Pretty Dirty Trick: A Rich Bitches Novel

by Kiss, Tabatha

  Today at 3:45 PM.

  Last accessed by NPayne.

  Full copy and… deletion?

  From the looks of it, this same entry occurs once every day. Monday to Friday.

  I sit back with wide eyes.

  That harddrive in her bag. LBB.

  She walked right out the door with it. Apparently, she does it every freaking night.

  I knock my knuckles against the desk in frustration. “Fuck,” I whisper.

  * * *

  I stand beneath the shower head for far longer than I should. My skin tingles and my fingertips are starting to prune but it’s not like I get to experience a hot shower every day.

  “Yo, Clive! You in here?”

  I think to ignore him. I can just claim I didn’t hear him when he inevitably shows up at my locker in ten minutes.

  “Clive!”

  I take a deep breath and hold it for three more seconds of toasty water before reaching out and turning the knobs off.

  “Yeah,” I answer, my voice echoing through the showers.

  Shoes tap in my direction across the locker room. I grab my towel off the rack nearby and wrap it around my waist before Alex pokes his head in here.

  Alex pauses in the entryway, fully-clothed in his gray jumpsuit. “Hey,” he says. “Why didn’t you answer?”

  “Because I’m naked… in the shower,” I say, passing around him toward my locker.

  “Fair enough. I caught the end of your run before. You’ve really got your speed back up.”

  “Yeah,” I mutter.

  He takes wide strides to keep up with me. He’s either about to keep complimenting me or he’s going to spit out the words I’ve been dreading all day ever since I left Nora’s office.

  “So, did you get it yet?” he asks, fulfilling the prophecy.

  I pop open my locker and look around, focusing for any prying ears but the room is mostly empty. Late evenings are usually pretty dead at the gym but I don’t mind. I don’t get as many funny looks that way.

  I reach inside for my deodorant. “No,” I answer him. “I can’t get it.”

  Alex blinks. “What do you mean, you can’t get it?”

  “I mean,” I give my armpits a quick swipe and push the cap back on, “I got on her computer today and it wasn’t there. She takes it with her. There’s nothing I can do.”

  “Takes it with her where?”

  “I don’t know. Home, I guess.” I fish inside my gym back for a pair of underwear. “I can’t get it outside of work hours and I haven’t the slightest idea how I’m supposed to access the CEO’s computer while the place is crawling with employees, so… I can’t get it. Sorry.”

  Alex grits his teeth. “Figure it out, man.”

  “Figure it out?” I repeat.

  “Yeah, figure it out.”

  “I can’t just figure it out, Alex. This shit is officially out of my league and I’m not risking my job over this.”

  “Clive…” He flexes his jaw. “Do I need to remind you how much money that list is worth to us?”

  “No—”

  “Two million dollars,” he says anyway, his voice echoing through the lockers. “Half for me. Half for you. I have a buyer lined up and he’s willing to pay cash, Clive. Cash.” His eyes fall on my leg. “I told you I’d make it up to you and you agreed one million bucks more than makes up for what happened.”

  My foot twitches. “I know I did, but—”

  “So, risk the fucking job, man.” He points the name badge on his jumpsuit. “I’m not cleaning gym toilets for the rest of my life here.”

  I step into my jeans and grab my boots. “And what exactly is this buyer of yours planning to do with the list once he gets it?” I ask.

  He throws up his hands. “I don’t know nor do I care. It’s not my problem that a bunch of lonely losers plugged their information into an app in the hopes of getting laid. And it’s not your problem, either, so get your shit together and find out how to get that list so we can both get paid.”

  “Alex, I’m desperate for that money as much as you do but this isn’t about me getting my shit together,” I say. “This is about Nora Payne taking—”

  Her work home with her.

  I can’t get the client list during work hours, not without the very real possibility of getting caught, so I’ll have to get it after…

  And I already know where she likes to hang out after work.

  “Taking what?” Alex asks impatiently.

  I grab a black shirt from my bag and throw it on. The reflective bands on the arms flip up so I smooth them down again before stuffing my bag inside and slamming the locker.

  “Give me a few more days,” I tell him as I grab my jacket. “I have to get to work.”

  “Clive—”

  I ignore him as I walk out of the locker room, listening to the hum of my own thoughts as a plan forms in my head.

  Ms. Nora Payne is learning the rules.

  She needs an experienced Dom to teach her how to be a good submissive. Someone she’ll be willing to put her complete trust in.

  She’ll find one.

  Seven

  Nora

  I stare at myself in the rearview mirror. This entire night has been taken one step at a time. First, I was at home and all I needed to do was focus on getting dressed. Then, it was doing my hair and throwing on some make-up. Small, easy tasks I do every single day of my life. No big deal. Nothing to worry about...

  Then, it was getting in the car and driving through town to The Red Brick Road — or more specifically, the parking garage down the street, where I’ve been sitting and staring at myself for the last ten — make that fifteen — minutes.

  This is what I want, I keep telling myself.

  So, why was it so difficult to walk in there?

  Clive, obviously.

  He could be in there now, a familiar face among a sea of strangers. And a handsome one at that.

  But the thing is... I’m not sure if I want to run into him tonight. Or if I don’t want to.

  Well, I won’t do either if I keep my ass in this car, so I should make a choice now.

  Anytime now.

  You seem like you’d be a lot of fun.

  He said that to me. He said he wanted me to keep coming to the club.

  I don’t want to get scared off. I want to have some fun. For once in… well, forever, it feels like.

  Okay, how about this? Just open the door.

  That’s easy. You do that every single day. Just lay your hand on the doorknob and push the car door open.

  There. I did it.

  Now, step out.

  There we go…

  Now, close the door...

  I take it slowly, quickly tapping my key fob to lock it down behind me.

  I pause and reach into my jacket pocket, feeling for the soft, white material of Clive’s handkerchief stuffed inside. I pinch the corners and roll it up like he did to make it easy to wrap around my neck.

  “Agh—”

  I cough and loosen it.

  Christ, I’m so nervous, I nearly choked myself.

  Why does that turn me on?

  I take a deep breath and lean over to get one last good look at myself in my car window before marching toward the parking garage stairwell.

  It’s a clear night in Chicago. A little warm, but that just might be my body heat spiking upward with each step I take down the street.

  That flashing red sign comes into view and I bite my cheek. Excitement builds in my chest. My palms break into a sweat.

  Relax, he told me. Your secret is safe with me.

  Judy greets me at the counter as I walk inside again. She flashes a wide grin, recognizing my face.

  “So…” She leans forward, presenting her sizable cleavage over the rim of her corset — this one a deep scarlet red. “Have we changed our mind about the annual membership yet?”

  I snap open my clutch to find my debit card. “Not quite,” I say, setting it down.


  Her mouth pinches in disappointment but she snatches the card off the counter. “Well, next time we’ll get ya! I have a good feeling about you.”

  I laugh, feeling a bit more at ease than the first night but my heart isn’t pounding any slower.

  “We’ll see,” I say.

  I lay my right palm on the counter and she stamps me again before firing off one more wink at me.

  “Enjoy your stay,” she says, reaching over and unlocking the door.

  A rising laughter greets me as I step inside. It stops me cold in my tracks but my heart resumes its drumline as I quickly realize that their chuckles have nothing to do with me. This isn’t a high school gymnasium, after all.

  I look across the main floor, spotting a face I recognize at the center of attention. And by face, I mean mask. Roger, I believe. He must be telling some story because he’s has two entire couches of women enthralled. Lucky guy.

  I’m mildly curious to know what story he’s telling but there’s a deep urge in me and it tugs me toward the stairwell.

  I only saw a little bit a few nights ago.

  I want to see more.

  A man passes me on the stairs. For a moment, he looks like he’s about to say something to me but then his eyes fall to my neck. His head instantly snaps forward and he continues on without saying a word.

  I touch the handkerchief around my throat and feel a hidden smile brush my lips.

  A familiar grunt touches my ears as I reach the top. A bolt of excitement chills me as I gravitate toward it. It’s the same couple from that first night, only this time he’s tied her to a St. Andrew’s cross.

  Heat ignites on my skin the moment I see the pink lashes on her bare back.

  The crowd breaks apart as I move closer. The Dom slides her restraints free and her left arm drops to her side, almost completely limp. He wraps his arms around her, holding her up as he releases her other hand. Sweat tumbles from her brow, staining her cheeks. I pause. Maybe they’re tears.

  He whispers in her ear, bringing that same loving smile to her lips. She stands up on her own and rests against him with her head on his chest.

  I stay off to the side, watching as they slowly walk away from the cross toward the stairwell. They retreat up to the third floor.

  I swallow hard.

  Another couple takes their place on the cross. I think to stay and watch them but my feet carry me through the areas. I feel like a kid in a theme park, rushing from one attraction to the next, living and breathing the adrenaline rush. Floggers and belts. Leashes and chains.

  My heart pounds for it.

  “Ms. Payne.”

  My stomach lurches. Panic takes me for a second but as I spin around and look up, I see Clive Snow staring down at me.

  “Hey,” I say, holding my breath.

  He bites his cheek. “I have watched you wander around this place for almost thirty minutes,” he says.

  “You’ve watched me?” I repeat.

  “You go from room-to-room but you don’t talk to anybody, you don’t play, you just... watch. Are you a voyeur?”

  I squint. “No, are you?”

  He grips the edge of his jacket and pushes it aside, revealing the club’s emblem on his shirt and the bold letters beneath it that read SECURITY.

  “It’s my job,” he says.

  “Wait.” I laugh. “You work here?”

  “Didn’t I mention that?”

  “Uh, no,” I say. “You didn’t.”

  “Oh. Well, I work here.”

  “How many jobs do you have?”

  “Three,” he answers.

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, we can’t all be CEOs.” He smiles and glances at my neck. “I’m glad to see that’s coming in handy.”

  “Well, it was working like a charm until about fifteen seconds ago,” I quip.

  “Do you want me to piss off?” he asks with amused eyes.

  “No. The familiar face is nice... even nicer now that I know you’re literally the muscle around here.”

  “Well, good.”

  I glance behind me, drawn to the sudden sound of a flogger and a woman’s grunt-like moan somewhere else on the floor but I can’t see through the crowd. “So, this seems like a fun gig,” I say.

  “It certainly can be,” he says, shaking his head at the next area over. “Mostly just a lot of staring and cleaning. And keeping a close eye on singles, such as yourself...”

  “Why, are we dangerous?”

  “No, just vulnerable.”

  “I thought this was supposed to be a safe place.”

  “It is.” He nods. “Doesn’t mean I don’t worry.”

  “Do you worry about me?” I ask.

  “Honestly, yes.” He clears his throat. “You took off out of here like a bat out of hell last time. I hoped you made it home all right.”

  “I did. Obviously.”

  “Obviously,” he repeats.

  Again, I’m drawn to that woman’s deep groan. There’s a pleasure in it, one that entices and scares me all at once. I’ve never felt anything like that before.

  The crowd shifts and for a brief second, I catch a glimpse of her face. Red and glistening with sweat. With pain and ecstasy, both at once.

  “Pick one.”

  I twitch back to Clive. “Excuse me?”

  His eyes scan over my head to the corners of the room. “Pick one,” he says again.

  “Pick one... what?”

  He doesn’t answer. He just stares at me with one edge of his smirk curling up.

  My jaw drops. “You mean...” I point back. “The equipment? In the rooms? With the benches and the spanking?”

  “Yes,” he says.

  “For... you and me?”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “Ms. Payne, how do you expect to learn if you never crack open a book?”

  “I’m your boss,” I stutter. “That wouldn’t be appropriate.”

  “Not in here, you’re not.” He leans down. “Pick one.”

  I hold my breath, locked in place under his intense, yet friendly, eyes.

  I make a quick gesture at the unoccupied St. Andrew’s cross in the far corner. Clive looks over and smiles. I can’t be sure if he’s excited and amused. Maybe both.

  Clive grabs my hand. “Come on,” he says.

  He clings to me with hard, strong fingers and leads me across the floor. My chest twinges with slight pain as my heart pounds harder with each step we take toward the cross.

  Clive looks back at me. His lips move but the words and sounds I hear don’t match up.

  “What?” I ask, a bit too loudly.

  He turns around. “What are your limits?” he repeats.

  Right. Limits. Hard, soft. I try and recall the kinky shit Melanie told me but I can’t even hear my thoughts over my pulse pounding blood in my ears.

  “Everything,” I joke.

  Clive smirks and spins me around to face the cross. He guides my arms up and rests my open palms on it.

  “Don’t move,” he says in my ear. “Keep your eyes forward. You look at nothing but the wall. Understand?”

  I chuckle. “What?”

  He tightens his grip on my wrists. “Understand?”

  His voice travels down my spine. I swallow hard and look forward. “Yes,” I say. “I understand.”

  Clive takes a step back, his hands dropping from mine. I almost look as he walks away but I stop myself. I’m not supposed to look away from the wall.

  I stare straight ahead through the two wooden arms of the St. Andrews cross at the red brick wall behind it. Dozens of eyes stare at me, making the hairs on my neck stand straight up. I fight the urge to turn and look for myself. I fight the embarrassment bleeding out of my skin. I fight all of it in order to do as I’m told and—

  Christ. This guy is one of my employees.

  What the hell am I doing?

  I drop my hands to my sides and turn around to leave.

  “Where are you going?”


  I gasp as I run right into Clive. His feet are planted on the floor and his arms are crossed over his chest.

  How long was he standing there? How long was he watching me… waiting to see if I’d break?

  I glance over his wide shoulders at the observers. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I say.

  “Don’t look at them,” he says, calmly. “Look at me.”

  “Clive—”

  “Look at me.”

  I force my eyes upward to connect with his.

  “These people will not judge you,” he says. “No one thinks less of you for being inexperienced. They’re not here to make you think less of yourself… and neither am I.” He slides a single finger along the edge of my cheek. “You can leave if you choose to, Ms. Payne, but if you want to learn, I’m here to teach. You can trust me.”

  My teeth chatter in my mouth, rocked by adrenaline, and I say the first thing that pops into my head.

  “I want to stay.”

  Clive nods. “Then, turn around… and place your palms back on the cross.”

  I turn, slowly breathing as I do as he says. I raise my arms and put them back where they were before.

  “May I touch you?” he asks behind me.

  I nod, my neck jerking back. “Yes.”

  “I’m going to remove your jacket, is that okay?”

  I bite my lip. “Yes.”

  “You can lower your hands,” he says as he slides his fingers over my shoulders, “but put them right back as soon as your jacket is off.”

  I tremble as his hands glide down my arms, slowly drawing my jacket down to my wrists. I obey his words, instantly putting my hands back on the cross when I’m able to. My fingers touch the metal fasteners hanging down, meant for ropes and locks and other things, I imagine.

  “I won’t restrain you,” he says, noticing everything. “Not this time.”

  “This time?” I ask, my lips twitching.

  He doesn’t answer or acknowledge the question. Instead, he lays a flogger down on the cross in front of me. “I’m going to use this on you,” he says. “It’s made for beginners. You can touch it.”

  I take my right hand and run my fingers through the long strings. They’re thick and made of suede. Light, fluffy… nothing to be scared of.

  “It won’t hurt unless I want it to,” he says, taking it from me. “But your body might react as if it does, at first.”