Butterflies & Vicious Lies (Fractured Rhymes Book 1)

“THE WAREHOUSE IS JUST the right size for what you’re wanting to do, and it’s fairly close to that penthouse you’ve been looking at in Bellevue.” Kason flips the iPad around and shows me the pictures he’d taken of the available building. “If you’re serious about running the underground fights now too, there’s space for them on the other side. You’ll be able to keep the poker games and bar separate.”

I’m graduating in a handful of months, and when I do, I’ll be forced to change the location of my current games. It doesn’t make sense to keep them on campus anymore since I’ll no longer be here daily to keep an eye on things.

The Wilde Corporation is going to become mine, but I’m not willing to give up my own side business. I want it to grow as I do, and that’s why when Kason started to talk about how much money is in these fights of his, I started to wonder if I should be investing in them. It’ll be easy money for me, and I already have someone on staff who knows the ins and outs of it all. Sounds like a no-brainer to me. This warehouse Kason found might just be the perfect solution to it all.

“That is if you’re still planning on leaving Seattle next spring,” Kason adds, shoving his hands into his jacket when the rainy wind picks up around us. His hood is already pulled over his head, concealing his buzzed hair. I’m not usually one for meetings in dark parking lots, but he mentioned he was going to be passing by Posie’s dance studio around the same time I planned on being here.

I flip through the pictures and pause when I get to the mock-up of the floor plan. He’s right. It’s exactly the right size for what we’ll be doing.

“Why would my plans be changing?” I ask, still looking at the screen.

“Rumor is you have a girl, and she still has some time before she graduates. I didn’t know if you’d be leaving her here.” The Englishman takes the device back from me when I pass it over to him.

“The penthouse is twenty minutes away from here without traffic.” It’s basically just on the other side of Lake Washington. “It’s not like I’m moving across the country.”

“I know this.” Kason’s wide shoulders shrug. “I just thought, knowing you, you wouldn’t be willing to have her live somewhere you don’t. Thought you were more of a I need her naked and waiting for me in our bed every night kind of guy.”

“We don’t live together,” I tell him, even though it feels like a lie.

Posie’s slept at her apartment twice in the past three weeks, and that’s only because she needed to study for early exams the following morning. As it turns out, I don’t make the most conducive study partner. I tend to selfishly monopolize her time. School has always come easy for me, and studying isn’t something I’ve had to do much of. Posie, on the other hand, has to put more effort into her studies. It’s something I’ve been trying to remind myself of when she has her face in a textbook instead of my lap.

“Alright, mate.” His big hand claps my shoulder before reaching for the door handle of his dark gray jeep. “Figured I’d just ask the question before I start getting things together for you to purchase this location. If you do change your mind and want me to look for locations in Seattle instead, just say the word.”

“I will.”

He gets in the car and, with a quick wave, leaves the parking lot. There are only two cars remaining in the poorly lit parking lot, and they both belong to me. Posie had parked under the sole streetlight, and I’d parked beside her when I got here.

She has no idea that I planned on stopping by tonight, but when she mentioned this morning that she was closing the studio by herself tonight, I decided to use that information to my advantage.

Opening the passenger side door, I grab the hand-sized dark purple box from the seat and head inside the building. Along with the open sign, most of the overhead lights have been turned off. There’s only one fluorescent light that remains lighting up the reception area and the long hallway. On either side of the hall, there are identical rooms. There are big glass windows that allow you to see inside each of the mirrored rooms. I’m sure they’re there so the parents can watch their kids dance during their classes.

I peek into the first two rooms, looking for signs of Posie, but it’s not until I’m halfway down the hall that I hear the soft music. “Never Let Me Go” by Florence + The Machine is a song I’d recognize anywhere because it’s one she used to listen to over and over. I used to tease her about it, but she’d simply just tell me it was her favorite, and it appears it still is.

Coming to the last room on the left, I find her dancing. She’s alone and in the dark, but she’s completely in her element. Dressed in her long-sleeved black leotard and pale-pink pointe shoes, she gracefully twists and leaps across the space with her long legs spread wide.

I was in the audience for many of her ballet recitals in our youth, which I was forced to attend by my mother, and I don’t remember her dancing like this. The choreography always seemed highly technical and strict. They’d rehearsed for months to achieve absolute perfection. The dedication that Posie and her fellow dancers put into those performances was impressive, but I think I like the way she’s dancing now more.

She’s using the same techniques that have been instilled in her since she was young, but there’s a carefree element to her actions now that I enjoy. Posie isn’t following the steps provided by a demanding choreographer, she’s letting the music and her body dictate how she moves.

Completely lost in the dance, she doesn’t notice when I slip through the cracked door and lean against the far wall. I’ll need to have a conversation with her about making sure to lock the front door from now on if she’s going to continue to be here by herself. She’s lucky a monster she knows has snuck in on her.

It’s not until she’s spinning repeatedly in place that she finally spots my reflection in the mirror covering the entire wall.

With a screech, she comes to an uncoordinated stop. Hand flying to her mouth, she stares at me with big eyes. “Jesus Christ, Rafferty!” she shouts from behind her fingers while her chest heaves for breath. “What the hell are you doing here? Why are you sneaking up on me like that?”

“I knocked.”

She doesn’t believe me for a second. “No, you didn’t.”

Moving across the room, she picks up her phone that’s connected to the speakers mounted on the wall and turns off the music. The silence that falls over the space is almost deafening.

“You’re right. I didn’t.” I push off the wall and make my way toward her. “What are you doing?”

Like she’s embarrassed for being caught, her arms cross in front of her and she stares down at her shoes. “I don’t know where my future stands with ballet, but I … I just don’t want to get rusty while I figure it out.”

We’ve never talked about it, and I guess I’ve never really bothered thinking that hard about what it was like for her to lose her place at Juilliard. The only things I cared about when it happened was that she was miserable and heartbroken, which, not too long ago, were my hopes for her. I haven’t considered what her plans would be moving forward.

“Is this still what you want to do after you graduate?”

Her narrow shoulders shrug. “I honestly don’t know anymore. After messing up in New York, I feel a little bit like a failure.”

“After what happened to your dad, it doesn’t make you a failure that you let your grades slip. It makes you fucking human. Bad things like that can’t happen without there being some kind of fallout or collateral damage.”

Her head lifts and her eyes lock with mine. I don’t have to be a mind reader to know what she’s thinking about right now. Each of her thoughts are written across her face.

Frowning, she murmurs, “Yeah… I guess you know that better than anyone.”

I brace myself for the flood of ugly emotion that normally slams into me when the subject of my mom comes up, but to my disbelief, it doesn’t drown me like it usually does. It’s still there, just below the skin like a dull ache. For the first time ever, it’s bearable.

Is this what it’s like to heal?

Wait? Is that what I’ve been doing these past few weeks with Posie? Have I been healing?

The startling realization hits me. That’s exactly what’s been happening. I started to let go of my anger and blame like my grandmother told me to do, and while I did, the gaping wounds that were left in my heart and soul started to mend. Posie—the girl I thought I wanted broken and destroyed—took the broken pieces she left behind and stitched them back together without me noticing.

Posie did what she’s always done. She saved me.

“Raff?” Her hand wraps around my forearm, pulling me from the sudden jarring self-realization. “Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere.” I clear my throat. Even if I did want to talk about it, I don’t quite know how yet. Before she can ask me anything, I bring the conversation back to her future. “If you were offered a place in a ballet company tomorrow, would you take it?”

Her head cocks, the messy bun she has on her head sways with the movement, and her eyes narrow with suspicion. “Did I rightfully earn my place, or is this one of those scenarios where you call in a favor or use a secret for blackmail to get me in?”

I don’t bother lying, she’d see through me anyway. “Probably the latter.”

“If I can’t earn my position in a dance company, then I don’t want to be part of it. It wouldn’t feel right.”

I can’t help but groan at her. This shows how different we are. Where I wouldn’t have thought twice about cheating the system, Posie would never consider it. “You may have grown up around us, but you’re your father’s daughter through and through with those strong morals.”

Eyes rolling in her head, she shoves at my chest, backing away a step or two. “My morals aren’t that strong.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask, reclaiming the space she’d just put between us. Where do you think you’re going, baby, I’m not done with you yet. Her chin tips up when I cage her in my arms. “What makes you say that?”

“I’m with you, aren’t I? If I had strong morals, I wouldn’t let you do half the shit you do to me, and I sure as hell wouldn’t enjoy them as much as I do.”

She’s with me. Is there any point in denying that truth any longer? It’s a waste of my time and it’s not doing me any good. It’s been nice not feeling miserable every second of every day, and with Posie back in my life, that hollow spot that’s been in my chest all this time has started to fill. I know it will never be whole. The piece my mom took with her when she left us is something I’ll never get back.

“That’s probably a fair deduction,” I tell her before skimming my lips across hers. The small contact instantly has her hands reaching out for me. Her fingers grab hold of the edge of my jacket. “Speaking of shit I make you do, how do you feel about dancing for me?”

“The last time you asked me to do that, you held a gun to my head.”

That was not my finest moment, I’ll admit. “If I remember correctly, I never did get my dance though. I have something better in mind this time if you’re willing to play with me.”

Her white teeth nibble on her bottom lip while she makes up her mind. After a minute, she smirks. “I’m always willing.”

She moans into my mouth when I kiss her again. This time, deeply and borderline too rough. My fingers wrap around her throat, applying just enough pressure to let her know I’m in control, and she doesn’t flinch or try to pull away. Anyone else might be turned off by the harshness of my touch, but not her. Never her. She takes everything I give her, and in return, she does the same. Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me down to her as I back her toward the mirrored wall.

A wooden barre runs along the entire length. Usually, it’s where Posie’s students would stand and follow her instructions, but tonight, we’ll be using it for a more alternative reason.

Once her back hits the glass, I rip my mouth away from hers and turn her away from me by her hips. “Hands on the barre,” I order, digging in my jacket pocket for the box I’d brought with me. With it in hand, I tear my jacket off and toss it to the floor.

“What is that?” Posie asks, meeting my gaze in the reflection.

I’m smirking as I take the purple U-shaped vibrator out. One end will be directly on her clit, while the other is working its magic inside her. The elastic of her leotard will keep it in place while she spins around the room. The best part is I’ll be able to adjust the intensity and settings with the small remote control it came with.

“I want to see how well you can dance for me while this is inside you. Let’s see how long you can last before you come.”

“Um…” Her hands flex on the barre with either nerves or excitement. Maybe both.

Dipping my head, I kiss and suck on her neck above where the collar still sits. Every time I see it around her throat, it pleases me, but I’m starting to think it’s time to give her the key. If she still wants to wear it after that, it’s up to her. My reasons for wanting her to wear it have shifted from my original sinister intentions. The collar isn’t the only thing I’m going to need to reevaluate. Her father’s home is a bigger issue that needs my attention.

“Shit,” she sighs, head falling to the side to give me better access to her sensitive skin. “Okay, play with me.”

Music. To. My. Fucking. Ears.

The box falls to the ground, joining my jacket after I’ve put the remote in the back pocket of my jeans.

“Open your mouth,” I instruct, running the soft silicone across her bottom lip. She parts for me, and I push the rounded end in. “Suck. Get it wet for me.”

She keeps eye contact with me through the mirror as her cheeks hollow and her tongue swirls around vibrator. When I’ve deemed she’s done enough, I nod my head and she releases it from her mouth.

“Use one hand to pull your leotard to the side so I can see your cunt.”

She reaches down and pulls the stretchy material as far as she can to the right. It exposes just enough of her that I’ll be able to access what I need to.

Pressing the button on the device, it comes to life, vibrating in my hand. My arm wraps around her trim waist. Her chest rises and falls quicker, anticipation shooting through her as I bring the buzzing silicone closer to her sensitive flesh.

Her sharp intake of breath echoes off the walls of the otherwise silent room at the first brush of contact. Her pelvis jerks forward and then back, like she can’t decide if the sensation is too much or if she wants more of it. I don’t give her the option to decide. Holding her hips in place with my free hand, I force her to remain still when I press it to her clit.

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she tries to fight back moans, and for over a minute, she remains still for me. When she begins to grind against the vibrator, I know she’s exactly where I need her to be. Just on the brink of ecstasy.

Posie whimpers in despair when I lift the vibrator away. “Sorry, baby, but you don’t get to come yet.” My teeth scrape across her neck. Her skin tastes salty from sweat. “Not until I get my dance.”

“Oh, god,” she groans as the realization of how hard this is going to be sets in.

Putting the device on the lowest setting, I turn it around in my hand and position it at her opening. She groans, throwing her head back into my chest when I push it easily inside of her. She’s already so wet, and she’s not going to last long, but that’s alright with me. The sooner she’s overcome and can no longer dance, the sooner I can watch her in all these mirrors as I fuck her.

With it in place, I nudge her hand away and right the crotch of her skintight outfit. The only thing giving away what’s happening between her legs right now is the faint buzzing sound. She stands facing the mirror with a dazed look in her light brown eyes.

Hands skimming down her arms, I back away from her. Across the room, there’s a stack of plastic chairs. Taking the top one off the stack, I position it in the middle of the room and straddle it. Once settled, I take the remote control out of my pocket.

Thumb hovering over the button that increases the vibration, I smirk at her. “Alright, Butterfly, show me how you fly.”