Dirty Ugly Toy (21 page)

She nods and walks over to him to pick a piece of lint from his shoulder. The gesture is motherly in nature and it warms me. But the vulnerable, despondent look in his blue eyes nearly guts me. “Take your time, sir. If the day gets away from you, take her to one of those seafood restaurants at one of the piers. Don’t rush on account of me. I was going to make something simple anyway.”

He breaks away from her and for a moment a funny tightness makes my chest ache. Why does this feel like a date? And why does that notion excite me?

“This is not
Pretty Woman.
I am not Richard Gere and you aren’t Julia Roberts,” he groans when I drag him into a coffee shop.

I can’t help but laugh. I’ve been comparing us to the movie and trying to irritate the shit out of him by my incessant babbling. It’s working, sort of. He seems more amused than annoyed though.

“Coffee is the workaholic’s heroin,” I tell him knowingly as we stand in line.

He raises a brow as if to inquire how I know about anything other than being a skanky ho. I shrug my shoulders. “I wasn’t a whore my whole life, Mr. Kennedy.”

His answering smirk is endearing and I sigh. It’s been fun letting Dubois cart us around to all the shops in Seattle today. I spent three hours in Target alone, much to Brax’s horror, and bought every pair of yoga pants they had in my size.

“What were you then?”

“I’ll have a Grande Café Mocha with extra cream. And big boy here’ll have something tall and dark. Stir in a little evil while you’re at it,” I tell the barista, careful to evade his question. The blonde at the register scrunches her nose in confusion.

Brax huffs. “A Grande Drip. Black.”

“Like his soul,” I add in.

He pinches my butt and I laugh. The girl rings us up but refuses to make eye contact. Once we have our coffees in hand and are seated by the window that overlooks the rainy Puget Sound, Brax clears his throat.

“Bunny, what did you do? Before. Before prostitution and before the souvenir shop?”

I drag my gaze from the water and regard him with a frown. “Stuff. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m just a whore now.” My words are bitter and I have to look away from his beautiful face. We were having fun and now things have taken a turn down Shitty Lane.

He reaches across and takes my hand. “Tell me.”

Huffing, I meet his interested stare. “I managed an office at a law firm.”

Shock crosses his features and then he scowls. “Are you educated?”

I swallow and nod my head. “Bachelor’s in Business Law. I minored in Accounting.”

We sit in silence, each of us lost in our thoughts while we drink our hot coffees. It warms me a little but my toes are still little popsicles. Heels weren’t meant for shopping in Seattle in the fall.

“Jesus,” he says with a groan and stands, striding over to a trash can to drop his empty cup. I can’t help but admire his butt in his sexy jeans. The man was a pig yesterday but I still wanted him. Today, he’s so close to perfect that it’s scary. My hopes are on a rollercoaster ride as I attempt to keep up with his ever-changing moods.

He stalks out of the shop and stands in the rain for a moment, running his hands through his hair. The man is hot, no denying that. I just wish he wasn’t so cold too.

I abandon my cup and hurry after him. He’s climbing back into the car and slams the door shut before I reach him. I’m about to hop in after him when Dubois shakes his head at me from beside the car.

“What?” I hiss.

His face sours. “Whatever it is you think you’re doing, you should stop.”

I gape at him in confusion. “Stop what, Dubois?”

“You say and do things to make him weak. He may be my boss but he’s also my friend,” he clips out. “I won’t allow you to hurt him.”

Flipping him off, I snap at him. “You’re blind if you think it’s
him
who’s getting hurt in all of this. Newsflash, it’s
me
. And for some reason I seem to like it.”

His gaze softens. “He’s not as tough and put together as he outwardly displays. For some odd reason, you get inside of him like no other woman ever has. I hope that you don’t abuse that power.”

He opens the door and I huff as I get inside the car. His words irritate me. I’m not the one calling the shots around here. I’m not the one whipping people. I’m not the one controlling every single aspect of someone’s life. So why is Dubois so pissed at me?

“Now what?” I question Brax. His frame is rigid as he stares out the window.

“I was going to buy you a computer and help you enroll in some college courses. That’s part of what I do for my toys. But you . . .”

“I’m different.”

He exhales loudly and glares at me. “The statement of the fucking year.”

“You don’t have to buy me a computer, Br—” I start but quickly catch myself. “You don’t have to buy me a computer, sir. However, I could help you work if you want. It’s kind of boring spending the day getting all dolled up. As much as I like gazing dreamily into Cartier’s chocolate eyes, sometimes a girl has to give her hormones a break.”

He growls and I laugh. “Bunny, he’s gay.”

Shrugging, I pat his knee. “I like to look at pretty things, what can I say. Don’t get all jealous on me. I just said I’d rather spend my time with you than staring at the angel man.”

His chest puffs out a bit and I curl up against his side as Dubois merges into traffic. A shiver that has nothing to do with the frigid air courses through me when he wraps a heavy arm around me.

“At the next stop can I change? I’m freezing in these pants and shoes. I think my toes are going to fall off,” I mutter against his chest.

He tenses but slides his palm up and down my back quickly as if to warm me up. “They won’t let you into the restaurant I made reservations at if you’re looking like a soccer mom.”

My lips find his neck and I press a soft kiss there. “So take me somewhere I’ll be accepted.”

I traded my slacks for a fitted pair of jeans and my heels for socks and comfortable tennis shoes. Now I feel like a hundred bucks.

“I smell fish. Christine will be happy,” I laugh as we walk arm in arm into the Pike Place Market.

He chuckles and I love the rich sound that somehow makes its way above the loud roar of people shopping in the market. “I think she will be, Bunny.”

“What’s up Dubois’ butt anyway?” I question and stop to inhale a bouquet of pink and yellow roses. “He’s been grumpier than usual today. I guess he doesn’t like me much, huh?”

When I pop back up and glance at Brax, he seems angry—his jaw clenches and the deep blue turns grey. “He’s protective over me is all.”

I nod and don’t push the matter any further. He’s been fun to be around today and I don’t want him to go back to being a jerk. Together, we make it through the maze of people and browse trinkets and treats on the way to the “soccer mom” restaurant. When I’ve officially driven him crazy, and like a little kid begged for everything, we finally make it to the end and he guides me into a casual seafood restaurant.

The server seats us by a window that has a spectacular view of the Sound and the Ferris wheel. He orders a bottle of their finest wine—which only costs twenty eight dollars—and studies the menu with a sour pout.

“You’re spoiled, Braxton Kennedy.”

He peers over his menu and his gaze darkens. “And you like pushing your luck,
toy
.”

I swallow and glance back down at my menu. Something happened from the time we got out of the car until now to change his mood. He’s not the playful boyfriend-type sex god from earlier. Now, he’s back to playing master and if I don’t cut the shit, he’ll probably bend me over his knee right here in the restaurant. The image of him sliding his belt off and having me bare my ass to him in front of everyone causes heat to rush through me, straight to my core.

“I hate your spankings,” I say in a whisper. “But for some reason, I think about them a lot. And for some really odd reason, it makes me hot.”

He grits his teeth and drops his menu. “I should make you suck my cock right here under this table.”

I have to look away for a moment, unable to meet his eyes. Images of his humiliating suggestion heat my cheeks and causes an ache of need to bloom in my lower belly. When I look up again, I find him shaking his head.

“Jesus, Bunny. Does anything frighten you?”

My skin chills as I think about
him
. I blink away my nauseating memories and glance down at the menu. “Have you tried the salmon here?”

I know he hasn’t but I’m desperate to change the subject.

His foot nudges mine under the table and I feel compelled to look at him. He demands attention without uttering a word. Authority pulsates through the air—charging it—as he watches me. I’m not afraid of him—quite the opposite actually. When he gets all “I’m the Master” on me, I get turned on.

“I’m going to find out what scares you,” he tells me with a growl, “and I’m going to make you face it.”

He’ll never know.

He’ll never know.

“What can I get you two?” The server smiles at us and thankfully disrupts our odd exchange.

I’m still frozen somewhere between the past and the present so Brax orders the salmon for me.

“I
will
find out, Bunny.”

Undress and wait in the Princess Room.

His words had been short and without any inflection of emotion. I’m confused because despite him being seemingly pissed at me during dinner and afterward, once he guided me straight to the car, he still went back and bought me the yellow and pink rose bouquet. It was sweet and they were fragrant, I’d been in love with the flowers and the gesture. However, the entire ride home was awful as he ignored me completely.

Now, he’s downstairs barking orders at Dubois to unload all the packages and I’m hiding naked in my closet. He’d said be in the Princess Room naked and waiting. Since the closet is in the room, I’m technically not disobeying. My feet are cold again now that I’m naked and I shiver just wondering about how cold they’ll get in the Hole. I wish he’d just take me back to his fur rug downstairs in his room.

My mind flits to the conversation with Natalie. Once we’d come home, I’d asked to use Brax’s phone to call her. To my surprise, he handed it over without questions. The small morsel of trust made it easier to make the call. Despite his seemingly angry disposition at dinner and on the way home, he’d softened momentarily at my request.

“I’m glad you called, Jessica. I am here to help you. Not hurt you.”

I chew on my lip as I clutch the phone and swivel in his office chair. His office smells like him and even though I’d been humiliated here yesterday, I don’t have any ill feelings now. In fact, I find comfort here because it reminds me of Brax. I’m beginning to associate that sensation with him no matter how hard he tries to fuck with me. Deep down, he has another side—a side I witnessed today while out on the town with him before he got all pissy. And I want that side of him too.

“I like it when he hurts me but I don’t want it all of the time,” I whisper, as if voicing it implicates me in some sexual crime.

I can hear the smile in her voice. “Of course not. Who would want to be hurt all of the time? As humans, we crave gentle connection too. Do you feel like you receive those connections?”