew you almost flew out into the audience.”

  “Seriously, Belle. You did a Swan Spin, a Matrix, and a fucking Arrow Spin! Even I haven’t been able to get that Arrow Spin down yet!” Cindy states, staring at me in awe and making me lose a little bit of the anger.

  “I watched a lot of YouTube videos. Don’t ever try and tell me again that studying doesn’t pay off,” I tell them.

  “I think Mrs. Potter almost had a heart attack, she was clapping and whistling so loudly,” Ariel laughs. “And good God, I thought your dad was going to knock over the table when you finished, he jumped up so fast, clapping and shouting for you.”

  When she sees the horrified look on my face she quickly reassures me.

  “Don’t wo
rry. The blindfold stayed firmly in place the entire time. And he only almost got beat up once when he was turned the wrong way in his chair and started blindly making it rain on some angry biker dude with a shaved head, wearing a leather vest, who was sitting behind him,” she adds.

  “It was fine!” Cindy quickly jumps in, giving Ariel a dirty look when the things Ariel says doesn’t make me feel any better. “Luanne turned him around and apologized to the man.”

  Tossing the towel on top of the dressing table, I grab Vincent’s shirt from the back of the chair where Ariel is sitting, sliding it up my arms and fastening a few of the buttons in the middle.

  “Did you happen to check out Beast during Belle’s performance?” Cindy asks Ariel as I grab my skirt from the floor and shimmy it up my legs.

  “Oh, you mean the giant tent in his pants, and how he looked like he was one more tit shake away from disappearing into the bathroom to jerk off?” Ariel responds.

  “You’re definitely getting laid tonight,” Cindy states with a wag of her eyebrows.

  I look back and forth between my two friends as I get my skirt up to my waist, wondering what the hell they’re talking about. I managed to catch Vincent’s eyes once during my dance and he looked bored. He was leaning against the back wall by the door with his arms crossed and absolutely no emotion on his face.

  “You’re both insane,” I mutter, when the dressing room door flies open, banging against the opposite wall.

  “You two. Out,” Vincent growls, pointing at Cindy and Ariel.

  He looks so imposing and angry as he stands there taking up the entire doorway, shooting a murderous look at both my friends, but maybe they were right. Maybe watching me dance really did light a fire under him and he’s finally going to give me what I want.

  Ariel scrambles out of the chair and grabs Cindy’s arm as they both hurry across the room, pausing in front of Vincent.

  “Be gentle. If you hurt her, I will slice those tree stumps you call arms into tiny little pieces and make you eat them,” Ariel threatens him.

  “What she said,” Cindy agrees with a nod.

  Vincent sighs in irritation, moving to the side to let them pass.

  When they’re gone and it’s just the two of us alone in the room, the anticipation about what’s going to happen next is so overwhelming that I want to scream. I reach behind me and grab on to the back of the chair that Ariel just vacated, holding my breath as Vincent continues standing by the door, staring at me.

  My chest is heaving, and I feel like I’m going to die if he doesn’t walk across this room and touch me right now. I look at him with every ounce of want and need that I feel for him, hoping he knows that I’ve never been more ready for what’s about to happen than I am right now. I want everything he has to give me, and I know he feels the same way.

  “Get your shit and let’s go,” he suddenly announces.

  “Uh . . . what?”

  “Get. Your. Shit. I’m tired. I want to go home.”

  With that, he turns and marches out of the room.

  Instead of feeling deflated or unwanted, I feel down right pissed off.

  Snatching my bag from the floor and quickly shoving into all of the makeup Ariel brought with her, I stomp out of the room after Vincent, fully prepared to give him a piece of my mind.

  Chapter 28: You’re a Cock Blocker

  I didn’t have a chance to give Vincent a piece of my mind as soon as we got into his truck. After rushing through the club after him and saying a quick good-bye to my dad, who was still blindfolded and leaned in and kissed Cindy’s ear instead of my cheek, I hurriedly told a confused Ariel that the plan didn’t work and Vincent just wanted to go home and go to bed. She called me on my cell phone as soon as I got out into the parking lot.

  I listened to her scream and curse about him the entire ride home. I had to turn down the volume on my phone as far as it would go and wedge myself into the corner so he wouldn’t hear what she was saying. I stared at his profile in the dark interior of the cab while she ranted, and with just the glow of the dashboard lights, I could see a muscle ticking in his jaw the whole drive home while I hmm’d and uh-huh’d everything she said. I could also see that his knuckles were white and the muscles in his forearms were clenching, which almost made me put Ariel on speakerphone so he could hear what she was saying about him. He deserved to hear all the creative names she called him for this attitude he was giving me.

  Ariel assumed he was mad because I danced without telling him. She assumed he wasn’t happy with me because I did something he thought I wasn’t ready for.

  The closer we got to the house, the more I thought she might be right. Even though he didn’t seem mad when I saw him before I went on stage.

  Which brings me right back to where I was a few weeks ago: Wondering if he just doesn’t want me like that, and he’s mad because I’m trying too hard to make something happen that isn’t there. To make him want me as much as I want him. To make him understand that he means a lot to me, and I don’t want him to hold back any longer.

  My anger is at war with my feelings of rejection and hurt and as we pull into the driveway and Ariel finally stops screaming, I honestly don’t know which one will win. As I end the call with Ariel, making her promise not to come over here and kick Vincent’s ass, I watch him get out of the truck without a word, stalk up the walk, and fling the door open, disappearing inside.

  He couldn’t even wait for me?! Oh, hell no!

  Deciding anger is winning for right now and I can save my tears for later when I’m alone in my bed, I climb out of the truck and march myself up the porch and through the door.

  Vincent is standing in front of the fireplace with his hands resting on the mantle and his back to me, and I slam the front door closed as hard as I can.

  “What the hell is your problem?!” I shout, watching his shoulders tense as he grips the mantle in front of him even harder.

  “Not now, Belle,” he mutters under his breath.

  “Don’t you not now Belle me! If you’re mad about me dancing tonight without giving you a head’s up, too fucking bad! In case you forgot, I’m the boss of me and I decided it was time to get my ass in gear and stop being afraid!”

  “That’s not the problem. Just drop it,” he growls angrily, still not turning around to face me.

  “Oh, so you admit there’s a problem! Well, isn’t that just great for you! Because you know what? I’ve got a problem too! I’m falling for a guy who says really great things to me about how sexy I am, and does things to me that makes my toes curl, but doesn’t want me enough to actually have sex with me! He just keeps saying I’m not ready and a bunch of other bullshit to string me along and make me look like an idiot who wants something she’ll never have!”

  By the time I’m finished shouting, Vincent has slowly turned around to face me, and I should probably be afraid about the fire blazing in his eyes as he stares at me from across the room, but I’m not. Fuck this shit! I’m done being afraid and not speaking up for myself.

  “Why did you even tell me you want to see where this thing between us could go if you weren’t going to follow through? You know what you are? You’re a cock blocker, Vincent Adams! A fucking cock blocker!”

  I’m so sexually frustrated and hurt and pissed that I just shouted the words “cock blocker.” I should stop talking.

  “Stop. Talking,” he growls, reading my mind and aggravating me even more.

  “Oh, don’t you dare tell me what to do! I can’t believe I actually thought something amazing was happening between us! I can’t believe I’ve been thinking about how this stopped being some stupid way for me to be sexy and flirty a long time ago and turned into me just wanting you, any way I could have you! You are such a stupid jerk!” I scream, fighting back tears.

  Before I can even blink them away, he’s across the room and standing right in front of me, his chest heaving and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

  “You think I don’t
want to have sex with you?” he mutters through clenched teeth.

  When I don’t answer, he moves again, his chest bumping into mine, forcing my back against the door. He smacks his hands down on the door on either side of me, caging me in, but I refuse to cower or let him try and scare me away. I lift my chin with fierce determination and stare him down.

  “I’ve been hard as a fucking rock since the goddamn day I met you!” he bellows. “Every time I touch you, every fucking time I watch you come apart, I want to slam myself inside of you and never leave!”

  “Well then why in the hell haven’t you?!” I yell back.

  “Because every time I even think about fucking you, the beast inside me starts raging to get out, and you don’t deserve that!” he argues angrily.

  “I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about,” I mutter in annoyance, shaking my head at him.

  I’m pretty sure he just said he wants me, but he’s still standing here not touching me or doing anything about it.

  With a few deep breaths, he seems to calm down right in front of my eyes. Dropping one of his hands from the door, he cups my cheek and drops his head to stare into my eyes.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers brokenly.

  Damn this man. Just like always, one minute I want to punch him in the face and the next, I want to wrap my arms around him and make everything better.

  “Well, as long as you know what the hell you’re doing, that shouldn’t be a problem!” I retort.

  I’m rewarded with the barest hint of a mouth twitch, and all my anger leaves me in a whoosh, nothing remaining in its place but tingling anticipation that travels from my head all the way down to my toes.

  “Oh, baby. You should realize by now that I know what I’m doing.”

  I’m not sure who moves first, and it doesn’t even matter. Within seconds, our mouths are crashing together and our hands are everywhere all at once. Vincent rips the white button down I’m wearing wide open and the buttons scatter all over the floor. I grip the hair on the back of his head when he grabs my ass and lifts me up against him, wrapping my legs around him as he turns and walks us through the living room, our mouths still fused together.