Graphic Read online

  Kindle Edition

  ©Graphic

  ©Dirty Deeds

  Copyright © 2013 Suzanne Steele

  Published by Suzanne Steele

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of Fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales, are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All other characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and not to be construed as real. The author acknowledges the trademark status of various products and locales referenced in this fictional work, which have been used without permission. The use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. All rights reserved. No part of this book can be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Cover photo © Fotolia--Adobe stock photo

  Cover Copyright © Suzanne Steele

  Edited by Patricia Commander Editing

  Cover Design by Book Cover by Design

  Formatting by Suzanne Steele

  Thank you for downloading this e-book.

  Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

  All content herein is protected under copyright law.

  This e-book is Rated 17+

  To the reader

  The men I write about are Alpha males in every sense of the word. They are the men society warns you about. They are dominant males with controlling tendencies. They are the men you know you should stay away from even as

  you are drawn to them like a moth to a flame.

  Each and every character I create has demanded that their voice be heard. I have been true to that calling and I have stayed true to their personalities, which the reader may not always agree with. If you are looking for a sweet romance, you won't find it here. What you will find; however, is dark passion. Often, my heroes carry what would be considered an obsession for the women they love. They are dark, they are gritty, and many times their love is dysfunctional, but nonetheless, it is real.

  Stalk Me…

  Suzanne Steele’s Blog: http://suzannesteelesblog.wordpress.com/

  Suzanne Steele’s Twitter:

  https://twitter.com/Suzanne_Steele_

  Suzanne Steele’s Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/suzannesteele

  Suzanne Steele’s Facebook

  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Suzanne-Steele/160387180790420?ref=hl

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Epilogue

  Introduction to Graphic (Dirty Deeds Episode 2)

  Prologue

  Up until this point in Lydia’s adult life she’d always believed she was the master of her universe. If she did all the right things and followed the rules verbatim, then she’d have some semblance of control. Isn't that what we all want… control? Not the kind of control we can wave around in someone’s face to feel good about having it—she wanted the ability to not have to depend on anyone to pay her way. If she’d learned anything in her lifetime, it’s that he who holds the purse strings has the power.

  She knew the rules. She knew what pitfalls to avoid, and she still ended up fucking up—just like she always did. Lydia was a natural born fuck up.

  Times of desperation have a way of making us do things we said we’d never do. We talk ourselves into crossing lines we never even knew existed. Funny thing is, once we cross that line it becomes the point of no return. The point of no return—that changes us. When she looked in the mirror now, she didn’t know the woman looking back at her.

  Now… rather than worrying about following the rules, she spent her time making sure she wasn’t ashamed of the things she’d done. Lydia was a survivor and survivors do just that… they fucking survive.

  The dim lighting in the one room efficiency apartment did nothing to damper Lydia’s mood as she pulled her Jimmy Choo shoe off of her foot and held it up in the light examining it. Until reality set in.

  No more high dollar heels for you, dumb ass. You should have put some money in the bank instead of worrying about looking good.

  She threw the shoe against the paint chipped wall in an outburst of momentary anger. One thing she didn’t need was anybody else to beat her up, she did a pretty good job of that herself. She bought the shoes at a thrift store and still wanted to stab herself in the eye with the heel of them for spending the money.

  She wasn’t rich… but she was accustomed to living a certain lifestyle—one where she wasn’t worried about spending her last twenty bucks on candles because the electricity got cut off.

  She’d cutback everywhere she could financially. Back to the whole fucking following the rules thing. It didn’t work the first time. Old habits are hard to break. The funny thing about life is its ability to sucker punch you—you come around a corner whistling and out of nowhere you get blindsided.

  I have to admit I do feel like the world’s biggest sucker right now.

  She had a legit job, there were cutbacks, now she was unemployed. It happened so fast, she never saw it coming. Her job was ripped from her hands with no warning. To put it bluntly, she was unemployed, out of money, and desperate. We all know desperate times call for desperate measures. It wasn’t the desperation that was making her crazy, it was the fear. That gut-clenching fear of the past coming back to take over her future. Being this scared and out of control was making her desperate. Being desperate was rapidly ebbing away at her control. A vicious cycle of having to go back into survival mode—for Lydia, that could quickly become dangerous for not only her, but anyone else in close proximity.

  One thing was for sure, it would change her. It always did because Lydia was a chameleon.

  It hasn’t all been bad—I’m a hell of a lot more compassionate to the plight of mankind now. I may as well take something positive out of this cluster-fuck of chaos I call life.

  She needed a job in the worst sort of way. The bills were piling up and now she was looking at losing her shitty apartment. She was on the verge of bankruptcy.

  “When are ya going to face it, girl? You… were born to be a crook. I mean seriously… you’re down to your last good pair of shoes, and you bought those at a thrift store. It’s almost sad to watch you when you have so much potential. When are going to answer destiny’s call?”

  “Thanks, Ginger. I really appreciate the encouragement on going straight. I mean, I’ve been successful for years, so I can see why you think I should just go back to lying and stealing to survive.”

  Ginger situated her tits in the low cut v-neck top she was wearing. She took a moment to check out the guy walking through the high dollar coffee shop. He in turn took a moment to check out her ten-thousand dollar tits. She leaned in whispering, “I told you the high profile implants were the way to go—they’re showstoppers.”

  “Well… we all know you love to put on a show.”

  “Don’t be so fucking ju
dgmental little Miss I’ll steal it if it isn’t nailed down.

  “Stop hissing at me. You always get so defensive.”

  “Well… you always act like stripping…”

  “It isn’t my forte. I’m not being judgmental. Take it all off—grind a pole—I don’t give a shit. Just don’t try to get me to.”

  Ginger reached over turning the outdated laptop Lydia had in front of her around. “Just... whatever”—she waved her best friend off like a pest. “Single male looking for single female for companionship and as personal assistant.” The article was vague with a phone number. “I’ll call him for you. If he wants more than a companion, then maybe I’ll take him. Then I can deal with one asshole a night instead of fifty.”

  Lydia reached over and grabbed the phone from her friend—the panic in her voice evident. “If he’s looking for somebody to fuck…”

  The touch of ginger’s hand and the sincerity in her voice calmed her. “Sweetie, I know.” She laughed in an effort to take the edge off the mood and the panic from her best friend’s demeanor. “Honey if anybody gets hard limits it’s me girl.”

  “Well if anyone can get the truth out of him it should be you.” An eye roll gave witness to the fact she was well acquainted with Ginger’s man magnet abilities.

  Ginger winked as she dialed and covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “Honey, I’ll have this boy eating out of my hand. Hell, I’ll pay your bills for turning me onto him.”

  “Keep it on speaker.” Lydia’s voice came out in a whisper.

  “Donald Fairfax.”

  “Um, I’m calling about the position you have for an assistant… personal assistant?”

  “Meet me at my downtown office.” He whipped off an address in downtown Louisville and hung up.

  “Shit! Shit! Shit! You didn’t find out about the companion part of the job.”

  “Relax. You’re going to a downtown office--”

  “He’s a lawyer, Ginger.”

  “How’d you know that? He never said that.”

  Lydia rubbed her temples in an attempt to ward off the fatigue she was already feeling. “He’s a personal injury lawyer. There’s a hub of them there by the public library.” Lydia smiled when she heard Ginger’s laughter.

  “Hey… maybe that’s why he needs a companion. Nobody likes him because he’s an ambulance chaser.”

  “A girl can only hope. Arm candy… I can do, anything else, and I’m going back to a life of crime. By the way, your snort laugh adds so much to your assessment of lawyer boy’s plight.”

  “You know me… always here when you need a shoulder. And my insight into the male psyche is off the chain.” She blew the tips of her fingers rubbing them against the tight v-neck for effect.”

  “Keep that frame of mind. I’m going to meet lawyer boy. I may need your couch to sleep on.”

  “You do that.” Ginger took a minute to toy with a long red nail as she eyed the suited candy looking at her over a courier journal newspaper. “Yeah… I’ll be right here waiting on your call.”

  Chapter One

  Lydia couldn’t have been happier when she found out Donald really was looking for an assistant and an occasional night out as arm candy. What she couldn’t shake was the need to know why. True… the guy wasn’t much to look at, kind of dorky in a way, with the whole balding, glasses, and the middle aged thing he had going on. But, he was a nice guy.

  Why the fuck don’t you have a woman, Donald? Sitting at her desk eyeing him like it would help her figure him out, that was an innate need to compartmentalize because she was always present. Lydia had a way of taking in every detail of her surroundings. It was one of the reasons she was so damn good at being a thief. With the wall Donald had up she highly doubted it would work, but she’d keep trying anyway. Nobody likes a quitter.

  She’d been here for a week and as of yet he hadn’t laid a hand on her—on her body that is. Her mind… that was a different story. He seemed to enjoy fucking with her head an awful lot. It was like he knew she was attempting to get a read on him. He became more elusive with each passing day.

  It’s just a job. Stop trying to compartmentalize shit so much. The way I figure it, if I do wrap my brain around how he got so good at mind-fucking people, maybe I’ll glean some wisdom on how to toy with people and I can be a self-employed mind-fuck master. It would be great to be the master of my universe once again.

  For the last week her job had been more like a chess match. Her employer enjoyed playing games and she was beginning to think that’s why he’d hired her. Maybe he had a girlfriend he was trying to make jealous.

  He had a way of being manipulative and controlling and it pissed her off to no end. What pissed her off the most was the way he did it. It was like she really couldn’t put her finger on it, because when he did it… he did it so damn good that there was no way to gain proof he was being manipulative.

  She glared in his direction trying to keep her composure.

  “You didn’t inform me I was to be available to you during lunch today, Sir. I had plans with a girlfriend of mine.” The thought of telling Ginger she couldn’t come because her boss wouldn’t let her was humiliating. The son of a bitch knew he had her in a bind—he didn’t just know it, he enjoyed it. Bastard!

  “Lydia”—his voice was demeaning as if he was reprimanding a petulant child or something—“since when do I need to inform you of what I am doing?”

  He was doing it, that thing that he did—that thing of turning it around on her. Manipulative little weasel. You even look like a weasel.

  She subtly breathed in deeply and counted to ten in her head. “Will that be all, Sir?” The words came out much sharper than she intended them to but this guy was beginning to piss her off.

  “No, it will not be all, Lydia. You may leave when I give you permission to leave.”

  His eyes were now addressing her in a matter of fact manner, and it was making her very nervous. I need this job. She squirmed in her seat when the thought of getting fired crossed her mind for the thousandth time. Why do I torment myself like this with negative thinking?

  Finally, when she felt like she could look at him without throwing her thrift store Jimmy Choo at him, she looked up and she could swear she saw a flash of amusement pass over his face. Dick wod.

  “These are the type of things that get you into trouble, Lydia. You work for me. Period, point blank! Do I need to remind you of the things that you agreed to, Lydia? It must be very embarrassing for you having to hire yourself out to a perfect stranger. Need I also remind you I have been nothing but a complete gentleman. You’re my gopher dear, arm candy, nothing more and nothing less.”

  What an asshole. This guy gets off on humiliation. He hasn’t touched me because he probably can’t get it up. Whah, whah, whah, want, whah, whah. He’s beginning to sound like Charlie Brown’s teacher.

  “No, sir. I don’t need to be reminded of anything.” Though I doubt you’ll stop reminding me since you get off on it. I need this job. I need this job. Maybe if she turned it into a mantra she wouldn’t scratch his eyeballs out and get fired. Of course there was always re-selling her used Jimmy Choos.

  Bottom line, this guy was making her feel like a five year old child who was being lectured. She resisted the urge to laugh when the thought of spitting in his coffee came out of nowhere and planted itself in her cerebral cortex. He had that kind of effect on her. How could she argue with him? She agreed to this.

  He’d purposely avoided telling her about lunch, or had he? Paranoia and street sense made her wonder if he overheard her talking about lunch plans and then demanded she accompany him—just because he could. Okay. She hated him—a little more everyday. Damn him. He was doing it again… that whole making her second guess herself thing.

  Chapter Two

  Donald let his mind wander back to the first day he met her. There’d always been something about Lydia that amused him. Knowing she needed the job, knowing he could dangle it in front of her, got him
off. He didn’t care about fucking her—he wanted to fuck with her.

  Maybe it was the fact that his life was so out of control right now that caused the deep seeded issues he had. Maybe… he was taking his idiotic decisions he’d made out on her. Regardless, he might as well had some fun with her—He might not be around much longer. That nasty little gambling addiction had gotten him into some pretty deep trouble. Like everything else in his life—it too was out of control. For now, he’d control her and it would make him feel better.

  She had a childlike quality that in no way negated her femininity. It was evident she’d never answered an ad like his before. He let his mind drift back to their interview the day she stumbled and bumbled her way into his office.

  “I see here that you have some time lapses in your resume.” He only stared harder into her when she flushed red with embarrassment. He knew she was lying when she answered him.

  “Yes, sir, I’ve always wanted to do some writing and I took some time off to begin writing some.”

  “Mmm, a starving artist.”

  He liked playing on people’s insecurities and this girl had her fair share of them. She was emitting a kind of nervous energy and he was the cause of it. He liked it—a lot. While he sat there cool as a cucumber she was breaking out in hives. Every time he looked at her, she looked down. She had to know the normal business man wasn’t going to hire someone who couldn’t even look them in the eye. He could only guess the fact she thought she was being hired to be his companion must be embarrassing for her. One person’s embarrassment was another one’s entertainment. He was very fucking entertained at that moment.

  “Hmmm, a starving artist,” he purposely repeated, intentionally talking like she wasn’t even in the room. It must have pissed her off because he finally got a response.

  “Excuse me?” Her voice came out in a high pitched shriek. Well, well, there was some fire in there—good. That’s exactly what he was looking for—someone to bully.

  “Sit! Now!” he commanded her when she got up to leave. “How do you ever expect to get a job when you act like a defensive child?” He eyed her then crimson red neck. He wasn’t sure if it was anger or embarrassment, didn’t matter. It was a reaction. Yes, she would do quite nicely. She wasn’t too hard on the eyes either. He knew he was going to hire her that day, but he sent her on her way. The hiring and firing would be done in his timing and in the way that he saw fit…