Vicious (15 page)

I opened
one of the many bottles he had. I was beginning to learn the difference between all these twisting French names and the relevance of the years. Carrying the glass carefully, I headed to his office, knocking gently before carrying the glass in. This room was dark with wood panelling and a large oak desk. It was at the desk that Brody sat with his head in his hands, elbows resting against the desk. He looked up, seemingly remembering himself as I entered.

I placed it down in front of him, he gave no smile or thanks, but I
was used to that by now. I felt like I should have asked him what was wrong, it would be the polite thing to do. But then again, I didn’t particularly care about whatever his problems were. Before I could walk away though, he caught my wrist and pulled me to him. Swiftly, he stood, placing me on the desk. He wasted no time in pushing up my skirt and pulling my panties aside. It was uncomfortable as he first entered me, but it wasn’t long before I was wrapping my leg around his waist and urging him on. It felt good to have my clothes on and be less exposed during this most intimate of moments.

He pulled out, and rested his head on my shoulder as he breathed deeply. I stayed there, still.  Then, just as suddenly as he had taken me, he straightened and fixed himself up. Without looking at him, I slip
ped off the desk, swiftly putting my panties back in place and straightening my skirt before walking out.

The food was terrible. We sat at the table and ate in silence. He
chewed, making a grimacing face from time to time which I knew meant that the food must have been really awful because normally he didn’t let his reactions show that much. Finally, after soldiering through part of it myself, I put down my knife and fork and reached for his plate.

“You don’t have to eat it,” I sighed, taking the utensils from his
hands. “It looked so easy on TV, they didn’t say anything about how easy it was to make it taste like shit.”

I started to take them to the kitchen.

“It didn’t taste like shit,” he called to me.

I turned around.
“Really?”

“More like rubber.” He cracked a smile, which was weird, because it wasn’t his
normal nasty smile, it was one of amusement.

I made a face
and grabbed the phone. “What do you want to eat, then?”

He pushed his chair back, standing. “Come on, we’ll go out.”

We never went out
anywhere.
We ended up at
Luciens.

“I’m not dressed for this,” I told him.

“Who cares? It’s my place,” he said as he parked the car. As soon as we entered, the maître d’ fawned over us. But on our way to be seated, an older man waved us over.

“Shit,
” I heard Brody mutter. The man who stood had Brody’s dark features and unfriendly face. Brody didn’t bother to introduce me, but I felt the man’s eyes rake over me.

“Who’s your friend?” he asked.

“This is Violet,” Brody said tightly. “Violet, this is my father, Michael Mero.” The man gave me a slight nod, and I felt like I had been dismissed. He turned to Brody but before he could say anything, Lisa Mero swept in.

“Brody.
” she kissed him on the cheek, before turning to me and brushing her cheek against mine. She smelt like perfume and make-up. “And Violet, what a lovely surprise. Brody’s finally showing you off, that’s sweet.” I guessed that was bitchiness coming out over the plastered on smile. She turned to her husband and placed a hand on his arm. “Have you invited them out to the lake house next weekend?” She turned back to us. “I thought it would be nice for us to all spend some time together.”

“I’m sure that I’ll be busy,” Brody said.

His father turned his gaze solely to his son. “I’m sure that you’ll be able to make an effort. Lisa seems to think family is important.”

Amusement crossed Brody’s face. “Yeah, I think Lisa’s made it clear how
fond
she is of family members.”

Lisa’s fake smile dipped slightly, and she looked sad. Michael Mero’s expression, however, never changed. “We’d better be going, we have another engagement.” He looked pointedly at his son. “I’ll expect to
see you at the lake house.” He strode away, and Lisa gave us both a glance before hurrying after him. Brody watched them go, that normal mask back over his features before he led us to our table. I let him order the wine before I asked him the question.

“What did you mean when you said Lisa was fond of family members?”

He looked surprised, I rarely asked him questions, but he answered anyway. “Lisa was my girlfriend first, before she set her sights on my father, or he set his sights on her. I was never sure which happened first.”

“Oh.” I really hadn’t expected that. “Are you still upset about it?”

He looked at me hard. “No.” The tone held more hostility than he normally used with me.

I sat back in my chair. “Relax, it was just a question. And obviously you are still upset over it otherwise you would never have answered me like that.”

He frowned at me and opened his mouth to say something, then obviously thought better of it and snapped his fingers impatiently at a passing server. “We’re ready to order.”

I wanted to smile, he was unsettled.
I
had unsettled him. That gave me satisfaction. Once the trembling server took our orders, Brody leaned back and looked at me in that irritating way of his that always made me feel like I was naked. I didn’t flinch from his gaze.

“What about you?
Any old boyfriends who you still think about?” It was odd question coming from him, and I wondered what his motive was. He wasn’t one for idle conversation.

“No,” I lied. Damon was none of his business.

He waited, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of saying any more. His gaze never wavered though. “So, when was the last time that you called your mother?”

That hit me, and I had to do everything I could to keep my face as stone. “She’s dead,” I said simply.

He leaned forward like he was going in for the kill. “Only in the mind perhaps. Last I heard she was alive and not so well at a mental health facility in—“

“How did you know that?” I snapped at him across the table.

The smug smile crossed his features. “I know everything about you, Violet. I always look into my investments.”

“I’m not an investment.” I felt my hands start to shake under the table and I clasped them together tightly
.

He let out a laugh. “Of course you are
. I spend money on you and you give me something in return. That’s how it works. That’s how I knew you were so pathetic that you’d take me up on my offer.”

Anger sparked, but I controlled it. I tilted my head to watch him, imagining I was some kind of wild cat about to pounce on my prey. “Wow. You really do still have it bad for Lisa if she upset you this much. Normally, you’re just arrogant, aloof and an asshole. Now you’re being hurtful and sadistic. Maybe your weird family should go on Dr Phil or something, you obviously all need some help.”
I casually reached for my wine. I had controlled the shaking.

His hand shot out and gripped my wrist before
I reached the glass. My eyes flicked to his hand tightly holding my wrist before I met his gaze. “If you want to see what sadistic really is, honey, then I’ll show you as soon as we get home.” His voice was tight and low.

We stared at each other, and I felt my heart beating faster but I didn’t tear my eyes away, as much a
s I wanted to. I couldn’t let him win so instead I curved my lips into a smile. “Promises, promises,” I mocked.

He let my wrist go suddenly, it hurt, but I didn’t let it show. I casually took hold of my wine glass and took a sip. His eyes were still on me, and I had never imagined that they could look more hostile than they normally did
, but they did now. And a small amount of fear ran through me, although I didn’t let it show. I would never let him see that.

We ate our meals without a single word being uttered between us. The silence was heavy and uncomfortable,
and I made sure to keep my eyes on my food or on other diners. I would look anywhere but at him.

“Finished?” he asked, throwing his napkin on the table.

“Yes.” My reply was just as curt.

There was no conversation on the drive home, none in the lift, and once we were inside I made to walk to my bedroom.

“Stop,” he ordered.

“What?”

“In there.” He pointed to his bedroom which I never went in. I hesitated, I didn’t want to be around him right now with his mood.

He stood over me, glaring down.
“If you don’t want to. There’s the door. Leave at any time.”

My jaw tensed.
Right, and where would I go? He knew I had nothing. So I swallowed and walked through the door into his suite. The room was huge, dominated by a huge bed with a four poster metal frame. Everything in the room was black and masculine. The lights were bright and I moved to turn on a bedside lamp for a softer light so at least I wouldn’t have to fuck completely exposed.

“No.”  I turned to look at him as he advanced on me. A hand went to the back of my head to gather my hair in his fist. It wasn’t tight enough to be uncomfortable, but it was secure enough to know that I couldn’t have left then if I’d wanted to. “I’ve let you take enough liberties. I’ve pandered to your whims about screwing in the dark so far, but you’re not in control her
e, Violet. I think it’s time you learned that.” His voice was soft, the type of tone you used to mislead someone into a trap. It was like velvet covering something steel with sharp teeth. He released my hair, stepping back until he was up against a leather armchair then he sunk down into it, never once removing his eyes from me.

“Strip,” he said. “Right here in front of me.”

I gritted my teeth. “Why do you have to be such a prick?”

A small smile played on his lips. “Buying for time won’t help you, Violet.”

I took a breath, and started to remove my clothes. There was nothing sexy about the way I did it. My hands shook half with anger and half with dread as I clumsily removed my top and stepped out of my skirt.
You’re being stupid, Violet. Stop being stupid. He’s touched every part of you, why do you care so much?
But I did, and I hated his control.

I didn’t need him to spur me o
n to remove the bra and panties; I knew no modesty would be allowed. When I stepped out of the last item, the panties, I crossed an arm over my breasts while the other cupped between my legs. He nodded slightly. “Nice, very nice. I don’t see why you need to hide.” When I didn’t answer him, he said, “For god’s sake, drop your arms.” I did, biting my lip so hard that I expected blood.

He stood and crossed the room to stand in front of me, brushing a stray strand of hair from my cheek. “I promised you sadism, didn’t I?”

I looked away, toward the floor, but his finger came up under my chin, forcing it upward so I had to look at him. “You don’t look away unless you tell me to, understand?”

I wondered if he could see the beginnings of hatred burning in my eyes. I answered, “
Yes,
” through gritted teeth.

“Good. Go open that cupboard.” He nodded toward the shiny black armoire which stood against the far wall. I did as he
said, dread swirling within me with each step that I took. I felt like Pandora about to open a box that she shouldn’t and unleash hell. The doors of the armoire clicked open and swung free with ease. It didn’t contain hell on earth. Well, maybe it would be hell for me, because the armoire contained racks of perversions. Handcuffs, whips, vibrators, clamps…Brody was a kinky fuck.

He must have moved silently across the room, because suddenly I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck and it made me shudder. “See anything you like?” he whispered in my ear.

“Since when has what I wanted ever been a factor?” I asked, my eyes glued to the array of instruments in front of them.

“Good point.”

I reached forward, running my hand over a selection of whips. I could smell leather and oil. I plucked a small, vicious looking crop out, running my hand the length of it before turning to Brody. “Do I get to use this on you?”

He laughed. “Try it
, sweetheart. Just try it.” He took it from my grasp, and my hand suddenly felt empty without it. I imagined striking him with it across the face, a line of red appearing on his perfect cheek. He ran that very crop down my face slowly, following the line of my neck, over my breasts and stomach, to end where my legs met. He rubbed it over my pussy in a way that had me almost moving my hips to meet the cruel thing.

Almost, b
ut not quite.

“Grab the cuffs,” he instructed. I paused, and a light tap of the crop on my ass spurred me on.
The cuffs were heavy and cold, he snatched them from me before saying curtly, “Get on the bed, face down.”

“Brody—
“ I think that was the first time that I ever said his name, not that it did me any good.

“Are you scared, Violet?
I hope you are because nothing ever seems to really rattle you. There’s no fear, no feeling. Sometimes I wonder if you’re a fucking human. But I’m guessing that I’ll find out now. So
get on the bed
.”