Stolen Melody Page 2

  She set the empty glass back on the tray. He took it.

  “I’ll get you more,” he signed to her.

  Mel made a grab for his belt. He paused.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Beast.”

  For a second, she thought she misunderstood him or maybe he didn’t know how to sign his name, but he repeated it a second time, in words. She looked at the mass of scar tissue on the side of his neck now and understood. His vocal cords had been damaged in some way in the past. That explained why he seemed to hate talking. Maybe she could get Beast to tell her his story one day.

  “That’s not your real name,” she accused.

  “It’s who I am.” Beast shrugged his big shoulders and left the room.

  He didn’t need to tie her up. Mel wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. She had nowhere to go. Maybe Beast knew that as well. Perhaps that was why he decided to take her with him. The thought strangely didn’t frighten her, but it should.

  She looked at the meal he made for her. A simple ham and cheese sandwich. Her stomach rumbled. Mel finished scarfing it all down just as he returned and handed her another glass of water. She downed that as well.

  “Still hungry?” he asked her.

  She shook her head and finally asked him the question she’d been dying to ask. “Are they gone?”

  Beast regarded her for a couple of moments then nodded.

  “All of them?” Her fingers shook as she signed but it seemed he understood.

  His eyes seemed to darken, the shade closer to an angry storm. Rage reflected back at her from that feral, scarred-up face that initially scared her but not anymore. Mel didn’t understand it herself but she knew this man, this monster, would never hurt her.

  “Good.”

  Chapter Three

  “Good,” the woman signed again.

  Beast curved his lips upward, to what had to pass for a smile. If she could talk, he imagined she’d sound vindictive. So fucking hot. He liked an angry woman.

  “I wish I could’ve made them scream before they died,” he said.

  She shook her head. “You’ve done enough, more than anyone could ask for. I don’t know how long I was there. It felt like an eternity. I prayed for help a million times but no one came. I thought I was going to die there.”

  “You didn’t. You’re here now and you’re safe. No one will ever touch you again.”

  Beast was treated to the sight of her smiling. Despite the horrors she’d braved, the fact she could smile was a bloody miracle. When Beast chanced upon her, he thought she was fragile. Broken, not breakable, because that implied there were still parts of her that were whole. Beast was wrong in so many ways.

  This woman, formally a broken toy, possessed a hidden strength, a fire in her that could even impress a monster like him.

  She placed her hand against his. It looked so small, like a child’s hand compared to his, but he felt the warmth there. She leaned into his touch, just like a needy kitten, and for a moment, his breathing slowed.

  Beast didn’t deserve even a taste of her kindness, her gentleness, and yet he was lapping it all up like an abused stray so starved for affection.

  “You haven’t told me your name yet,” he told her, setting her hand down before he did something he’d come to regret.

  Her name. What if she couldn’t sign her name?

  Realizing what an idiot he was, he walked out of the room, grabbed a pad of paper and a pen from his desk, and returned to her. For a second, Beast was worried she’d suddenly disappear. That she’d suddenly bolt out of the room, grab his truck keys, and start running, but she was still there. She’d set the tray aside to the small table next to the bed and was standing again, running her fingers over the spines of his books.

  She looked like a vision, standing there on tiptoe, wearing only his shirt. He caught a flash of her smooth, perfect ass, her flat belly, her thighs, and a hint of pink under her golden pubic hair. Her pussy. He could feel his dick getting hard under his jeans. An inappropriate reaction. Fuck.

  She was still hurting. Not from her injuries—Beast had already taken care of that. She’d heal up just fine but some scars remained. Beast should know.

  He let out an impatient growl. Impossible, stubborn woman. She turned, blinking those wide blue eyes at him. He could tell he’d startled her, but something was different. An absence of fear. That stunned him a little because every person he encountered took one look at him and only saw a terrifying monster.

  He thrust the notepad and pen toward her.

  She accepted them and wrote something on the paper.

  Melody.

  How ironic. What kind of parents would give their mute kid a name like that? Beast signed that question to her.

  “My mother had a great voice. She wanted to be a country singer. She thought she’d pass her talent to me,” she signed. “She gave me that name when I was born, not realizing I couldn’t speak.”

  A bitter scream rattled from her throat. Not a pretty sound, but who was Beast to judge? What he hated was the sadness in her eyes. He cupped her cheek, touching the smooth silk of her flesh. She was healing nicely. Pretty soon, her skin would be creamy smooth again, but she’d have souvenirs of her time with Cheklov and his men until the day she died.

  Never before did Beast experience such intense hatred for someone as he did now. Rage bubbled inside of him, threatening to spill out. Beast killed for money, without remorse or hesitation. Hunt or be hunted, that was the only valuable lesson his old man left him. Beast prided himself on being a professional but at that moment, he understood the sweet taste of vengeance. He left that warehouse full of corpses, but he still had one more target.

  Cheklov needed to die and Beast would make sure he’d leave this earth a screaming, broken carcass of a man.

  Melody set the notepad and pen down. She approached him and touched his arm, waking him from his revenge fantasies. Beast didn’t need a mirror to know how he must look, like a monster with the lines of his face all twisted in anger. She didn’t seem spooked. He said nothing as she touched his rough cheek.

  “You’re angry,” she signed.

  “Not at you. Never you,” he whispered.

  “Then who?”

  Beast thought she knew the answer to her own question but he didn’t tell her about his plans for her old captor yet. Maybe never, because Beast had no intentions of letting her go. Did that make him a monster even worse than Cheklov? It didn’t matter. He didn’t care. If he released her out into the wild again, she’d be out of his reach. He wouldn’t be able to protect her.

  He placed his hand over hers and gently pried it away from his cheek. So soft, he thought. So fragile. She deserved a white knight but all she got was him. Too bad.

  To his surprise, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Shock rippled through his entire body. He’d paid for whores, had lost himself in one-night stands, but no woman had ever voluntarily kissed him. They didn’t dare. Most of them were too terrified of him and only saw him as a challenge, a conquest.

  The kiss was quick, but it was enough. Melody tasted sweet, like honey. He bet her pussy would taste the same. Nectar. He took it as an invitation. Beast gripped the back of her neck and took her mouth. He didn’t hold back, plundering her soft full lips.

  He would’ve retreated if she fought back, if she pushed him off and tried to come up with another plan, but Melody didn’t. She gripped his shoulder and yielded to the force of his mouth. She was bent, but not broken. Cheklov hadn’t managed to steal all the life and spirit out of her and that amazed him.

  She even parted her lips for him, and he took his fill of her. Beast thrust his tongue down her throat. His dick rubbed against the zipper of his jeans, begging for release. He wanted to lay her back down on the bed. Show her how a real man should act.

  He’d be someone she deserved. He’d own her and make her addicted to the taste of his cock so she’d want no one else but him. Beast withdrew from the kis
s. He’d nipped at her lower lip and had drawn a little blood.

  He put some distance between them, breathing harshly.

  “What’s wrong?” She looked up at him with those big and innocent eyes.

  This felt wrong. An angel like her shouldn’t be looking at him that way. Maybe she was drawn to him because he’d saved her from hell. Perhaps she wanted to be grateful. That didn’t mean she wanted him for who he was. Did it matter? Why was his conscience speaking up now of all times when it had been silent most of his life?

  Fuck, but this woman was dangerous. Beast was dead inside. He prided himself on that fact because being emotionless made him an effective killer. Melody hadn’t been here for long and she was affecting him so easily.

  Beast had already decided she’d be his. He found her and took her. Now, she belonged to him whether she liked it or not.

  “You need your rest.” Beast jerked his head to the bed. “Sleep.”

  “Where will you be?”

  “Outside. I’ll sleep on the couch.” Beast knew he’d put her in danger if he remained any longer in this room. He couldn’t imagine what she’d been through. She needed space and time to heal, not a monster hovering over her constantly. Melody needed to learn she wasn’t safe with him.

  He turned his back on her, hiding his erection from her. Beast could already see himself throwing her back on the bed, peeling her legs open, and pushing his face between her legs. He could help her forget her time with Cheklov. He’d make her moan and scream out his name.

  Melody grabbed his arm and he looked at her. A mistake. She bit her lower lip and must’ve seen something on his face because she let go of his arm. She didn’t back away from him and stood her ground, her hand a flurry of movements.

  It took him a few seconds to realize what she was saying.

  “Stay here with me. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re nearby.”

  “We’re in the middle of nowhere. No one knows about this location. Cheklov can’t touch you.”

  She shook her head. “Please.”

  Beast let out a breath. “Fine. I need to take care of a few things around the cabin but I’ll return here. Okay?”

  “Thank you.” She rose on tiptoe, left a kiss on his cheek, and padded back to bed, like she wanted to show him what a good girl she was.

  Beast stared at her for a few moments. It was hard to believe she was real, that any woman was capable of pulling his strings so easily the way she did. He left the door open. Beast didn’t look back. He was a little scared, certain if he looked over his shoulder, Melody would turn out to be a figment of his imagination.

  Chapter Four

  Mel didn’t care for sleep. She understood her body needed rest, that she was still weak, but closing her eyes meant falling back into the realm of nightmares. That was the last thing she needed. She could sometimes hear Beast moving around the cabin and the reminder of his presence gave her a measure of reassurance.

  She touched her lips, remembering the fiery kiss they’d shared. Mel wanted him to kiss her again. For those few precious moments, her mind blanked out. She forgot what happened to her over the past few months.

  Mel could be going crazy. She didn’t mean to kiss him, but he’d looked so lost, so angry she’d wanted to chase all those emotions away. The way he looked at her, God. It was so intense. She should be terrified of a man like Beast but she’d known from the start he wasn’t like Cheklov or his men. Beast was different. Special. He spoke her language. He understood her in ways no one else could.

  He told her she’d be safe here, that they were in the middle of God knew where. Should Mel be scared she was cut off from anyone else? Not like her absence would be missed. Someone must’ve already taken over her old job and her old apartment. She had no real friends and her mother—well, she was probably too busy with her new husband.

  Mel sat up and drew her knees to her chest. Her entire life, she always felt this way, isolated from the rest of the world. She’d been made fun of her entire life, endured insults and jokes from everyone who thought she was both deaf and mute. She could still read lips, hear insults.

  If she closed her eyes, she’d be back in that awful storeroom, chained up like an animal. She bet she made for a convenient captive. Someone who couldn’t even scream for help would be easy upkeep. If Beast hadn’t arrived, she’d end up in the garbage bin. They were getting sick of her and had been talking about getting a new girl, another of Cheklov’s seconds.

  Mel slapped her cheeks. She should stop feeling sorry for herself. Where would that get her? The pain felt good. A reminder this was all real. Beast had saved her and had gotten her out of there. She thought she’d been ready to die, to give in to the pain and darkness, but she was wrong.

  Sensing she was no longer alone, Mel looked up and saw him standing right outside her door. He gripped the doorframe hard, like he was telling himself not to enter the room. Beast looked like he’d just gotten out of the shower. Droplets of water still clung to his bare chest, arms, and shoulders. He wore worn-in, low-slung jeans and nothing else.

  Mel cleared her throat. She imagined herself walking up to him, running her fingers down that stony chest. There were so many places to explore. Beast’s body looked like a road map. Would he get mad if she wanted to touch his scars, his tattoos?

  “I’m not poisonous or dangerous,” she signed.

  “This is for your own good. I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.”

  “For my own good?”

  He narrowed his eyes, and under the late-afternoon sun, he looked feral. Savage. A shudder ran down her spine. She felt equal parts excited and just the tiniest afraid of him. Beast could be her captor. Her experience with Cheklov and his men taught her the world was a fucked-up place. Monsters were real and yet, she wouldn’t mind if Beast kept her.

  Cheklov hadn’t wasted any time in asserting his dominance over her, in tearing her apart piece by piece. Beast, in contrast, treated her with nothing but kindness. She knew he was a dangerous man, someone any logical person wouldn’t want to tangle with, but he was all she had.

  “If I told you all the dirty things I want to do to you, you’ll run from me screaming.”

  Mel realized she’d been clutching at the sheets. She let go. She’d been the one who’d asked if he could stay with her. She wasn’t ready to ask him what he meant and had an inkling she knew what he wanted from her. A large part of her wanted it, him, too. It was obvious in the way her body responded to him. She could feel her tits hardening under her shirt. If he pushed the sheets aside and touched her between her legs, he’d find her pussy wet.

  Just thinking of Beast doing that made her blush. She pushed those thoughts aside.

  “What I’m asking for, is it too much?” she asked him.

  He nodded, his intense gaze never leaving hers. Mel noticed he kept his eyes trained on her face. Did the rest of her distract him? Somehow, the thought her body having that effect on him pleased her. Cheklov saw her as a faceless toy, something to be used and discarded, but Beast?

  He saw her differently, like she was something special. Like she still had worth.

  “I’m scared.” She took a deep breath and continued to sign. “I know if I close my eyes, I’ll be back in that storeroom, under their mercy.”

  Beast stepped inside the room but stopped at the foot of the bed. “I’ll be your silent guardian. Sleep, Melody. Nothing will touch you.”

  She looked from him then to the chair next to the bed. Beast sighed and sat right next to the bed. He sat so stiffly, seemed so uncomfortable, she couldn’t help but laugh. He frowned at her.

  “I’m not going to bite.”

  “I will,” he signed back.

  That stumped her a little. Mel imagined him putting his mouth to her left breast, sucking on a nipple. She shivered, surprised when he reached over and pulled the sheet up her body.

  “Cold?” he asked her.

  She shook her head. “You don’t need to sit there all night.
The bed’s big enough for the two of us.”

  Beast growled at her. “Don’t tempt me.”

  She leaned back against the pillows and decided not to try her luck again. Mel closed her eyes, certain her demons wouldn’t visit her tonight.

  ****

  Beast leaned his forehead against the bathroom tiles and shut his eyes. Three days. He had Melody for thirty-six hours and not once did she ask him if he could set her free. Beast curled his fingers over his cock and began to get himself off. Slow strokes. Fast ones. He pictured Melody’s pretty lips wrapped around his meaty dick. Beast bet she’d look perfect on her knees, naked, her breasts rubbing against the denim of his jeans while she blew him off.

  He grunted, unsure how long he could keep his sanity, his control intact. Night after night, he watched her go to sleep. His presence didn’t seem to frighten her one bit. Last night, he left her for a couple of hours to check his traps around the property. When he returned to his spot, he found her tossing and turning. Only when he slid in bed with her and held her close did she stop trembling.

  Melody’s body felt like a perfect fit against his. She’d wear what she always did to bed—one of his shirts and nothing else. Too easy to slip his prick between her ass cheeks and right into her sopping pussy. Beast bet she’d be wet for him. Her nipples always perked up whenever he was around.

  She wanted him as much as he did. That was clear enough.

  Beast’s breaths came short. He gritted his teeth as his climax built. One tug at his dick had him coming. He sprayed the wall with his jizz as the fantasy of him fucking Melody played out in his head. Someone gasped and he opened his eyes, seeing Melody by the door, staring at him.

  How long had she been watching him? If he told her he’d been masturbating every single morning for the last three days, would that spook her?

  “Get out.” Beast hated how his rough voice echoed through the bathroom walls.

  She lowered her gaze for a moment, nodded, and then left him to finish his shower, shutting the door behind her.

  Beast silently cursed himself. He slammed one fist into the wall. She had never seemed scared of him until that moment. What was this woman doing to him? Beast killed for profit. He worked for drug lords and mob bosses, made his own rules. If he wanted something, he took it. No questions asked and yet with her, he was cautious. A careful hunter as opposed to a greedy one.