Beauty In Her Madness (Winterland Tale Book 3) Page 3

  “Oh, cool.” His eyes on the screen, sounds of explosions and death blared from the TV. “There’s some leftover Chinese in the fridge, and your sister sent us another package… Oh, come on! I totally killed you. That’s bullshit,” he yelled at the game.

  Peeling off my coat, I strolled to the box on top of the tiny dining table. Using a chair as my coat rack, I tossed down my stuff. Alice sent us a box weekly filled with treats from her new thriving café. No one, including me, knew who she hired to bake these delicious treats. Newspapers and magazines were hounding for an exclusive interview with him. All I knew about the baker…it was a him. Whenever Scott or I would ask, she would laugh, a naughty glint in her eyes. “He’s someone you have to see to believe. Plus, he doesn’t want anyone knowing who he is. Just wants to be left alone in his kitchen and bake.”

  It made no sense to me. Didn’t most chefs live to be renowned and to be claimed the best in the world? In New York, this chef had to be expensive to hire. Alice and Matt were doing well, but not that level of well. I didn’t even understand how they could get a space in Greenwich for both their hat shop and the bakery. The rent alone had to be astronomical.

  But my sister seemed to keep a lot to herself lately. Mysterious and cryptic. We had yet to meet Matt’s family or any of their friends in the city.

  “Scott…” I growled, lifting off the top, noticing the box was almost empty. “You ate them all?”

  “No, I left you one of the cinnamon-roasted chestnut cookies and a lemon poppyseed cupcake with the vanilla-honey butter drizzle.” His attention was still focused on the game.

  I knew Alice filled the box with more than a dozen items to keep us going until the next shipment. Scott didn’t have an off button when it came to the delicacies here. He would eat the entire week’s worth, plus mine, in one sitting. And it was starting to show. He was young and ran with me, but his love of the baked goods was turning his average build into a dad bod.

  Annoyed, I flipped the top back down with a huff, Alice’s logo scrolling across the light blue box. I usually didn’t pay much attention to artsy stuff. That was her domain. I could appreciate art, but my brain had no understanding of how she could come up with her designs. Her hat shop was similar to walking into a crazy fantasy world.

  My finger traced over the design, something about it tugging at me this time. Alice and the Hatter poured out of a teapot into an upturned top hat with a red scarf. Even on a box, the scarf appeared like it was blowing in the wind. My gaze drifted to the scarf. Subtle drawings of a penguin, a boy and girl elf, a reindeer, white rabbit, and other Christmas icons were hidden throughout the scarf. Alice loved the holidays as I had, but she had taken her love to another level. My analytical side thought she might be diving into it to forget the awful time two years ago, hiding behind the innocence and joy of Christmas, while I turned against it.

  I loved my older sister more than life itself. She had always been the flighty, impulsive, lost one, while I had every duck in a row. My life had been mapped out and in focus. Now it seemed everything had flipped. She had it all figured out, and I was trying so hard to keep everything together.

  “I’m gonna take a shower and go to bed.” I peered down at my leg; another pair of tights ruined. I was not really a girly girl, and things like tights, heels, and makeup were practically strangers to me.

  “Okay. I’ll be in soon,” Scott muttered before yelling out at the screen. “Die! Come on, I threw a grenade at you.”

  He would not be in soon. Scott could get so lost in the gaming world and let hours pass without notice.

  Strolling over, I gave him a quick kiss.

  “What happened to your leg?” He glanced down at me, a frown lining his face.

  “I fell over a woodpile at work.” I shrugged it off. “No biggie.”

  “You okay?” His eyes darted between the TV and me.

  “Yeah. I’m fine.” I nodded, turning for the bathroom, already stripping off my elf costume, needing so badly to wash this day off and forget.

  “Where did you go before your shift? I came home early, and you were gone.”

  “Oh…” I paused in the bathroom doorway, guilt sliding down my throat. “Just had a few errands to run. You know, get a head start on holiday shopping.”

  “You hate shopping.”

  “Why I want to get it out of the way.” The lie strangled my tongue, and I shut the door. Scott and I shared everything. There wasn’t anything we didn’t tell each other or talk about. Except I didn’t tell him about my therapy session. Or that the night terrors I had as a child were back, along with hearing my name being called, people watching me from the shadows, or the kiss of a man I made up still burned against my lips.

  I stared at myself in the mirror, my brown eyes filled with doubt and fear. Terrified, because in my gut I knew I was falling down the same hole as my sister.

  I was going utterly mad.

  “Dinah. Wake up. Dinah…”

  My lids popped open, air grappling in my lungs like I forgot to breathe in my sleep. My heart thudded in my chest, damp sweat lining my forehead.

  The clock by my bed blinked 3:21 a.m., and the glow from the streetlamp outside pushed through the blinds, giving the room enough light to recognize shapes. Scott’s soft snores echoed in the room, his legs kicking over to my side of the bed.

  Sitting up, I inhaled deeply, trying to shake the feeling I had really heard my name being called into my ear. Deep, gravelly, every letter being dragged out, igniting my skin in shivers. Cold. Demanding. Cruel. But my core throbbed, desire slinking over me, demanding to be quenched.

  My eyes slid to Scott, laying on his side facing me, his mouth open, snoring. He was the kind of cute that grew on you because he was such a nice guy. And totally nerdy, which I adored. Styled brown hair, blue eyes, the kind of guy who wore chinos and button-downs with his chucks. He drank wheat grass in the morning and ate pizza and drank IPA beer at night. He hated the gym but loved hiking. He wasn’t spontaneous or adventurous and could sit for hours playing video games, obsessing over the latest tech gadget. It has been his major in college, and he already worked for a company in Hartford. Since fifteen, I could see our life together, the road simple and clear.

  Sex was fine, but lately we had been so busy it wasn’t as frequent. I had friends at my age who talked about wild sex with the random people they met, while the idea of sleeping with an unknown guy didn’t appeal to me. Scott and I could go over a week without. I think the last time I gave him a blow job was his birthday…five months ago.

  I had never been an overly sexual person, never boy-crazy or sex-crazed. Never once had Scott and I had sex besides in a bed.

  Tonight, my muscles twitched, fire raging in my veins. Need pulsed through me, the longing to lose myself until I was screaming. To feel someone so deep, I could no longer breathe, stars bursting behind my lids, my muscles trembling with ecstasy. The need to be crazed and wild, pushed out of my comfort zones.

  I knew I could wake up Scott, move down his body, bringing him moaning into consciousness with my mouth. But I didn’t.

  The voice from earlier, the one that clawed inside me, tracing my skin with violence and fear, clung inside my head, heating my skin.

  My eyes glinted in the refection across from me. I couldn’t ignore this strange need. A pull to it.

  Quietly, I climbed out of the bed, my feet leading me to the huge mirror over our dresser. I slept in a tank and boy shorts, snug to what minuscule curves I had. But the girl looking back with slightly wavy brown hair hitting just past her shoulders, rosy cheeks, glistening eyes, nipples hard against the fabric didn’t look like me. This girl craved, demanded, and desired passion and adventure.

  I ran my hand over my breasts, tingles raking through my nerves. I felt possessed, the girl looking back hungry for something. My mouth parted in the mirror. Bumps danced down my skin as my hand trailed down to my shorts, my focus on the glass growing so intense that everything blurred around me, e
ven forgetting my boyfriend was sleeping nearby. As if I were in a trance, my gaze pushed past the glass to the person reflecting back. For a moment I thought I saw movement behind it, a dark silhouette as my fingers slipped under my underwear, skating over my folds, my breath hitching, before plunging in.

  I sucked in, drowning in an overwhelming power. I had never been into kinky sex or one who liked watching myself. Every once in a while, Scott and I would role-play a movie like Star Wars or GoT, when we got a little bored. But watching myself now, I felt daring, as if others were watching me too. My muscles tingled as I widened my hips, rubbing my thumb over my nerves, losing myself in the sensation.

  “Dinah… Fuck.” The voice was so deep inside me it licked my bones. My mind shut down all logic as I glided through myself, whatever it was about this voice I created in my head, it turned me violent and wanting. My breath caught as I felt an orgasm start to build, a moan sticking in my throat.

  A man’s growl vibrated under my skin, my lids closed at the rough, feral noise, causing me to go deeper, harder, my lungs puffing as I felt something explode inside me. My head spun, and it felt like I was tumbling forward. Instead of hitting the dresser, I continued to fall…

  My orgasm ripping me away from Earth.

  Descending down a dark, dark hole.

  Chapter 4

  A scream tore from my lips as I plummeted, my body heading straight for what looked like a stone floor. I reached out for anything to hold on to, panic flinging all thought from my head except survival. I knew from the speed I was falling that I was going to die. With another cry, I closed my lids, waiting for my bones to hit, my body to splatter over the ground.

  A few feet from the ground, a gust of wind blew up toward me, wrapping around me, stopping my fall like a parachute. It eased me to the ground, and my bare toes touched the stone floor as I gently landed on my feet.

  I didn’t die…I didn’t die. I patted myself down, inhaling deeply, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. Holy Kris Kringle. I’m alive. It took me several deeper breaths to calm down.

  Eventually, my attention went over the round, gray-blue stone room. The only thing in it was a huge gold-framed mirror. A strange sense of déjà vu fluttered my stomach with a profound familiarity. It was as though I had been here before, which was stupid. I didn’t even know where the hell I was. My head struggled with the logic of being safely in my bedroom and now standing in what looked like a turret of an old castle.

  “You are dreaming. It’s just a dream. Wake up, Dinah.” I pinched my skin. I flinched from the pain, but nothing changed around me. Panic drove up my throat, burning my tongue in acid. “Wake up. Wake up.” I squeezed my lids, pinching my skin hard. “Ow!”

  “If you are into pleasure and pain, maybe I can assist,” a gruff voice rumbled from behind me.

  A scream bucked out of me as I whirled around, my body going into defense mode, ready for an attack.

  A beast of a man leaned against the wall, his almond-shaped eyes glowering, pinning me to the spot and ripping out the air in my lungs. He stood taller than six foot-five and his shoulders were impossibly broad. His jet-black hair was styled back, a thick scruff accentuating his carved jaw. He was dressed in dark jeans, boots, and a black T-shirt, which showed off his muscular biceps. The clothes weren’t meant to be tight, but they clung to his chiseled physique like they wanted to hug him. His appearance was raw. Dangerous. Ten thousand times sexier than any male model I had ever seen. He appeared calm, cool, and slightly bored, but I could feel a wildness, a breath away from violence. Vicious. Brutal. Cold. Cruel. Like he could tear into me and shred me to pieces without hesitation.

  A zing ran up my spine, my body quaking as his lids narrowed on me, his tongue sliding over his full bottom lip.

  Though I couldn’t deny the force of his eyes, the intensity of them flicked a recognition in me. A sense I’d had them on me before.

  His gaze rolled slowly over my figure, taking his time. His heavy scrutiny traced my barely clad figure as if his hands were actually on me, causing my breath to stumble.

  “You’ve grown up.” His tone wrapped around my body with pounding heat. Everything about him and this room screamed cold and unfriendly, but I didn’t feel anything but fire scorching through my veins.

  “Who-who are you?” I stepped back, my body curling in defense. “Where am I?” I glanced around, seeing stairs set between this man and me. “D-did you kidnap me?”

  A slow smirk pulled on his upper lip. “You know I never had to kidnap you, Dinah.” The way his voice curled around my name shot fear across my chest. “You came willingly.” His eyebrows lifted, his eyes drifting back down my breasts, stopping between my thighs. “Literally and figuratively.”

  As if he conjured wind, a gust drove between my legs, the air licking me, parting my mouth with a gasp. A smug smile curved the side of his face.

  “Then what do you want with me?” I brushed off the sensation, trying to plan my escape, inching myself closer to the exit.

  “Oh, that is a loaded question, little one.” His eyebrow lifted, his lip snarling. Fear and something else fired into my system, shivering my bones. I had heard that pet name before, but I couldn’t think of where. “What don’t I want to do with you? It’s all I’ve been thinking about for years. And you deserve all of it.”

  My thighs clenched at his veiled threat, and I swallowed nervously, my breasts rubbing against my tank.

  His eyes dropped to them, a smirk curling at his face, the tip of his tongue slipping over his bottom lip.

  Sugarplum fairy. This man was incredible. He almost didn’t seem real. Men this sexy, smug, and confident always unnerved me. They made me feel out of control. Stupid.

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  “You are in my home.” He motioned around. “I should be asking you that. What do you want with me? Tell me, little one, what brought you back here again?”

  “Again? I don’t know who you are.” A prick of irritation sprung from my mouth.

  “You sure?” His free hand rubbed his chin.

  “Yes. I’ve never seen you before.” I’d remember. Though strangely, the claim crumbled like dirt on my tongue. A lie. “I want to go home.”

  “Then go.” He motioned to the mirror.

  I glanced at the glass then back to him, my lids narrowing.

  “Don’t tell me you forgot how to use them.”

  “Use what?”

  “The mirrors.” He pushed his body off the wall, stepping closer, making me retreat.

  “Mirrors?” This guy was totally bonkers. Great! Just my luck to be kidnapped by a hot crazy person.

  “Seems you have lost yourself, Dinah.” He took another few steps, backing me up more.

  “What are you talking about? Are you insane?”

  “Possibly.”

  “I’ve never met you before. And I certainly don’t want to again. Let me go and I swear I won’t report you to the police or anything.”

  “Report me?” His boots clipped my toes, driving me back again. My spine hit the stone wall, his physique moving in on me, so close I could feel the fabric of his pants brushing my bare legs. “What would you tell them?” He towered over me, his body engulfing mine.

  His scent was clean, like when it first snows and everything is vivid and fresh, every breath sharp snapping your lungs with life, energizing your body. It was one of my favorite smells. Scott used to tease me that I got incredibly horny when I came back from a run in the snow.

  Now I was drowning in it. My breasts heaved at his nearness. Hot and sticky, my body brushed against his icy exterior.

  “What would you say to them?” he growled, his mouth skating by my ear, but not touching. “How did you find your way back here, little one? Tell me.”

  “I-I…” The words died in my throat because what my mind recalled about my journey here was impossible. Crazy and totally illogical.

  “Cat got your tongue? You never used to be short of words.�
� His breath brushed my neck, forcing my lids to squeeze shut, my heart thudding into my ribs. The sense of being off kilter terrified me, but, strangely, I felt alive, more present than I had in a long time. “Always so full of fire, you burned everything in your path.”

  “You’re just a dream. This is not real,” I whispered.

  “Do I feel like a dream to you?” he rumbled in my ear, leaving goosebumps in his wake without even laying one finger on me. “Could you even make me up? You have lost all imagination, all passion, little one. Do you even know who you are?”

  Like an arrow sank into my soul, I was overwhelmed with the feeling of being stripped and left bare—exposed. And I hated it.

  He smirked like he knew he hit the bullseye.

  “Get away from me, asshole.” Rage slammed through my hands as I shoved at his chest, not even moving him an inch. He sucked in sharply, his eyes darting down to where my hands had been. His shoulders tightened, his nose flaring. He moved back, chest puffing, composing his features into stone. “You are a disgusting piece of shit. Have to kidnap women to feel manly? Can’t get laid without forcing ones into your lair?” Which was a total lie; the man could have any woman in the world without even trying. Tempers ran in our family. It usually took time for me to hit mine, but when I did…watch out.

  “Lair!” His mouth twitched with humor, his palm rubbing over his chest where I had hit him. “I don’t need to force anyone. They come begging at my door.”

  He stepped back into me, his hand knotting through my hair, tugging on it. “Over and over, they plead for me to fuck them. Ever have an orgasm so deep every molecule in your body shreds into nothing? Until you have no concept of yourself, and all you feel is utter ecstasy?” His fingers dug into my head, sparking fire down my veins, his voice raspy and turning to fury. “No, I know you haven’t. You have no clue, do you? Vanilla. Boring. Your nice, sweet boyfriend has no idea who you really are underneath.”

  He snarled, looking at me like a piece of dirt. “What’s sad is you don’t either. You have forgotten. Lost your way.” He yanked my head back farther, wetness seeping from me, only rallying my fury. As I wiggled to get free, his grip intensified. Dominant and strong. Qualities Scott didn’t have, but it was one of the reasons I loved him. We were equals. “I could destroy you, Dinah, like you deserve. Break and shatter you into pieces. Strip away everything you ever knew or understood.”