Brutally Beautiful (9 page)

Empty wine bottles and burgundy bottom stained glasses littered the trailer.  Fran had tried to be a gentleman and attempted to help me clean after Dylan’s birthday dinner last night, but we didn’t get too far.  From the moment Bree and Dylan slipped out of the door to
sleep
back at Dylan’s place, Fran’s hands were all over me. 

When his lips met mine, I felt like I was watching myself from a distance, trying to find some sort of feelings or something…some glimmer of
want
.  But all I could think of was the life I’d run away from.  How I thought I’d be able to delude myself into thinking that I could possibly date a man after what I’d been through was laughable to me.  My body tensed up, a small whimper escaped from my mouth and I simply pushed myself away from Fran’s pawing limbs. 
My past was going to haunt my every kiss from now on, wasn’t it?  Every time another man places his lips or hands on me, I’m going to cringe and wonder what it is he really wants to take from me, aren’t I?

I did my best to compose myself and offered a silly excuse about getting to know one another better and cleaning, I had to clean.  Fran, the gentlemen he was, understood and helped clean a bit, but I just called it a night, and when he gently asked me, I agreed to another date out of guilt. 

After he left, I had another miserable night of sleep, tossing and turning, nightmares pecking at my grey matter.  Nightmares about blood and fists, hospital ceilings, dark shadows on city streets and moonless desert nights listening to explosions like music in the air.  Nightmares about my brother.  Nightmares about Kade and the way his dangerous eyes watched me during dinner, and the way I
liked it
. 

At eight in the morning, right in the middle of gulping coffee straight from the
coffee pot
, my phone buzzed and I groaned out loud.  “I’m cleaning it up.  I don’t need help, go back and snuggle with your Bucket of Yum, and relax,” I laughed into the phone, not even bothering with any hellos.

Bree sighed on the other end and whispered, “The guilt is killing me.”

“This isn’t about the cleaning, huh?” I asked, knowing full well it had everything to do with
not cleaning
.

She whimpered into the phone.

“My brother loved you more than anything,
Jen
.  He’d want to see you move on and be happy.  Michael’s been gone over a year and you deserve a little bit of fun and happiness.  Please, just enjoy yourself.”  I laughed loudly, “I mean don’t enjoy
yourself
, enjoy Dylan.  Go.  Have fun.  And sex.  Have lots of hot, dirty, nasty sex.”

“I know you’re right, but…God, I have felt numb for so long.  My body just shut down when he died, and now with Dylan I feel alive again.”  She sobbed quietly into the phone and sniffled.  “
But
, I feel like I’m cheating on Michael,” she whispered.

“Honey, you’re not going to be able to have a future with anyone if you keep yourself in the past.  What you and Michael had was beautiful, but he’s gone and you need to let yourself live.  You never know what’s going to happen, just be happy and live for
you, live for today
.  I’m not asking you to forget him, just let some other people in, that’s all.”

“Michael and Dylan would have been friends.  Great friends,” she whispered.

“And, I bet he wouldn’t be able to pick a better guy for you to date,” I said.

“You always say just what I need to hear.  I’m glad we stayed close because I wouldn’t have been able to deal with losing Michael without you.  I would have been all fucking alone.”

“You’re like my sister.  No, you
are
my sister, look at what you did for me.  You ran away with me!  You wouldn’t let me do any of this alone,” I replied.

“I couldn’t, because you didn’t leave me.  You’re the only family I have,” she sniffed softly.

“I love you, sweets.  I really do, and you deserve to be happy.  Dylan makes you smile again.  He’s a nice guy.  Go and enjoy yourself for a little while.  I’m not telling you to marry the guy, just have fun.  No excuses; continue with your love fest please.”

“Shut up,” she laughed.  “I’ll be by later to get my bag for work. I forgot it last night.  Love you and thanks,
Sam…
for everything.”

Hanging up, I smiled at the state of chaos in the trailer.  “Prepare to be cleaned, O-C-fucking-D style,” I laughed out loud, swallowing back the last remnants of coffee from the bottom of the pot.

 So, dressed in only my sleepwear, which consisted of a tiny black tank top that ended above my navel and a tight pair of boy shorts, I armed myself with a pair of latex gloves, broke out the bleach, my iPod and speakers.

An hour later, the pungent smell of bleach and lemons filled the air and the place was literally
sparkling
.  All of the dishes were washed, everything that was ever touched by human hands was disinfected and I felt brand new.  I threw my gloves off and looked around.  The only thing left to clean was the floors,
one last time
, so I raised the volume of the music and mopped to the beat of
Raise Your Glass
by Pink.  Dancing around, I sang the words into the mop handle and tried to bust out some moves like I watched the girls do on stage at the bar.  In front of the stove, I did one of those sexy stripper stomps in my white beat up chucks on my tippy toes, pretending they were stilettos.  When I got to the couch, I flipped my hair around, squatted down into one of those spread eagle moves and slid myself back up, laughing, shaking my backside and spinning around the mop.

“Um…Lainey,” Bree’s voice stammered, pulling my eyes up to hers at the door.  She’d caught me doing a hell of a lot worse, so I felt no shame. Hell, we usually giggled and practiced these moves together.  However, when I saw who was standing next to her, my stomach dropped and I yelped out a squeal of mortification.

Kade fucking Grayson
.

Kade fucking Grayson got to watch me dance after all.  Well, universe, you seem to be desperately trying to rain all sorts of shit down my neck, what next?

Bree’s voice interrupted my arguments in the case of Universe vs. My Shitty Life. “I just came back to pick up my uniform and I came upon Kade here, looking at something very interesting to him through one of our windows,” she laughed.   “I have to get to the bar, or should I stay here?” she asked, eyeing me  and grabbing her workbag off the hanger on the door.

Wait.  What?  He was watching me freaking dance while I cleaned?

My mouth wanted to drop open. I was beyond humiliated, but there was no way I would let him know it bothered me.  “I’m fine, Bree,” I answered, indifferently.

“
Ooookay
then, enjoy whatever the hell you got going on here…” she said awkwardly, and walked out of the trailer.

Slowly, I moved myself behind the small kitchen counter that separated the kitchen and other rooms, trying to block his view from me.  “What are you doing here, Mr. Grayson?”  A slow burn spread across my cheeks and heated my scalp as I stood, waiting for his explanation. 
He watched me dance?

He moved around the counter closer to me. His intense stare lowered from my flushed cheeks down to my breasts, across my stomach, and lingered with heat on my bare legs before it traveled slowly back over my entire body again to my eyes.  His look was dark. 
Sexy
.  Oh. My. God.  It felt as if he licked me in one long slow stroke, up and down my entire body.  Thanks universe, just crank the sexual tension up a few notches,
whydon’tcha?

I stood there trembling, uncertain as to what I should do.  Uncertain as to how I felt about his eyes on me.  Okay.  Fine.  I. Liked. It. 
There, I admitted it.

“Uh…I…I forgot my jacket again.  Last night.  Here,” he choked out. 

Was I making that man stutter?  Because of what I was wearing?
  Was barely wearing.  Small beads of sweat broke out across my forehead.

I seriously wanted to cross my arms over my chest.  Even though I
was
wearing clothes, the small amount of them combined with his lusty stare made me feel completely naked.  And those dark dangerous eyes of his made me want to move closer to him. 
Shit
.  “You know what I think? I think you forget a lot of shit when I'm around.”

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely, eyes still fixed on mine. 

I lost all rational thought.  Lost the use of my limbs and I was melting fast. 

The mop slipped from my hands and clinked against the counter, averting my eyes from his. I tried pretending that those two pathetically simple words didn’t just cause my panties to leak a drip down my legs.  “Beautiful,” I repeated flatly.  That was the first time in my life a man called me that and it had to come from an asshole.

He moved toward me with intense purpose and power, dipping his head, forcing me…challenging me to keep eye contact with him. 

Well, too bad
.  I turned my head away from his, looking past him, beyond him, as if he didn’t matter.  Heat crept over my skin as he slowly inched closer to me and I turned to face him again, my eyes locked on his.  There was something unnerving in his gaze, something dark, cold and alive there, begging to be warmed.  His steel eyes fluttered slowly down to my lips and my pulse instantly started hammering through my veins.  The closer he moved, the faster it pounded.  Both his hands reached up and gently cupped my face, and he leaned forward laying his forehead tenderly against mine.  “Yes.  Beautiful.  Stunning.  Bewitching.  Ravishing. 
Fucking angelic
.”  He smelled like the most expensive brandy money could buy, it was dizzying.   I had no personal space left. He took it all, absorbed every last breath of it, almost knocking me to my knees.

One strong hand cupped the back of my head, his long fingers doing something to the nape of my neck that sent chills down my spine.  His expression was dark, intent, lusty, making heat scorch up my neck.  His heather grey eyes bore down on mine, making my heart pound violently in hopes of escaping from my rib cage.

My mouth opened to speak, but our breath just mingled and he growled a low rumbly groan as he fiercely crushed his lips against mine, drowning out my words, capturing my breath.  A relentless flood of warmth swelled in my whole body.  His lips were soft and unyielding, moving against me in slow passionate circles. The heat of his mouth made me gasp for air, and the taste of the dark brandy that flavored his mouth was delicious.  Hard and rough, his mouth raked over mine. I swayed back against the sink, hands leaning back.  I needed something to hold on to – something that would keep me here on earth, because his lips on mine, his hands, fingertips cupping my face, my head, made me
feel…everything. 
My heart pounded erratically in my chest. The heat of his fingertips singed into my skin, and my insides thawed, softened, liquefied into a wet hot mess.  Every spot where his skin touched mine, I felt a powerful staggering heat. The squeeze of his fingers over my flesh sent a rush of need through my belly. 
Where was this coming from?  Why the hell was I standing here letting him TOUCH ME?  WHY the HELL WAS I KISSING HIM BACK?

I pushed him away, covering my mouth, breathing heavy, unable to catch my breath. 
I had no words
.  I could tell everything by the way this man kissed me.  I could tell how rough, hard, and erotically passionate this man was and how
I was losing the ability to breathe because of his kiss
.  He stumbled back a step, breathing just as hard as I was, eyes blazing into mine, savage, wild and hungry.  This stolen kiss, this theft of lips, this
claim
on my mouth was the most erotic sexual kiss in my life. My knees were so weak; I leaned back heavily against the counter again to stop my body from melting into thick sweet syrup at his feet.

“I didn’t think… I didn’t think you’d taste…
so good
,” he whispered, dragging his hands roughly through his hair and back down over his face.

He had to ruin the moment, right?
A dark laugh bubbled out of my throat, “What?  You thought waitress flavored kisses were too sour for you?”  Shoving myself off the counter, I walked away to the opposite side of the trailer, putting as much distance as I could between the both of us, and wanting to scream at him. I paced back and forth trying to regain my composure.
Hell, just trying to stop panting like a dog in heat would be helpful
.  A thick dense knot settled in the pit of my stomach. 
I just let him kiss me and I loved it
.  I had no control over it, not a damn ounce. 
Now he’s going to degrade and belittle me and be all Kade-like again
. 
Why? Why did he have to kiss me like that, yet be the biggest asshole I’d ever met?

For a moment, he looked as dazed as I felt, then his arrogant lip quirked up in a cocky smile.  Look at that…the man had a playful dimple that introduced itself, mocking me on one of his cheeks.  I wanted to smack the offensive boyish charmer right off his mean face.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I stopped my pacing.  “Don’t. Don’t say anything else.  You’d be perfect if you just kept your arrogant mouth closed.  Your intimidation skills are lacking and I’m not the kind of woman who would actually believe that you are superior to me just because you’re a man. You think you’re better than me and you’re not Kade.”  Anger at his stupid pompous smirk made me want to burst his narcissistic bubble and tell him that I was a hell of a lot more than a waitress in a strip club, but I clenched my mouth closed. 
This wasn’t like me to let someone get under my skin
.

He raised his eyebrows and stalked towards me with purpose.  “That’s what you think?”

“What I think is that you’re a disgusting, demeaning, lonely man who looks good in an expensive suit.”

By the time I ended my sentence, he was seething.  He lowered his face to mine and looked straight into my eyes, viciously.  “Let’s get everything out, yeah?  I’m the first person to acknowledge that I am 100% fucked up in my head. That’s why I stay away from everyone.  When I first laid eyes on you, God forgive me for my stupidity, I thought you were a fucking
angel
.  But, I’ve met people like
you
, you’re just like everybody else I’ve ever known,” he sneered, disturbingly.  “I think people should strive to be more than what
you
are.  Look at what I saw when I first saw you; a waitress, poor as shit, working in a strip club where men
pay her for the way she makes them feel
, living in a fucking trailer.  Then you came up to me, swaying those perfect hips, and you asked me what I wanted to drink.  I made my assumption on what you gave me, love.  And I offered you a job.”