Wicked Beast (Wicked Ever After Book 2) Read online

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of any wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction including brands or products.

  Copyright © 2017 Nazarea Andrews.

  Wicked Beast

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by A&A Literary.

  Summary: James ‘Beast’ Lutz doesn’t trust Beauty. But as he gets to know her, he finds himself falling in love.

  Contemporary romance 2. Erotic fairy tale 3. Novella

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  For information, address Nazarea Andrews

  [email protected]

  Edited by Allica Henry

  Cover design by The Illustrated Author

  Cover art copyright©: Nazarea Andrews

  Ebook Formatting by A & A Literary

  Prologue

  When I was fifteen, my dad dragged me to a drafty old building in downtown Atlanta, and I took a test.

  I think, if I’d have known that test would open the doors it did, and shove me into a different life, I might not have taken it. I spent enough time growing up faking my intelligence that I could have done it, could have thrown the test.

  Instead, I did what I was told, and I fucking blew their minds, and it opened doors I didn’t know were even possible.

  I think that’s a pretty apt example of everything that came after.

  Chapter 1.

  Impassive brown eyes stared at me and I really wanted to fidget under her gaze.

  It’s not that I didn’t want this. I did. It’s that Beauty scared the fuck out of me. She waved a hand and looked at the request again, her image on my computer crackling a little. “This is…no small thing, that you ask for.”

  “I know.”

  She leans back in her desk chair, tucked somewhere in Atlanta that she never bothered to share with the Kingdom, and I felt a fission of fear. There was something cold and calculating about her now, draining all that sweet warmth out of her expression.

  I’d seen that look in enough eyes to know exactly what it meant.

  “If I do this and Mal finds out, I lose my membership. I’ll be kicked out of the Kingdom and blacklisted in the city.”

  I lick my lips and nod.

  “Why should I risk my neck for you?” she asks, and the steel in her voice eases a little, just enough that curiosity peeks through, and I blink.

  Beauty is cold, almost frighteningly blank. Even when she’s with a submissive, she’s detached, so much so that she can’t keep a submissive.

  It’s one thing to bend to a Domme. It’s another to bend and know that she doesn’t want you.

  “What do you want?” I ask.

  She eyes me briefly, those dark eyes fathomless and unreadable behind her mask.

  “I’ll do it. The contract will be at your home tomorrow. If it is acceptable, have it signed and returned to me within twenty-four hours. When I see it, your….favor…will be fulfilled.”

  I let out a breath and nod. “Thank you.”

  “Beast,” she says, her voice strangely hesitant.

  I pause in the middle of ending the video call and look at her.

  “He will be upset.”

  It’s not a question. I nod. “He will be.”

  “Then why? He is your...friend.”

  “Because he is my brother,” I say, tired, “and he’s too stupid to take what they both need.”

  She is silent for a long moment, and then, “My contract will be there by eight am. Please do not delay in your decision.”

  She kills the connection and I am left alone with a blank screen.

  I wonder if I should have asked for her to keep this all to herself. The last thing I need is for Charm to find out about this before I’m ready.

  It’s too late now.

  I shove away from the computer, wander into my bathroom to shower, and I very deliberately do not think about what the hell Beauty might ask for.

  ~

  The contract comes in a small box, which is a little surprising until I open it and see the mask, lacy and shining with sequins, and I feel a flash of amusement.

  Of course. Beauty is known for her mask. In a situation like this, it’s almost ridiculous that I thought she would not provide one for Celeste.

  The contract itself is simple, and it stops me cold.

  Three months as her submissive, living with her in a power dynamic that I can’t escape. There’s more to it, of course—Beauty is very good at this, very thorough, and I wonder how often she’s made a contract like this, how many men have come before me.

  I should say no. I can work the security system at the Kingdom, can wipe the tapes. I can do this without her.

  Or…

  I scrawl my name on the empty line, date the damn paper, and slide it into the envelope, before calling messenger service.

  I don’t like thinking about shit, not too hard. I prefer to ride my own intuition and gut instinct, and everything in me is saying that this is how I buy Charm’s happiness.

  It’s how I show him the way to his damn happy ending.

  Charm, of all of us, deserves that.

  I text Celeste and then I smile, pleased with myself.

  If I knew then how much this one choice would change everything else—I might have walked away. I might have said, “No, it’s too much.”

  Then again, maybe I wouldn’t have. Maybe I would have done the same damn thing because service and giving everything I have is part of who I am.

  Besides, it’s three months. How bad could it possibly be?

  ~

  The truth is, she scares me. The idea of being at anyone’s control, so completely—I’m a submissive, and a damn good one, but this is a lot. I don’t think I realize it until I’m standing in my dungeon and she’s waiting for me to hand her the contract.

  “You don’t want to be my sub,” she says, a low, disembodied voice behind me. I shrug and tug my collar off. It’s been a long fucking night and my whole body aches.

  “I’m fulfilling a contract, Beauty. I haven’t indicated that I won’t do that.”

  There’s a moment of silence and then, “You will move into my apartment this weekend. Before then, I would like all of these done. Does that meet with your approval?”

  I shudder. She’s so fucking cold. A slip of paper with a neatly written list appears in front of me and I stare at it.

  “I’m clean,” I say, “I get tested here once a month.”

  And I don’t fluid bond, ever.

  “Even so,” she says.

  I huff. “Fine. I’ll see your damn physician.”

  She steps close to me, still in the darkness at my back. I stand in front of her, the softness of her shirt brushing against my bare back, and I don’t know if I want to move away or lean back against her.

  It’s only when her lips brush against the nape of my neck and she murmurs, very softly, “Good boy”, that I decide.

  And then she’s gone, and it’s too damn late to change my mind.

  Chapter 2.

  The music is pulsing, a little louder than normal. It feels like a living thing, skidding along my skin and teasing. I grit my teeth against the lure of it, the lure of everything around me, and turn my attention to the small cluster of gi
rls a few feet away.

  This—all of this—is fucking stupid.

  “Ladies, he’s never going to see you if you don’t go out there,” I say mildly, and one of them—I know this one, Tess—blinks big brown eyes at me. She looks absolutely terrified, and I smile, as bright and reassuring as I can. “Go on. He doesn’t bite.”

  Something like disappointment shows in her eyes, and I swallow my laugh before I turn away.

  The Kingdom is at it’s very best today. A few Doms eye me as I stride through the crowd, but none come near me.

  Not tonight.

  I almost wish they would. It’d be a distraction and god knows I could use one of those.

  “Beast,” one of my bartenders calls out, scurrying up to my side, “There’s a problem in the Black Room.”

  I glance back at the Floor. Charm is lounging in his seat, bored and discontent. Wolf is tying a girl in knots on the main platform. Mal is doing—fuck, what the hell is he even doing?

  I shake the thought and nod at my staff. Everyone is where they should be, which means I’m up.

  “I’ll be right there,” I murmur and she flashes me a grateful look before she’s darting away, wobbling a bit on the heels that are a little shorter than Kingdom regulations require.

  I frown. I should probably talk to her about that.

  The Black Room is dark, as always—black walls, black floors, black furniture. Tiny white pinpricks of light decorate the walls and ceiling, giving the effect of a starscape, but the room was made for darkness and the things that could be done there.

  Beauty sits at one table, a shivering blonde girl crouching at her feet.

  Gavin stands a few feet away, glaring at them both.

  “Let her go,” he snarls.

  “You should leave,” Beauty says, in that low monotonous voice I’ve come to expect from her.

  “Fuck you, bit—“

  “Hey!” I snap, stepping forward. Gavin startles, his bright blue gaze darting to me, but Beauty—she doesn’t even react.

  She knew I was watching.

  “What the hell is going on?” I glare between the two of them.

  “The girl was with me,” Gavin growls.

  “The girl was in pain and wanted you to leave her alone.”

  I sigh. “Beauty, pain is sort Miranda’s thing.”

  Brown eyes flick to me, assessing and dismissing behind her mask. “No.”

  I pause.

  “Miranda’s thing, Beast, is submission. I’ve have scened with her. She’s a natural. The pain is an aphrodisiac for her, but pain for the sake of it, without the care of a Dom? No. That is not her thing. And this one—this one would give pain for no purpose other than to see a girl break.” She sniffs and I swallow a curse.

  She isn’t wrong. Gavin is a sadistic bastard—and I’m best friends with Malachi White, so that’s saying something.

  “Miranda, honey, why don’t you go back to the Floor?” I suggest and she throws a quick look at the two dominants, but then she obeys, scurrying away from them and into the bright hall.

  The door shuts behind her, and we’re back to darkness and the quiet noise of Beauty breathing.

  “You had no fucking right to do that,” Gavin snaps.

  “Um, hello, I’m Beast. I sorta have all the fucking rights here,” I say coolly, because one thing I won’t tolerate is this dick questioning me in my own goddamn club.

  A noise almost like a laugh comes from Beauty and I want to glare at her.

  But for the moment, my attention is on Gavin. I smile at him, tight and sharp, and straighten a little. “Find someone or somewhere else to play,” I say.

  There's a tense moment when I don't think he'll listen. I'm a sub. This man had seen me cuffed and gagged and beaten. He's watched me crawl to my Domme’s feet.

  I don't give orders, I take them.

  In this, however. I stare at him, very coldly until he finally relaxes and offers me a smile that’s all teeth and lies.

  “Easy enough,” he murmurs and he's gone, slipping away into the bright lights of the Hall.

  I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, and some of the tension slips from my shoulders. It's always a bit of a gamble, to see if a Dom will listen when I give an order.

  There's such a fine line to walk. Submission when I'm in a scene doesn't mean I'll let any Dom in the club give me orders or ignore my authority here.

  “You handled that well,” Beauty says softly and I twist to look at her. “You have a natural gift for authority.”

  I shrug and nod. “Maybe not natural but I mean, I can get people to do what I want.”

  Her head tilts, curiosity her eyes. “Why, then, do you submit?”

  I laugh, a little nervous. “Kinda heavy for a first date, huh?”

  “Is that what you think this is?” she murmurs and I don't know how to respond to that so I don't. I just stare at her until she looks down at the bottle of water she's holding. “Having second thoughts?”

  “Little late for that, don't you think?”

  She hums an agreement under her breath and stands. “Come. It would be better if you and I were easily accounted for when Cinderella arrives.”

  Like a well-trained sub, I follow her.

  We reach the Floor and when she starts to move away, I clear my throat. Something tells me she will hear it and she does, turning to give me her attention. I wonder, vaguely, what her expression truly is, under that black and white mask.

  “Why did you intervene?”

  She stares at me for a long time and then shrugs delicately. “I would want someone to protect my sub, if I were unable to.”

  “Miranda doesn’t belong to anyone,” I say and Beauty turns away, something warm flashing in her gaze as she does.

  “Not yet.”

  I watch her sway away, and wonder what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.

  Wolf collides with me, all sweaty skin and bristly beard, and I make a face as he nuzzles at my neck.

  "Dude," I mutter, elbowing him.

  "Where you been, Beastie?" he asks, grinning at my annoyance. "And what the fuck are you doing with Beauty?"

  "There was an incident in the Black Room." I shrug, flapping my hand briefly.

  Wolf's frown deepens and he glances over at Beauty, who's drawing a dark haired slender boy from a nest of submissives.

  Even without seeing her face, I can feel the predatory stare she's giving him.

  "Be careful with that one, Beast," Wolf says, slipping into that almost Dom tone my best friends never seem to realize they’re using on me.

  "I'm always careful," I say, grinning up at him.

  He snorts his opinion of that, and turns me toward the Kingdom floor. "Liar. Wanna play?"

  "Someone has to work," I say, gently disentangling myself from his arm. He shrugs, just as happy to scan the crowd.

  Scarlet and Hunter are in the dark corner, and I see his gaze snag there for a second before it slides on.

  "You gonna ever make a move there?" I ask. He gives me a warning look and shoves a bottle of water at me.

  "Mind your business," he mutters and I hide my laugh in the bottle as I watch the club. I’m not needed to do much. I'm just here, the smiling face that makes sure nothing goes wrong.

  But tonight, nothing is going wrong.

  I glance at the large gleaming clock and smile to myself. Beauty pauses, a barely there thing that you'd miss if you didn't know to look for it.

  Five seconds later the whispers start, and I straighten.

  Show time.

  Chapter 3.

  The Audition dies, after Charming takes Cinderella away. Some of the subs stay, but the drive, the force of the night is gone. Mal catches my eye and I nod once before he retreats, hiding behind his walls as some of the attention shifts to him.

  Mal will never have the sheer number of girls throwing themselves at him as Charming does, simply because he’s a cold bastard. In truth, he’s not, not really. There are too
many memories of me sleeping in his bed, waking to find myself draped over his chest while he played with my hair as he read, to ever think Mal was actually cold.

  He’s just distant. He has a strange set of priorities, and a steady stream of faceless girls don’t factor into that.

  It takes me almost two hours to close things down enough to leave the Floor with my shift managers. Wolf had disappeared with a girl who looked—shockingly—like Scarlet. He’d shot me a slightly apologetic look as she tugged him away, but I waved him off. God knows the boy needs to fuck that outta his system.

  “James.”

  It should say something that the low monotone doesn’t surprise me. She’s standing there, impeccable in her midnight blue pants and the ruffled shirt that somehow manages to look old fashioned, adorable, and sexy as fuck, all at the same time.

  “Thought you left a while ago.”

  Beauty’s head cocks and she studies me for a long moment and then, “No.”

  I blink at her. I’m pretty fucking tired, so maybe I’m missing part of this conversation—like the actual conversation?—but, dumbly, I ask, “What?”

  “I have not left,” she says, her voice edging toward that tone that clearly implied I was some kind of idiot. I shake my head and cut to the heart of the matter because if we dance around each other politely for the next however long, I’m never going to get to sleep.

  “Beauty, what do you want?” I ask, patiently.

  She straightens. “I would like to make you orgasm.”

  I almost choke. What the actual fuck?

  “You cannot leave until you have escorted your mysterious masked lady from the Kingdom,” she continues, blithely, “and I would like to ensure that we are compatible before I finalize our agreement.”

  “And you need to make me come to find that out?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, tartly, “I said I would like to. Need doesn’t enter the equation. Are you amenable?”

  Am I… Well, fuck.

  This is, without any doubt, the strangest proposition I’ve ever entertained, but I shrug. Shift my bag on my back, and give her a shit eating grin. “What’d you have in mind, sweetheart?”