Page 57 of Tales You Win (Grim & Beast Duet 1)

“Kate, listen to me,” he begins.

“Just get me out of here.”

“What?”

“I said get me out of here. I don’t want to go inside. Just take me somewhere, anywhere away from here,” I reply, unclipping my seatbelt and leaning over to pull the door shut. I fall back in my seat, feeling the heat of Beast’s gaze on me. Out of the corner of my eye I can see he’s twisted in his seat and is staring heatedly at me. “What?”

“Your dress,” he replies, his gaze snapping up when I look at him.

“What about it?” I let out a heavy sigh. “What’s so fucking wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just—”

“What?!” I snap, glaring at him.

“I can see your…” He gulps, twisting in his seat and facing forward, stepping on the gas as he drives us back down the driveway and onto the main road. “Fuck.”

A slow heat creeps over my skin as my gaze slowly drops to my lap. My dress has ridden up and the thigh slit has shifted to reveal my neatly trimmed pussy. “Shit!” I exclaim, pulling the material down, my whole body aflame as I rest my head back against the headrest and press my palms over my face. I hadn’t worn any underwear to provoke Beast. I’d done it on purpose, to get his attention, but now that I have it, it doesn’t feel half as good as I hoped it would. I’m exactly what my dad accused me of being.

“He was right. How can anyone take me seriously when I’m dressed like a whore?”

“The fuck you say?” Beast growls, stepping on the brake for the second time tonight.

“You heard me,” I reply, pulling my seatbelt around me and clicking it into place. Despite my humiliation, I don’t want to die because I wasn’t smart enough to put a seatbelt on.

“That’s bullshit! Don’t ever let me hear you speak about yourself like that again. Got me?”

“Why? It’s true.”

“The fuck it is,” he snaps, hitting the gas again and speeding off down the road. I’ve no idea where he’s taking me, but I don’t question it. Instead, I stare out of the window as silence descends between us. This is the most vulnerable I’ve ever been and I hate it. I’m not this girl who lets shit get to her, who feels sorry for herself. Yet, here I am doing exactly that.

“Firstly, you ain’t dressed like a whore, you’re a perfect fucking vision of beautyandbadassery,” Beast suddenly says a few minutes of awkward silence later. My gaze snaps to him as he concentrates on the road ahead. I can’t help but notice how that muscle in his jaw jumps as he grits his teeth. “Secondly, and for the motherfucking record, what you wear should never have any bearing on your value or your worth. None. Thirdly, and most importantly, the way you handled yourself tonight was nothing less than regal. You’re a fuckingQueen.”

I scoff. “If that were true then why did you ask me to wear something else, Beast? Admit it, you thought the exact same thing.”

“You’ve no idea what I was thinking.”

“Whatever you say,” I retort bitterly.

“I mean it, Princess. You don’t know shit.”

“I know enough.”

Beast doesn’t reply. He doesn’t say another word until we pull up outside a large white house on a tree-lined suburban street twenty minutes later. It has four floors, and a big green door with several doorbells indicating the house is split into flats. I can see a woman talking on a telephone through one of the windows on the fourth floor, and a soft pink glow from a window on the first. Putting the car in park, Beast kills the engine, turning around to face me.

“Well, here we are.”

“Where’s here exactly?”

“My place.”

“Yourplace?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, where did you think I’d take you?”

“To a bar or a club. I was hoping to get drunk.”

“Exactly.”

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