A Million Dirty Secrets: The Million Dollar Duet Part One

by C. L. Parker

  “Lanie, sweetie. What’s wrong?” Mack’s tired voice sent a pang of guilt through me, and I wanted to cry.

  “Nothing’s wrong. Can’t I just call my parents to check in?” I asked, trying to sound irritated, in an attempt to keep the sadness out of my voice.

  “Er, yeah, of course you can. How’s the Big Apple treating you?”

  “Fine. My classes are intense, and one of my professors is a gigantic bastard,” I answered, only slightly lying. Okay, so I was doing some serious lying, but technically, there really was someone in authority over me who was educating me. Just not the sort of education my parents thought I would be getting.

  “Yeah, well, keep your nose to the grindstone and stay away from all those frat parties and you’ll do fine, kiddo.”

  “Mack, you sound tired. Are you getting any rest at all?”

  “I get enough.” He sighed, used to hearing me nag him about his own health. “She needs me, ya know?”

  “Yeah, I do. How is she?” I asked in a more somber tone.

  “Mom’s hanging in there. She’s awake if you want to talk to her. It might actually make her feel better. In fact, she’s got some good news for you.”

  “Yeah, I’d love to hear her voice.” He didn’t need to know just how true it was.

  I could hear him saying something in the background and then the shuffling of bedcovers as he handed her the phone.

  “Lanie? Is that you, baby?” My mother’s voice sounded weak.

  “It’s me, Mom. How are you?” I choked out.

  “Meh, I’m not so bad,” she laughed lightly. “Hey, I’ve got good news. An anonymous donor deposited a huge sum of money into our bank account. Can you believe it? Mack says it’s a scam, but I think it’s an answer to our prayers.”

  “Oh, wow! That’s great, Mom,” I said, genuinely happy that I’d brought her a little bit of sunshine when all her days had been filled with gloom.

  She started a coughing fit, and Mack had to take the phone away from her, but not before she managed to cough out, “I love you, baby.”

  “Is she okay?” I asked my dad, concerned.

  “She’s fine. Those fits hit her sometimes when she tries to talk too much.”

  “So, good news about the money, huh? Do me a favor and don’t try to overanalyze it or anything,” I said. “She needs that money. I don’t care where it came from. When is she scheduled for surgery?”

  “That’s the thing, Lanie.” I heard a door close in the background and assumed he had left the room, not wanting her to hear the rest of our conversation. “Having the money is great, but it doesn’t do a damn bit of good if she doesn’t have a donor. There are so many people ahead of her … I don’t know if it will be in time.”

  My God! That thought had never even occurred to me.

  “Don’t worry, Dad. Miracles have a way of happening when we least expect them.”

  “You might be right.” I could still hear the doubt in his voice.

  “I know I am,” I affirmed. I’d managed to get the money; somehow I’d manage to get her moved up the transplant list, too. There had to be a way. I refused to believe that the universe would let me put myself through all this only to let her die in the end.

  “I’ve got to get to class. Give her a kiss for me, and promise you’ll get some rest.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You do know it’s the parent’s job to worry, right?”

  “I’ll always worry about you guys. It’s killing me that I can’t be there right now.”

  “Don’t go all sappy on your old man, Lanie. Get off the phone and go live. Love you, kid.” With that the line went dead. I was shocked because Mack rarely ever expressed his feelings. It wasn’t like I ever questioned that he loved me. I knew he did. It was just a shock to hear it.

  Suddenly I felt a renewed strength in what I was doing. Talking to my parents reminded me of the reason I had been so hell-bent on doing it in the first place. And the truth of the matter was, I would’ve done this even if Jabba the Hut had been the one to purchase me. As infuriating as Noah was, it could’ve been worse.

  Now I just had to figure out what to do about that transplant list.

  Noah

  It wasn’t right.

  The girl was killing me, one raging hard-on at a time. Blue motherfucking balls!

  She was too willing, too enticing, too hard to resist. But I’d done it. God help me, I’d done it. Even when she’d stuck out that voluptuous bottom lip of hers, I had resisted. Welcome to sainthood, Noah Crawford.

  The night before had been great. Really great. But I’d felt like shit afterward. I’d stolen the girl’s virginity, for Christ’s sake! Everything that should’ve been in place for something that monumental just wasn’t. There was no romantic setting, no vow to love her until the end of time. Only pure animalistic fucking. I’d fucked her. Plain and simple.

  And while it had been great for me, I had a hard time believing it had been the be-all-and-end-all for her. Yet she wanted more. Delaine Talbot was a glutton for punishment.

  But it was what I wanted, right? Someone there to fulfill all my sexual desires and fantasies, a woman who would cater to my needs, while I wouldn’t have to give a shit about hers. No emotional ties, no arguments over where we were going to have dinner, no awkward first kiss or meeting the parents, no chance in hell of catching her in my bed with any so-called best friend, no strings attached. Period.

  With Delaine and that contract, that was exactly what I had. So why was I questioning it?

  Because somehow it felt different. Different was good. And when different was wrapped around my cock, it was really fucking good.

  Okay, that solved my mysterious momentary lapse in direction. With my head screwed back on straight again and motivation rekindled, I waited for Delaine to join me in the limousine for our shopping trip. Lingerie shopping. I was really looking forward to it, too, even though I knew it was only going to add to the permanent rise I was sporting in my Levi’s. But that was okay because I was wearing the loose-fit ones, commando. That should keep me from busting through the zipper, right?

  Wrong.

  Samuel opened the door for Delaine when she finally came out to join me, and I swear I could have killed Polly Hunt with my bare hands. Or maybe I should give her a raise.

  My million-dollar baby was wearing a little black cotton skirt that barely covered her ass, and a blue tank top, the same color as her eyes, sans bra. Judging by how hard her nipples were, I’d say the limo was a little chilly and I needed to have Samuel turn the air-conditioning down. Or not. A high ponytail and black peep-toe heels completed her ensemble, and I mentally noted both as things to hold on to while fucking the shit out of her again in the very, very near future.

  “How was your date with Polly?” I asked, trying to get it together because I was about five seconds away from the very near future, figuratively and literally.

  “I had a lot of fun with her,” she said. “But you were right. She is extremely nosy. Lucky for you, I’m quick on the draw.”

  She laughed, and it sounded almost dainty, so unlike what I’d seen of her so far. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I mean, if she started acting all innocent and shit, that could potentially make me feel worse about what I was doing. I needed to piss her off or get her to piss me off.

  “Mmm-hmm, that’s nice,” I answered quickly. “So you don’t have anything on under that skirt, do you?”

  “What?” she asked, taken aback. “Um, no. You threw out all of my clothes, remember? And you wouldn’t let me buy any underwear when I went shopping with Polly.”

  “Let me see,” I said with a nod.

  “Let you see what?” she asked with a slight edge to her voice.

  “That pretty pussy.”

  She arched her brow at me defiantly, but I met her stare.

  “You’re serious?” she said incredulously.

  “Yes, I’m serious. Lift the skirt, goddamnit!” I was an ass, I knew it. But I had to
raise my voice to really piss her off.

  “You’re such a jerk,” she mumbled with a roll of her eyes, but she begrudgingly pulled up her skirt to reveal my toy anyway.

  Delaine was looking at me like I’d lost my fucking mind, which, admittedly, I probably had. But her expression changed when I undid my jeans and pulled out my cock.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Come here and spit on it,” I said, ignoring her question.

  “I tried to sit on your dick in the hot tub, and you said we couldn’t do that yet. But now when we’re in a moving vehicle, with someone sitting on the other side of a thin glass barrier and hordes of people all around us outside the car—now you want me?”

  “I said ‘spit,’ not ‘sit,’” I corrected her, and then she got a look of disgust on her face. So of course I had to clarify the purpose. I mean, I didn’t want her to think I was some sort of fetish freak. “I need the lubrication.”

  “For what?”

  “My dick is harder than a fucking titanium rod and I can’t fuck you, but you come out here with your nipples all pert and your skirt barely there and I can’t take it anymore! I need some release. So if you don’t mind—and even if you do, I really don’t give a shit—I’m going to jack off before I end up taking you like some savage caveman. Because I most definitely cannot even think about you in fucking lingerie in my current state.”

  “Oh,” she said simply, her mouth keeping the O shape for longer than was necessary.

  I felt like a dirty old man paying for pussy. Oh, my God, I’d paid for pussy.

  “Why not just order me to suck you off?” I could always depend on Delaine’s sassy attitude to pull me out of my funk and set me back on track. “After all, you did pay an awful lot of money for me to make you feel good.”

  I smirked. “Because I think you’re starting to like my cock in your mouth a little too much.”

  She reached across the space between us and slapped me. Hard.

  Finally we were getting somewhere.

  I grabbed her wrist and yanked her into my lap, turning her over to lie across my legs, with all the rounded, creamy glory of her bare ass staring me in the face.

  “Obviously you forgot your place in this relationship, Delaine, and you must now be punished like the little brat that you are.” I raised my hand and brought it down hard on her pert ass. A red palm imprint grew across her flawless skin and I felt my balls draw up tight. I’d fucking branded her, and damned if that didn’t turn me on.

  She was mine.

  She jerked in my hold and tried to scramble away, but I slapped her ass again, reveling in the way it bounced with a slight jiggle.

  “You bastard! Let me go!” she screamed, her face red with anger.

  “Tut, tut,” I reprimanded her. “Name-calling is another no-no, naughty girl.”

  I smacked her ass again, harder this time, and then rubbed my hand over the pink wheal that was beginning to rise as a result. She flailed her legs, inadvertently spreading them wide and giving me a fantastic view of her sweet pussy. I angled my wrist and smacked her bare lips next. Once, twice, three times. And my little naughty girl moaned.

  “You like that, huh?” I asked in that husky voice I happened to know she couldn’t resist.

  I smacked her ass again when she didn’t answer. Afterward I leaned forward and caressed the mark with my tongue to ease the sting of pain. While doing so, I gave the folds between her legs a gentler slap, feeling and hearing the wetness that had developed there. I moved the pads of my fingers in a circular motion, earning another moan that she dragged out between clenched teeth.

  Three wet fingers slapped at her opening in rapid succession before two dipped inside.

  “Unf …” She wiggled in my lap.

  “Be still!” I ordered her, and then removed my fingers, spanking her ass hard again.

  She yelped in response, but stilled her movements as ordered. That deserved a reward, so I slipped my fingers back between her slick folds and massaged her clit before dragging her wetness up and between the cheeks of her ass and circling her other opening. When I applied a slight pressure there, she rolled her hips, pushing back into me.

  To say she was receptive to my touch there would be an understatement. I bit down on my lip, barely able to contain my excitement, because I knew I was definitely going to slide my cock into her pretty little ass.

  “You want me to make you come, don’t you?”

  “No. I hate you.” And then she moaned, the sound a total contradiction to the words she spoke.

  “Do you?” I asked with a devilish smirk.

  I gently patted her pussy again, making sure I hit her swollen clit. She lifted her ass into the air, trying to angle herself so that she could reap more of the benefit on that little bundle of nerves. I gave her what she wanted, but when I felt her body tense, signaling her impending orgasm, I stopped and gave her ass one last, hard slap. Before she could even register what was happening, I lifted her and sat her back down in the seat across from me. She was panting pretty damn hard, her chest heaving, as she dropped her chin and looked at me. Anger flashed in her eyes, which only amused me.

  I felt the car stop and knew we had arrived at our destination. I still hadn’t been able to get off, but we were out of time and it would have to wait. No matter; I happened to know the shop had private dressing areas, and I knew one of the saleswomen personally. She was a real hellcat in the sack, very eager to please and willing to try anything once, or even five times.

  I tucked my dick away in my pants and leaned across the space between us. Cupping Delaine’s chin in my hand, I forced her to look at me even though she was trying to pull out of my grasp.

  “For future reference, slapping me only turns me on. And judging from the way that pretty little kitty purred when I spanked you, I think it’s safe to say the rough stuff turns you on, too. I’ll have to remember that.”

  I bent to kiss her and she curled her lips in, denying me. I tugged on her chin and gave her a stern look. “Kiss me, or I’ll take all your lovely new clothes away again and make you walk around the house naked for the next two years.”

  “Polly will just—”

  I cut her off in midsentence and claimed her mouth with mine. That must have pissed her off because she bit down hard on my lip. A low growl echoed from my chest, but I continued and shoved my tongue through her parted lips. She pushed on my chest as I smothered her cries of protest, ignoring her attempts to get free.

  I finally released her and gave her a cocky smile. “I told you, I like the rough stuff. You can pull your skirt down now.”

  She looked down at her lap and tugged on the minuscule piece of cotton just as I tapped on the window and Samuel opened the door for us. “Le Petit Boudoir,” I said in a flawless French accent as I stepped from the car. “Come, Delaine. Let’s shop.”

  She huffed and climbed out of the car to join me on the sidewalk. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”

  I turned to face her, fed up. “You know, you might be a little appreciative of the things I do for you. You knew what you were getting into when you signed up for this gig. So it makes no sense to me whatsoever that you feel like you constantly have to cop an attitude with me. I’m not exactly mistreating you. In fact, I think you’ve been treated pretty fairly, better than most other women in the same situation.”

  “Yeah, well, I highly doubt you’ll find many other women in the same situation, Mr. Crawford, so you don’t really have any evidence to validate that statement.” She swung around, her ponytail smacking me in the face as she stalked past me. “You fucked my mouth, you threw away my clothes, you made me greet you at the door just to give you head, and you took my virginity. So you’ll have to excuse me if I’m not exactly compelled to apologize for hurting your feelings.”

  I noticed she didn’t mention the ass spanking I’d just given her.

  She reached the door and swung it open a little harder than necessary. Without even looking
back at me, she stepped inside and disappeared from sight.

  “Yeah? Well, you liked every minute of it!” I yelled after her, but of course she didn’t hear me. However, the half dozen or so people walking by on the sidewalk did.

  I was Noah motherfucking Crawford, Chicago’s most eligible bachelor, and she made me look like some psychotic lunatic shouting at thin air. I looked back at the car just in time to see Samuel trying to conceal his smile.

  “I’m glad this is entertaining you. Wait here. We won’t be long,” I snapped, and then followed after Delaine.

  My eyes scanned the shop in search of her, and I found her rummaging through some of the undergarments in the center of the room.

  “Noah Crawford,” a sultry Latin voice cooed from behind me.

  Delaine looked up right as a pair of hands encircled my waist from behind and warm breath trickled over my skin. “I’ve missed you, lover. Where have you been hiding?” Fernanda whispered in my ear.

  I turned my head to the side and gave her my best smile, never taking my eyes off Delaine because her reaction was too priceless, comical even. The lift of her brow and the way she defiantly raised her chin exposed her jealousy.

  Well, now, this could get interesting.

  “Fernanda,” I acknowledged my onetime mistress as I turned and gave her cheek a lingering kiss. “How have you been?”

  “Lonely,” she said with a pout.

  I thumbed the pout and then stroked her cheek. “Aw, a beautiful woman like you? Lonely? I find that very hard to believe.”

  Delaine cleared her throat, and when I looked up at her, she tossed her head to the side and continued to browse, acting as if she hadn’t been paying attention to the interaction. She wasn’t fooling anyone.

  I took Fernanda by the hand and walked her toward my girl. “I’d like to introduce you to someone. Fernanda, this is Delaine. Delaine, meet the very voluptuous Fernanda.”

  I threw that in there on purpose. But she really was voluptuous: long legs, jet-black shiny hair, full lips, and a figure that made grown men cry. Le Petit Boudoir was just a little side job. Her main income came from nude modeling for various prominent magazines aimed at refined gentlemen.