Dirty Ugly Toy Read online

  I swallow and nod. “Sure, babe. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  His eyes darken and he flashes me a wicked grin—a grin that once upon a time I had fallen in love with. At that time, though, I never realized the evil that danced behind that smile.

  “Well, I want you to drop to your knees and suck my cock. Daddy’s had a long day.”

  I refrain from cringing and instead drop before him. Once I have his length in my mouth, I rub my belly.

  Only a few more months of playing nice, baby girl, and then we’re out of here.

  A long overdue and genuine smile tugs at my lips as I pleasure my bastard husband. Only a few more months . . .

  The purple room upstairs is a constant reminder of her and it nauseates me. I’m half tempted to ask Brax if I can repaint it. I glance back at my reflection and it makes me cry harder. The woman looking back at me is scared and vulnerable. Pills from the cabinet beckon to me and I’m reminded of a similar situation when Trevor was in here with me.

  Why is it that only the darkest and most evil men cross my path?

  I splash more water on my face when my stomach flops again. My brain is a mess today and I can hardly cope with it, hence the upset stomach. With shaking hands I rub at my eyes. I’m tired of this life. For a long time, I’ve played a game for someone else. It’s high time I start playing for me.

  Some things need to change right away. Using drugs as a crutch is one of them. With haste, I yank open the cabinet and retrieve the pills. I twist open the bottle and dump them into the toilet. As much as it scares me to handle life without them, it’s necessary. I toss the empty container in the trash and flush the toilet, watching with a smile as a part of my past is swept away. This time, when I look in the mirror, I can be proud of the woman staring back at me. I close my eyes and allow myself a moment to revel in the sensation.

  Warm hands encircle my waist and for a moment, I think it’s Cartier. But his smell envelops me and I shiver. My heart speeds up to the much quicker pace it’s used to whenever he’s around.

  Brax.

  “Has anyone ever told you how amazing you are? I’d been waiting to see what you’d do with those pills. You passed my test.” I can sense the pride in his voice.

  I reopen my eyes and am shocked to see the same, sad, exhausted look on his own face. For a moment, it makes me forget my problems and wonder about his.

  “You’re back.” My voice is hoarse and quiet.

  He buries his face into my hair and inhales. “I am. Jesus, I missed your smell.”

  His words cause my belly to flutter with butterflies instead of rumble with sickness. Sometimes, this complicated man is just what my soul craves. I shudder and squash that thought immediately.

  “How was London?”

  He groans and pulls away. “Terrible. How was it here?”

  “Terrible,” I mimic.

  Turning in his arms, I notice he’s wearing one of his signature suits but the arrogance that usually paints his pretty face is lacking. We both stare at each other and inspect what we’ve missed. And we both have. Despite my attempts to ignore thoughts about how Brax makes me feel alive and happy, I know I can’t. Because he does make me happy—even when he’s being difficult and confusing. He’s only been here a few minutes and I’m already drunk on his essence.

  “You look stressed,” I sigh as I reach up and run my fingers through his hair. His lids droop for a moment and it pleases me to see how much he enjoys having his hair touched. When I pull my fingers away and drag them down his recently shaven cheek, his eyes pop back open.

  “You look stressed too. Miss me, Bunny?”

  Hearing the dumb name on his lips warms me and a wave of dizziness washes over me. I nod and lift on my toes to kiss him. “Nobody spanks me while you’re gone,” I tease with a smile. “Not even Cartier when I beg him too.”

  He groans and steals my mouth with his, kissing me deeply. Possessively. All consumingly. I fall into the abyss that is him and whimper out a moan into his mouth. His erection presses into me and suddenly all of my worries disappear.

  I want him.

  All of him.

  Now.

  “I want you so bad, Jess, but I am so fucking tired from traveling. Let me grab a shower and meet me in the Theater Room,” he instructs with a peck against my forehead.

  The air is lighter. I’m no longer being suffocated by peaches. I’m captivated by the dark moon that orbits my world.

  He tugs away and leaves me alone. The air becomes colder in the absence of his presence. Suppressing a shiver, I exit the bathroom and make a face at the lingering peach scent which seems to have poisoned the air.

  On the way upstairs, I lose myself to my thoughts. Moments before, I was planning my escape and now, I just want to spend time with Brax. I want his warm, comforting presence holding me while I ignore my plan of action ahead of me. Even if it can only be for a short while.

  And if he switches the flip and gets in one of those moods, well, he can fuck away my worries then. Because I might always be a whore, but I’m his whore who loves the perverted things that only he does to me.

  I’m curled up in one of the comfy theater seats when I sense his presence. It’s as thick as the air. Always. Brax doesn’t do anything small or insignificant. He charges everything with all that is him and it’s electrifying.

  “I heard you were a good little toy.” His voice blankets me in rich, velvety warmth.

  “I was your bored little toy. It’s not the same here without you,” I tell him with honesty.

  Glancing over, my mouth becomes dry to see him leaned against the doorframe wearing nothing but a pair of navy fleece pajama pants hung low on his hips. My eyes travel over his gorgeous, bare, sculpted chest of a god all the way down to a particular set of V-shaped muscles which point straight into the goodness that I’m becoming extremely familiar with.

  He smirks but wisely doesn’t interrupt my blatant staring. I’m attracted to the man but I’ve never wanted to lick every inch of his flesh more than I do right now.

  “Those pants would look better on the floor, you know,” I flirt.

  His chuckle is boyish and loud. It causes a shiver of delight to quiver through me. My mood has skyrocketed while in his presence. Briefly, I worry about when the day comes where I won’t ever see him again. The thought makes my already woozy stomach revolt.

  Ignoring the future, I watch as he saunters into the room to the DVD player. He mashes a few buttons while I lust over his back and firm ass.

  When he finishes, he grabs a quilt from the closet and sits in the seat beside me while the music starts up. He fishes around in a pocket on the side for a remote and soon the room darkens.

  “Fancy,” I say with a laugh. “They don’t have stuff like this in the ghetto.”

  He grumbles from beside me. “You’re never going back to the ghetto.”

  I frown because if I don’t play my cards right, it’s exactly where I’ll end up. “Are we really going to watch a Disney princess movie? I’d rather just suck your cock.”

  “Jesus, Bunny. Why do you always have to say shit to mess with my head?” he complains. “For once just let me spoil you like I want.”

  He lifts the arm rest between us and tugs me over into his lap so he can cover us with the blanket.

  “You’re really not going to fuck me, Brax? I thought you were kidding about watching a movie,” I taunt, running my fingertips up his bare chest. “I’ve missed you.”

  His fingers catch my jaw in an almost brutal grasp and he turns my face to his. Dark, sinister eyes flicker from the movie previews on the big screen as he glares at me. “Did you forget what I like? All it took was a week to forget our special relationship?”

  He wets his lips in an angry way that has me wanting to rip his pants off and do dirty things to him.

  “I’m sorry, sir. Seems like you might have to give me a refresher course,” I say feigning innocence.

  A quick exhalation rushes from
him and I get a whiff of the coffee he’s most recently consumed. It makes me want to suck the caffeine right from his tongue. He draws me to him and kisses my lips in a soft, stark contrast to the way his fingers dig into my jaw and hips. “My God, woman, what is wrong with you? Most women would just want to watch the fucking movie.”

  “I’m not most women,” I sigh against his lips. “I crave to rile you up and provoke you. I like watching the vein in your forehead pulsate when you’re pissed. I like when you tie me up and spank me and treat me like you own me.”

  He will own me—but not for much longer.

  His hands make quick work of tugging off my sweatshirt and I whimper in pleasure. It, along with my bra, gets tossed to the floor behind us.

  “I do own you, Bunny. Every pretty inch of your body—inside and out.”

  I lift up on my knees and straddle him, his rock hard dick is a solid indication of his eagerness to play. His mouth finds my nipple and I moan in delight. “Oh, yes, I need this right now.”

  He groans and his hot breath tickles my breast. It exhilarates me to the point that I wonder if I could orgasm this way. His teeth sink into my tender flesh and I let loose a scream of pleasure. My head drops back the moment his thumb fingers me between my legs over my yoga pants. Having not seen him in so long, I know I’ll easily succumb to bliss simply from his external touches.

  Without warning, a shudder ripples through me and I cry out. With every press of his thumb on my clit, I grind against his thickened cock in an attempt to draw out as much pleasure as possible.

  “I can’t breathe,” I whisper and collapse against his chest, our sweaty skin rubbing against each other.

  He inhales and murmurs something so soft, I almost don’t hear over the opening credits of the movie. “I can’t breathe without you.”

  My heart that’s skipping a few beats doesn’t take the time to register what he means because a very familiar movie—one of my favorite movies—starts playing behind me. And it’s not anything Disney.

  “Brax! You didn’t!” I squeal as I scramble to turn around.

  Sweet Home Alabama with Reese Witherspoon is playing on the large screen and I want to cry. This movie all adorable and romantic, reminds me so much of my Georgian life before Jimmy, back when things were fun and easy. My legs are draped over his right leg and he cradles his arm around me, his fingertips brushing my bare back softly.

  “I thought we were going to fuck,” he teases with a chuckle.

  I absolutely love when he’s like this—like a real man should be around his woman. Swallowing down that thought, I chew on my lip before answering. Do I think about myself as his woman? I certainly feel like I belong to him more than I ever did with Jimmy. Brax makes me want to be his. And even though he demands it, he never bullies it out of me like my husband did. Sure, he’s unorthodox in his ways, but he does it in a way that turns me on and draws me closer to him. I’m not even sure he realizes he does it.

  “Should have stuck with the Disney movie. I can assure you, you’d have my pants off already,” I tease and press a kiss to his smiling cheek. “But, you dug your own grave and now you have to lie in it.”

  “I’ll get those pants off of you eventually tonight, Bunny.”

  I snuggle against him as he pulls the covers over us. This, with Brax, is something I could most certainly get used to. My heart aches and begs the question my mind doesn’t want to answer.

  What if?

  There are few moments in my life that have brought me absolute joy.

  Once, when I discovered a Hustler magazine at one of Mama’s john’s place. I happily sat in the bathroom with it and gave myself my first hand job. It was blissful but as soon as I finished, I hastily cleaned myself up and hid the magazine in the back of the cabinet underneath the sink. Before I let my conscience get the best of me, I’d allowed myself one moment to dream that I wasn’t in my shitty world but was instead in a place I had control of. A world I ruled.

  I was happy.

  When I turned sixteen, I woke up to an annoying jingling from my bedside and opened my eyes to a grinning Richard dangling a set of keys. That morning I’d walked outside to a black Z28 Camaro with glittery, gold racing stripes and gold pin striping. It was all mine. The best for my boy, he’d said.

  I was ecstatic.

  But neither of those instances compared to the bursting inside of my chest at hearing Bunny laugh, sing, and recite every goddamned word to that movie. Her giggles were infectious and during that movie, something happened. My nearly nonexistent heart thrummed to life—and it beat for another. It beat for her.

  I was filled with absolute joy.

  And now, as I thread my fingers with hers to guide her into my bedroom, I wonder if I’ll ever get moments like that again. Selfishly, I crave for more moments—not just of happiness—but of happiness with her.

  It’s bigger than any financial goal I’ve set out to achieve. Larger than any house I ever wanted to buy. More out of reach than any ridiculously priced sports car I ever wanted.

  With Jessica, I want to conquer and own her.

  But the part that scares me is how much I want her to own me too.

  “Have you ever thought about selling your company?” she asks in a soft tone, interrupting my thoughts, as she climbs onto my bed. Her dark hair has been spun into a messy do that somehow looks hot as hell on her. She peels off her clothes and stares off into the fire while she waits for me to join her.

  I drag my gaze over her perfect, naked body and push my pajama bottoms to my feet. “A time or two. Why do you ask?”

  She shrugs and lies back on the bed when I sidle up next to her. My cock screams to push inside of her but my mind is curious.

  “I don’t know. I mean, your hotel seems like it’s a lot of trouble for you. And while you enjoy the entertainment,” she says with a gesture to herself, “it doesn’t seem worth it.”

  Dragging a fingertip between her tits, I raise a questioning brow at her. “First of all, you’re more than shitty entertainment. You’re mine. And second, it makes me a lot of fucking money.”

  She laughs. “And you already have a shit ton of it. Isn’t it time for ol’ man Kennedy to retire? Play some golf? Fuck some toys? Trade in the suits for sweatpants?”

  I cringe at the thought of wearing sweatpants. Jeans, most likely. Sweatpants, never. “I’ve had a few offers for FTL. They’ve all been outrageous but I’m afraid to let go of it.”

  Her green eyes meet mine and she bores a hole straight through me. Normally, I push her away from me but tonight she seems hell-bent on exploring parts of me that I haven’t even fully explored before.

  “I think you should sell it. And soon. The market isn’t what it used to be. Sell while you can make a pretty penny and invest the proceeds.” Her concern for my company hides an ulterior motive behind her words. Why does she give a damn what I do with one of my most profitable companies? She’ll be gone soon anyway.

  The thought is a sucker punch to the gut and I nearly laugh aloud. She’s not going fucking anywhere.

  “Who’s the finance major here?” I question as I continue my teasing of her nipples.

  She huffs. “I’m not stupid, Brax. I see a bigger picture here and if your company ever went under the microscope in the public eye, I’m afraid your ‘law-abiding, tax paying’ company might not be as legal as you claim it to be. Then what?”

  My employees do everything to follow the letter of the law. But, Bunny was beat under the roof of my very own hotel, which makes me question if all the rules are being followed properly. Negotiations between a toy and Luxer are specific and agreed upon. However, when Luxers mix with toys that they don’t have agreements with, the lines become blurred. I hadn’t considered that aspect before but after what happened back in Vegas, I know I should reevaluate. And with the shit that went down with Trevor, I question what else is being done without my knowledge.

  “My company won’t be under the microscope. Stop worrying,” I tell
her with a grumble.

  She lets out a deep breath. “What if Jim, er, James gets mad at you for hitting him? Didn’t he say he was a politician? Someone like that could make your life hell. He could find a way to put you in prison.”

  Her nose turns pink and she appears to be fighting back tears. A small quiver of her bottom lip tells me that she’s close though. It pleases me that she seems to care so much.

  I scowl at her. “That asshole isn’t shit to me—all fucking bark and no bite.”

  She winces at my words so I soften them.

  I bring my hands up to cup her face. “Bunny, I’m not going to prison. I’m not ashamed of my company or afraid I’ll get hauled off to jail. However, I can understand your point about retiring. I am getting older and tired. But, I won’t let some asshole scare me into selling before I’m ready.”

  Defeated, she nods. Her fingers raise to my cheek and she strokes me with them. It’s gentle and it soothes my bitter soul.

  “Now,” I sigh, not wanting to tell her the next part. “I do want to keep from discussing it when my dad gets here.”

  Her eyes widen and they dance with questions. Neither of us have opened up much about our families and this feels huge to me. Our relationship is evolving from a normal master and his toy situation. She’s becoming my solace. My friend. My lover. My confidant. My escape.

  “I got a call on the way here. He had a heart attack. His doctor doesn’t want him living on his own. He’s getting old and she thinks he’d do better around family.” I swallow, hoping the wobble in my voice doesn’t give away my vulnerability.

  Here, locked in my warm sanctuary, I feel free of my past, present and future. Down here, with her, things are on pause. A pause with her equals an eternity of happiness.

  “I’m so excited to meet him,” she gushes with a genuine smile on her face that makes my chest puff a little in pride. “Do you think he’ll like me? I mean, does he know about your ‘toy’ fetish?”

  “Dad will love you—that much I can guarantee. He’s never met a stranger, I don’t think,” I tell her with a hint of adoration for him in my voice. “But, listen Jess, he doesn’t know a lot about my life. I go to his house for Christmas every year and we meet out in LA anytime I have a meeting there. He stays busy with his rotary club and orchid society, but he’s never been here. My dad is one of those people who sees the good in everyone—even street trash like me.”