Good Girls Like it Dirty

by Carmen Falcone

  “Who’s Zachary?” Monique asked.

  “He was our brother, and Zaine’s twin. We lost him a couple of years ago,” Emma said.

  “I’m so sorry.” Monique lightly stroked his forearm.

  He didn’t want her pity, but settled for nodding and changed the subject. However, her eyes watched him the entire time, and he assumed she wanted to know more. When they said goodbye to Nico and Emma, then walked to the valet station, she said, “This trip to Hawaii means a lot then. It’s your chance to wow that lady and convince her to give you the project.”

  He gave the valet the ticket, and the young man with tattooed arms quickly moved away from them to grab the car. Zaine glanced at Monique. “Yes.”

  Quickly, the valet reappeared, driving his Lamborghini and parking it in front of them. Zaine opened the door for Monique, tipped the man, and then slid inside to find her still watching him, probably waiting for more. “What?” he asked, clasping the steering wheel.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? You made me think it was a regular business trip.”

  “It didn’t occur to me. I didn’t think it’d matter either way.”

  “You know…if this thing between us is going to continue, you need to be honest with me. I won’t write a tell-all book about you, or conspire against you with your ex-wife. I have the right to know what goes on, though. I can’t stand deceit.”

  “Fair enough.” He guessed he’d been without someone caring about what went on for so long, he didn’t think she’d mind. But she did mind… He kept his focus on the road, and stepped on the accelerator a tad harsher than needed. This whole sex-for-money charade would be a lot easier if she had no heart.

  …

  “You’re doing great, Monique,” her teacher, Mrs. Sandoval, said with a kind smile as she handed her the corrected test back.

  Monique glanced at the A marked in red on the top of the page. “Thanks.”

  Mrs. Sandoval glanced around them as most of the other English as Second Language students focused on doing their assignment. Then, she turned closer to Monique, saying, “You know, the way you’re going, you may want to try to take the proficiency test before you planned.”

  “Really?” Monique sat up straighter on the chair. “But if I fail and need to retake it, I have to pay the fee again, right?”

  Mrs. Sandoval shrugged. “I guess it’s a risk you take. But honestly, I doubt you’ll fail to score a high enough grade to secure your place at that organization you mentioned.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”

  Monique clasped her pencil, moistening it with the sweat slicking her palm. Money was no longer a problem. With the stipend Zaine had given her for the first month they’d been together, she’d been able to send some money to her family in France and had more than enough left to support herself and pay extra fees for the test. If she left early though…she couldn’t expect him to pay her for a month if she’d be gone before he expected. Well, before she’d expected.

  Think, Monique. Think. Why didn’t she feel like taking it? Because it meant she could get into the program sooner, and leave California—and Zaine a lot sooner. Her stomach sank to the floor, the idea squeezing around her neck like a poisonous, conniving snake. So what?

  She really liked Zaine, but he didn’t feel anything for her other than pure sexual attraction. He had a hard time sharing stuff about himself, like she’d learned the previous week during that dinner with his sister and his friend.

  Maybe she’d let fate decide. She’d take the test sooner, see how she performed and if it helped her secure the job she wanted. Her heart thumped wildly, and she shifted in her seat, reminding herself she was in a classroom and not on her daily jog. Crap. The simple fact the idea made her so nervous, made her body argue for common sense, should be enough of a red flag.

  She’d begun caring for Zaine more than she’d intended, somewhere between spending all that time over at his house, making love with him, being the recipient of his passionate kisses and smiles.

  It was high time she took control of the situation and her life again. She raised her hand to Mrs. Sandoval, who walked over. “Yes?”

  “Where can I sign up for the test?” she asked.

  Yep. She’d take the test as soon as possible, and after the class, she’d go to a sex shop she usually drove by on her way home. Plan to take control back in session.

  Monique used the key Zaine had given her to enter his house. She’d been spending more time here than anywhere else, really. She usually drove over to her apartment to pick up more clothes or when her roommates summoned her to help on cleaning day, which she did even though she wasn’t around much to make any mess.

  She found him in the kitchen putting a sandwich together. “Hey.”

  He turned around. “Hey.”

  She deposited the brown paper bag on the island and walked up to him.

  “Are you all packed for Saturday?” he asked, reminding her they’d fly to Hawaii in two days.

  “Yes,” she said. The new clothes he’d asked her to buy were neatly stacked in the luggage he’d been adamant about her using. She’d planned to use her own rather old and tattered suitcase, but he’d told her to use one of his many designer-label, Italian leather pieces.

  But new clothes packed in a new suitcase couldn’t conceal the old baggage she carried. Sadness washed over her, knowing who she really was obviously didn’t make the cut for him. He wanted her to be more sophisticated, shinier, an object rather than a human being. He wanted her to be someone else. Even if she lived in LA for good, would they ever have a chance? No. Not without her having to compromise a whole lot to be Cavanaugh worthy. She shook her head. Take control. At least try.

  “Good.” He pulled her into his embrace, smothering her with that crazy energy that pushed away any doubts or fears. He fused his lips with hers, and she wrapped her arms around him, loving the sense of safety and adoration that enveloped her whenever he was around. He slid his hand to the small of her back, sandwiching her between him and the island countertop.

  “Zaine…”

  He placed her on the marbled counter, intensifying his claim, his tongue stroking hers in relentless pursuit. Her pussy clenched with need, tingles surging through her.

  Take control. Take control. She pushed his chest and broke the kiss, slipping off the counter before he had a chance to pull her against him again. “I’ve got something for us,” she said, reaching into the bag. The schoolgirl uniform and paddle were on the bottom, but somehow the setting didn’t seem right for that fantasy.

  She reached for the tube of lubricant and used the tissue paper to hide the other contents. “I thought today we could do some fun touching,” she said, putting it on the counter. They hadn’t tried anal sex yet, but she wanted to warm him up—hell, warm them up—to the idea, and why not start now?

  He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m all about fun.”

  Groaning, he embraced her from behind, and she felt his powerful hard-on poking her. Take control. Take… “You’re a resourceful woman, Monique. Can’t say I don’t love that about you.”

  The world seemed to spin around her, and her chest ached. What else did he love about her? He cupped her breasts, breathing into her ear, and her legs buckled as her control slipped away. Need pushed away her yearning for more than a casual fuck with Zaine. She wanted him to care for her, but she couldn’t deny the desire tugging low. And when he played with her taut nipples, everything went hazy.

  Couldn’t she take the reins from him on a different day? Hell, she’d been so worried about having the upper hand in her life. What if with Zaine she simply let him take control for as long as they lasted? While he paid her and gave her a way to build the life she dreamed about? Was that so bad? Especially when the way he made her body thrum with hot, crazy cravings only he could satisfy?

  “You’re thinking…” he said, kissing the side of her neck. “What do you wanna share?”

  “Who says I want to share?�
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  He reached for the spatula on the island, and her clit throbbed, sending pulses of electricity through her as she envisioned his next move. With his other hand, he lifted her skirt, exposing her bottom. Moisture pooled onto her G-string, and she wondered why he didn’t just rip it off like he’d done many other times.

  “Should I make you share?” He pressed the black spatula on her butt cheek, his voice carrying an edge.

  She wiggled her ass against the cool plastic, and her pussy clenched, making her wetter than she’d ever been before. “I wondered if you wanted me to use the lube on you,” she said playfully, but she couldn’t hide the tremor in her voice. She wanted what she imagined he’d do next, but she didn’t know how far he’d take this game.

  “I think we both know who’s going to need the lube.” He swatted her ass with the spatula, stinging her skin.

  Monique’s breath hitched and she moaned, desire threading through her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Tingly sensations spread across her ass cheeks and engorged her clit, making it throb even harder. They may not be together for the long haul, or for any of the right reasons, but when he claimed her like this…she felt she belonged to him. And whether she’d admit it or not, she loved feeling cherished.

  “You liked that, didn’t you?” He tugged at the sides of her underwear until her folds pressed hard into the fabric, the movement sending spirals of awareness to her pussy. “You want me to play with your asshole too.”

  “Yes,” she said, her hips undulating in invitation, wanting to give herself to him this way and every way.

  Damn it, the man knew how to play this game… She hoped at the end, she wouldn’t be the one losing. The ache in her chest intensified, radiating through her body while his fingers glided beneath her G-string, then flicked her clit. Exquisite waves of excitement warred with the pain squeezing her heart. What would her life be like after Zaine? How could she ever get used to regular guys again, when he’d made everything ordinary so deliciously extraordinary?

  She whimpered, fighting to stay upright and not give in to her weakening knees or her emotions. She couldn’t let her heart love him when he’d never made that part of their bargain.

  “Monique,” he called with urgency.

  Urgent maybe, but he was still not ready to give up. Zaine twisted the sides of her underwear one more time, and she arched forward into the island as another zing of pleasure surged through her. What was happening to her?

  Warm sweat covered her limbs, even though the room temperature was comfortable. At last, he ripped her G-string off her, and she sighed with relief. A draft swirled around her sex, making her incredibly exposed to him. Vulnerable, when he touched her she trusted him more than she should.

  He parted her folds, playing with them, his fingers exploring and provoking. She bucked into him, wishing he’d strip off his sweatpants, though the heat of his cock spread through the fabric, raising the tension knotting inside her throat.

  She pressed her cunt into his hand, wanting, needing so much more. With a sexy growl, perhaps sensing her eagerness, he grabbed the lube away from her view. She heard him open the tube and squirt some out. When he touched her again, he parted her cheeks a bit, and she felt the warm lube on his fingers. He placed his fingers close to her back entrance, giving her time to get used to the sensation.

  He resumed caressing her folds, stimulating her until her insides sizzled and twisted. Yes, oooh yes. She moved back and forth, her breath coming out in small gasps. He flicked her engorged clit, and currents of pleasure began to form.

  She didn’t know when he started to move his finger into her hole, distracted by the dizziness and throbbing of her heart. “Zaine. Zaine, I’m so close.”

  “Come, baby. Come apart for me.”

  He added a second finger to her hole, working it in and out, while thrusting the fingers of his other hand into her soaking wet pussy. An awareness pinched at her, but once she focused on the warm sensation the lube provided, and how good the in-and-out friction was, she relaxed.

  She’d never done this…having a man touch both entrances at once.

  He intensified the flicking of her clit, and she could no longer take the pressure expanding inside her. She thrust her head back and gave in to the inner explosion, letting her body quiver as pleasure sent insistent, trembling waves through her.

  Maybe she wasn’t in full control where Zaine was concerned. Hell, he’d been in charge and it’d felt amazing. He owned her body when they screwed. What could she do, though, to keep from losing her heart to him?

  Chapter Nine

  “Are you sure this is it?” Zaine asked when he parked in front of the entertainment complex. Monique had insisted they do something she chose for the day, and he’d ended up agreeing. When she gave him the address, he didn’t think much of it.

  “Yes. C’mon,” she said, sliding out of the car and shutting the door.

  He sighed, then did the same and closed the door. He hadn’t been to a place like this since he and Zachary were teenagers. They loved to meet their friends and eat pizza and play arcade games. His chest tightened for a moment.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “My brother loved this kind of place when we were young.” Hell, the type of sports bars Zachary favored as an adult had been a grown-up version of this type of venue. Dartboards, loud music, spicy appetizers.

  “Then let’s honor him and have a good time,” she said, and offered her hand to him.

  God, he wanted to live in Monique’s world for a lot longer. She seemed to have such a different way of seeing things, yet, at the same time, he wanted to be more like her. To be with her a lot longer than he had the right to be.

  He’d emailed Ashley a copy of his cell phone bill, as well as a file from his security company with all the times caught on camera when Monique had visited their home prior to their separation. He’d hoped proving she wasn’t there for longer than needed and that he hadn’t ever called her would help, but Ashley still didn’t answer his calls. Shit.

  He thrust his fingers into his hair. What good would obsessing over it do? “You’re right. It’s time to have some fun,” he said.

  She squeezed his hand. “Like you Americans say, awesome.”

  They entered the huge space, where a mix of teenagers and adults with children or just on their own were having a good time at the machines or playing miniature golf and laser tag. He couldn’t believe it, but she convinced him to play in the two-floor laser tag area. At first, he entertained letting her shoot him just for the heck of it, but damn it, she was good at making his harness vibrate each time she zoomed her gun on him.

  “Nooooo,” she said later at the bowling station, when he hit strike twice in a row.

  “I spent my teen years bowling. You have no idea what you’re up against, sweetheart.”

  She held the ball and feigned a look of sadness. “Teach me?”

  “Hold it like this,” he said, holding his own. “Then roll with intent.”

  “I just realized maybe I should have worn something like a miniskirt to keep you distracted so I’d win.”

  “If you had, we wouldn’t have made it out of the car,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

  She followed his suggestion and knocked six pins. She lifted her hands, raising the roof. “Yes. It’s a start.”

  The cheesy fries they’d ordered arrived, and they sat around the table for a moment. Shit, he didn’t know when he’d last had this much fun. No fancy restaurants and no exclusive events.

  “These are delicious,” she said, grabbing one fry and taking it to her mouth.

  His heart swelled. Maybe it was because he hadn’t been in a bowling alley in so long, and memories of his brother always put a smile on his face. But maybe it was because being here doing something so ordinary with her made him ponder all the things he could do if she weren’t leaving in a few weeks—and if he weren’t in such a crappy time of his life to begin a new relationshi
p with someone with different goals.

  …

  “Are you ready for the beach?” Zaine asked, sliding his sunglasses into the pocket of his shirt. Correction: the silly Hawaiian shirt with a loud pattern that she’d bought him the day before, after they’d arrived in Honolulu. She’d dared him to wear it, and hell, he never backed away from a challenge.

  Monique took her phone from her bag and snapped a picture. “I need evidence of you wearing this,” she said, gesturing at the bold brown and red colors that’d give a regular person a headache. “Your sisters are going to love it.”

  “You’ll pay for it later.”

  She winked at him. “Can’t wait.”

  Monique stood in the middle of the outrageously expensive suite of the trendy Honolulu hotel, flashing him a radiant smile he wished he could bottle. Or freeze in time. Maybe that was his snapshot of her, a mental picture he’d never forget. His heart squeezed for a moment, and he swallowed hard.

  She wore a turquoise cover-up that whispered above her knees, and a pair of flip-flops he doubted had been purchased from the expensive store he’d sent her to shop in. Still, she looked adorable, and he couldn’t wait to see what type of bikini she had hiding under all that fabric.

  “Let’s go before we decide to stay in,” he said, and held her hand in his. She followed him out, and he closed the door and walked down the hallway with her.

  Excitement simmered in his blood, not only because he’d get to see her in a swimsuit, but because he’d spend a full day with her. Without his work, her school, or anything else to come between them.

  The elevator pinged, and they entered.

  “Are we going to the beach in front of the hotel?” Monique asked as they stepped inside.

  He withdrew his hand from hers and reached for the keys of his rental car. “Nah. We’ll go somewhere less crowded.”