Temporary Tricks

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Temporary Tricks Page 5

by Saranna Dewylde


  Reed reclined next to her. “I sent the driver for pizza."

  "It's two hours back to the city,” Khloe said.

  "There's a little mom and pop shop on the other side of the lake. They make a good pie,” Reed promised her.

  "So that means we have to behave until he gets back?"

  "I wouldn't go that far.” Reed reached for the tie on her robe.

  "How far would you go?” she teased.

  "We're going to find out."

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  Chapter Seven

  Luck O’ the Khloe

  * * * *

  The weekend with Reed had been nothing short of spectacular. This was why rich people lived longer. She was so relaxed and had an all-round sense of well-being. He'd indulged her every whim, pampered her with good food, good sex, libation, massages... It was a life anyone could quickly get used to living.

  She hadn't wanted to leave their little idyll, but Sunday night had come and when it was time to go, she didn't say anything. Khloe knew it had to end—all things did. She wanted to ask him if this was how he treated all his secretaries, but she didn't really want the answer, so she kept her mouth shut.

  It was all well and good to tell herself this was strictly a business arrangement, but it would be something else altogether to hear it out of his mouth after spending a weekend with him. It wasn't just because she'd spent a few days with him, or fucked him—they'd been intimate in that time on more than just a physical level.

  Now she knew how Julia Roberts’ character in Pretty Woman felt. Khloe didn't like it. She especially hadn't liked it when, on the ride back to her apartment, he'd brought up money.

  "It's still a week until payday. Are you okay?” he'd asked, like he had to worry about rent and knew what it was like to be afraid of having the power turned off.

  "Yeah, I'm fine.” If fine meant she had three packages of Ramen in the cabinet and all the tap water she could drink.

  Khloe chided herself. She'd performed her services, kept up her end of the bargain. There was nothing wrong with accepting payment as agreed.

  "Khloe, why won't you let me help you?” Reed asked in earnest.

  It didn't appear so cheap or tawdry when he put it that way. He seemed like a man who wanted to provide for his woman.

  His woman. A dangerous choice of words for Khloe's heart.

  "Because I'm fine. I can wait until payday like every other working stiff."

  "Yes, but working my stiff entitles you to certain perks, my dear."

  Khloe had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from gasping like some maiden aunt in a too-tight girdle. He hadn't forgotten their arrangement for a second. It was blatant and wanton stupidity on her part to do so.

  "I suppose it does,” she said, trying to keep the chill out of her voice. This was what she'd signed up for—there could be no back-pedalling or false outrage now.

  "Good. You have my card. Buy what you need.” He threaded his fingers through hers, holding her hand.

  It was enough to make her want to junk-punch him. How could he say something so...so...utterly john-to-whore, then hold her hand like she meant something to him? He was blurring the lines and it hurt.

  Why couldn't their encounters have been cold and functional instead of all of this heat and passion? Khloe was having a hard time keeping her distance. She was going to end up pulling fire alarms like Brandy. If he could reduce a woman like her to a pathetic mess, he'd obliterate Khloe in no time. She wanted to pull her hand away, but he'd paid for it, so she guessed he could hold it if he felt like it.

  "Khloe?"

  She didn't want to look at him—she just wanted this ride to be over. Khloe needed some space from him and their arrangement. She needed to get back to herself. That would make no sense if she said it out loud, but Khloe had always been able to depend on herself and she'd always known her own mind. Reed took all of that and threw it in a blender on the ‘ice crusher’ setting.

  "Are you angry with me?"

  More earnest confusion. She wanted to slap the look off his face, which twisted her up more. Everything she was feeling now was her own fault.

  She was the remedial kid with the dunce cap on. When she got home, she was going to sit in the corner and write Khloe + Reed = Dumbass a thousand times. Maybe that would cure her of her stupidity.

  "No, why should I be?” Khloe forced a smile.

  "I don't know, but you're so pissed you could chew nails."

  "At myself.” Why had she even said that? Put on a pretty face, smile and clean up your mess

  "Do you want to talk about it?"

  Merciful hell and the seven rings! Anything but that. Absolutely anything.

  "No, nothing to talk about,” Khloe replied with determination.

  "Damn, but you're stubborn. I can take care of you in other ways besides in the bedroom, sweetheart."

  "I'm sure you can, but when you're tired of it, who will do it then?” Khloe paused for effect. “Right,” she answered her own question. “Back to me."

  Reed Rothington's mistake hit him in the mouth like an angry papa after curfew. He'd basically called her a whore. That wasn't how he meant it when he'd said that working his stiff entitled her to special treatment. He would've said that to a girlfriend. Well, maybe not have said it, but he'd have certainly thought it.

  He tried to imagine telling Brandy something in that vein. Reed tried to imagine telling her any of the things he knew he could tell Khloe. She wasn't that kind of woman. Brandy was a china doll to be kept in a case, put on display. Khloe was a real woman, she wasn't fragile, but that didn't mean he could play as roughly with her as he wanted with no repercussions.

  Reed wanted to apologise, but he knew Khloe would blow it off like it didn't matter and she wouldn't even listen to what he had to say. He could tell by the set of her chin. Bree had warned him when Khloe's chin looked like it had been ratcheted up by a car jack to let the matter go. Apparently, Khloe didn't make this face often, but when she did, it was possible hell could be primed for a new regime.

  He had to take his chances. “Khloe, because of our arrangement, I didn't realise how that sounded."

  "Whatever."

  Fuck. ‘Whatever’ wasn't a word when it issued from a woman's mouth—it was nitroglycerine. Jostle it the wrong way and explosions would most definitely ensue. He thought about buying her something pretty, but Reed had the distinct feeling she'd be even more insulted.

  He brought her hand to his lips and brushed a caress across her knuckles. “Forgive me, my lady."

  She still wouldn't look at him.

  "Pistols at dawn?” He leaned closer to her and the scent of the pomegranate shampoo tingled in his awareness. Reed pressed her hand against his face. “Slap me, then, for the wretched cad I am?"

  Khloe laughed.

  "Out of the doghouse?” Reed slipped his hand up behind her neck and nuzzled her throat.

  "No. Just because you got a laugh out of me doesn't mean all is forgiven."

  "Mmm. I thought you weren't mad?” he asked and scraped his teeth against her tender skin.

  "Shut up,” she grumbled and arched her neck closer to his mouth.

  He was pleased when he felt her pulse thrum faster against his lips and her mouth fell open as her breaths became pants. She might be angry, but she'd forgive him. Sometimes he was a thoughtless bastard.

  Most of the women of his acquaintance would have made him take them to Tiffany's or Bulgari and taken it out of his bank account. Not Khloe. Bree had been right. She wasn't like anyone he'd ever known.

  He wanted more from Khloe than a simple business arrangement. Reed knew he'd have to prove it to her. So when they got to her apartment and she invited him up, he walked her to her door and bid her goodnight.

  Self-sacrifice was how they did it in all the stories, right? Nothing had been so hard for him to give up as the invitation into her bed, because no doubt about it, Reed Rothington was addicted to Khloe Bell.
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  Chapter Eight

  Paying For It

  * * * *

  Khloe was sure that all men were after the same thing, especially when they'd paid for it. So why hadn't Reed wanted to come in?

  Was he tired of her already? That had to be a record. No, one night would have been a record. They'd had an entire week.

  She had a horrible thought.

  Maybe she was dirty. Was she sporting a fishy taco? She'd heard stories of the girls in high school who ended up with cans of tuna in their lockers. Khloe was sure she would die of embarrassment. No, not just be really embarrassed, but would, with any luck, fall over dead. This was it—this was the one where, if her suspicions proved true, she'd have to take a faceplant off the fire escape and bleed out in the alley below before facing that humiliation.

  Hot firemen catching her in the act had been horrible, but she'd discovered she could live with it. Reed declining to fuck her because she stank like the Hudson at low tide was another matter entirely.

  She leant back on the couch, spread her legs and sniffed. Khloe couldn't smell anything unpleasant, but his hands had been up in there like he was digging for gold. Maybe he'd found some? Damn if her brain wasn't her own worst enemy sometimes.

  With her eyes wide, she slipped her fingers between her thighs and tentatively inside. They felt good there and she was tempted to jill-off, but decided, no, this whole olfactory issue was much more important.

  She withdrew her fingers and brought them up to her nose. Khloe closed her eyes tight, as if that would help anything—like if she didn't watch her fingers it would change how they smelt. Khloe took a delicate sniff with one nostril. How she'd managed that, she wasn't sure. Maybe the suspicion of trauma to her pride and assault on her nose had been enough to shut the left nostril down.

  She exhaled a huge sigh of relief when she realised that wasn't it. Sure, it smelt like girl bits, but it wasn't unpleasant. She'd wondered if she was a deviant because she'd tasted herself on his fingers and she'd liked it...

  Khloe screamed like a Victoria's Secret model lost in a Lane Bryant store. Even though her hips were of the latter dimensions as opposed to the former, it was the only thing that could describe her terror.

  Reed Rothington was standing in her doorway.

  He'd seen her play Hide-and-go-sniff.

  "I'm not going to ask what you were doing, but know I thought it was sexy as hell.” A boyish grin played on his lips.

  "What are you doing here?” she squeaked.

  "You seemed very upset that I didn't want to come in. I came back to explain."

  "I thought maybe you didn't want to come in because I was dirty."

  "Not as dirty as you're going to be when I'm done with you,” Reed promised.

  "I don't think so.” Khloe huffed.

  "What?” Reed seemed genuinely confused.

  "You can't just go around refusing sex and then think it's going to be available as soon as you change your mind."

  He laughed. “Khloe, I tried to be the good guy."

  "How is denying me sex being the good guy, I'd like to know?"

  "I wanted to show you it's not just about the sex."

  Khloe didn't want to hear any more. This was a dangerous path. One she'd already tripped over on and fallen on her face. “Go away,” she grumped.

  "Really? Go away? That's all you can come up with?” Reed came inside and closed the door behind him. He turned the deadbolt with slow purpose.

  "I'm having a not-so-fresh feeling. So, yeah. Go away.” If she'd been standing, she would have stomped her foot like a little girl and slammed her bedroom door. Maybe more than once.

  "Maybe a tongue bath would help?” He licked his lips lasciviously.

  "You know, I ought to take you up on that just for coming in without knocking."

  "You ought to take me up on it because you know I'm damn good at it.” Reed was already on his knees before her and spreading her thighs apart.

  If he wanted to make her come, who was she to argue? “So, you're my temp tonight?"

  "Yes, ma'am.” From the enthusiasm in his voice, Reed sounded as if he liked the idea more than he should have.

  Khloe allowed him to ease her back on the couch and she spread her legs wider. She had to say that she liked the look of his dark head bent between her thighs. She liked the feel of his tongue through her lace panties better, and best yet was the feel of his hot, wet tongue on her bare flesh.

  It delved between her slick folds and she arched against his mouth. Sensation spiralled through her and his fingers were inside her. It wasn't enough, though—she wanted more. Khloe wanted his cock to fill her instead of his fingers.

  She raked her nails across his shoulders and he flicked his tongue faster around the swollen nub of her clit. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, now, pushing him closer to his work, guiding him to her need.

  Khloe cried out, but she couldn't seem to find her orgasm. His tongue wasn't enough on her clit. She'd been dating Walter exclusively for too long and she'd had more orgasms in the last two days than she'd had in the last two weeks. She swore the damn thing had a callus on it. One she was fine with when he was using his fingers.

  She tugged his hair roughly. “Fuck me."

  Reed didn't argue, but stood and pulled a condom out of his pocket. Khloe took it from him and tore the packaging with her teeth then made short work of his slacks. She freed his cock and she noted again it was, indeed, an anaconda.

  Khloe shivered with the delight of anticipation and leant forward to taste him. The first touch of her tongue caused a low sound in the back of his throat and she licked up from the base to take the velvety head fully into her mouth. She sucked and licked, pulled him deeper into her throat then pushed him back so the thick head rubbed against the inside of her cheek.

  When she could feel his cock about to surge, she withdrew him from her mouth and positioned the condom on the head of his cock. She curled her hand around it and slid the condom down the length of the shaft.

  They hadn't used one the first time and she'd liked feeling his jism inside her, but Khloe knew this was the smart thing to do. For all he knew, she could have been lying about the pill and for all she knew, he could've had a thing for hourly prostitutes as well as those he paid bi-weekly.

  She didn't want to think about that now, she only wanted the sensation. Reed moved to push her back on the couch, but Khloe was in charge. She knew what she wanted and she was going to take it.

  It was Reed who was pushed back on the couch and Khloe straddled him, rubbing the head of his cock against her clit and teasing him with entry. She rolled her hips against him, pushing him just barely inside her. He locked his arms around her and he thrust, but she held him where she wanted him with her thighs.

  "Jesus, Khloe,” he whispered.

  He tried to take the lead by pushing his hand between them as he had before and working her clit with his thumb, but Khloe was ready for him. She took him all the way inside her and, as her body stretched for him, she bent her head and kissed him.

  Reed moved experimentally and Khloe thought she might die. She felt tight and full, like he was touching everywhere inside her at once. It felt as new and good as it had the first time he'd filled her. Khloe met his next thrust and she felt he'd hit the core of her, but it was a decadent sensation. One she wanted more of.

  She was riding him now, using her thighs and her kiss to manoeuvre him to her pleasure. He tightened his arm around her and increased the intensity of his fingers on her clit.

  It was a heady power to know he was ready to come and that she had control over the encounter. That caused her slit to tighten and it drew a cry from Reed. Khloe tightened her cunt around him again and his cock swelled, ready to spill.

  Even as his body was jerking against hers with his orgasm, he didn't stop what he was doing to her clit and she found she was coming with him. Pleasure radiated through her body in concentric circles, spir
alling out farther with each sensation.

  Damn, but she'd wanted it to last longer. It was a talented man who could bring her off whenever he was ready for her to come. Khloe hadn't decided if she liked it, or if it was a challenge to meet and destroy.

  Khloe collapsed against him, her hair falling in her face. Reed smoothed out her tangled hair and kissed her on the forehead before carrying her into her bedroom. She didn't want to ask how he knew which one was hers.

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  Chapter Nine

  Still No Bollocks, Just Bree on G-chat

  * * * *

  TartNTiny: You're lucky I love you enough to wait to chat until morning. Where the hell were you all weekend?

  KhloeKapers: No, you're lucky I got up out of bed since the man and his trouser snake just left.

  TartNTiny: You shagged him? Finally!

  KhloeKapers: Finally? It's only been a week.

  TartNTiny: I know, but you're perfect together.

  KhloeKapers: I don't know about that. It was just sex.

  TartNTiny: Just sex? Khloe! Look, I set you up for this job partially because of my mum, but I knew you'd be perfect together.

  KhloeKapers: Yeah. You said that perfect part already.

  TartNTiny: So, you texted about Brandy BcBitcherson?

  KhloeKapers: I actually feel sorry for her. You know, she pulled the fire alarm in the building after Reed gave her the brush off?

  TartNTiny: ROFL. Silly bint. He's so done with her. She needs to buy a fucking clue. Wait, you feel sorry for her? WTF?

  KhloeKapers: She's beautiful. Seems halfway intelligent and he's got her chasing her own tail. It's pitiful. So, yeah. I guess I do feel sorry for her.

  TartNTiny: Don't. She'll fuck you facedown like a dead hooker in the back of a Lexus as soon as look at you.

  KhloeKapers: I didn't say I wouldn't watch my back. Or stab her in the eye with the heel of my...your Manolos.

 

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