Page 64 of Beautiful Things Obey
“You dance for me, or have you forgotten?” I tell her, my hands finding her hips and bringing her even closer as she looks up to me.
“This is not fun for me.” Oh, but how this has suddenly turned more fun for me.
“It is for me, watching you squirm. I quite enjoy it.” And I wonder what amount of pressure will break her to uncover those truths. “What else can we do next that puts you out of your comfort zone?”
“I would say die, but that is my comfort zone.” I love her dry humor, dark and delicious. And so I decide at this moment that my focus is on uncovering her truths and figuring out who lives beneath the mask of Leonore Graves.
“But who would you examine alive then?” Her emerald eyes shoot up to mine.
“I’m sure I can find someone…” She leaves the words hanging.
“I’m contemplating having a contract made, in case I die that is,” I tell her.
“Okay … you are weird.”
“That if I die, they’re still to kill any man who makes a move on you or who you try to take home.”
“That’s a bit fucked up. We’ve only had sex a handful of times, and you’re already putting me in your will.”
“You’d be the sole beneficiary, I reckon,” I tease her.
“Yeah, well, I’d be the one to cover up your death, you know, because I couldn’t incriminate myself; I would lose my job.”
“For my death?” I ask her. We completely ignore the loud music and the bodies floating near us.
“Yes, you would have done something to piss me off, of that I am sure…”
“I have no doubt.” I lift her chin so I can lean down and kiss her. She lets me, her hands even lift from my chest to snake around my neck as she pushes her body into mine. I can taste the alcohol on her tongue and want to replace it with my cock.
Fuck.
I’m falling hard for the fucked-up doctor hiding behind a mask.
I suspect that she’s no better than me. She’s always so reluctant to join me, but once she’s in my arms, she can’t help but carve her nails in deeply and possessively—even if she hasn’t realized it herself.
I quite enjoy a game of cat and mouse, and I wonder if she even knows that I will certainly be her demise. Because once I’m determined, there’s no changing my mind.
31
LEONORE
It’s close to midnight as I lean over an urgent job that arrived forty minutes ago. A man wearing dress pants, a silk shirt, and a pair of three-hundred-dollar shoes. He died in a nightclub skirmish between the Hayes and the Neros.
Two hours ago, he was a living, breathing man who didn’t realize the end was so brutally close. I can still smell the whiskey on his lips.
He didn’t stand a chance against his wounds. Two bullets. One in his neck. The other in his heart. Whoever did this knew what they were doing.
I remove the first bullet with the experience of someone who has done this more times than she cares to admit and drop it into the stainless steel dish on the counter beside me.
The second bullet comes out with ease, and I drop it beside the first one.
My clients want this man to disappear off the radar. That’s why he was brought to me. They didn’t want his death registered. Not yet. I don’t know why, and I don’t ask. The less I know, the better. But I assume it has something to do with the power struggle within the crime families. With the deaths of twoof the Nero brothers, I’m sure other crews will test their strength and see if there’s an opening to gain more power and ground.
I’m deep in concentration when the buzzer cuts through the silence and interrupts me.
I glance up at the wall-mounted monitor, which is linked to the camera outside the building’s entrance. It’s one of eight cameras I had installed when I took over this place. In my line of business with my kind of clients, it pays to have as much security as possible.
As well as the surveillance equipment, I have a state of the art alarm system and a panic button. And if a threat somehow makes it past all this security, there is a gun sitting in a drawer across the room.
