Dirty Secrets

by Landish, Lauren

  In this instant, I can see a future where this woman will give me everything I demand, to be my one and true queen, equal, partner, Yin to my Yang . . . and still somehow surprise me.

  I push back from her and get up, my cock straining my pants to her delighted notice as I remove my tie, letting my voice drop lower.

  “Turn around and bend over, Allison.”

  She hops from the desk, spinning around and bending forward. My flexible girl grabs her ankles, her ass presented high in the air.

  I push her skirt up to encircle her waist and rip the silky panties down her legs, leaving them bunched around her knees. I stay back, enjoying the view for a moment before touching her, running my fingertips over her outer hip, my cock throbbing as she shivers.

  “Dominick . . .”

  I place a steadying hand on her lower back. “Allison. Rule number one.”

  I smack her right cheek hard, instantly pinking it before caressing it, the heat mixed with the soothing gentleness that makes her cry out in want and desire.

  “Be where I’m supposed to be. Check in if it changes.”

  I pause and whisper roughly, “Why?”

  She turns to look at me, her eyes flashing with acceptance. “To keep me safe.”

  It’s good enough, a superficial understanding of the deeper truth. I spank her twice more before caressing her again, my fingers brushing lower to the wet dampness of her center.

  “Rule number two. Tell me.”

  Her answer is instant, eager this time. “Keep my phone with me.”

  My hand stills and I repeat my question. “Why?”

  She sobs ever so softly, her voice ragged as I trace her pussy lips. “Care . . . because you care.”

  Ah, closer to the truth. My girl is insightful.

  I give her three smacks. Each blow is exciting, demanding, and painful. I never, ever will cause her real pain, but at the same time, this mock pain is electric to us both.

  “Rule number three.”

  She pauses, and I can see her mind working, making me wonder what her concern is with the rule.

  Finally, she simply says, “Trust you.”

  My breath is taken away at the honesty in her words. I’d expected her to robotically quote back what I’d said, but she boiled it down to the real meaning behind the words.

  She’s right.

  Rule three is simply . . . trust.

  I lean down, laying a gentle kiss to her heated skin, and she shivers as I ask once more, “Why?”

  “Because I’m yours,” she whispers, trembling.

  And that’s it, the deepest truth we have revealed yet. I know there will be more, both ugly and pretty, but I have to hold back, even as I demand her all.

  She’s not ready for me, not entirely, but she will be.

  I can’t allow myself to even entertain any other possibility.

  Her knees give out, and she sinks down to the carpet, coyly looking over her shoulder at me.

  “Do you remember what else you said that night?” Her flirty smile doesn’t let me search for the words she wants, so she answers her own question. “Reward and punishment.”

  I bite my lip to stop from smirking, knowing exactly what she wants, and instead, I have to force venom into my words. “And do you think you deserve a reward after scaring the fuck out of me?”

  She shakes her head, her ass moving hypnotically in time with her swishing hair. “No, but I think you deserve one.”

  I can’t hold back my smirk any longer as I nod, unbuckling my pants and letting them fall before pulling my hard cock from my boxer briefs. She turns and crawls two steps to get closer, her ass settling on her heels and her eyes locked on mine as she takes me in her hand.

  I’m throbbing, aching to feel her touch as her silky soft palm grips me surely, stroking up and down. She leans in, pressing a kiss to my crown and then swirling her tongue around my slit to taste my precum.

  “Mmm . . . you’re delicious, Dominick.”

  “Go ahead, Allie,” I whisper, watching her. “Suck me down your throat. Give me my reward.”

  Her lips stretch wide around my girth, and I know she’s having a hard time taking all of me, but she works at it, coating me in saliva and relaxing into the up and down bobbing of her head.

  Deeper and deeper with every thrust, I let her lead until she guides me to her throat, gagging ever so slightly. She seems to take it as a personal failure and doubles down, going faster and deeper, fighting the impulse to stop for breath.

  She’s driving me mad, but I want even more of her. “Do you trust me, Allison?”

  The look in her eyes tells me more than any words ever could, but she still tries, humming her answer against my skin. I spread my legs wider, taking a solid stance, and twist my fingers into her hair, forcing her head still and holding her under my control.

  I pull back, letting her breathe, and she gasps and puts her hands behind her back. “Take me.”

  I growl lightly as I start to fuck her mouth, pounding hard and fast, much rougher than she was able to suck me. She gags as I press into her throat, her eyes watering, and I watch carefully to see if she’s had enough. But she bravely takes it all as lust shines in her eyes, increasing even as tears start to trickle down her cheeks. I know not to stop though, as her tongue doesn’t try to push me out but instead swirls and takes me, pulling me in deeper.

  And she’s never looked lovelier.

  Amid the symphony of her moans and choking, I grunt, talking her through it all. “That’s a good girl, Allie. Take me and I’ll give you a reward too. You’re going to swallow every drop of my cum.”

  Her eyes beg, as hungry for her reward as I am to give it. I tilt her head back slightly, letting her throat open more, and use my grip on her head to help move her against me, taking her for my own pleasure.

  I see her hips squirm, and I know she wants to have release, but she’s such a good girl, her hands still clenched behind her back.

  “Hmm, so good of you. If I were cruel, I’d leave you on the edge so you remember the rules. Should I?”

  She whimpers against me, and I shake my head, smiling down at her. “I want you to come, Allie. Come with my cock down your throat and your fingers buried in your pussy. Reward us both.”

  Permission granted, her hand almost flies between her legs as she buries her fingers deep in her pussy. Her moans become more desperate as I slam into her mouth, my balls resting on her chin as she swallows. The caress of her throat sends me over, and I hold her there, nose buried against me as I give her jet after jet of my cum.

  She swallows it all down before she moans helplessly around her mouthful of my creamy cock, her orgasm ripping through her so quickly it startles us both, her body jerking and shuddering against me.

  I pull back slowly, letting her lick every droplet from my skin, sucking and nuzzling my softening cockhead before she withdraws her hand from her pussy.

  “Give it to me,” I command, holding out my hand for her fingers. She rises to her knees, reaching up as I bend down slightly, sucking her slick fingers into my mouth and cleaning her until there’s nothing but her normal sublime taste on my tongue.

  Letting her go, I help her up before we readjust our clothes. Sitting down in my chair, I gather her in my arms, holding her and somehow feeling like we just survived our first gauntlet. The bit I’ve revealed could’ve easily been too much for her.

  She’d be well within her rights, and her right mind, to run screaming from me now, while there’s still a small chance I’d let her go. Instead, she presses her cheek to my chest, holding me tightly.

  “So, about rule one.”

  I can’t help it. I can hear her teasing tone, but I still growl. “Non-negotiable.”

  I can feel her smile against me, and she runs a hand through my hair. “Chill out, I’m not arguing. I’m giving notice. TJ is coming over for dinner tonight. You’re coming too. You are two of the most important men in my life, and you definitely got off to a bad start,
so I’m calling a do-over. Tonight.”

  I have work tonight, nothing special, just schmoozing around the club and keeping an eye on things. But that can wait until later.

  “Fine. What time?”

  She hops out of my lap, making me regret it for a moment, but she’s so excited that I smile along with her as she squeals. “Really? I thought that was going to be a harder sell! I mean . . . yeah, you’re coming to dinner. It’s non-optional.”

  She dropped her voice there at the end in an imitation of my normal gravely growl. “I’m not that bad.”

  “So you say,” she taunts before humming. “How about seven thirty?”

  I kiss her forehead, pleased. More than enough time. “And this afternoon? Do you need an escort anywhere?”

  She starts to shake her head no and then reconsiders and sighs. “Yes, I’m going to the grocery store and then home. This is going to take some getting used to. What if I just want to run out and get ice cream at midnight? Am I going to have to wait for Logan or Gavin or whoever to get there just so I can go to the store?”

  I smirk, shaking my head. “First, you don’t like ice cream. Second, you could call a delivery service. Third, if you must get out, then yes, you’d wait for an escort. Most of the time, though, someone would be there within five minutes. Clear?”

  She doesn’t like it, but I can tell she’s trying her best. “Yeah, yeah . . . understood. But it’s weird. And overkill. Do you get escorted everywhere?”

  “When I need it, yes.”

  We agreed on transparency, but I’m already holding back from her. Baby steps, I tell myself. She thinks an escort is too much, though she didn’t balk at the tracking that much.

  But the sheer depth of my obsession? Cameras and the apartments?

  Weird? More like criminal.

  But that’s who I am. That’s my life.

  She’ll adjust, little by little, one baby step at a time.

  Chapter 15

  Allie

  Dinner is not going well. I’d planned everything as well as I could, setting the coffee table with a tablecloth and candles, even giving the floor pillows a fresh fluff so we’d be comfortable sitting on them.

  Not the usual dinner party set-up, but when my dining room is more dance studio, it’s what I’ve got.

  Maybe I’d been stupid to think getting the two of them together under better circumstances would make the introductions friendlier, the conversation politer, the air more welcoming.

  Nope. Not with these two, apparently. I guess maybe it’s asking for a bit too much, too fast, considering the start.

  It’s been a tense hour of interrogation-style questions, dismissive answers, and barely-contained dick measuring as TJ tries to intimidate Dominick with some version of big brother protectiveness. It might work with another man, but not with Dom.

  I try to stop my near-constant eye rolls. I’m no expert, but TJ’s antics are clearly telling more about himself than anything he’s gleaning from Dominick. I could have told him it was a waste of time. Dom’s spent years hiding himself behind a mask.

  And we’ve barely started the main course. I take a bite of my chicken parmigiana, thinking for the third time that I should’ve made something less time-intensive that I could just shove in their mouths to keep them quiet.

  Speaking of . . . “More bread?” I ask, offering the breadsticks and crossing my fingers under the table that TJ might eat a whole stick of garlicky goodness in one go. Because if he keeps this up, I’m going to be stuffing one in his ear. “Teej?”

  His crooked eyebrow tells me he knows what I’m trying to do, but he takes one anyway, taking a bite and talking around the mouthful with a look that tells me, Take that.

  “So, you own a strip club?” TJ somehow manages to sneer the words without losing a crumb of breadstick.

  Dom’s eyes flick to me, wondering how much I’ve told him.

  I glare back, telling him wordlessly, Of course, I didn’t tell him. I’m not stupid. That’s not my story to tell, and not one I’d share without permission. And a shot of something strong to give me courage.

  Dominick’s attention returns to TJ. “Yes, I own several businesses, one of which is a club.”

  “A strip club,” TJ says with scorn. TJ is trying to make the club sound seedy and disgusting, and by his ownership, painting Dominick with the same brush. But his disdain for the club stabs at me like a knife, hot betrayal burning through me. I set my fork down with a clatter.

  Both men turn to me at the sharp sound, and TJ immediately reads the anger in my eyes. He grimaces, and his shoulders slump a little. “Shit. Allie-gator, I didn’t mean it like that.”

  Once upon a time, I would’ve wilted and just forgiven him, but this is something I’ve had to deal with over and over again, finding strength I didn’t know I had, to handle other people’s misconceptions. I swing my legs around, getting up onto my knees and squaring my shoulders, strong and proud as I stare at my brother.

  “Bullshit. You meant it just like that, trying to say that Dom’s some sleazy guy who owns a sketchy club full of whores. That’s what you implied. But while you were busy insulting him, you forgot . . . I fucking work there.”

  He cringes at my words, but also my volume, which has increased as I verbally slay him. “Allie—”

  “I’m not defending Dominick—he doesn’t need me to do that—but defending myself and my friends. The girls there at Petals, they’re good people who work hard. I don’t need you sitting at my dinner table insulting them or me.”

  TJ reaches for my hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, truly. I know you’re an amazing dancer and a good person. I just . . .” He shakes his head, trying to put his thoughts together. Finally, he speaks, his voice quiet. “I just didn’t think this was where you were headed. You’re a stripper, dating your boss. You’ve gotta see how I could want more than that for you.”

  I squeeze his hand, understanding that he’s coming from a place of good intentions but going about it all wrong. He doesn’t understand . . . yet. But that doesn’t mean his verbal barbs hurt any less. Part of me wants to rage back. How dare he insult me like that? “The truth is, you’re right. I am a stripper, dating my boss. It just doesn’t mean what you think it does. It’s so much more than you realize. And I am more than you think I am . . . stronger, happier, healthier than you’ve probably ever known me to be. You just can’t see it. And that makes me sad, not angry.”

  Dominick has been quiet during our exchange. I appreciate that he let me handle it on my own, seeing that this was something I needed to do myself.

  But I know he’s analyzing every word and expression and takes his time before he finally speaks. “TJ, when was the last time you saw Allison dance?”

  TJ flushes nearly a deep purple, in either embarrassment or anger or some combination of the two, I can’t really tell. “I don’t want to see her like that.”

  Dominick sighs slightly, and I’m glad he’s patient. “Not at my club. That I can understand. But anywhere. What about watching her do ballet?”

  TJ’s mouth snaps closed, and I don’t think Dominick realizes just how much of a ‘punch’ he just landed on TJ. “Oh, it’s been a while, I guess. I’ve been gone and it was always kind of her thing.”

  He looks at me, both of us thinking back through the years and various recitals my family came to. TJ would whine about it beforehand, like brothers do, I suppose, but he was always the loudest clapper, cheering me with enthusiasm.

  “Probably three or four years ago. Right before I joined the service.”

  Dominick hums and looks at me with so much intensity in his eyes that I feel my pulse start to race with each passing second. “She is beauty in motion on the stage, both at the club, where she brings more grace and elegance than the clientele probably deserves, and in her ballet performances. The public performance she had of The Nutcracker . . . she brought the house down. She is still your little sister, the sweet ballerina who needed her br
other’s protection and support. But she is also a fierce woman who stakes her territory on the Petals stage, needs permission from no one to be her best self, and quite frankly, I’m honored to call her my woman.”

  His sweetly expressive words turn hard, challenging as he stares at TJ, who’s shrinking by the second. “Allison also happens to work her ass off on the pole, on the barre, and in life. She deserves a family who supports her in that, not one that makes her feel ‘less than’ because of the choices she’s made.”

  TJ nods, suitably chastised, but my heart’s soaring in my chest at Dominick’s words. I’ve seen him be rough, handling business like a monster, and dirty, bending me over his knee, but this is my favorite Dominick. The one who wields his usage of words even better than his control over the city.

  That’s his true power, the brilliance of his mind. And it’s sexy as fuck. I grin, both at the irony of my foul language compared to Dom’s and from the joy springing from inside to shine on my face.

  “I didn’t know you came to see my Nutcracker performance.”

  Dominick’s look is pure smoldering desire, devotion, and a demonstration of the man he is. “An opportunity to see you do what you love is a gift I would not waste.”

  Swoon. I think I literally wobble a bit, lightheadedly giddy and on the verge of jumping into his lap. But we’re not alone, and the air is only recently cleared, so I somehow restrain myself. But it’s hard. So fucking hard. I wonder if he is?

  For a moment, I have a mental flash of him ripping the pink leotard I like to wear for personal practice off my body and slamming into me as I stretch, one leg up and the other out, fully open to his vicious hammering. I know one thing . . . I’d love every second of it.

  At the sound of a throat clearing, I mentally return to the present moment to see Dominick looking rather amused and TJ rolling his eyes, although mostly good-naturedly now.

  “Oh, uh, thank you,” I tell Dominick.