Naughty Bits

by Lacy Danes

  I know I need to get him to the bed now if I want to entrap him. “Love,” I say as I get on my knees, slowly rising off of the chair, “take me to bed.”

  “No.” He shakes his head vigorously and his fingers dig into my ass to stop me.

  My heart trips a beat. Why is he so adamantly opposed to the idea? The hot fear congeals into ice and slams into my chest. Goose bumps dot my flesh.

  “I got you right where I want.” His tone is low and flat, as if the words were dragged from the recesses of his mind. I stop breathing as my muscles tense. I’m paralyzed with fear.

  He plunges his face between my breasts.

  “Perfect,” he says in a muffled groan, nuzzling deeper.

  I want to sag and fall down as my pulse skips and stumbles. I should have known. He was talking about sex.

  The stubble from his chin scrapes my skin, but I don’t flinch. I don’t move. I feel like I’ve dodged a bullet and don’t know where to run for cover.

  Calvin opens his mouth and stuffs one crest as far as it will go. His teeth nip my flesh. He closes his eyes and I can see the pure bliss etched in his face. He lets go and I know he’s going to make a lunge for my other breast. I turn slightly.

  “It’s too uncomfortable here,” I tell Calvin, lowering my voice as if I’m confiding something naughty. “The bed is better.” I tug at his shirt, silently indicating that he should follow me.

  “Table’s closer.” He suddenly leans forward, ready to clear the table with one sweep of his hand. I barely stop him in time.

  “The table is not big enough,” I say in a rush.

  “Not big enough?” he repeats dully. He looks at my breasts and licks his lips. His eyes are glazed with lust.

  My window of opportunity is closing fast. I can see the signs. Calvin is right where I can guide him. But once the level of needs rises, there’s no stopping him.

  “What do you have in mind?” He captures one of my nipples between his teeth and sucks hard.

  The violent pull goes straight to my clit. I arch my back and let out a guttural groan as my sex creams. I’m ready to ride his dick hard and fast. It’s a struggle to remember the plan. “Anything you want,” I tell him shakily.

  He stops sucking, but his hands grip my ass tighter than ever. Calvin lifts his head and looks straight in my eye. “Anything?”

  I swallow roughly. I know what I’m agreeing to, and I usually hold back on this because Calvin is so rough. “Anything,” I promise in a whisper.

  Calvin shoots out of his seat with such speed that the chair crashes to the floor. I know I should take his enthusiasm as a compliment, but I’m too busy holding on for dear life. One of his arms is across my thighs while the other holds me tight against his chest. My high heels clatter to the ground as he carries me to the bedroom before throwing me on to the bed.

  I bounce on the mattress and grab for a corner before I fall off. As the world rights itself, I roll onto my back and stare up at the mirror.

  Well, I thought, that answers that. He’s not too concerned about shaking the walls and letting the mirror come crashing down. But he’s not on the bed, either. Call me suspicious, but he might try to do me without getting in the hot zone. Men have a tendency to be greedy that way.

  “Where’s the lube?” Calvin asks as he strips off his clothes. I’m surprised he doesn’t tear them into shreds at the rate he’s going. I sit up and reach for the bottle in my bedside table.

  “Lube me up,” he says. He stands by the bed with his legs braced apart, his dick hard and curving upward.

  I have to get him on the bed. I squirt the lubricant in my hand and curl my fingers in what I hope is a seductive manner. “Come here, love.”

  He eagerly crawls onto the bed and groans appreciatively as I liberally coat his dick. I hand him the bottle so he can apply it to me.

  I reluctantly turn around and get on my hands and knees. My stomach tightens as my heart pounds in my ears. I instinctively tense as he rubs the lube in my anus.

  My hesitation isn’t because of the anal sex. I like it, and can reach an orgasm unlike anything I’ve ever achieved, as long as the guy doesn’t shove his dick in me and starts rutting.

  No, my reluctance is placing myself in this submissive position for someone who might want to kill me. I can’t see what Calvin’s doing. I shiver at the thought. At least I know he’s naked and not concealing a weapon.

  I can also tell that he’s enjoying his duty a little too much. I squirm as he teases my tiny rosebud with his fingers. He spreads my cheeks and I force myself to relax.

  “Careful, love,” I say. “Nice and easy.” But does he listen?

  I feel the crown of his dick pressing against me. I take a deep breath just as the thick, mushroom head eases in. Already he’s stretching me. It’s uncomfortable and stinging, and my body is determined to reject him.

  Arching and dipping my spine, I push against Calvin. Bad move. He slides deeper and I can’t remember to breathe. My entire body is tingling. Burning. I want to pull away, but my ass is clamping snugly around his dick.

  “Slower,” I say through clenched teeth, but I know my instructions are useless as he holds my hips tightly. He draws back, his dick retreating, only for him to pause and plunge deeper.

  I bite back a scream. My body is shuddering as the pain and pleasure mix into a potent combination. Calvin retreats and advances with choppy, wild thrusts. Faster and faster. I bunch the sheets under my fists, but I can’t find anything to hold onto.

  The bed shakes under my knees as the mattress slides more to one side. My breasts swing wildly as Calvin humps me with ferocious speed. I’m dizzy, I can’t catch my breath, but my entire world is centered on his dick.

  I close my eyes and the sensations sharpen. My clit is pulsing heavily, and my sex is so drenched I can smell it. Moisture drips on my thighs. If Calvin would pinch my clit or sink his fingers in my vagina, I would shatter and disintegrate.

  He does neither. Instead he gives a mighty shove into my ass and I collapse onto the mattress. He falls on top of me, his dick driving deeply inside me.

  Our groans mingle as his hips thrust against me, his balls slapping against my ass. Calvin brackets his arms at my side and sets a demonic pace. My breath sputters out of my lungs as he sinks his teeth into my shoulder.

  I rear back and the last resistance inside me snaps. I’m about to come. I can feel it swirling, building power. It’s going to be dark and brutal, and I can’t wait.

  As Calvin’s flesh slapped against mine, I realize that he’s not the one trying to kill me.

  At least, not with the mirror.

  His stamina, however, will be the death of me.

  If it’s Wednesday, then I’m with Dennis. I lean my head on his shoulder and let his body heat envelop me. His dress shirt is soft under my cheek and I inhale the faint scent of his cologne.

  He lowers his head and brushes his lips along my forehead. I hum with contentment, knowing that by the end of the night I will have been kissed and petted all over. Dennis can’t get enough touching and affection, and, I confess, I find it addicting, as well.

  We’re slow dancing to the music on the CD player, our hips gently swaying to the beat. His hands glide over my spine and I shiver. I made sure to wear a backless dress tonight so he could caress my bare skin.

  I can feel the changes in his body as he gets aroused. Dennis likes to take things gradually, which is a nice change of pace from Calvin. I’m still walking gingerly and not my usually graceful self.

  As much as I appreciate Dennis’s slow and steady pace, it’s not always the easiest approach. It can take all night before he finds satisfaction. I have to be on the top of my game and lavish so much attention that I’m exhausted afterward. He’s lucky I don’t charge by the hour.

  I tilt my hips against his and feel his cock. It’s time to take him to the bedroom. It’s been hard not to hurry him along tonight. Dennis can’t be rushed. If I try—and I know this from experience—th
en we are back to square one and have to start all over again.

  I step back and capture his hand in mine. “Come to bed,” I say with a smile. I walk toward the bedroom and I feel the resistance in him.

  Looking over my shoulder, I see the indecision flittering across his face. I wonder if I still rushed it. Should I have given him another couple of minutes?

  “Let’s do something different tonight,” he suggests.

  I try to hide my surprise as a curl of warning slithers coldly down my spine. Dennis who wants to do the same thing every time we meet now wants to veer from routine? If that isn’t suspicious!

  I do my best not to follow my instincts, which consists of pointing my finger at him and accusing him of murder in his cold, black, devious heart. Instead, I gently drop my hold on his wrist. “Are you sure?” I ask as sweetly as possible while I take another step back. “What do you have in mind?”

  Dennis looks at his feet and rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “I dunno.”

  “I’ll do anything you want,” I remind him softly. Except for roll over and die, but he’ll find that out soon enough.

  He doesn’t respond. Most guys would have instantly come up with the dirtiest, nastiest, in-your-dreams suggestion. Dennis, on the other hand, gives a furtive look over my shoulder.

  Guilty! The man is guilty! Time to call in the cops.

  I try to stop this train of thought. I could be jumping to conclusions. It’s been known to happen. It might be a coincidence that he wants to shake things up on the very day I need it to be business as usual.

  But I doubt it.

  My feet step on the threshold to my bedroom. I picture the bed behind me. What would be the one thing I can do that would make him launch for the bed like a heat-seeking missile?

  It has to be something good. I need to be sure. If he doesn’t jump for the offer, then I know he’s the one who tampered with the mirror.

  “Hey, I have an idea,” I say as my blood pumps hard through my veins. “Would you like to tie me up?” I walk to the bed and flop on it. I’m spread-eagled on the bedspread, my legs going as far wide as my dress will let me.

  Dennis hangs back. I notice he’s stepping into the room. I need to sell this harder.

  “My hands will be tied to the bed and I won’t be able to move,” I continue cheerfully. “Sounds like fun, huh?”

  He shakes his head and I see his gaze dart to the ceiling.

  “Just imagine. I’ll be tossing and turning—” I act it out, exaggerating my moves so the headboard butts against the wall “—and I will be at your mercy.”

  “No, I don’t think so. Why don’t you get off the bed and—”

  I rise on my elbows and tilt my head. “Did you hear something?”

  Dennis freezes and looks up. “No.”

  “It’s a strange noise. Was it the bedsprings?” I rock my body hard from side to side. “No, that wasn’t it.”

  “Sweetheart, get off the bed.” He steps into the room and then takes another step back. His attention doesn’t leave the mirror.

  “Maybe it was when the bed frame knocks against the wall.” I jut my hips up and down, moving the bed as hard as I can. “There’s that sound again,” I lie. “Do you hear it?”

  “Get off the bed now!”

  I swing my legs over the mattress corner and sit up. “Don’t worry, Dennis,” I say coldly. “This isn’t the mirror you tampered with.”

  The tension in the room suddenly arcs and quivers. Dennis drags his stunned gaze onto me.

  “That one came crashing down a couple of days ago. As you can see—” I rise from the bed and motion at my body like a game show hostess “—I got out in time.”

  “And…George?”

  I stop in my tracks. How does he know about George? Panic claws in my chest and I try to hide my true thoughts. “George?” I ask idly.

  “Did he get hurt, too?” Dennis persists.

  Is that what this is about? He knows that I have another lover? He knows George’s name? Should I act dumb or play it straight? I don’t know. I’m flying blind and I don’t like it.

  I also don’t know if he’s aware of Calvin. That might send him over the edge. “George wasn’t here when it happened,” I answer carefully.

  He looks up at the mirror and frowns. “Then how did…” His voice trails off as he wrestles with the laws of physics.

  I shrug and fold my arms across my chest. “I don’t know. I was lying on the bed minding my own business. But that’s not the point. Why would you do something like this to me? We were good to each other.” I thought he worshipped the ground I walk on, but if I say that out loud it’s going to sound conceited.

  Dennis tilts his head back and wearily closes his eyes. “You don’t understand.”

  I scoff at that and put my hands on my hips. “I understand plenty. You’re consumed with jealousy. Did you ever think of confronting me? No. Instead you went off the deep end.”

  Dennis slowly opens his eyes and I get a sense he didn’t hear a word I said. “What does George know?”

  I roll my eyes. I want to scream out my frustrations. For the first time since we’ve been together, I’m telling Dennis how I feel, and all he cares about is George’s opinion. Men! They’re the lowest. They’re—

  Wait a second. It’s like something clicked in my brain. I gasp as the truth hits me like a slap in the face. This isn’t about me. It’s about George!

  I don’t realize I’m talking out loud until Dennis nods. “It’s true,” he confesses. “I wanted to hurt George.”

  “What about me?” I stare at him incredulously. “Didn’t you think I would have gotten hurt, too?”

  Dennis casts a questioning look in my direction. “You thought the mirror was planned for you? Why would you think that?”

  I storm over to where he stands. “When someone tries to kill me, I take it personally.”

  He holds his hands out as if to ward me off. “You aren’t my target.”

  “I know, I know.” In Dennis’s eyes, I was the not-so-innocent bystander. I know I should ask why he wants to hurt George, but you know what? At this moment I am too pissed off to care.

  Don’t my feelings or my life matter? After eighteen months, don’t I matter? My stomach clenches. If I have to ask it, I already know the answer.

  Dennis approached me because of George. He had sex with me to get into my condo. Every time we were in bed, he hadn’t been watching our reflection. Dennis had been coming up with a plan of action. I shudder with revulsion.

  I can’t believe it. This is the guy who adored me. He couldn’t get enough of me. I thought I was the highlight of his week and instead I was…in the way. No, not even that. I was simply there.

  How could I have read Dennis so wrong? What else am I wrong about? Am I less than George’s status symbol? Do I even rank in his mind when he’s not here?

  And what about Calvin? Does he see me as a teacher, or is that a whimsical thought of mine? Does Calvin even see me, or does he only look at the tits and ass.

  Why did I think I was the center of attention and that their lives rotated around me? I thought that I held the reins, dictating the schedule and the price. The truth is that they could have cared less.

  All this time I laugh over my lovers’ misconceptions, but the laugh is on me. I’ve been living in a fantasy world. I saw things the way I wanted to see.

  I rearranged my life to be with these men and risked everything, but they are never inconvenienced. I put my pleasure secondary to theirs, believing that by doing so, I’m in control. I thought I was someone special, but it’s all a lie. I’m a plaything. Someone easily discarded, easily dismissed.

  I slowly walk out of the bedroom. My legs feel like lead. My head is in a fog.

  “Where are you going?” His voice sharpens, piercing my troubled thoughts.

  “I’m calling the police.” I say it as if I’m in a trance.

  “What?” He is suddenly at my side. “No, you can�
�t.”

  “And then I’m calling George.” He has to be warned. He’s going to dump me, but at this moment, I feel like saying good riddance to him.

  “No, sweetheart.” Dennis pulls at my arm. “You can’t do this.”

  I have the phone in my hand. “Watch me.” I don’t look at him. I feel so used and insignificant.

  “We can come to an agreement.”

  I stare at him. Is he for real? Does he think I can be bribed for my silence? My body has a price tag, so he thinks my life does, too?

  “I’ll give you anything you want.” Desperation blurs his voice.

  I turn on the phone. “I’ve heard that before.” I should; I say it all the time.

  “No, really.” He falls to his knees, pulling at my arms. “I mean it. Anything. Name your price.”

  He’s pleading. Begging. It’s a new look for him. For any of my lovers, now that I think about it.

  And I realize that this is what’s missing in my life.

  I like sex. I like getting paid for sex, but what I want more than anything is what I thought the sex gave me. Power. I had assumed the money represented my power. The higher the price, the more control I had.

  Boy, was I wrong. I don’t want Dennis’s money. Well, I do, but not at this moment.

  I want him to see me as a dangerous, don’t-mess-with-me woman. I want him to know that I have him by the balls and I won’t hesitate to squeeze them off.

  It’s an odd feeling. For once, my lover’s main concern is pleasing me. He will do anything I want at the risk of his own pleasure and convenience. He will strip his pride and ignore everything else to make sure I’m satisfied.

  Right now, I am the most important person in his life. The absolute power heating my blood is sweeter than any aphrodisiac I know.

  The tables are turning and I’m liking it. I shouldn’t. What he’s suggesting is breaking a few laws. Probably some morals, too, but I’m just guessing.

  Possibilities and options cram into my brain. I should tell the authorities, but where’s my proof? I should warn George, but would he do the same if he were in my position?